Blacklight

by J M Dalgliesh

  Pulling the door to behind them, they crossed the landing and made their way back down. Timothy met them at the foot of the staircase.

  “Did you find anything to help?” he asked optimistically.

  “Nothing specific, no,” Caslin replied. Sensing the deflation of his childhood friend, he offered a supportive hand to Timothy’s shoulder. “Everything we see helps us to build a picture. Nothing is a waste of time.”

  Tim nodded and smiled, by way of gratitude at the sentiment. Caslin passed him one of his contact cards, insisting that he could be reached at any time of the day or night. He also promised to keep them in the loop and bid them farewell.

  Caslin heard the front door close before they made it down to the garden path. Hunter passed him the photograph and he scanned the young face before him. She was attractive with an infectious smile. A brunette, with long straight hair that carried to her shoulders, she was almost the spitting image of her mother. Reaching the pavement, he glanced back at the house whilst waiting for Hunter to locate the car keys. He saw Catherine standing in the bay, watching him intently. Her arms were crossed against her chest, her right hand absently playing with the gold necklace that she wore, her face, a picture of concentration.

  “What do you make of what he was talking about?” Hunter asked, unlocking the car.

  Caslin turned away from the house, opening the door to his side.

  “What, the cloak and dagger stuff?”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said as they simultaneously got in. “Do you buy it?”

  Caslin remained tight-lipped as she started the car, mulling it over. They pulled out into traffic and he looked back at the house once more, but Catherine was gone.

  “He wouldn’t be the first MP to be up to something.”

  “Is that what he said?” Hunter asked.

  “No, not in so many words,” Caslin replied. That was part of the problem. Timothy Bermond hadn’t really said anything useful at all.

  “Do you think he’s right? That Natalie’s been abducted, I mean?”

  “If you had asked me that a couple of hours ago, I would’ve said unlikely. But now…the water seems a little murkier, from where I’m standing.”

  “I know what you mean. They are pretty adamant.”

  “Begs the question, though, doesn’t it?” Caslin said solemnly.

  “How they can be so sure?”

  Caslin nodded but didn’t comment further. It wasn’t Timothy’s conspiracy theory that had piqued his interest, more the couple’s body language. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly, but something didn’t add up. The challenge would be to figure it out and, with a bit of luck, pick up Natalie along the way. He was always one for a challenge. Looking over at the clock, set into the dashboard, he saw it had just turned three o’clock.

  “Let’s swing by the university and see if this image of perfection stacks up.”

  “Sir?” Hunter enquired, looking across at him.

  “Come on, Sarah. I saw the look you gave me. You show me a twenty-year old, university student, that’s not interested in guys and I’ll show you Terry Holt, picking a winner.”

  Hunter laughed. “Particularly if the said girl looks like that,” she pointed to the photo in Caslin’s hand. “Even if she wasn’t interested in them, they would definitely be interested in her.”

  Caslin looked at the photo again. Hunter was right. The parents were always the last to know, the friends were the first.

  Chapter 5

  “We’re very proud of our Collegiate system, here in York,” the young, postgraduate student said as they walked.

  “How many colleges are there?” Hunter asked him.

  One of the Resident College Tutors, Luke Wilcox, led them from the reception of Vanbrugh Nucleus and out onto the Piazza. Caslin found the wrap-around, shallow steps leading down to the paved area, sweeping out before them to the lake beyond, visually striking. The sixties prefab architecture lent itself to the set of a science fiction film, rather than a traditional seat of learning. Students milled about, groups sitting on the edges of the quayside, awaiting boats that would never come. The weather had fared better in the afternoon, a bout of blue sky and sunshine, bringing the residents out to socialise on their wind-down from the day.

  “We have eight at the university, the latest formed within the last couple of years,” Luke stated with enthusiasm. Noting Caslin’s appreciation of the scene, he went on, “You wouldn’t think that Vanbrugh was opened during the second phase of the university’s creation, would you?”

  “When was that?” Hunter asked, appearing genuinely interested.

  “1967, named after Sir John Vanbrugh. He designed Castle Howard, you know.”

  Caslin feigned interest. He had visited the castle as a child, located within ten miles of the city. He couldn’t remember much about it.

  “Is this one of the more popular colleges?” Caslin asked.

  Luke shrugged, “They all are, in their own way. Because we’re open access, they form their own communities that cross study boundaries.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Caslin asked, becoming irritated and struggling not to show it.

  “You can apply to the college of your choice, irrespective of what subject you’re reading. Each has its own distinct vibe, if you will.”

  Hunter laughed, “Is Vanbrugh the party college, then?”

  Luke met her laugh with one of his own, “No, you’re thinking of Derwent. But let’s keep that between us. Rivalry is still fierce, even amongst friends.”

  They skirted the piazza, hanging a left, and made their way to The Warren, the administrative centre of Vanbrugh. This building was far more in keeping with what Caslin had pictured, when considering the University of York.

  “This is the old Provost’s House. We’ve been using it as the hub of the college since 2013. Upstairs we have the offices but there is a kitchen…”

  The young man carried on with his diatribe, Caslin didn’t care for it. He allowed Hunter to pay attention but personally, he doubted that anything useful would come out of him. Caslin was more interested in taking account of the surroundings in an attempt to better understand Natalie. If Vanbrugh wasn’t the wild college, it was certainly a place for expression. The instrument library, which he saw in the Nucleus, as well as the many advertised events dotted around showed the emphasis placed on music. A variety of artworks were also commonplace, wherever they went. Was Natalie a free thinker? Had she chosen this place for its independent spirit or was he reading too much into it? Perhaps she chose it from the prospectus and hoped for the best, like so many do with life-changing decisions.

  A brief visit to the office saw them learn where Natalie resided in Fairfax House, another period building, this one in Georgian style, a five-minute walk from the edge of campus. They approached via the well-tended gardens, again sporadically populated by students making the most of the clement afternoon. The building was made up of three wings, arranged in a U shape, with three floors per wing. Entering through a communal doorway, Caslin felt positively ancient as he viewed the fresh faces passing by him. He didn’t usually consider himself to be old, not at thirty-nine, not unless his children were visiting anyway.

  They mounted a flight of stairs to the second floor, turning right as they reached the landing. The rooms must have been uniform in size and shape as each door was equidistant from the next. Curious eyes scanned them as they walked.

  “How many residents do you have, here in Fairfax house?” Caslin asked.

  “We have capacity for ninety-one.”

  “And are you full?”

  “Always,” Luke sent him an easy smile.

  “Fees haven’t slowed the intake?”

  “No, not at all. That’s not something for the better universities to worry about.”

  Caslin wondered whether quality really had anything to do with it. The promise of a more successful future, via a university education, was a lure that never diminished.

>   “How well do you know, Natalie?” Caslin asked. They had held back on explaining the background for their visit as much as possible, not wanting to set the rumour mill alight. That would happen soon enough.

  “Not particularly well. I’ve come across her socially but never with my student-welfare hat on.”

  “How much of that do you do?” Hunter asked.

  “A fair bit,” Luke replied. “If the students have concerns they can come to me, in confidence. All of the residential blocks have tutors and if not us, their college officers are usually available.”

  “Not so with Natalie?” Caslin reiterated for clarity.

  “No, she is a very together person, as far as I know. This is hers.”

  They stopped before a door and Luke knocked, to which there was no answer. He withdrew a master key, unlocking the door and stepping aside.

  “We’ll take it from here,” Hunter said, by way of thanks. “If you could hang around for a few minutes in case we have any further questions, it would be helpful.”

  “No problem. I’ll wait in the common room,” Luke said, indicating an area at the end of the corridor. They passed into the room, allowing the door to close behind them. Caslin was pleased to lose the narrator.

  “Likes to talk, doesn’t he?” he said dryly, keeping his voice low.

  “He was being quite pleasant,” she replied. Caslin frowned. “You’re a miserable so and so, sometimes.”

  “Sir,” he added. Hunter smiled.

  They found themselves in comfortable surroundings for student life. The room was light, modern and well decorated. Caslin compared it to the damp, mouldy room that he remembered from his first year at university. A single bed, study workstation, wardrobe and minimal additional storage seemed more than adequate. Caslin was not shocked to find it in stark contrast to the room they explored at the Bermond’s house. The order here was tempered with a mixture of chaos. Pictures, spread over the walls, of bands that Caslin had never heard of, tall ships sailing in foreign waters, and all peppered with snapshots of student life. The desk was strewn haphazardly with paper, random sheets and notebooks, left with no frame of context.

  Opening the wardrobe, Caslin saw a noticeable change in style. Still of high quality but the clothes were less demure, arguably more contemporary.

  “What do you make of this lot?” he asked Hunter, who stepped over and sifted through the rail.

  “Definitely a step change from what she left at home.”

  “That’s what I thought and none of her clothes seem particularly tired,” Caslin replied, casting an eye over the desk. Everything on it appeared study related. Handwritten notes, from lectures, were dated at the top and text books were readily identifiable, amongst the clutter. He picked one up and read the cover, Quantifying Diversity in Archaeology. A light read if ever he saw one. Putting it down, his eye passed to a notice board, set above the desk. He took note of the calendar. Social engagements were well plotted. There was a gig planned for the forthcoming weekend, a group called Iron-light Stream, a nonsensical name that was no doubt intended to mean something clever. Hunter was searching through the drawers at the base of the wardrobe.

  “Anything?” he asked casually, opening the top drawer of the desk and looking at the contents. Beneath the first two folders lay a tablet, housed in a purple, suede case. Taking it out, he flipped it open. It was top end and even with his limited knowledge, he figured it to be expensive. Anyone with kids knew the cost of decent tech, these days.

  “Slightly more risqué underwear than at home, plus a few extras,” Hunter proffered.

  “Extras?”

  “A couple of aids, the likes of which we don’t talk about in polite company,” Hunter offered.

  Caslin glanced over. He didn’t need to look, it felt overly intrusive. He would take Hunter’s word on it. “Not interested in boys, eh?”

  Hunter smiled, “You never know, she could be interested in girls.”

  Caslin conceded the point. Further conversation was halted by the door opening, an individual launching herself into the room, at pace.

  “Well it’s about bloody time you got…oh,” she said, pulling up, as she saw the police officers standing in Natalie’s dorm. “Sorry, I…was looking for Natalie.”

  “And you are?” Caslin asked.

  “Lottie, Charlotte Gibbs,” she said, warily eyeing Caslin as she spoke. Her eyes flicked briefly to Hunter and back to Caslin. “I’m a friend of Natalie’s. Who are you?”

  “Police,” Caslin said without breaking his gaze, taking out his warrant card. “Perhaps we could have a chat?”

  Lottie appeared momentarily unsure before responding, “Sure. What’s this about?”

  “I can’t believe it,” Lottie said. She seemed genuinely upset that her friend had gone missing. “I’ve been texting her all day and not had a response.”

  Caslin made a mental note of that. They had found a quiet corner of the communal dining room, on the ground floor, to sit in. The areas upstairs were far too cramped to have a conversation without making it very public. The three of them nursed coffees, recently purchased by Hunter.

  “Can you think of any reason that Natalie might have for taking a day to herself?”

  Lottie emphatically shook her head, “No, not without telling me anyway.”

  “The two of you are close?” Caslin asked.

  “Yes, we’ve been together at Fairfax since we were Freshers.”

  “You met here? I mean, you weren’t friends before?”

  “No, I’m from Gloucester. We hit it off and have been friends ever since. Do you think something’s happened to her?”

  “Do you?” Caslin replied.

  Lottie sat back in her chair, her face a mask of the thoughts revolving in her head. “Why would anyone want to do something to her? She’s so nice to everyone. She hasn’t got an enemy in the world.”

  Caslin thought about that. Perhaps she didn’t on campus but if she had been abducted, he would have to differ on the premise, for she would have at least one.

  “Has Natalie done anything different to the norm, recently? Any behaviour that maybe didn’t strike you as odd, at the time but does now?” Hunter asked, her pen hovering over her pocketbook.

  Lottie met Hunter’s eye and glanced to her coffee cup, on the table before her. Looking up again, she shrugged, “Can’t say as I noticed anything, then or now.”

  “Does Natalie have a boyfriend?” Caslin enquired. Remembering Hunter’s comment earlier, he added, “Or even a girlfriend…things being what they are, these days?”

  Hunter’s eyes crossed to meet his. Her face didn’t break but he knew she was smiling. Lottie took a sip of her coffee and shook her head, “No. She was seeing a guy last year but it was only a couple of dates. She kicked him into touch pretty soon after.”

  Caslin loved the phraseology, probably an apt description for the majority of his own university love-life. “Do you have this person’s name?”

  “I didn’t really know him. He was from one of the other colleges. Sorry, I can’t remember which one. Not sure that I ever knew,” Lottie said with apparent regret. “Listen, I wish I could help more but I have a practice session to attend and I mustn’t be late.”

  “Band?” Hunter asked.

  Lottie smiled, “Hockey. May I go?”

  Hunter looked to Caslin, who nodded.

  “Thanks for your help, Lottie,” Hunter said. “If we need to speak to you again, we’ll find you. In the meantime, if anything comes to mind, give us a call?”

  “Sure,” Lottie replied with enthusiasm, taking the offered contact card. With that, she left in haste.

  Caslin watched her go until she passed through the double exit doors, absently sipping at the coffee from his plastic cup. It was rancid.

  “What do you make of that?” Hunter asked.

  Caslin didn’t have time to formulate a response as his phone began to ring. Taking it out from an inside pocket of his coat, he tapped the gre
en answer tab.

  “Caslin,” he answered flatly. There was silence as he listened. Hunter cast a look around the dining room while she waited, there was little to draw the attention. “Two and a half…what…thousand? You must be bloody joking! I didn’t even pay that for the sodding thing.”

  Hunter focused her attention on the cup in her hand, as Caslin hung up on the caller. She watched as he put thumb and forefinger to his eyes, exhaling a ragged gasp as he did so. “Problem?”

  “Someone expects me to pay for their summer holiday,” he replied, dryly. “Come on, let’s get a shift on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I need a lift,” Caslin was clearly reticent. “I’m afraid you’re going to be exposed to something no woman should ever have to be.”

  “Intriguing,” Hunter said with a smile. “On the way, we can check in with DCI Inglis. Let him know what we’ve found out.”

  Caslin nodded, “Good idea. What have we found out?”

  Hunter looked over, attempting to judge whether Caslin was testing her or merely kidding.

  “She’s one thing to her parents and another at university?”

  “Agreed. Pretty sure it’s commonplace with many students but I think this is different. The clothes are odd. Not in style but it’s almost like there are two people.”

  “One reserved, with the other modern and expressive?” Hunter suggested. “Lottie’s holding back.”

  “She’s following the code,” Caslin stated.

  “The code?”

  “Under no circumstances do you speak to an adult and certainly not anyone official, about what is going on with your friend’s personal life.”

  “Should we put her under a little pressure?”

  “In due course,” Caslin said before adding, “if necessary. Something’s going on and I intend to find out what.”