Disclaimer – see chapter one
Chapter 18
A week later...
The door opened and Catherine looked up at Marc. When he didn't immediately slam it shut in her face, she tentatively tried a greeting.
"Hi."
Marc gave a small smile, and responded, "Hi."
"I know I'm probably the last – "
Marc cut her off. "Please, come in... I've been meaning to call you. To apologise," he explained as he closed the door behind her.
"Oh, there's no need... There's nothing for you to apologise for."
"I was horrible to you... I could see that you were upset, you obviously didn't like it any more than I did, but I just... snapped."
"Honestly, you don't need to apologise..." Catherine assured him as she followed him through to the living room.
"I've just been sorting through some of Ryanne's stuff," he explained, gesturing the piles of photo albums spread around the room. A smile formed as he said: "She's done some crazy things." Then, realising what he had said, the smile slowly fell again and a momentary awkward silence fell over the room.
To break the silence Catherine offered a small smile, then said, "Do you mind if I have a look?"
Marc shook his head and the two of them sat down on the sofa. Catherine picked up the nearest photo album. Turning to the first page they both laughed at a photograph of Ryanne, in a giraffe outfit, sitting in a tree. Catherine looked at Marc questioningly.
"Some fundraising event when she was at college," he explained.
"Ah!" Catherine smiled.
A few pages later they came across a number of pictures that were ripped, either leaving just Ryanne, or Ryanne and one or two other people.
"Ah," Marc said upon seeing them, "These obviously had Karl in them."
"Ex-boyfriend?" Catherine asked with an understanding nod.
"Yeah. They were together all through college, then he went crazily jealous when Ryanne started acting. He started following her to the sets and picking fights with her leading men. Then one day he hit her and that was the final straw."
Catherine shook her head. "Men!... No offence."
"None taken," Marc smiled. "It always annoyed her that there was one picture she couldn't cut him out of. It was a group photo and he was in too awkward a place without ruining the rest of it."
Marc took the album and flipped through two more pages of torn photographs before stopping at a page with two group photographs on. "Here... That's him there. Ryanne had a party to celebrate the release of her first film, and she invited him, thinking they might be able to salvage a friendship. But he got drunk and they got into another fight. Thankfully his family moved to Africa and he went with them. Ryanne said it still wasn't far enough away, but she couldn't find anyone to send him to the moon."
Marc's speaking slowed when he noticed the thoughtful look on Catherine's face.
"Catherine? Are you okay?"
"Yeah... Can I borrow this? I'll explain later. If this is what I think it is."
Marc frowned. "Sure."
*****
Grissom followed Catherine towards Brass's office.
"Cath? Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked, having to virtually run in order to keep up with her.
She had called him at home and told him to meet her at the police station. Apparently she had done the same with Brass, as the detective looked half asleep when they reached him.
"What's so important?" Brass asked as Catherine burst through the door.
"Do you recognise this man?" she asked, dropping an enhanced section of the photograph onto the desk.
Brass picked it up and studied it closely. "It looks like a very young Pete Hooper."
Catherine smiled triumphantly, then frowned as she realised what he'd said. "Pete?"
Brass nodded.
Grissom was lost in this conversation so far. "The landlord?"
Catherine quickly nodded to answer Grissom's question then turned back to Brass. "Not Karl Hooper?"
Brass shook his head. "What's going on? Where did you get this?"
"This is a picture of Ryanne Moores' ex-boyfriend, who moved to Africa shortly after this picture was taken, and who she did not have an amicable break-up from."
Brass and Grissom's eyes all widened as they came to the same conclusion she had.
Catherine smiled. "Exactly."
*****
Mr Hooper was outside the apartment block talking to some children when the detective and CSIs arrived. They had parked their cars down the street so he wouldn't be expecting them.
In keeping with their plan, Catherine walked into the car park first and shouted "Karl!"
Mr Hooper immediately turned round, asking, "What?"
Catherine smiled. "Guess that answers that question."
*****
Hooper and his lawyer sat in the interrogation room opposite Brass and Catherine. The suspect's body language oozed confidence, as he sat back in his chair, one arm draped over the back of it, the other loosely resting in his lap. Very different, Brass noted, from the business like man who had brought in the photograph and file.
"Mr Hooper," Brass began. "What was your relationship with Ryanne Moores?"
Hooper frowned and looked at his lawyer who nodded. He then turned back to Brass. "We used to date. In college. Haven't seen her in about fifteen years."
"Really?" Brass asked.
Hooper frowned and nodded.
"Do you recognise this picture?" Brass said, dropping a photograph of 'Anne Morris' onto the table.
"Yes. I gave you that. It's the woman who rented that apartment... Oh, so I guess I have seen her. The papers are saying that's Ryanne. I didn't recognise her at the time."
Catherine smiled. "This isn't the picture you gave us."
Hooper sat forward and looked closely at the photograph and a look of panic washed over his face.
Catherine stood up, dropping several more pictures of the same woman onto the table as she spoke. "And neither is this one... this one... this one... or this one... All found on your computer. And all available on the internet. If you know where to look."
"Which you did," Brass continued. "Because you knew Ryanne when she made this film. It didn't do very well, very few people would recognise that that's where the pictures came from."
Hooper was defiantly silent.
"You don't need to talk, Mr Hooper," Catherine took over. "Your computer says it all for you."
"My client is a fan of Miss Moores, that's why the photographs were on his computer," the lawyer tried.
"Oh," Catherine said. "Well he wasn't a fan anymore. They'd all been deleted. As had this." Catherine placed a copy of the photograph he had given them onto the table.
"Again, this doesn't prove anything. He is entitled to delete whatever he likes from his computer."
Catherine nodded. "I agree... But this," she pointed to the last photograph, "doesn't exist on the internet in this form. It's a cropped version of this." She placed another photograph onto the table this time a full length shot of the woman, from the shoulders up, it being the same photograph. "And both were found amongst your client's deleted files."
"Miss Moores could easily have cropped a copy of that picture herself, and my client could have cropped his copy for many innocent reasons."
Catherine nodded again. "Again, I agree. But we also found these."
The lawyer opened the folder that Catherine handed to him and examined the contents. Copies of the letters that had been sent to Marc.
"You figured you would never be a suspect, didn't you?" Brass asked.
"You had no reason to be sending death threats to Marc Weston, and no reason to want to kill him," Catherine added.
"And we fell for it," Brass admitted.
"We thought the whole thing was about Marc."
"When all along it was your intention to kill Ryanne. Quite an elaborate plan."
"One thing we didn't understand though is how you could be so sure you could kill Ryanne on the night of the premiere... I mean, your threats implied that something would happen that night. And it did."
"There's no way you could get into that house, how could you be sure to poison her that night?"
An evil smirk spread onto Hooper's face. "That bitch was still as crazy as the day I met her."
The lawyer's eyes widened as he heard his client beginning to confess. He turned to him quickly and tried to stop him, but he ignored him. He had put a lot of time and effort into this, he wanted it to be appreciated.
"She had this obsession with water. And used to keep bottles and bottles of it in the fridge. Lined up, seven a day, in order, so she could make sure she drank seven every day. She was neurotic about it. But I loved her. So I accepted it... When I opened the fridge and saw how many bottles of water were in there I knew she was still as obsessive as ever. And it gave me the idea. I knew if I threatened action at the premiere, Marc would never let her go. She'd be home, she'd drink the water. And he'd return home to find her dead."
"And it would look like Marc had been the target," Catherine commented.
Hooper smiled proudly. "At first I didn't care which one of them died. Either way, she would suffer... But when I knew that it would be her that drank it, that seemed like a better idea."
"And then you just sat back and watched us pick up all your breadcrumbs. The apartment, the computer, the emails" Brass said.
"Yep... Newspapers are a wonderful thing. Keeping you up to date on what you're all doing... I must admit I did feel a little sad that the world would never know of all my hard work," Hooper grinned.
Catherine leaned over the table towards him, her glare boring into him. "Oh, don't worry, you're gonna get all the publicity you deserve!"
THE END
Chapter 18
A week later...
The door opened and Catherine looked up at Marc. When he didn't immediately slam it shut in her face, she tentatively tried a greeting.
"Hi."
Marc gave a small smile, and responded, "Hi."
"I know I'm probably the last – "
Marc cut her off. "Please, come in... I've been meaning to call you. To apologise," he explained as he closed the door behind her.
"Oh, there's no need... There's nothing for you to apologise for."
"I was horrible to you... I could see that you were upset, you obviously didn't like it any more than I did, but I just... snapped."
"Honestly, you don't need to apologise..." Catherine assured him as she followed him through to the living room.
"I've just been sorting through some of Ryanne's stuff," he explained, gesturing the piles of photo albums spread around the room. A smile formed as he said: "She's done some crazy things." Then, realising what he had said, the smile slowly fell again and a momentary awkward silence fell over the room.
To break the silence Catherine offered a small smile, then said, "Do you mind if I have a look?"
Marc shook his head and the two of them sat down on the sofa. Catherine picked up the nearest photo album. Turning to the first page they both laughed at a photograph of Ryanne, in a giraffe outfit, sitting in a tree. Catherine looked at Marc questioningly.
"Some fundraising event when she was at college," he explained.
"Ah!" Catherine smiled.
A few pages later they came across a number of pictures that were ripped, either leaving just Ryanne, or Ryanne and one or two other people.
"Ah," Marc said upon seeing them, "These obviously had Karl in them."
"Ex-boyfriend?" Catherine asked with an understanding nod.
"Yeah. They were together all through college, then he went crazily jealous when Ryanne started acting. He started following her to the sets and picking fights with her leading men. Then one day he hit her and that was the final straw."
Catherine shook her head. "Men!... No offence."
"None taken," Marc smiled. "It always annoyed her that there was one picture she couldn't cut him out of. It was a group photo and he was in too awkward a place without ruining the rest of it."
Marc took the album and flipped through two more pages of torn photographs before stopping at a page with two group photographs on. "Here... That's him there. Ryanne had a party to celebrate the release of her first film, and she invited him, thinking they might be able to salvage a friendship. But he got drunk and they got into another fight. Thankfully his family moved to Africa and he went with them. Ryanne said it still wasn't far enough away, but she couldn't find anyone to send him to the moon."
Marc's speaking slowed when he noticed the thoughtful look on Catherine's face.
"Catherine? Are you okay?"
"Yeah... Can I borrow this? I'll explain later. If this is what I think it is."
Marc frowned. "Sure."
*****
Grissom followed Catherine towards Brass's office.
"Cath? Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked, having to virtually run in order to keep up with her.
She had called him at home and told him to meet her at the police station. Apparently she had done the same with Brass, as the detective looked half asleep when they reached him.
"What's so important?" Brass asked as Catherine burst through the door.
"Do you recognise this man?" she asked, dropping an enhanced section of the photograph onto the desk.
Brass picked it up and studied it closely. "It looks like a very young Pete Hooper."
Catherine smiled triumphantly, then frowned as she realised what he'd said. "Pete?"
Brass nodded.
Grissom was lost in this conversation so far. "The landlord?"
Catherine quickly nodded to answer Grissom's question then turned back to Brass. "Not Karl Hooper?"
Brass shook his head. "What's going on? Where did you get this?"
"This is a picture of Ryanne Moores' ex-boyfriend, who moved to Africa shortly after this picture was taken, and who she did not have an amicable break-up from."
Brass and Grissom's eyes all widened as they came to the same conclusion she had.
Catherine smiled. "Exactly."
*****
Mr Hooper was outside the apartment block talking to some children when the detective and CSIs arrived. They had parked their cars down the street so he wouldn't be expecting them.
In keeping with their plan, Catherine walked into the car park first and shouted "Karl!"
Mr Hooper immediately turned round, asking, "What?"
Catherine smiled. "Guess that answers that question."
*****
Hooper and his lawyer sat in the interrogation room opposite Brass and Catherine. The suspect's body language oozed confidence, as he sat back in his chair, one arm draped over the back of it, the other loosely resting in his lap. Very different, Brass noted, from the business like man who had brought in the photograph and file.
"Mr Hooper," Brass began. "What was your relationship with Ryanne Moores?"
Hooper frowned and looked at his lawyer who nodded. He then turned back to Brass. "We used to date. In college. Haven't seen her in about fifteen years."
"Really?" Brass asked.
Hooper frowned and nodded.
"Do you recognise this picture?" Brass said, dropping a photograph of 'Anne Morris' onto the table.
"Yes. I gave you that. It's the woman who rented that apartment... Oh, so I guess I have seen her. The papers are saying that's Ryanne. I didn't recognise her at the time."
Catherine smiled. "This isn't the picture you gave us."
Hooper sat forward and looked closely at the photograph and a look of panic washed over his face.
Catherine stood up, dropping several more pictures of the same woman onto the table as she spoke. "And neither is this one... this one... this one... or this one... All found on your computer. And all available on the internet. If you know where to look."
"Which you did," Brass continued. "Because you knew Ryanne when she made this film. It didn't do very well, very few people would recognise that that's where the pictures came from."
Hooper was defiantly silent.
"You don't need to talk, Mr Hooper," Catherine took over. "Your computer says it all for you."
"My client is a fan of Miss Moores, that's why the photographs were on his computer," the lawyer tried.
"Oh," Catherine said. "Well he wasn't a fan anymore. They'd all been deleted. As had this." Catherine placed a copy of the photograph he had given them onto the table.
"Again, this doesn't prove anything. He is entitled to delete whatever he likes from his computer."
Catherine nodded. "I agree... But this," she pointed to the last photograph, "doesn't exist on the internet in this form. It's a cropped version of this." She placed another photograph onto the table this time a full length shot of the woman, from the shoulders up, it being the same photograph. "And both were found amongst your client's deleted files."
"Miss Moores could easily have cropped a copy of that picture herself, and my client could have cropped his copy for many innocent reasons."
Catherine nodded again. "Again, I agree. But we also found these."
The lawyer opened the folder that Catherine handed to him and examined the contents. Copies of the letters that had been sent to Marc.
"You figured you would never be a suspect, didn't you?" Brass asked.
"You had no reason to be sending death threats to Marc Weston, and no reason to want to kill him," Catherine added.
"And we fell for it," Brass admitted.
"We thought the whole thing was about Marc."
"When all along it was your intention to kill Ryanne. Quite an elaborate plan."
"One thing we didn't understand though is how you could be so sure you could kill Ryanne on the night of the premiere... I mean, your threats implied that something would happen that night. And it did."
"There's no way you could get into that house, how could you be sure to poison her that night?"
An evil smirk spread onto Hooper's face. "That bitch was still as crazy as the day I met her."
The lawyer's eyes widened as he heard his client beginning to confess. He turned to him quickly and tried to stop him, but he ignored him. He had put a lot of time and effort into this, he wanted it to be appreciated.
"She had this obsession with water. And used to keep bottles and bottles of it in the fridge. Lined up, seven a day, in order, so she could make sure she drank seven every day. She was neurotic about it. But I loved her. So I accepted it... When I opened the fridge and saw how many bottles of water were in there I knew she was still as obsessive as ever. And it gave me the idea. I knew if I threatened action at the premiere, Marc would never let her go. She'd be home, she'd drink the water. And he'd return home to find her dead."
"And it would look like Marc had been the target," Catherine commented.
Hooper smiled proudly. "At first I didn't care which one of them died. Either way, she would suffer... But when I knew that it would be her that drank it, that seemed like a better idea."
"And then you just sat back and watched us pick up all your breadcrumbs. The apartment, the computer, the emails" Brass said.
"Yep... Newspapers are a wonderful thing. Keeping you up to date on what you're all doing... I must admit I did feel a little sad that the world would never know of all my hard work," Hooper grinned.
Catherine leaned over the table towards him, her glare boring into him. "Oh, don't worry, you're gonna get all the publicity you deserve!"
THE END