Catherine

by A J Hollingsworth

  'Something like that. Anyway we had better get changed again. I'm sure you don't want to turn up at your first murder scene, Detective Sergeant Lambert, in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.'

  ◆◆◆

  Nathan had been hiding a secret, a good secret but he had to let her know now, Rachel was now dressed, and he handed her a large white plain envelope as she passed him on her way to the kitchen.

  'What's this?', she asked.

  'It was meant to be a surprise for this weekend. Open it.'

  Rachel pulled open the envelope and lifted a glossy printed brochure from inside, it had a picture of a beautiful cottage with a thatched roof and white painted rendered walls. In swirling italic font written on top of the brochure was the words, 'Rose Cottage Holidays'. She flicked through the brochure, instantly having her breath taken away with the stunning interiors, made up with real log fires and authentic wooden beams on display on each of the room's ceilings. The kitchen had all the modern conveniences for those who wanted to enjoy the rural experience but were not apart from modern living. She could imagine the first night curled up in his arms on the luxury corner couch in front of the heat of the gentle crackle of the logs on the fire, each supping a glass of merlot.

  'That would be so lovely Nath, I have to go to work though now,' she commented with heavy disappointment.

  'You'll be fine Rach. You got this,' Nathan's words of encouragement echoed inside her mind. She was ready. She had worked for this moment for years and now her first case was the death of a twenty-one year old student. She calmly picked up her bag and heading out of the door blowing a kiss to Nathan, the door slipped through her fingers and slammed shut behind her. No time to explain to Nathan though and she kept walking at a brisk rate down the driveway to her car. Clicking the unlock button on her remote the cars indicators flashed twice and she heard the distinct sound of the doors unlocking. She jumped in the car and it fired up as she took a deep breathe of eager anticipation over her first case. The report from Superintendent William Jepson was brief, the body of a female student form York University, they suspect, has been found on the grounds at Museum Gardens hidden in a group of bushes by a dog walker around half eight this morning.

  She pulled out of the driveway and looked in the rear-view mirror, just as Nathan walked through their front door, he gave a solitary wave and winding down her window down fully she moved her arm through and repaid the gesture with a little wave of her own to a gracious smile from Nathan. She was fortunate to have found a match in Nathan, he was fully understanding of her work commitments and never once in their eight years together had he made her feel guilty for long unpredictable hours. He had reason to, her job was more demanding than most. In the middle of the night when Nathan was asleep and she wasn't able to, she would be downstairs with the coffee on tap and running various suspected scenarios on murder cases. She was obsessive, full on out of control but that's what made her as good as she was. That's what made her the youngest female to ever hold the position of Detective Sergeant in the history of the North Yorkshire constabulary.

  She turned from Kempton Close onto Maine Street; she was around thirty minutes from the crime scene if the traffic would be kind to her. She clicked on the radio station to the sounds of nineties pop.

  Chapter 3

  The car came to a steady stop along Museum Street, the beat of her heart tapping inside her chest was now becoming louder in her head than the sounds from the car stereo. She wasn't able to put her finger on why she was so nervous, this may be her first case in charge but she had worked dozens of homicides in the past few years. The notion she was nervous was unnerving in itself. She wished she could just put her nerves to one side but she wasn't able to and the minute she stepped on to the pavement from her car she could feel her legs buckle under her. She stood for a minute holding on to the roof-rack of her car, the fear of collapsing straight on to the ground underneath was preventing her from letting go. "Come on Rach, pull yourself together," she told herself.

  After a deep breathe and a large gulp of her coffee from her flask mug, she was ready to go and turned away from the car, walking along the pavement leading on to the grounds of the Museum Gardens. She had been her before, having a picnic with Nathan once when she had surprised him between his lectures. The checkered blanket and weaved picnic basket providing a small feast on a warm summers day. It was taken straight out of one of those Sunday afternoon movies played on television. Nathan and Rachel enjoyed many afternoons like that over the previous few years and still did when the time permitted.

  There were multiple entrances to the garden covering the north, east, south and west sides of the grounds. She entered through east side of the park, just a little further up where the body had been discovered, off to her left was the hum of people all gathered. The gardens were a vibrant array of colours as Autumn was coming to an end. It was the middle of October and the leaves on the trees had begun to change in all different shades of crimson and yellow. Over to her right were stone raised flowerbeds with the last blooms still showing signs of the last splash of summer colours.

  The Sun was just making an appearance over the tops of the trees, throwing long webbed shadows across the lawns. It had been mild recently and a small gentle breeze rustled the leaves in a soft patter that was soothing to her. There were four lawns in front of her split by wandering and twisting concrete paths. It was no tropical paradise but it did offer green tranquillity in an otherwise bustling city.

  This time on a Saturday morning the paths were bustling with joggers and dog walkers with their poop bags in hand; but, today, they were all stood watching like spectators at a football match, with a couple of uniformed police officers acting as stewards. Rachel had requested for the gardens to be fully sealed off from the general public, but unfortunately, the force were too short staffed to maintain a full closure of the gardens. The latest in a long-line of budget cuts by local government were hitting the North Yorkshire Police Force hard. She would simply just have to cope with the resources she had.

  The body of the student had been found amongst a collection of bushes at the lowest part of the gardens. She followed the path around to the left where she caught sight of the Observatory to her right hidden in a cluster of branches and leaves provided by the surrounding ash and willow trees. The path twisted to the right and the concrete path gave way to a sandstone pebble one. There was a low hum off in the distance as she entered the gardens and soon became louder as she approached the crowd of spectators.

  The customary blue and white police tape served as a temporary fence to protect the area. Roughly measuring three hundred feet across from one Sycamore tree to another, where two uniformed police officers prevented any member of the general public from crossing over. Rachel had seen the tall officer around the police station before, being six-feet-seven-inches tall everyone had seen him around the station. No-one, could however remember his name and he quickly became known as the unoriginal name of 'Jack the Giant'. The pun being used from the fairytale, "Jack and the Beanstalk". They all agreed it was a bad pun, but it seemed to stick anyway.

  Lennon Turnbull, a reporter from the local York Daily Reporter, was standing on the opposite side of the crowd from Rachel. Hanging around like a bad smell, reporter Lennon Turnbull was a nippy Jack Russell biting at the ankles for information. She despised him with every bone in her body. He was a regular sort of gentleman. He was of average height, with short wavy caramel hair and matching eyes. He was just another ghostly face in the crowd slipping by but all that changed when he began talking.

  He wore a plain grey suit with a white shirt and no tie. His appearance oozed conventional and boring. Lennon Turnbull was a lot more than his appearance suggested. He was lively and witty with bags of charm attached. She remembered she was once at a charity ball that her former Detective Chief Inspector had insisted she attend against her will. It was there she had the privilege of dancing with him and found him wonderful company. It was in stark contr
ast compared with her second meeting when he interrogated her about the case she had been working on at the time. He was ruthless, quizzing her over and over for any scraps of information for his next big article.

  She straightened her black fluffy winter coat and let out a little cough to attract Jack the Giant's attention. It worked and he was soon moving over to where she was standing, he recognised her immediately but smiled courteously when she flashed him her warrant card. He lifted the tape as she ducked underneath. Her presence hadn't gone unnoticed though and sure enough Lennon Turnbull had worked his way through the crowd heading in her direction.

  'Not what you would expect on a Saturday morning DS Lambert?' he called out as he reached just a couple of feet away from her.

  'Wasn't expecting you either Lennon!' she bit back at him.

  'I thought we were friends, Rachel?'

  'Far from it, Lennon.'

  'You've hurt my feelings. Any comment on the case to ease my pain?'

  'No comment, Lennon,' she said exhausted with him already.

  'Come on, Rachel, you can't leave me like this!'

  'Back off Lennon' a female voice said from behind her.

  Rachel turned to face the direction where the voice had come from and there standing with a smile on her face was Police Constable Tanya Scott. What a relief, it was to Rachel, to see her on duty that morning. Rachel had left University straight into a job with the North Yorkshire Police Force as a Detective Constable, she had been head hunted after walking away with a first in Criminology. Tanya had joined the force three years previously. The pair had struck up an instant friendship.

  'Morning Detective Sergeant Rachel Lambert,' Tanya said in a posh voice.

  'Morning PC Scott,' Rachel replied in an equally posh voice.

  'I like the sound of saying that Rach.'

  'You know, Tanya. I like hearing it too.' The pair giggled like a couple of teenagers. 'Has Logan arrived?'

  'Yes. A few minutes ago. He's over there by the tent harassing forensics.'

  It was now that Rachel would look at the scene, in a slow and considerate manner allowing her to absorb the bigger picture. It was her first move. To step back and focus on everything near and everything that wasn't. Along the back of the her view was a banner of trees with a Oak tree occupying centre-stage and in front cushioning the feet of the trees were low-lying Euonymous bushes. The view partially blocked by the tent erected by forensics to protect any evidence and keep beading eyes away.

  Behind the trees were a six-foot high stone wall and then the River Ouse on the over side of that. This was all out of view but after living almost all of her life in York, local knowledge helped her in the majority of cases. Behind her going off to the right and left was the sandstone pebbled pathway. The left veered back off to the same entrance she came through and the right veered around to St Thomas' Abbey or what was left in the way of ruins. She was certain there was another entrance located at the back of the Abbey.

  Nothing around looked disturbed though, it wasn't surprising that it had taken a dog to sniff out where the body was. Even, Rachel, with her years of experience, was struggling to find any tell-tale sign that a dead body had been dumped her. Her first instincts were telling her the student hadn't been murdered here.

  ◆◆◆

  'Nice of you to join us Detective Sergeant Lambert. I thought for a second you weren't going to show up for your first day on the job,' Logan teased.

  'I bet you did Logan but I am here now,' Rachel said cheerfully. There was no response from Logan.

  He raised the corners of his cheeks with an half attempted smile. 'Do you want to get started DS Lambert?' the disappointment to be working with her was clear in his tone and has he turned his back Tanya raised her eyebrows in disgust with him. Rachel raised her hand and waved away any comment that was tipping on the edge of the lips of Tanya before they had any chance of being aired.

  'You do have an evidence bag on you, don't you DS Lambert?' Logan expressed with an air of authority.

  'Logan, you can call me Rachel. You always did before.'

  'No offence, DS Lambert but I prefer to keep within the protocol of the hierarchy between the two of us. When I called you Rachel you were the same ranking officer as myself, that isn't true anymore. I have evidence bags in case you need to borrow them.'

  'I am fine Logan and I respect your position.'

  Logan nodded in appreciation of Rachel's respect of him, before starting to walk across to where the body had been found. With his back turned away from her, Rachel signalled to Tanya she had, in fact, forgotten the most basic of tools she carried to a crime scene. An evidence bag was a simple plastic bag, stronger than the average sandwich tie-topped bag found in most household cupboards, but it was essential for protecting evidence from becoming contaminated. She could have kicked herself in her own backside for committing such a rookie mistake.

  Luckily for Rachel, Tanya had always had her back covered from day one and today was no different. She reached down into her police issued overcoat and grabbed two evidence bags and slyly slipped them into Rachel's hand that she had positioned behind her back out of sight of Logan. She was not prepared to give him any reason to stab a knife in her back. Rachel mouthed, "thank you" to Tanya.

  She continued to follow Logan up to the tent where forensics were busy photographing the entire scene, they were not wishing to let the human eye miss anything that would be relevant to the case. The lead forensics officer on duty was a dear friend of Rachel having worked on many cases together in the past. She moved over to him.

  'Geoff, nice to see you again,' she said friendly.

  'Likewise Rachel, but why is it always over a dead body? Maybe one day we'll have a drink together.'

  'I've told you before Geoff. I'm an happily married woman.'

  'Eh, you never know. Things change after all and I know you want me Rachel. I can see the twinkle in your eye when you saw me. You can't deny it.'

  'No, I am always pleased to see you Geoff, but not necessarily for the reason you thing.'

  'Maybe one day, eh. Anyway I guess you want the run down from me?'

  'Yes that would be appreciated Geoff,' she said giving him a cheeky smirk.'

  'Not a lot to tell you at moment, still working through at moment.'

  'Just what you know, is fine.'

  Geoff Plummer had spent just under ten years on the force, now in his early thirties, he was a handsome man with short spiked hair and a youthful face. He wore designer square glasses that didn't compliment the shape of his face and generally would show up for work in a pair of the latest-styled denim jeans and a shirt with the top two buttons unfastened and dangling over the top of his jeans.

  It was early in the investigation, but the crowd were already speculating in the background. She had no choice but to move slower, there were several hours of work yet to be completed by the forensics and despite the end goal being the same for both sides there was very little collaboration during any investigation. It was most likely be a case of her nagging Geoff in the hope he would speed up their investigation. In truth it made no difference, but it didn't stop her.

  Geoff called her over to his side. In front of him hidden halfway in a bush was the body of a young female student, between the police officers and forensics half the small branches of the bush had been removed for ease of access. She was fully clothed, a pair of waist hugging slim fitting Jeggings and a plain crop top showing of her slim firm mid-drift with a small beige cardigan unfastened casually fitting over the shoulders. Rachel noticed instantly how beautiful the young woman was, insanely beautiful, with soft silky blond hair flowing over her face. She had a slim nose leading down to full rose red lips, although the colouring had started to fade.

  'Do we have any knowledge of who the victim is, Geoff?' Rachel asked speculatively.

  'According to her student card, we found in the pocket of her jeans, her name is Catherine Holmes,' answered Geoff passing Rachel the student card. S
he was attending York University on an English course. Rachel looked at the picture of Catherine on her student card. She looked so happy with a big smile that was full of energy and excitement.

  Rachel's eyes filled with sadness, life wasn't supposed to end this way. We are born, attend school, obtain our dream job, fall in love, marry our soul mate, have children, watch them grow, retire and enjoy our golden years with the grandchildren before the big man in the sky calls for us. She was under no illusions that life was perfect, far from it, the very notion would have her usually in a burst of laughter. However, at every murder scene she attended there was that inside her she couldn't explain. A feeling that would consume her with anger and frustration. It was a bizarre role she played; the aim was to catch a killer, but wouldn't it be more just if she didn't have to chase one in the first place.

  She was burning with emotion inside and she couldn't help but show it. Geoff knew her and had witnessed her breakdown at murder scenes in the past, this was no surprise to him this time and even he would admitted feeling the same array of emotions that Rachel was. When she was closer to him, he lifted back her hair covering her face to reveal the tell tale marks around her neck. Rachel had seen them before and knew what they told the forensics before Geoff had confirmed his conclusion to be the same.

  Catherine Holmes had been strangled forcefully to her death.

  'What would you suggest was most likely to be used as the murder weapon, Geoff?'

  'Not one-hundred per-cent, Rachel, but I would most likely guess at a small cord of some kind. Possibly an electrically cord.'

  'Why an electrical cord?'

  'The smoothness of the markings, a rope or piece of string would leave a pattern marking from each of the strands that make up the complete rope on her neck rather than a definitive smooth line all the way around her neck.'

  'No other way she could have been strangled,' Rachel asked, hoping to exclude as many possibilities as she could.