Catherine

by A J Hollingsworth

  She couldn't hide everything in the house that could be used as a weapon, Catherine after all was murdered with a cord from a bedside lamp, granted only speculation at the moment. But if it was true then what else could be used to kill her. Would Nathan be driven to kill her by beating her to death with the nearest ornament he could lay his hands on. Even now though, she still had doubts, he had never laid an hand on her in a violent way in the past.

  Rachel had to act normal and fast, she didn't want to raise his suspicion, she stepped back and began looking through the kitchen cupboards. Those high on the wall, otherwise known as the kitchenware graveyard. Those novelty items that were used once when bought as a Christmas present and then spent collecting dust ever since. The mini-doughnut maker, the sandwich toaster and something to do with eggs that Rachel couldn't follow and made no difference to the taste. She was on her tiptoes peering in with just the bottom of her nose managing to clear the bottom of the cupboard. There was a thin layer of dust around the appliances, none of it had been disturbed, there was nothing there.

  She moved on into the lounge where she spent most of her downtime, curled up on the big deep soft sofa, watching the latest series on Netflix or a movie whilst rustled deep in Nathan's chest hair. She loved running her fingers through the thick coat of hair, twirling it around her fingers, making little patterns in it. Nathan hated it, she knew it and he knew she knew it, but he tolerated it anyway. The lounge had no hiding places. There was a small chest of drawers by the door and there was not the room for the lamp in any of them. Neatly tucked into the corner of the room near the window was a small footstool with storage inside, but that was full of magazines, books and anything else she could squeeze into it.

  Nathan was still in the shower, he would spend almost thirty minutes lathering himself up, washing his hair twice and everything else three times including a deep scrub with a loafer on his back. He was half way through. She still had time to search!

  Under the stairwell was a small storage cupboard, not big enough for her to stand in and was used mainly to store the vacuum, brushes and the odd pair of dirty trainers. There were room to hide things at the back, with no light and the fact that she only ever used the vacuum once in the past. That was Nathan's job, he was at home more than she was and had long periods of holidays when the students weren't attending at the University.

  She opened the door, creaking a little as she pushed it back as far as it could, before peering inside. She removed the vacuum that was blocking her view and placed it as quietly as she could at the side of the staircase. She knew Nathan's suspicion would be raised if he saw her in that cupboard and there was no way, she could have offered any plausible reason for searching either.

  Down at the back of the cupboard was a roll of very dusty refuse bags, they have owned the house for over five years and can't ever remember putting them there. It showed how often she did a spring clean, unlike her mother, who would religiously do several deep cleans of her childhood home each year.

  She found nothing else at the back of the cupboard apart from old cobwebs and dust. She felt she had covered all the places where Nathan could have possibly hidden the lamp. She considered where it could be lurking upstairs, but this was risky with him being so close to her and with an estimated ten minutes left in shower she had to be quick.

  She headed up the stairs one at a time with a delicate foot and reached the top without a squeak. She moved steadily past the bathroom door, hearing through it the running water of the shower, she was OK for time. The bedroom door was straight ahead and she headed through it. She wanted a long soak in the bathtub, preferably using bleach to get the remnants of sex with Nathan of her. She was filled with disgust and it was seeping ever deeper inside her skin.

  Walking into the bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed, she at least had an excuse now why she would be there if Nathan enquired. The bedroom was her domain which narrowed the search options to just a couple, Nathan's wardrobe or his drawer under the bed. She opened his wardrobe, rummaging around in the bottom and finding there was no lamp!

  Just a pile of jumpers and an old shoe-box. She was confused by it, sitting in the bottom of there, she slowly pulled the lid back to reveal the contents. Inside were the ticket stubs from the first movie they had watched together on their third date over a decade ago, the first valentine card she had given him and all the reminders of ever first they had enjoyed together.

  She welled with emotions, tears rapidly built up at the bottom of her eye lids and despite every effort to stop, she couldn't prevent them from escaping down her cheeks. Staring, through the blurry vision the tears had now brought on, at the pile of jumpers. They were all normal, everyday jumpers, nothing special but one was now catching her eye.

  She stood up and estimating where the wardrobe was in front of her, she bent down and ran her hand over the jumper at the bottom of the pile. It had been previouslyhidden behind the shoebox and had gone unnoticed by her. The jumper was irrelevant, a standard woolen long sleeve jumper with a threaded pattern down the right breast, it was the colour. A deep maroon, that jilted a memory to the forefront of her mind, she remembered with uncompromising certainty that the fibre found on Catherine's body was of the same colour. She reached down feeling at the jumper, she was very aware that Nathan could step out of the shower any moment, she had to be careful.

  Running her fingertips along the seem, she felt something of interest, a small hole. Just tiny enough for her fingernail to catch. Examining it closer she could see a small strand, no longer than a couple of centimeters, was missing. She wouldn't have time to take the jumper now, in fact she had just realised that the shower had stopped and she was still bent over with her head practically inside the wardrobe.

  'What are you doing?' she heard a voice from behind.

  She had to lie, 'I was looking for a pair of shoes.'

  'Why would a pair of your shoes be in my wardrobe? Unless you haven't been putting things away in their right place again!' he said smirking.

  'Yes but they not here anyway,' she said softly before closing the wardrobe door and turning to face Nathan. She knew it would be evident to him that she had been crying.

  'Everything OK?' he asked in a gentle, caring and sincere tone before sitting at the side of her on the bed. She had left the shoe-box open on the floor near her feet. He couldn't help but see it, in fact he nudged it a little with his foot when he had sat on the bed. 'You found the shoe-box?' he asked smiling. She nodded back at him. 'It's nothing really, I just like our memories together and I wanted to keep them safe.'

  'Why wouldn't they be safe?' she asked curiously.

  'Who knows what the future holds for us. My mother is already starting to forget things. She left the oven on the other day for five hours after she had finished cooking. My father ended up turning it off when he was getting too hot. My mother couldn't even remember using the oven. She has just turned fifty-two. I worry if my mind begins to go then I may need something to remind me. That's all.'

  She was now more confused than she had ever been before in her life. As a detective investigating various murders, one question always lays heavy on the conscious, what makes somebody commit murder? To take another life, to watch the light drain from their eyes as they passed from this world into whatever was waiting on the other side. What would drive anyone to do that willingly? Here she was, sat alongside such a person, more convinced with every passing moment that Nathan had strangled that poor young woman.

  Looking into his eyes for that moment and there was compassion in them. He had been worried about forgetting his life that he had kept it locked up inside a shoe box.

  Chapter 46

  Nathan lifted the shoe-box off the floor and placed it back inside the wardrobe next to the sweater that Rachel had been examining only moments ago. Inside she was holding her breath, his hand brushing past the sweater, she waited for him to notice the smallest crease that wasn't there before or had she knocked them out of line of wh
ere they were previously. He positioned the shoe-box in the gap and stepping back from the wardrobe, he closed the door.

  Joining Rachel side by side on the bed he placed his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek gently. 'I love you and I would be lost without you,' he said barely above a whisper. She propped her shoulder against his naked chest and snuggled into it, lifting her hand up and running her fingers through the fine hairs of his chest. He had always been a regular at the gym and she could feel the muscle tense of his pectorals.

  She had always admired his physique and now nothing more than animalistic desire, she wanted to be wrapped up in him, that could no longer happen though. She pulled back away from him and stood.

  'You sure everything is OK Rach?' he asked with a concerned look on his face.

  'Yes of course, I just need to visit the little girls room and then I am craving caffeine.'

  Nathan nodded understandingly and allowed her to leave the bedroom whilst he started to dress himself. He threw the towel on top of the duvet cover and rummaging around in his underwear drawer he found a fresh pair of tight boxers and a pair of soft comfortable socks, before he placed his legs in a clean pair of jeans and his favourite 'New York' logo t-shirt. Rachel was downstairs by the time he had finished dressing and shortly after he had arrived at the kitchen door.

  'Are you working today or are you free?' he asked anchoring after spending the day with her.

  'You should know the answer to that Nath, I can't pull a sickie this far into the investigation. I promise though, as soon as it is wrapped up, I will be taking a few days off.'

  'Maybe we can still have that cottage in the Cotswolds!' he said with an enthusiastic smile.

  'I can't see why not,' she stated before moving over to switch on the kettle to make the pair of them a mug of coffee, she raised the mug checking with Nathan if he would like one.

  'Thanks, I don't know what I would do without you.'

  'It's only making you a coffee and don't get any ideas of this becoming a regular occurrence though,' she said chuckling.

  'Once I have tasted it I may not want you to make me another.'

  'Cheeky,' she said taking one of the coffee mugs and walking into the lounge. Nathan was quick to follow and soon enough they were sat side by side on the couch whilst Nathan was flicking through the available channels. It was still early, barely just turning nine in the morning. Rachel would have been out of the house by now in her best trouser suit and her usual marching walk. Today was different and it wouldn't be long before Nathan started asking questions.

  'I was thinking of maybe going in later today, after all' she said reaching out her hand to grasp his. 'I'm sure Logan can manage on his own for an hour or two.'

  'Manage? He will be loving it. Without you there, he'll be delighted to be calling the shots and ordering everyone about.'

  'You don't like Logan much, do you?'

  'You know I don't, but you don't either,' he said turning his head to face her. 'Have you started to warm up to him now?' he asked when he saw the look on Rachel's face. It was different now from when she started to work with him on the same rank. She was hard, annoyed by every little remark and snide comment he ever made, but for now, she was soft, less irritated and more affectionate towards him.

  'Maybe he is not as bad as I first thought. I think I may have misjudged him and I can't deny that he is an excellent detective.'

  'William Jepson clearly believes you are a better detective though and I tend to agree with him Rach.'

  'OK, I may not go as far as excellent, but he is a good detective and sometimes sees clues that I have missed. Either way, I have to admit that this case he has been instrumental on and I am more inclined to work with him just for that reason.' She dropped that hint to Nathan into the conversation deliberately to watch his reaction. He didn't disappoint her, she noticed a slight worried look cross his face and then watched as he'd adjusted himself on the sofa.

  'I'm just going to have to run off to the toilet Rach,' he said. 'Watch a bit of TV and relax. I'll not be long.'

  Nathan stood up and moved over to the lounge door, looking back towards her as he excited before climbing the stairs, heading for the bathroom upstairs. Once she heard him reaching the top step, she stood up also and moved over to the lounge door, staying just slightly inside the room, before hearing the bathroom door close.

  She now moved across the entranceway corridor into the kitchen, she had to find more to be sure that Nathan had murdered Catherine! She had now checked all around downstairs and all around upstairs and there was only one place now left to check. The garage. It was attached to the side of the house, an addition that had been included after they had bought the house to store all off the bits and bobs they couldn't find to fit anywhere inside the house. Nathan had suggested it when he saw the space available down the side of their semi-detached safe haven. He had promised he would park one of the cars in to reduce the cost of their insurance, in fact, the car had never been parked in their and it quickly became full.

  She had insisted placing a door from the back of the kitchen directly into the kitchen as a way to save her from the rain in winter when she needed to go in there. She opened it as quietly as she could, hoping for Nathan not to be able to hear her enter the garage and then shut it behind herself, again as quietly as she could. Nathan had installed some metal shelving down the left hand side of the garage walls and again along the back wall. Rachel looked at the shelves brimming to bursting with cardboard box or plastic storage box. All lined up in perfect alignment to one another and all labelled. Nathan wasn't really that organised, she had bought him an electronic label maker as a present a few Christmases ago and he had spent all of January sorting and organising the garage so as an excuse to use it. What she hadn't told him was that she had bought it him deliberately in the hope that he would do just that. A little white lie to nudge him in the right direction. What is wrong about that?

  She wouldn't have long to start searching, so she had to smart, not just quick. Firstly what would she need from in here if he came back whilst she was still looking? An old recipe book. That was a stroke of genius. What better to top of a morning of reconnection between her and Nathan, than her Grandma's famous English chocolate muffins. She remembered making them as a young girl with her mum and how the smell was divine, it would fill the entire house and linger all day.

  Now she had figured out her excuse she started to scan the labels on the boxes. Garden Supplies with everything from grass seed to label pegs. One filled with old photograph albums that neither use anymore since the motion of digital. She looked box after box from the bottom shelf upwards another two to the top shelf. None of the boxes seemed to be suitable to hide anything. The thought of nothing being in any of them had crossed her mind several times, but something inside, call it instinct, was telling her Nathan had made a mistake and there was something inside this garage.

  She was ready to give up, to throw the towel in and then just in the blink of an eye, something stood out to her. In the corner of the garage were the Christmas decorations, a tall rectangular box with the artificial tree standing inside and then several boxes topped on one another at the side. It was one box that just for a second appeared to be a little out of place and not rested neatly on the one below. She acknowledged it may not have seemed strange to the passing eye of anyone else, but Nathan had not put away the decorations this year like he promised on the turn of the new year, she had nagged him till the end of January before she had got so annoyed that she had put them away. That's how she knew it was strange, she would have never stacked them so carelessly, they had been rearranged since and since she hadn't done it, there was only one other possible culprit.

  She moved across to the boxes as fast as she could, fully aware that Nathan could return downstairs any minute and wonder instantly where she had disappeared off to. It wouldn't take him much longer after that before he came looking for her and inevitably walk into the garage. On top of t
he box that was out of place were two further boxes and holding just a mixture of small Christmas baubles and tinsel, she found herself able to lift them off without struggle and quietly placed them on the floor beside her.

  The box in question was now staring right at her, tempting her to fold back the cardboard flaps and have a look inside, she checked behind her towards the door that led back into the kitchen. It was still shut and before she knew it she had the box wide open and with a gasp she instinctively took a step back, almost tripping over her own feet on the way. It was staring back at her, she had been right and despite fighting with herself for almost a week now, Nathan had killed Catherine. Laying in the top of the box on top of a layer of bubble wrap was a broken bedside lamp. It was the murder weapon!

  Chapter 47

  Logan had turned the key in his car and listened to his car engine take a large breath as it came alive. He had instantly pulled out from his parking spot, still placing his seat belt around himself as he headed off down the road. Nathan was a threat and that threat was currently to the life of Rachel and despite whatever his opinion of her was, he would not allow her to come to harm. Before he had reached the end of his street he had powered the car up to forty miles per hour, ten miles over the allowed speed limit and had not fully come to a stop, whizzing around the corner heading in the direction of Rachel's home.