Catherine

by A J Hollingsworth

  'Maybe a couple of hours in the gym every week may be required,' she commented, frustrated with him.

  'What's the rush? Keen to jump in bed with Nathan?' he poked at her.

  She was not willing to discuss that with Logan, she doubted she would ever be willing to have such a conversation with him. 'I think we have more pressing matters than my sex life. Don't you?' she snapped.

  Logan nodded and then under his breath and out of the reach of Rachel's ear, 'must not be getting any!'

  Rachel knocked on Mark's dorm room door and stood back.

  'Why am I not surprised!' Mark said with an undertone of sarcasm as he opened the door.

  'We just have a few more questions to ask you. Can we come in?' Rachel said politely.

  Mark stepped backwards and gave a little bow whilst holding one arm out straight, welcoming the pair into his room. Once they entered, he jumped onto the bed and laid scrolled out across his duvet. 'Take a seat detective,' he said pointing to the chair tucked away under his desk.

  Resisting the temptation to smack him across the face, she did as he asked. The chair, despite its basic construction, was in fact very comfortable. She sank into the deep cushion covering the wooden frame, popping her back against the backrest. Mark looked at Logan, but never said a word to him. He didn't like him, he had reached that conclusion within the first five minutes of meeting him and left him standing just inside his room.

  'What was your relationship with Catherine like Mark?' quizzed Rachel.

  He began chuckling, 'I thought we had gone through that line of questioning or is the police force that inept you need to ask the same question twice?'

  'We don't need top ask it twice Mark, we are just confirming your first answer.'

  'I get it now. You think I was lying!'

  'Are you?' Logan jumped in.

  Mark looked at Logan, glaring hard at him, angered by the insinuation and then sitting up straight on the bed, he lent forward, bending in Logan's direction. 'Would whatever I say make a difference? I would probably be accurate in saying NO!'

  Logan didn't have a response, Rachel on the other hand was growing tiresome with Mark's attitude, the superiority complex he was so desperate to convey, was now nothing more than a little boy with a over-inflated ego. 'You are entitled to your opinion Mark. Everyone is entitled to their opinion at the end of the day. We are not interested in opinions though. We want the facts, nothing else and if you are hiding anything, it will only bite you an the ass,' she said sternly. 'Let's cut out the bullshit and why don't you start telling us the truth.'

  'I am,' responded Mark. His mouth remained open after he had spoken. He was shocked by the gusto of Rachel and at the same time, in admiration of her.

  'Had Catherine always been faithful?'

  'What kind of question is that? Of course. Catherine and I was incredibly happy and she would certainly not have any reason to stray.'

  'None at all Mark?' Logan said sarcastically.

  'No. You two may not be my biggest fan, but Catherine was.'

  'We've been informed that Catherine had been having an affair!' Rachel stated calmly. 'We've also been told that it was with an older man.'

  'She was faithful to me,' replied Mark defiantly.

  'You sure? Way I see it is she was tired of dating boys and wanted a man. I'm sure someone who is as egotistical has yourself, would have been infuriated with Catherine.' Mark remained silent but Rachel could see the smugness been drained away. She had hit a nerve. 'A woman wants to be treated with respect and compassion, with love and affection, with care and consideration. I imagine with the amount you love yourself Mark, there's not a lot left over for anyone else-'

  'You are wrong! I know what you are trying to do. Push my buttons, make me say something out of anger and then twist and manipulate it to say something completely different. I know how you all work.'

  Rachel shuffled herself forward on the chair and paused looking at Mark without saying a word. He coughed uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of the awkward silence knowing that she was waiting for him to say more, waiting for him to really flip. He wasn't going to. He refused to break though.

  'I thought you might have something more to say,' she said in a soft motherly tone tilting her head attempting to catch eye contact. 'No,' she added after a short moment of quiet. 'You always appeared to be the type of young man that loves the sound of his own voice that much. I expected something would always becoming out of your mouth, even if it was absolutely pointless and irrelevant.'

  'Anything I say is always relevant! That's the exact reason I'm not saying anything.'

  Logan was now getting restless of how the conversation was progressing and moved towards the door reaching into his trouser pocket and clicking away at his mobile phone. Rachel hadn't noticed him and was still trying to break Mark's resilience. Her concentration was broken with the ringing sound of a mobile.

  Mark jumped up from the bed, turning from the pale shade or white to almost translucent, Rachel had been right, he was hiding something. Logan had quickly moved like a bloodhound with a fresh scent, his ears pricked up high and was intent on finding the ringing. Mark moved over to his desk. Rachel had been slow to react and was knocked to the ground by Mark's speed. The room was only small and Logan's path to Mark was blocked by sprawled out body of Rachel along the floor. He leaped on to the bed and managed to catch hold of Mark's shoulder pulling him backwards on the bed at the side of where Logan was standing.

  The ringing had stopped but not before Logan had focused in on the top drawer on Mark's desk. Mark made his way back to his feet and ran for the door. He wasn't quick enough and Rachel was soon behind, grabbing hold of the door handle before he could. 'In a rush somewhere?' she quizzed.

  Mark refused to comment, he looked forward at the desk as Logan opened the drawer from where the noise of the phone had been coming from. Inside was a mobile phone that just didn't seem to be the kind that Logan would have owned. 'I am only guessing but would this phone belong to Catherine?'

  'It's mine,' Mark replied in a tone that would not have convinced himself.

  'You own a mobile phone in a pink sparkling diamond encrusted case? Somehow I would have had you pinned as more of a black goth vibe.'

  'It's not surprising. Usual stereotypical assumptions made by you!'

  Logan strolled across to Mark, stopping less than a feet away from him.

  'It has Catherine's name inside the case,' he said as he peeled back the case from the phone and showed it to Mark. 'There is also a picture of Catherine with, what I presume is her mother, as a screen-saver. Did you harbour a secret crush on Catherine's mother?'

  'It's Catherine's, he muttered.

  'Pardon?' asked Logan who couldn't hear what Mark had said.

  'I said it is Catherine's phone,' he replied slowly and clearly.

  'What are you doing with her phone and why were you hiding it from us?'

  'She left it here the night she was...well...you know,' he couldn't bring himself to say what had happened to her. 'I didn't know at first until her mother had text her the next day and I heard it beep.' He sat back on his bed, 'I know I should have handed it over but I wanted to keep it. By holding onto it I could hold onto her,' the tears began to well in his eyes. 'I know I was daft to keep it but I'm sure you can understand.'

  Rachel could understand, but just didn't believe a single word that came out of his mouth, he was hiding something and she wanted to find out what. She sat back on the chair. 'We will have to take the phone Mark,; she said firmly. 'There maybe something on there that could lead us to the answer of why Catherine is no longer with us and I'm sure you are just as eager to find out that as much as we are?'

  Mark took a gulp before nodding. Rachel wasn't convinced by his crocodile tears but with a lack of evidence, they had no choice at the moment than to believe his story and give him the benefit of doubt. She would be straight back though if anything was found on Catherine's phone.

  Chap
ter 19

  Nathan was terrified. He had spent years in education as a pupil and now he was going to be the teacher. Trained and fully qualified with great expectations of molding and shaping the lives of young people. To inspire and excite them into a profession of wondrous, magical, and the romance of being an English scholar. That was the dream for him since being sat on his mother's knee as a young boy being read classic stories from the Bronte's, D.H Lawrence and Charles Dickens. She was an high school teacher of English and was passionate about literature and passed away before Nathan had reached eighteen. He had made her a promise to follow in her footsteps.

  He made his way to the great lecture hall on the main campus at Staffordshire University and was immediately overwhelmed standing at the front looking upwards into the row upon row of empty seats before him. Soon to be filled with almost two-hundred student eyes all fixated on him, waiting for him to speak. To inspire. To simply not bore them all into a coma. The pressure was on him and he found himself, completely uncontrollably coughing as the saliva in his mouth instantly evaporated away.

  He walked over to the lectern in the middle of the stage and picked up the bottle of water and taking a large gulp he could feel the water flowing all around his mouth, relieving his discomfort instantly. He checked his lecture notes were in the correct order and placed them on the lectern in a neat pile. He waited as the students then began to drift in watching each seat vanish and listening to the noise as it erupted.

  Five minutes later everyone was seated. It was now time for him to begin. His first lecture on the romantic classics of the nineteenth century. Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte and Leo Tolstoy were just a few of the authors he would cover over the next few months. This lecture was going to be the easiest one. The first year students filled with eager anticipation and brimming with a willingness to learn about the history of the genre of romance and what made the great novels of that era so endearing to modern society.

  Beth was a first year student, freshly eighteen, she was enthused with life and being away from her parents for the first time in her life was enjoying her newly found freedom. She was ready to explore like a baby tiger stepping out for the first time into the wilderness of the Sahara. She had chosen to sit on the second row near her new BFF, Samantha.

  They were both intrigued by the youthfulness of Nathan and even more so by his looks. Samantha had commented on his strong jaw bone and wide shoulders. She had speculated about a possible six pack hidden underneath a stripped blue shirt, his physique slightly showing through the thin cotton.

  The girls were still giggling when Nathan was ready to start. He coughed loudly, grabbing their attention. Samantha blushed. Beth didn't. Instead she sat there looking at the tall stature of Nathan, smiling coyly at him. There was something about him. She couldn't put her finger on it, she had been in the company of handsome men before and they would often follow her, she made it a rule to never be the follower. But here she was, staring longingly at a man she had seen for less than five minutes. This was silly, even idiotic. He was her professor.

  Chapter 20

  Rachel wasn't expecting to discover Catherine's phone to be hidden inside Mark's dorm room. That was even a surprise to her.

  'How did you know the phone was in there?' she asked Logan.

  'Just a hunch. I believe he is still hiding more from us.'

  'OK,' Rachel said while nodding her head.

  'Plus, I received a message from our tech boys showing its location to be in this vicinity.'

  'When? I never received one,' she stated as she took her mobile phone from her trouser pocket. She clicked in the four digit unlock code and swiped open her messages. It was there, crystal clear in front of her. What she hadn't realised, while she had been talking to Mark, Logan had felt the small vibration of an incoming text message inside his pocket and read it while the other two had been distracted. He then waited for the right moment to test whether Mark had it hidden.

  The two of them had now left Mark's dorm and were heading across the courtyard as Rachel attempted to unlock Catherine's phone. It was a four digit pin, with limited attempts before the phone would lock her out fully.

  'Why don't you have out technical team look at that. Surely, that's a better choice than probing around in the dark?' asked Logan.

  'That would take too long, might has well have a look now if we can.'

  Logan raised his eyebrows in protest.

  'Look, if I block it, I'll pass it over to the experts.'

  Logan backed down, knowing it wasn't a battle he would ever win. Rachel popped her hands inside her pocket and retrieved a pair of silicon gloves before removing the mobile phone fully from its evidence bag.

  'Did you happen to jot Catherine's date of birth down?' Rachel asked Logan.

  'Fourteen, twelve, nineteen-ninety-seven, but isn't that too many numbers?'

  'I'm taking an educated guess, that the pin will hold some of those numbers.'

  Rachel paused contemplating the possibilities while knowing that Logan thought it was a complete waste of time and she would inevitably lock the phone giving more work to the technical team and delaying finding out what is on the phone more. But, when did she ever listen? Especially to an officer who she outranked and at best tolerated. No. She could do it, here and now.

  It could be the year of her birth. Four digits, easily remembered but also just as easily guessed. The day and the last two digits from the year? That would be mixing it up a little. The day and month? That could also be possible. Rachel calculated the amount of possible number combinations. Ten thousand was the amount of possible combinations and she had just three attempts. She ponded the sentiment for a moment. But then she liked a gamble and mankind was only as advanced as it was because people would push the boundaries.

  Keep it simple, she thought. Birth year. She entered in each digit, carefully avoiding pressing a wrong one and received an "incorrect pin" notification on the screen of the phone. Two more attempts left before she would have to wait for the technical guys and who knew how long they would take.

  She paused, just for a few moments, but long enough for a thought to pop into her head. She had guessed wrong. It was a birthday, but not her own. In the kitchen of Catherine's apartment was a calendar hanging from a nail that had been lightly tapped into the wall. The calendar was unimportant, a standard pick-up anywhere variety with an abstract picture of flowers, as Rachel recalled. No, that didn't matter, but underneath circled in bright pink highlighter and love hearts around, was one very important date. Her mother's birthday.

  The month was now September, so that would make the last two digits zero-nine, but what was the date? Her mind had gone blank. She closed her eyes, visually picturing the calendar in her mind. It was a standard calendar that had seven columns, each one representing a different day of the week starting with Monday in the first column.

  The first of the month fell on a Wednesday just over a week ago now. Catherine's mum's birthday was highlighted in the first column, fourth row down. She began with the first Monday of the month and counted. Six, thirteen and twenty. Rachel smiled as she typed in the numbers, two-zero-zero-nine.

  'I wonder if you're right,' Logan suggested sarcastically.

  She was right and as the lock screen disappeared into the home screen, she couldn't help smirking a little. It was probably down to a bit of luck or a lot of luck, she would give him that much, but she was satisfyingly smug.

  'I was wrong!' stated a stunned Logan who genuinely believed she would have guessed wrong. 'So, what are we looking for?'

  'Text messages or emails. If Catherine was seeing somebody behind Mark's back, they would need to communicate somehow.'

  Rachel scrolled down through the messages on Catherine's phone. There were a lot from her mum and the same expected from Mark. Nothing unusual in either of the messages, at first glance anyway, but something then did catch her attention. Two days missing in between the messages between Catherine and Mark.

&
nbsp; 'Maybe they don't message each other everyday,' suggested Logan.

  'Normally I would agree, but if you look, they did.'

  Logan leans in closer to Rachel as she scrolled through the long list of messages. It was true, Catherine and Mark would message each day, varying from arranging time together to more in-depth conversations. Two weeks ago two days were blank of any messages between the pair.

  'You suspect Mark?' asked Logan as the pair turned, looking towards the dorm block.

  'He's not been fully honest. I mean, why would he have Catherine's phone? Something doesn't add-up, so yeah I do suspect him but we can't arrest him because of the phone.'

  'Handling stolen property?' enquired Logan.

  'Technically it is only stolen if reported.'

  'I can check to see if it was?'

  'I already have and it wasn't.'

  They both turned away from the dorm block and headed towards the car, both filled with frustrated, they needed more evidence.

  Chapter 21

  Daisy rolled over, underneath her bed covers, from her back to her side. The cotton sheets were soft against her naked skin and she was grateful to have five minutes of peace from her father. He had booked himself into a nearby bed and breakfast and it hasn't been a minute too soon. He had offered to sleep on her floor for protection with a murderer on the loose.

  She had declined the offer. She knew her father had meant well and was only concerned with her safety, but after years of coping with with his overbearing care, she was happy to be looking after herself. She had felt guilty though, as his large brown eyes filled with disappointment upon her telling him no. For now, she was cuddled up with a teddy and a good action film playing through the twenty-inch television on her desk. She was ready to settle down for the night and although it had barely turned nine, it had been a long enough day.