It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.
Every night for the next two weeks, exactly the same call at exactly the same time: 2.03am. Despite his asking the caller who she was, he had gained no information whatsoever, and even though he
kept telling her that Carl Bennington did not live here, the calls just kept continuing.
Eventually his patience snapped and he angrily shouted down the phone at her. There was a silence, then he heard the sound of her weeping. Now, of course, although still angry, he also felt
guilty, and he hastily apologised to her.
She eventually stopped weeping, and told him her name was Rebecca, then hung up. He didn't hear from her the following night, nor the night after that; in fact a week went by without any further
calls.
He could not get the calls out of his head. Who exactly was Carl Bennington, and who was Rebecca? Curiosity got the better of him, and he contacted his landlord to see if anyone by that name had
ever lived in the flat he now rented.
Alarmingly, his landlord, normally a very pleasant person, became very hostile when asked about Carl and Rebecca. The landlord grudgingly admitted that Carl had been the previous tenant of the
flat, but would say no more.
He sat down in front of his laptop computer, and nervously typed in the name Carl Bennington. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he read through the results - Carl had apparently butchered
his girlfriend, Rebecca, and then vanished without a trace. Reading on, he discovered that police could find no apparent motive for Rebecca's murder.
Carl and Rebecca, according to friends, had been madly in love, and had been together for over 3 years. Rebecca had owned her own house, not far from the flat where Carl had once lived. The house was now deserted - no one wanted to live there now, as it was the
place where Carl had supposedly murdered Rebecca. It was now all boarded up and surrounded by huge patches of weeds.
He decided, for no logical reason, to take a look at Rebecca's house. He was shocked to see just how derelict it had become in the two years since her death.
Walking round the back of the house, he noticed a couple of the boards were hanging loose from the window there - he peeped through the gap but could only see darkness inside. He hesitated, then pulled the boards completely off, a satisfying splintering sound ringing in his ears. Soon, there was enough of a gap to climb through the
window into a very dusty and damp smelling room. Something else hit his nostrils; sharp and very unpleasant. What on earth could it be?
As his eyes became accustomed to the dark, his heart almost stopped beating as there before him, hanging from a rope from the ceiling, was a skeleton, partially covered in tattered clothing.
He stood still for many minutes, too shocked to move. He spotted a dusty envelope next to the skeleton, on the floor, and when he was finally able to move again, he reached down to pick it
up. Opening the envelope, he found the following letter inside:
"My name is Carl Bennington and I murdered my girlfriend Rebecca in this very house. I do not know why I killed her, only that I became overwhelmed with intense rage just before I killed her.
Afterwards I felt an extremely inner calm. Then, realising what I had done, I ran. But my guilt became too much to bear, so I returned here to take my own life. May God forgive me."
He returned home, completely stunned and not sure what to do next. He eventually fell asleep, exhausted by the day's events, only to be woken by the sound of ringing... The telephone! He
hurriedly grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear. It was Rebecca! Once again she asked for Carl.
"Carl does not live here," he told her, "but I know where you can find him."