Diary of the Lost

The Case of Mr. Caterow

"He came at Mark with a knife," the newly widowed woman shrieked. "He came at him with the knife from inside the drawer in kitchen in the house in the-"

She was cut off by the sudden outburst of tears coming from her very own self. Detective Officer Camberwell entered the room, holding dozens of papers held together by a mere paperclip. The judge looked hopefully at Camberwell, but the detective only shook her head sadly. "Another dead end in this maze," said Camberwell. Judge McCain sighed and put her hand against her forehead, leaning on her arm. "Sheldon couldn't solve his case, either," McCain pointed out. Detective Camberwell shook her head again. "What are the chances of the murderer," the officer joked, "being the same man in each of these cases?"

The judge laughed. "You know, Detective, we're fortunate to have a soul like you in this soulless place," she pointed around the courtroom. Officer C. lowered her head. "We shouldn't be here if we have no one to blame," she stated. "Don't be hard on yourself, Camberwell. Cases like these aren't easy to solve," McCain said, trying to ease the stress.

"While that is true, they still need to be solved."

"I know, Detective. I have to go meet with some lawyers and witnesses now. You'll have a chance to speak with Mrs. Caterow."

"Ms. Caterow," she corrected.

The judge chuckled. "Ah, of course. How could I forget? After all, it's the main reason we're here," she said solemnly. Judge McCain grabbed her suitcase and exited, giving the widow and the detective time to discuss the murder.

But is it really murder? The tired detective had that question on her mind for a while now. Obviously Ms. Caterow wouldn't be any help. The woman needs.... mental help, thought Camberwell.

However, Kayte Camberwell would not let that stop her from getting every bit of information out of the widow.

Walking up to Ms. Caterow, she said, "I understand what shock you're in, ma'am, and I'm sorry for your loss. We're working hard to keep this case open, but to do that I'm going to need you to answer some questions."

Ms. Caterow, taking a deep, shuddering breath, replied saying, "I understand, Detective. I'm happy to help," and, after wiping her eyes with a tissue she had brought up to the stand, she looked Kayte in the eye, earning the detective's confidence.

"Thank you, Ms. Caterow. I appreciate it," she said, earning a nod from Ms. Caterow. "I understand that it was very late at night, in fact, almost morning; could you tell me what happened when you found out something was wrong?"

"I was reading; I read late at night when I don't have anything to do in the morning."

"How did you know your husband- may he rest in peace- had been kidnapped?"

"I didn't."

Camberwell looked up from her notepad. "You didn't know Mr. Caterow had been kidnapped?" The woman shook her head. "I didn't know until I found a note."

The detective stopped altogether. She furrowed her brow, deeply concerned. "A note?"

"Yes."

"What did it say?"

"It said... it said that Mark would be dead if I didn't lie to you about this," she said, avoiding her interrogator's gaze. "You do know that you will get charged if you like to us," Detective Camberwell warned. Ms. Caterow nodded.

"Continue, please."

"I can't remember anything else," the witness admitted. "All I can remember is someone coming at my husband with a knife, but I have this," she pulled out a crumpled note, "To remind me that Mark might not be dead yet."

Camberwell's eyes widened at the sight of the note. Leaning forward ever so slightly, she reached for the small slip of paper in Ms. Caterow's hand. Ms. Caterow, being the way she is, snatched the note from out in the open and slipped it inside her jacket.

Frowning, Camberwell said, "Miss, I truly am sorry for your loss. However, we need that note. Your husband does."

Ms. Caterow's eyes narrowed. "I will take this note," she said dramatically, "to the grave with me. Unless, of course, you find my dear husband."

"Then I'll just have to confiscate it, Ma'am."

"No!" The widow shrieked, scrunching up her face. "This is the only thing that will tell me that Mark is alive! I could never part with it."

Camberwell, growing frustrated with the demented woman, stood up to call a security guard to help her. Wait, she told herself,  I need to bring Miss Crazy with me. Turning around, she reached for the woman's arm. Unexpectedly, "Miss Crazy" let herself be led out of the courtroom. Camberwell stopped in front of the beautiful wood doors. She studied the wood carefully, as if lured into it's beauty.

Shaking her head clear of the thoughts, she had started to once again lead the widow to a security guard. Having found one, Camberwell met his eyes and told him everything through her gaze. He came over to the women, ready for a struggle.

"Detective," he said, nodding his head to Kayte. "Miss..."

"Caterow."

The eyes of the security guard seemed to widen, little by little. "Yes, I've heard. Sorry for your loss, Ma'am."

"Well, I suppose some things just have to be done, one way or another," Caterow said distantly. "Yes, I'm afraid we do pass at some point," the security guard responded.

"Yes, funny thing how death works. You see-"

Camberwell cleared her throat. "Can we get on with this?" She asked, looking at the guard. "Yes, my apologies."

It took twelve minutes to get Caterow to part with the note.  The detective carefully placed the note into a small bag, not wanting to look at what it said, for fear of finding out too much.

-----------------

Hours later, Camberwell met with Detective Sheldon.

"You look fine today, Kayte," he said, bringing a suitcase into the

"As do you," the second detective said in response. Her heart beat nervously in her chest. What if Sheldon had found something? Was his case really closed?

"The case," Sheldon said, seeing Camberwell's expression, "Is indeed closed- in a way."

"What do you mean, 'in a way'?"

"I'm going to keep investigating."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Yes, oh. I was hoping you could help with the case I've been assigned to," Camberwell said, slowly and uneasily. "Actually, I was just going to tell you-" Sheldon said, taking a seat in a leather chair, "- that we are going to be working on multiple cases."

"Pardon?"

"You, me, Detective Loudon, Detective Jane Kasie, and Perry Kennedy will be sharing and working on the same cases."

Kayte's face lit up. "Why, that's wonderful- however, it seems as if to cause confusion among us."

"Don't worry about the small details, we'll have it all figured ou-"

Someone came bursting into the office.

"Excuse me, detectives- but we may have just found something."