A couple of minutes later and he had appeared to make his choice as he headed towards the door. He slowed but never missing a step he carried on walking past the takeaway. 'Where are you going you arrogant little prick!' Logan said with his eyes fixated on the screen in front of himself. He followed him as far as the CCTV footage would allow him to. He lost him at the end of Kensington Avenue, Logan knew where he was heading in that very second, he clicked open the map and locating Catherine's apartment. He was right, Mark was heading straight for her apartment.
He picked up his mobile phone from the top of his desk and clicked through his contact list, finding Rachel's number and pressing his finger on the screen to dial through to her. He waited and waited as the call rang and rang without answer before going through to voice-mail. He clicked off. Mark had lied time and time again. Maybe Logan had got it wrong about Nathan, there was something and Stephanie was definitely covering something up, he didn't know what yet.
Twenty minutes later and he was sat back in his desk chair, he had tried to contact Rachel five more times, each ending with voice-mail. He had no option, looking at the clock on the wall of the investigation room, it was now a little after six and he was becoming hungry. He signed out of his computer, lifted his jacket off the back of his chair and slung his arms into the sleeves, before picking up his bag and exiting the police station.
Another thirty minutes and he was pulling up outside his flat. He always referred to it as an executive apartment, no-one back at the station had ever seen where he lived and if they did they would never describe it in the same way. It was a small two-bedroom flat he had bought ten years earlier for around fifty-thousand-pounds. The kitchen consisting of a u-shape arrangement of cupboards with an electric cooker in the middle and a small window above the kitchen sink looking across the road at a Kebab takeaway. The smell of used cooking oil drifting through most evenings and then the raised voices of intoxicated revellers on the weekend.
He closed the front door behind, locked it and then threw his keys on top of the nearest counter top. His fridge-freezer was making its usual loud encompassing whirling sound, it needed replacing but it was down a long list of repairs that were requiring attention and he was too hungry and too tired to be concerned with it today. He opened the door on the freezer section and lifted out a pre-packaged meal before slapping it down on the glass plate in the microwave and clicking away at the buttons setting the correct cooking time. He stood for the two minutes looking around at his empty flat, the three seater brown suede effect settee pointing in the direction of the thirty-inch television with a surround sound four speaker stereo system sat on the floor beside the bargain basement beach effect laminated television cabinet.
That was going to be his night now, a barely edible plastic cartoned dinner and an hour or so of watching whatever rubbish show was on the television before most likely nodding off on the settee before waking up at three in the morning and then staggering to his cold lonely bed to catch the remainder three hours sleep before doing the same thing all again tomorrow. Taking a swig from his bottle of beer he had taken out of the fridge first, he then lift it up into the air and said, 'here's to you Logan!'
Chapter 41
The taxi screeched to an halt outside Rachel's comfy three bedroom semi-detached suburban home, Tanya had jumped out three miles earlier to much protesting for Rachel to spend the night at hers rather than coming home to face Nathan. She fumbled away at two twenty pound notes she had in her purse and handed them to the taxi driver, before grabbing hold of the door and pushing it open. She was looking at the ground in her best attempt to gain her bearings before stepping out.
'You OK miss?' asked the driver.
'That's a question I'm sure you don't have the time to listen to the answer for,' she stated slurring the majority of the words as they slipped from her lips more fluid like than she had preferred.
'Would you like me to see you to your front door?' he asked with genuine concern.
'I appreciate the offer but I'll be alright,' she replied, dragging a foot out of the car and placing it as delicately as she could on the pavement. She was grateful not to be wearing high-heels today, he legs were close to giving way from under her at any minute and she was very conscious of the way she was standing when she finally left the taxi. She had placed on hand for balance on top of the car, but was soon forced to stand on her own as the taxi driver pulled away.
Stumbling backwards four or five steps she found herself facing towards the front door and picking the number stickers placed on the door above the letterbox she made her way swaying from left to right and then back again down the garden path. She fumbled through her handbag, looking for her keys, being almost a minute before she had successfully located them. Stabbing away at the lock with what she thought was the right key, the door suddenly opened.
'Great. Don't expect me to hold back your hair if you are going to throw up,' Nathan said as she bounced of the door frame, stood on his toe and the almost knocking every coat on the floor as she reached out for the coat hanger.
'I can take care of myself,' she replied with all the intention of doing such a thing before she slumped on the bottom step of the staircase.
'Yes. Well, looking at you, I find that hard to believe! I'll put some coffee on, shall I?'
'What would I do without you, eh?'
'Probably most likely throw up all over that rug and then fall asleep on top of it.'
Nathan left her sitting on the bottom step while he disappears off into the kitchen and shortly after she could hear the sound of the coffee machine grinding fresh coffee beans. She needed a moment to consider what her next step was, the alcohol was flowing around her system but wasn't having the effect that she had acted out since the taxi had pulled up to a stop outside. She suspected he would be home and most likely had noticed the taxi and had been watching her ever since.
She gave it another five minutes, hearing the click of the coffee mugs and Nathan placing the milk back into the fridge. He was almost done making the coffee. She staggered over to the kitchen door and peered around the corner into the dinning room. Something had caught her eye and it wasn't long before it came into focus. The intense brightness of the centre of the flickering flame on top of one of the white candle set in the middle of the table. Plates, bowls, knife and fork had all been put in place and there was a scattering of rose petals around the top of the dinning table. He had spent the afternoon cooking her a meal and making it special for them.
'Yes, the dinner is now getting cold, if I left it in the oven any longer then it would have been black,' his face saying more than the words coming from his mouth.
'I'm sorry, you should have messaged me,' she said smiling and running her hand down his chest.
He removed her hand, 'it wouldn't have been a surprise then and since your suspicious nature has always spoiled any surprise before, I wanted to make sure you wouldn't this one either. I was obviously very wrong about that.' He began to walk past her, 'I've actually had my diner, yours is on a plate in top of the oven, hopefully it's still edible!' He moved over to the dinning room table and blew out the candle before taking a seat on the settee with his coffee mug in his hand.
She lent against the door frame for a second or two longer, looking across at the oven, set high enough in one of the tall kitchen cabinets, she could she a large piece of cod with what she suspected was some kind of homemade sauce on the top, with roasted carrots and asparagus and boiled new potatoes neatly arranged at the side of the fish. He had gone to a lot of effort for this meal. Why? The question that instantly popped into her head. Why would Nathan go to all this effort, a week ago and she would have admired that after the romantic weekend away he still wanted to make it extra special week for her. Now, though, was a different entity all together, was he covering up his guilty conscious or distracting her from the truth?
She moved into the kitchen and removed the diner from the oven, the scent of lemon rising through the s
team from the sauce hit her straight away, it smelt delicious. The sauce had begun to develop a thin crust on the top and the fish appeared to have lost the majority of its moisture, she grabbed a fork from the cutlery drawer and leaning against the work counter, she began tucking into the meal. Her nose had been right, it tasted delicious too, the right amount of lemon counter-balancing the flavour of the fish.
'I'm glad you enjoyed that,' Nathan observed as he walked into the kitchen to place his now empty coffee mug into the dishwasher.
'I did and I'm sorry,' she said offering an olive branch.
'You been out drinking with Tanya?'
'We've had a couple after work, yes Nath.'
'A couple wouldn't have taken your three hours and you wouldn't have almost fallen out of the taxi. It amazes me that you talk to her all the time and shut me out,' he said in a burst of anger.
She was close to Tanya, so why shouldn't she talk to her? She was ready to accuse him there and then, but she was playing a game with him. It was wiser to play along with the charade and then when she had the proof she needed, she could strike back. 'You want me to apologise for my friendship with Tanya?' she snarled at him.
'I don't need you to apologise. That's not what I'm asking. This case is taking its toll and rather than looking to me for support, you running off to Tanya.'
Nathan walked back in to the lounge, leaving Rachel to finish off the last of her fish. The response was not a surprise to her, it was always his response, he said what he wanted and then walked off before she had chance to fire back. She clenched her fist and gritted her teeth.
Still filled with anger she strolled over to the lounge, standing in between the door frame looking at him as he sat there now reading the newspaper sprawled out on the sofa. He wasn't reading, just sat there pretending, he knew it wouldn't take long before she appeared where she was. The worst thing about it all, is she knew she would do it also, she was playing into his hands. She couldn't let an argument go, 'I'm not running off to Tanya, but she understands the pressure I feel. Half the time I talk to you about a case, you like bored, like being anywhere else would be better than listening to your wife's problems. It would be nice to have you try that just once, you know!' she was almost fully screaming at him now.
He closed the paper and threw it down on the sofa at the side of him. He stood and moved forcefully with every step on the carpet over towards her. Standing just inches from her he just stared at her, he was angry, his pupils wide and filling the full frame of his eye sockets looked dark and evil like she had never seen before from him. She was getting inside him, pushing him, hoping she had been wrong believing he could murder Catherine. Now she believed more than she had previously. She gasped clearly allowing her fear of him to come through involuntarily.
'I'm going for a jog,' he said sternly and he pushed past her with the full force of his shoulder against hers, never looking back to check if she was OK. He lifted his jacket up off the coat rack and headed through the front door, he slammed it behind himself, as she reached to her shoulder with her other hand, rubbing it gently feeling the sharp shards of pain travelling though her nerve endings.
Chapter 42
Logan woke to an haze a cigarette smoke and the smell of stale milk. The bitter sweet fragrance from the open bottle on top of the kitchen counter had mixed with the stagnant smell of the smoke ingrained into the furniture and was now making Logan's stomach turn in a way that was making him more uncomfortable than he would have liked. He hadn't heard from Rachel since they parted ways at the University. He had reluctantly messaged her for direction on the case, he knew which way he wanted to turn, but he thought he had better run it past the prodigal daughter of William Jepson. He was still bubbling away with anger at his short sighted view of the situation. How could the lead investigator on a murder case offer impartiality? He was dumbfounded by the notion and couldn't believe that DCI Jepson could be that naive. It wasn't his call he kept saying to himself and now he stumbled out from under the single woollen sheet on top of the old metal framed bed and sat on the edge while his eyes came into focus to his surroundings.
In front of him was a small chest of drawers, battered and bruised from years of use, he slid the top one open with the sound of wood scrapping against itself, he pulled a clean pair of underpants out and a fresh smelling pair of socks. He slept naked, the same way he had ever since he turned eighteen. He stood while pulling up his underpants and clicked off the bedside lamp before entering the small bathroom with its over the bath shower, one sink and one toilet. The bathroom was functional and everything was white. There were no decorative ornaments or pictures hanging up on the walls, in fact there were just the essential items, a mirror above the sink, toilet paper holder next to the toilet, a toilet brush hidden behind the waste pipe and a towel rack.
He brushed his teeth and splashed an handful of water over his face before running his finger through his hair, brushing over to the left hand side, he then checked his appearance in the mirror and satisfied with what he saw looking back at him, he finished off with a splash of aftershave before leaving the bathroom and entering his kitchen. This room in comparison to the bathroom was over cluttered. The kitchen-counters were installed in a u-shape design with two sides built against the walls and having wall cabinets attached above. The third side was free-standing moving into the centre of the room dividing the kitchen from the lounge that was all one large open-planned room. There were not a single space on the counter top free, a kettle, toaster, cereal boxes, matching sugar, coffee and tea pots in one corner, several used plates, bowls and coffee mugs, a pan on top of the cooker hob with milky coloured water inside from three days ago. The list went on and on. His mother, who had always be very house-proud, would have been disgusted in the state of her son's kitchen.
She had passed away almost a decade ago, she had struggled after she had a stroke before she reached fifty, it had just taken too much out of her and two years later she couldn't hang on any longer. He missed her smile and her comforting hugs, she always had a way of making everything feel better, like a mother should. His father, well he hadn't spoken about him in over twenty years and he wasn't about to start now either.
He clicked the button on the kettle and while the water began to boil, he opened the door on the wall cabinet in the corner and fished out the last remaining clean coffee mug he had left and popping one spoon of instant coffee and two heaped spoonfuls of sugar, before resting against his backside against the counter top. The water only took a couple of minutes to finish boiling and he sloshed it in to the coffee mug with a dollop of milk powder. He stirred it in as fast as he could before leaving it on the side to cool whilst he walked off back into his bedroom to throw on his suit. Once dressed and with a splash of aftershave, Logan swallowed his coffee in one large gulp and exited his flat.
He open the door of his car and sitting in the drivers seat, he lifted his mobile phone from his suit jacket pocket and gave one more try at catching holding of Rachel. The voice-mail kicked in after thirty seconds, he had left a message previously and had no joy on a return from her, he wasn't going to make the same mistake. He threw down his mobile on the passenger seat and pushed the key into the ignition before starting the car. He had his own lead to follow and he wasn't going to hang around waiting for authorisation from Rachel.
He turned into the University car park and pulled the car to a steady stop, before cutting the engine. Stephanie had been lying, he was adamant and needed to pull the truth out of her. It didn't take him long before reaching Stephanie's office, he had visited it so often lately, the route was now becoming etched in his memory. Her assistant wasn't surprised to see him again as he approached her desk and without him speaking, she had lifted the handset up of her desk phone and was requesting Stephanie's time. She replaced the handset and waved Logan through into Stephanie's office.
'Back so soon?' Stephanie asked from behind her desk as he walked through her office door.
'Just h
ave a few more questions. Do you have time to spare?' he responded.
'Yes, but I don't know if I will be of any use.'
Stephanie pointed at the empty chair across from her desk, she beckoned Logan to take a seat, he obliged and pulling his notepad out from his suit pocket, he flicked through a few pages, already ink stained from his previous notes.
'What is it you want to ask, Detective?'
'You told me that you weren't aware of any possible relationship Catherine had with a professor?' he asked curiously.
'That's right.'
He flicked through his notes, not really reading them, mainly for effect. He knew if he stayed silent long enough, Stephanie would inevitably start talking. She did.
'I can't watch everything all the time. I suppose she could have been having a relationship with a professor, but that would end the career of any professor. I really don't believe that anyone would risk that.'
'Nathan Lambert might do and I am to understand it wouldn't be the first time.'
How did he know? She shuffled uncomfortably on her chair from one side of her buttocks to the other. She had dug herself an hole from the day she hired Nathan. She knew about his past and against her best judgement, he had worked his charm on her and now this is what she had been left with.
'How do you mean?' she asked bashfully, tilting her head down wards and scrunching her eyebrows.
'I have conducted a little bit of research on Professor Nathan Lambert-'
'Would your chief in command agree with that research, I have to wonder!'
Logan smiled courteously back at Stephanie, resisting the temptation to rise to her jab, 'I like to be thorough with my work.'
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