Two Years After ; Friends Who Lie ; No More Secrets

by Paul J. Teague

  It was still early – there was nobody else to be seen. The killer rapidly walked down the hill, clinging to the walls of the houses beside the road, alert to anybody who may have been looking out of windows or taking in the delights of the new day from their balcony.

  All was quiet as the murderer walked through the empty Spanish streets and headed back to the apartment. Nobody was awake. They would not even be aware that somebody was missing, not until nine o’clock at least. That left plenty of time to reflect on the victim’s last, plaintive words.

  ‘I thought you were my friend.’

  Chapter One

  Caitlen: April

  Caitlen cursed Terry, and not for the first time that week. His careless, happy-go-lucky demeanour was wearing thin. Another night late back from work. Another night eating dinner on her own. She was beginning to wonder if she’d even notice the difference without him. Only she was scared of being on her own again.

  She sifted through the post which had been thrust through the letterbox after they’d left for work. She wanted kids eventually, but after the day she’d just had she wondered what life would be like with them. She was tired out from a shitty day, hungry – with no inclination to cook – and in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. Terry’s snoring was becoming a problem, too. Intermittent had become regular, it was keeping her awake at night. But when do you tell a person it’s over?

  The post was non-existent most days. They’d gone paperless with the bills, so that had culled most of what they received. Nobody wrote letters any more, meaning that anything they did get was just a pile of crap. Unwanted circulars seemed to be all that was keeping the Royal Mail in business.

  Caitlen looked in the fridge. The problem with them both being out at work all day was that they never shopped properly. It was a constant process of grabbing bits on the move. Terry was no use. He always seemed to remember his beers – never milk, bread, eggs, or something else which might have kept the two of them alive.

  She looked at the clock on the cooker. Just after six-thirty, she was starving. Anything that they did have in the house needed some preparation, and she couldn’t be bothered.

  Her phone vibrated. It was a text from Terry.

  Sorry luv, going to be held up until after 10. Big case, you know how it is. See you later.

  Three years ago, the word ‘luv’ had seemed slightly endearing and even a little novel. The way Terry said it there wasn’t a hint of being patronising. It was just how he and his family spoke. Now it grated like a toddler’s screams, it was an assault to her ears. She winced every time he said it. It was only a matter of time, but it was so hard for her to jump off the moving vehicle. Life kept moving on, jumping out of a relationship took grit. Caitlen wasn’t sure that she had it. And with Terry, it wouldn’t be easy.

  His text had sealed the deal. She would go to the new bistro that had opened up the road. It would still be happy hour – she could grab a pizza and a glass of wine and they wouldn’t worry about her using her laptop in there. It was one of those cool places run by hipsters.

  Caitlen checked herself out in the mirror. She looked tired, but perfectly alright to be seen in public. A change of jacket, a brush of the hair and she’d be good to go.

  She reached out to pick up her MacBook, but then hesitated. Her old laptop was sitting on the kitchen worktop where it had been getting in the way for some time. It was ready to be thrown out, but she wanted to check over the hard drive first and make sure there was nothing on there that she needed. Nobody was getting her information from an old hard drive and stealing her identity, she knew the drill. Then she’d pound the thing to bits using Terry’s mallet from the shed. Terry was the kind of man who kept a mallet. He had a toolbox, too. He even had a workbench. Only dads use workbenches in the twenty-first century, she’d thought to herself.

  His hands were rough and dry, toughened from doing jobs around the house. Caitlen wasn’t used to men who were practical. Most of her previous boyfriends would have struggled to put up a curtain rail. She missed their soft hands touching her. When Terry caressed her, the callouses on his hands scraped her skin. Over time, it’s the little things that drive us crazy.

  She placed her MacBook on the kitchen table and picked up the laptop, opening the lid and switching it on. It was half-charged, enough for her to do what she needed to do without it dying on her. She’d kill two birds with one stone, check the computer and get a bite to eat. And if Terry’s time estimates were accurate – and he was usually later rather than earlier – she might even get an hour alone in the bathtub, with her vibrator. It was now beginning to look like a night that she could get enthusiastic about. If things went really well, Terry would be back after she’d gone to bed and she could play dead, dozing peacefully in the glorious release of multiple orgasms. He’d feel guilty, so he’d try not to wake her. And she could postpone biting the bullet for another day.

  Caitlen knew that she had to end things with Terry. But it was so disruptive. She’d moved into his house and rented out her small terrace. She’d have to coincide the break-up with the end of the tenancy agreement so that she’d have somewhere to live. And she still wasn’t completely certain that she wanted to end things. She was mid-thirties and beginning to wonder if she’d ever meet the right man. Her ovaries wouldn’t stay ripe forever. She’d even considered using Terry, then leaving him and taking the child. Naomi and Rhett made her realise what she was missing. They always seemed so good together. They were a proper couple.

  The bistro was just what she needed. Being happy hour, it was pleasantly full. There was a work party on the big table in the corner, but the waiter considerately placed her at the couples’ tables some distance away from them. There was another guy working on a tablet two tables along from her, a couple in earnest conversation to the other side, and other small groups dotted about creating a nice hubbub of conversation so as not to make her feel too self-conscious.

  The guy who was sitting on his own looked up and checked her out as she was shown to her table. She noticed it and glanced back at him.

  Soft hands, she thought to herself. He won’t have seen a day’s manual labour in his life. I prefer that in my men.

  As she studied the menu she considered the possibility that she might not need to use a vibrator when she got home after all. She shrugged it off. She had to break it off with Terry, but not that way. For all his faults, he was good to her most of the time and he still made her laugh. Maybe that’s why she was still around. Nobody had ever made her laugh like Terry. Even if he was an idiot, he knew how to tell a joke.

  ‘I’ll try a vegan pizza,’ she said to the waiter. He had a beard like she’d never seen before. Its end hovered just above his notepad as he scribbled down her order.

  ‘And a small glass of red wine, please. Do you have Wi-Fi?’

  He pointed out the password at the bottom of the menu and walked off to pour her glass of wine. As soon as she’d taken the first sip, Caitlen relaxed. She’d done the right thing – this was just what she needed. It had been a tough day at work. The new boss was a prize bitch. Caitlen had often wondered about going it alone, but she was as scared of leaving her job as she was of leaving Terry.

  She took out her laptop and placed it on the table. She forgot her password at first – the constant array of secret words that were needed to navigate modern life sometimes got the better of her.

  At last, she was in. As Windows finally booted into life the jingle announcing the device was ready to go sounded out loudly, causing the hubbub to stop momentarily. The laptop’s speaker hadn’t been disabled.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, her face reddening.

  The man with the soft hands looked up and smiled.

  ‘Don’t you just love Windows computers?’ he said. She could tell he was educated. Terry was a graduate of the university of life as he’d proudly announce.

  ‘Those idiots in their black gowns and letters after their names can’t teach me anything that w
ould have ever been useful in my life. University is a waste of time!’

  Caitlen smiled at the man, once again daring to consider a one night stand with him. He was obviously putting out feelers. No wedding ring either. Would it matter for one night?

  ‘Yes, sorry about that. I haven’t used this one for some time, I’ll switch the speaker off.’

  They looked at each other – it hung in the air, but she chickened out and went back to her computer. She wasn’t that kind of girl, although the way things had been recently she was seriously tempted.

  She set to work on her hard drive, immediately becoming unaware of what was going on around her. It was always like this for Caitlen. She loved working with computers and did what Terry casually dismissed as ‘geeky stuff’ for a living. She was a software programmer and had a great aptitude for the work. She would become immersed in the lines of code and had loved it until the bitch arrived. When Dick retired and sold the business, the atmosphere had changed. It’s the only job she’d ever had. Thirteen years in the same workplace in this day and age, that had to be worth a gold watch.

  Caitlen checked the files on the hard drive. Most of what she did these days was in the cloud, safe and sound. But when she’d bought this laptop, cloud storage had been expensive, so sometimes she kept private stuff in folders which she made hidden in the settings. It was those she wanted to check out.

  As it was, there were a couple of useful things that she spotted straight away. There was an old savings account from university days that she’d completely forgotten about. It might have a couple of hundred pounds left in it. She transferred the account information to her password manager, she’d check the balance later.

  Another folder had some photos of her and an old boyfriend. They’d shot an amateur porno on a mobile phone, a Nokia probably, and she laughed as the phone’s orientation was wrong. But it looked hot nevertheless and it took her back to a place and a time. She’d liked being with Euan, but he hadn’t liked her enough to stick around.

  No wonder she’d hidden the folder. It was a good job she’d turned that volume down, too. Euan was doing things that Terry would never have even thought of. Euan had been creative like that. Terry was what you’d call ‘workmanlike’.

  She angled the laptop towards her, to be certain that the man wouldn’t see it. As the waiter approached with her pizza, she shut down the file and deleted it, suddenly guilty for enjoying this reminder of more athletic and exciting times. She made certain that the file was also deleted from the recycle bin and, in any case, Terry’s mallet would make sure that it was never seen again.

  Eager to tuck into her pizza, Caitlen scanned the hard drive files for the final time. She was about to slam down the lid when she spotted a folder with an unusual name: BTC2011. What was that? She double-clicked and took a look. Inside was a text file containing two strings of very long passwords.

  Then it came back to her. Christmas 2011. Stuck in the office with one of her mates – though Luke was a bit more than a mate back then – killing time before they could go home and start the seasonal celebrations. An afternoon of doing no work and surfing the internet for interesting things to do. And an expenditure of a hundred dollars which she’d completely forgotten about.

  What was in that folder would test her friendships, change her life and result in a vicious murder.

  Caitlen didn’t get to try her first vegan pizza that night. And the hopeful young man seated to her side didn’t get laid.

  Chapter Two

  Caitlen: April

  Keeping her secret for that week had been exhilarating. And now here were her best friends sitting around the table, chatting away, completely oblivious to what she was about to tell them.

  The night she made her discovery, she’d rushed home from the bistro, almost neglecting to pay her bill, and completely forgetting the young guy who’d been looking at her expectantly as she got up to leave. The waiter sporting the extraordinary beard had been concerned that they’d somehow frightened off a new customer and she’d had to tell a lie to shake him off.

  ‘My youngest child is ill, that’s the babysitter. I’m so sorry, I have to go.’

  She handed him a twenty-pound note, which would more than cover the bill, and rushed home. She couldn’t wait to fire up her MacBook. If she was right and she could figure out how to use those passwords correctly, this could change her life.

  She was right. Caitlen wanted to scream at the heavens with joy. She’d thought nothing of it when they were playing around at their desks in 2011. She’d even had to think hard about the hundred dollar cost at the time, it being Christmas. But Luke had convinced her to do it. And now her life was about to change.

  There was a small round of applause, shaking her from her reverie.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away, what did you say?’

  ‘We’re engaged, it’s official, look!’

  Becky held up her ring. She was glowing with happiness, delighted to be sharing the news with her friends.

  But there was somebody at the table who wasn’t quite so delighted to hear the announcement. Caitlen looked at Harriet who was spinning her wine glass round by its stem, looking intently at its contents as they swirled up and down with the circular movement. Matt looked uncomfortable, too. Porter just stared. Becky should have picked her moment more carefully, but she was like that. Insensitive and careless. She probably hadn’t even given a second’s thought as to how it would make Harriet feel.

  Caitlen seized the moment. She allowed the congratulations to be passed around, the hugs, the whoops and the kisses. Then she struck, before everybody’s attention went back to their small huddles of conversation.

  ‘I’ve got some news of my own to share.’

  ‘Oh yes? You didn’t tell me. Don’t tell me I’m going to be a father!’ teased Terry.

  She hadn’t told him because she still wasn’t sure how he fitted into her plans. He was a technical idiot, hopeless with computers. He knew enough to find porn sites and tool suppliers, other than that he was clueless. That suited Caitlen. They weren’t married, this didn’t necessarily have to involve Terry. She’d figure that bit out afterwards.

  Everybody was watching her. No one had expected an announcement from Caitlen, yet it was true that on the conveyor belt of meeting, dating and living together she and Terry were now at the fork. Next came marriage or children. Nobody thought a break-up would be coming. Terry was far too much fun.

  So, as she surveyed her friends’ faces, Caitlen let them guess. She could see their minds whirring. Baby or marriage, take your pick. Well, surprise! It was neither.

  ‘Before you all start trying to guess, it’s not a baby and it’s not a wedding. It’s something completely different.’

  She saw a look of relief cross Terry’s face, but he was quickly in there with a quip.

  ‘Thank heavens!’ he said. ‘I just put our life savings on the 3.30 at Cheltenham ... and the bad news it’s now 8 o’clock and I lost the lot!’

  There was polite laughter, then all gazes turned back to Caitlen.

  ‘Oh no, it’s not bad news is it?’ Emmy asked. ‘You haven’t got cancer or anything, have you?’

  ‘No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s good news. And it involves all of you, my best friends.’

  There was a collective sigh of relief. Nobody had even considered that it might be bad news, so Emmy’s question had caught them off their guard.

  ‘In 2011, well before I’d even met Terry, I was at work just before Christmas with an ... an old colleague of mine, Luke Chester. He’s left the country now, gone abroad, but we always used to get on well. Very well, in fact.’

  Porter took a slow sip of wine, settling in for the story.

  ‘You know what it’s like when you’re killing time in the office in the run-up to Christmas. You have to be there, but everybody else has packed up early and gone home. We didn’t have anything to do, so we were just messing about online—’

  ‘Don’t
tell me you found my porn videos?’ Terry piped up.

  Everybody laughed, but Caitlen felt her cheeks redden. That one had been a little too close to home bearing in mind what else she’d found on her own hard drive.

  ‘No, this has nothing to do with video nasties, Terry!’ she sparred back, keeping things light.

  ‘You’ve all heard about bitcoin, yes?’

  There were mutters around the table. They’d all heard about it, with the exception of Terry who made some terrible joke about half-eaten chocolate coins in his Christmas stocking. It fell flat. The consensus was that they’d heard of bitcoin, but hadn’t got a clue what it was.

  ‘Well, in 2011 even fewer people knew about it and it was really complicated to buy. So that afternoon Luke and I set ourselves a challenge. The first one to find out how to buy bitcoin didn’t have to make the next cup of tea. That was it. But it kept us both occupied all afternoon.’

  ‘Did you find out how to do it?’ Rhett said, wishing his wife Naomi had been able to make it to the meal to hear the news.

  ‘Luke did,’ Caitlen smiled, ‘and I had to make the next cup of tea. I’d completely forgotten about it until I checked my old computer last week. But I’ve still got the bitcoin I bought on that day.’

  Terry was clueless as to what she was suggesting, but their other guests had cottoned on straight away. They’d seen the sneering news reports about millennials who’d paid off their university fees with cryptocurrency and lucky couples who’d invested tiny amounts years ago and were now millionaires.

  ‘My goodness, how much is it worth now?’ said Kasey.

  He was a fellow geek, he and Caitlen often bonded over code. He understood exactly what she was saying. Even Terry had shut up now. He hadn’t got a clue what they were talking about but he could see Caitlen now had the undivided attention of the room. Anything capable of usurping Becky’s engagement announcement had to be worth listening to.