by D. S. Butler
There was a click as the door unlocked and Brendan pulled it open. He looked at the hole in his door and narrowed his eyes. Only one door panel was missing. The other was hanging off, still attached to the door.
Mackinnon quickly assessed the situation. Brendan held a knife, a long kitchen blade. He was tall, only a couple of inches shorter than Mackinnon and looked athletic. Brendan clutched the arm of the woman beside him, who matched the description of Wendy Willson. Her eyes were unfocused and staring. Had he drugged her?
“Stand back,” Brendan ordered. He was trying to hold too many things. Clutching Wendy’s arm with his left hand, he held the knife with his right. Under his left arm, he held some kind of clear box.
Within seconds, they were soaked by the heavy rain.
“I said stand back!” Brendan barked as another crash of thunder rang out.
“Brendan, you should put down the knife. This isn’t going to have a good outcome. You need to let Dr Willson go.”
“No, she is my assistant. I need an assistant.”
“Sure, but you don’t need the knife. You don’t want to hurt anybody, do you, Brendan?”
His eyes darted around, probably looking for the police officers. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I haven’t hurt you, have I?” He nudged Wendy, and she staggered a little and then swayed on her feet. He’d definitely used something to drug her.
Sirens sounded in the background. Backup was close now. Mackinnon just needed to get Brendan to put down the knife and let go of Wendy.
“Stand back. We’re leaving. If you try to follow us, you’ll regret it,” Brendan warned as the rain began to ease.
“Be sensible, Brendan. You aren’t going to get away with this. If you cooperate and put the knife down, things will go a lot easier for you.”
He struggled to manoeuvre the glass case. “It’s not the knife you have to worry about. It’s these.”
For the first time, Mackinnon fully focused on the glass box. It was filled with bugs – tiny bedbugs.
“What are you doing with those?” Mackinnon asked.
Brendan’s eyes lit up. “They’re my research subjects. They carry a parasite. If you don’t get away from us, I’m gonna release them and infect everybody in the neighbourhood.”
He tried to lift the case higher and lost his grip on the knife. It clattered to the floor, and Mackinnon moved fast, kicking the knife away until it skidded beneath a Fiesta parked outside the house next door.
“Don’t come any closer!” Brendan screeched, yanking Wendy’s arm and pulling her across the yellow, patchy lawn that was now sodden.
“Let her go,” Mackinnon said firmly.
Brendan was now unarmed apart from the weird box of bugs he held tightly against his chest. One-on-one, Mackinnon could take him, but Wendy seemed to be out of it. He didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.
Brendan’s neighbours were looking down anxiously from upstairs windows, and a group of teenagers were watching from across the street. Great. An audience. Just what they needed.
“If you come any closer I’m gonna release these and infect everybody.” Brendan shook the box vigorously.
Gary from the pest control company hadn’t mentioned parasites could be spread by bedbugs. In the course of his research, Mackinnon had read the bugs weren’t thought to spread disease. But Brendan’s conviction gave him pause.
Then suddenly, Wendy elbowed Brendan in the ribs and pulled away from him. He released his hold on her and she ran to Mackinnon.
Standing behind Mackinnon, she shouted, “He’s delusional. There are no parasites. I’ve been trying to get him help for ages.”
“That’s not true,” Brendan said his face flushed and taut with anger. “You’ll see. I’ll be proved right in the end.”
With a harsh yell, he threw the glass box on the floor, and it shattered, the bugs scuttling in every direction.
Mackinnon cursed.
Using the distraction, Brendan tried to make a run for it, but Mackinnon was too quick for him. Within a few feet, he’d grabbed Brendan and forced him to the ground. They both hit the pavement with a thud.
“Don’t worry. They’re really not infected with a parasite,” Wendy said, blinking at Mackinnon as she sat on the wet ground. “I feel so tired.”
Even if the bugs weren’t infected with a parasite, Mackinnon felt sorry for the neighbours. They would still be a frustrating nuisance.
Mackinnon pulled one of Brendan’s arms behind his back and pinned it there. “Brendan Maynard, I’m arresting you for the murder of Ashley Burrows and the abduction of Tammy Holt and Dr Wendy Willson. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say –”
“I didn’t do anything! I didn’t kill her!” Brendan screeched, writhing, as Mackinnon struggled to keep him still.
Sirens grew louder, and a police car screeched to a stop just in front of 9, Pine Avenue.
DI Tyler got out and slammed the door behind him.
“Mackinnon, what a surprise.”
“I could do with a little help here,” Mackinnon replied as Brendan struggled to break free.
It took two PCs to help Mackinnon subdue Brendan Maynard and get the handcuffs fastened.
When they finally put him in the back of the police car, Mackinnon went to find Tyler. The DI stood beside the back doors of an ambulance as they slammed shut. Both men watched the vehicle head off with Wendy Willson inside.
“How is she?” Mackinnon asked.
“The paramedics think he’s given her some kind of sedative, so they’re taking her into hospital just in case, but she has no physical injuries apart from a sprained ankle. She got the injury falling from the ladder to the loft. She told me he’s got delusional parasitosis. It’s a mental illness. Sufferers think they have parasites when they don’t.”
Mackinnon rubbed his hand over his face. “Well, now I suppose we need to get pest control in to get rid of those bugs that are probably burrowing their way into people’s houses as we speak.
“Already handled. A1 pest control is on the way,” Tyler said. “We need to search the house. You said the neighbour told you Penny Crumb died months ago.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, there’s no record of her death, which means she is either still alive or—”
“—Or you suspect her body is around here somewhere?”
“That about sums it up.”
Mackinnon and Tyler turned as the rumble of a transit engine alerted them to the crime scene van arriving.
“Time to get suited and booted,” Tyler said.
Chapter Forty-Five
Dressed in protective suits, Tyler and Mackinnon walked towards the property.
From the house next door, Trevor poked his head out of the downstairs window and said, “Is it safe to come out yet?”
Tyler headed inside number nine, and Mackinnon paused by the wire fence that separated the front gardens of the two houses. From there, he could talk to Trevor without being overheard by the crowd gathering around the police tape. One press van had already turned up, and he was sure there would be more to follow.
“It is, but we’re going to be here for a while yet. The streets will be jammed with vehicles and police personnel for a while. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Don’t apologise!” Trevor leaned further out of the window, resting his forearms on the window sill. “I should be thanking you.”
Trevor looked down at the bright red dahlias planted beneath his kitchen window and shivered. “I can’t believe he was living next door all this time and we had no idea. Er, what exactly did he do?”
“We don’t have all the answers yet,” Mackinnon said. “We’re still investigating, but I do have a question for you. Which of the garages did Penny and Brendan use?”
Trevor turned his head and squinted in the direction of the garage block. “They had the first one on the right. The one with the white door. I used to have a key. Penny was quite forgetful, and she gave
my wife and me spare copies of her front door and garage keys, but after she died, Brendan was adamant we hand them both over.” He shrugged. “He was very insistent and said he never lost things. A complete contrast to his mum, who was forever mislaying things. That was Penny,” he chuckled. “I lost track of the times she left her keys at work.”
“So Brendan took back both keys, for the front door and the garage?” Mackinnon asked, turning to look at the garage with the white door. Interesting. They already knew there was something in the house Brendan wanted to hide from prying eyes – both his odd collection of bugs and the abducted women he’d kept in the loft, but was there something he needed to hide in the garage as well?
“Thanks Trevor. You’ve been very helpful.”
“Not at all. Happy to be of assistance,” Trevor called as Mackinnon walked across the lawn.
He passed the beaten up front door and carefully followed the markers on the floor, indicating the correct path to walk into the property, aiming to minimise contamination of the crime scene.
One of the crime scene officers was taking a photograph of a blood smear on the staircase.
“Have you seen any keys?” Mackinnon asked. “I’m looking for the garage key. I want to take a look inside.”
The man straightened from his crouched position. “I did see them somewhere. But we’ll be moving onto the garage after we’ve finished here if you don’t mind waiting?”
“Actually, I’d like to take a look now,” Mackinnon said. “I won’t mess anything up. I promise.”
There was only a small section of the man’s face visible beneath his hooded paper suit. The crime scene officer’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Hang on a minute.”
He called the crime scene manager over.
Mackinnon recognised him from previous cases. “Darren! Good to see you again. I hope you can help me. I want to take a look inside the garage ASAP. Do you have the keys?”
“Probably. Maynard’s keys were put in an evidence bag. The garage key will probably be on his keyring.”
Darren disappeared into the living room and then came back out holding a box with clear plastic bags inside.
He held one up. “These are the only keys we’ve found so far.”
There were four keys on the ring, along with a plastic picture of a kitten. Mackinnon guessed the larger keys would fit the locks on the front and back doors of 9, Pine Avenue. The third Yale key likely fit the front door of Brendan Maynards’s flat in North Quay Road.
The fourth key was smaller than the others and a different shape. That was probably the one for the garage.
“Is it all right if I take these. I just want to take a quick look at the garage before you guys start your search.”
“Absolutely,” Darren said. “You know the procedure. Don’t touch anything unnecessarily, and make sure you’re wearing—”
Darren broke off and grinned when Mackinnon held up a gloved hand. “I’m already wearing them.”
“Then I’ll just sign the form to record the fact you’ve taken the keys. Bring them back when you’re done.” Darren handed him the plastic bag.
After walking outside, Mackinnon ripped open the plastic and removed the keyring. The crowd had grown even larger. Neighbours were gossiping among themselves, and a couple of journalists were calling out questions to the PC standing beside the police tape.
As he headed to the garage, he caught sight of PC Connor and called her over. “Would you mind sectioning off the garages for me? We need to make sure none of the residents enters the garage block until we’ve finished the search.”
As PC Connor headed off to find the police tape, Mackinnon took a look at the white garage door. The handle in the middle of the door looked rusty, but the key fitted perfectly and turned easily enough. He eased the lock clockwise and then leaned down, grabbing the base of the metal garage door and lifting it up. It opened with a protesting squeal.
The air was musty. There was no car in the garage or any other vehicles except an old BMX that had definitely seen better days. A metal shelf rack stood on the right, holding two tool boxes, a foot pump and multiple cardboard boxes, containing what looked like photo albums.
None of that caught Mackinnon’s attention as firmly as the item right at the back of the garage.
It was dark, but as Mackinnon’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he spotted a light switch in the corner of the garage. The wires weren’t enclosed in any casing. Had the wiring been a DIY job? It looked like Brendan had needed power in the garage.
Bracing himself for what he might find, Mackinnon walked over the dusty concrete floor.
Right at the back, plugged in at the wall, was a large chest freezer.
Its white surface was battered and scratched, and it emitted a constant low hum, probably struggling to keep the internal temperature down in this heat. A padlock had been looped around the chrome handle.
Mackinnon reached for it, testing the lock, but the padlock held firm. There were no other keys on the keyring.
He headed back out of the garage and called PC Connor over. “Would you mind asking one of the crime scene techs if they’ve got some equipment that could break a padlock?”
When PC Connor hurried off, Mackinnon stood by the freshly hung crime scene tape to make sure nobody came too close. It wasn’t long before PC Connor came back with a short, ruddy-faced man carrying a camera and a pair of bolt cutters. He was dressed similarly to Mackinnon, in a white hooded suit. The skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
“So where is the padlock?” he asked.
“In there,” Mackinnon said pointing to the freezer at the back.
The crinkles around the man’s eyes disappeared as he stopped smiling. “Oh, I see.”
Both men entered the garage, leaving PC Connor at the police tape.
“There aren’t many reasons a person would lock a freezer, are there?” the crime scene tech said as he snapped a couple of photographs of the freezer and the padlock.
“No, there aren’t.”
The bolt cutters made short work of the padlock. Mackinnon braced himself.
When the crime scene tech removed the remains of the broken lock, Mackinnon slowly lifted the freezer lid.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. He’d known what was coming, and yet the sight of it made his stomach churn.
There, curled up at the bottom of the freezer, mouth open in a voiceless scream, was the frozen body of Penny Crumb.
Chapter Forty-Six
DC Charlotte Brown headed out of Tammy Holt’s ward. The young woman was doing well and due to be discharged. Charlotte had found recording her story harrowing, but was impressed by Tammy’s resilience.
She’d been pleased to be able to tell Tammy, Brendan Maynard was in custody.
No doubt, the ramifications of what had happened to the young woman would echo for a long time, but it was heartwarming to see the interaction between Tammy, her sister and mother. She had a strong support network, and Charlotte hoped that would help her in the weeks and months ahead.
They’d need to speak to her again, but Charlotte had the preliminary statement, and she felt that covered things for now. It would be enough to make DI Tyler happy.
Charlotte had heard Wendy Willson had been brought to the hospital, and since she was there anyway, decided to look in on the doctor.
A very busy, harassed-looking nurse agreed to let Charlotte make a quick visit. Wendy hadn’t yet been admitted to a ward and was currently in one of the cubicles at the rear of the accident and emergency department.
The nurse pulled back the curtains and announced, “Wendy, this is DC Charlotte Brown from the City of London Police. She wanted to have a quick word if you’re feeling up to it.”
Wendy was sitting on a stretcher bed, wearing a light blue hospital gown and had dark circles under her eyes. “Absolutely,” she said. “You did arrest him, didn’t you?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yes, he’s in custody.”
> The nurse left them, and Wendy sighed. “That’s a relief. He gave me some kind of sedative, and it knocked me for six. I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined his arrest.”
“Do the doctors know what he gave you?”
“They’re still running some more tests, but I had my stomach pumped and am on medication to absorb the rest of the nasty stuff that could be lingering in my stomach. I’m feeling much better, at least, my head is clearer. I still have a little dizziness.” She pulled the hospital gown across to cover her legs. “I really didn’t want to have my stomach pumped. Believe me, I made a most compelling argument against it, but the doctors ignored me. Good job, too, really. They were right. They do say doctors make the worst patients, don’t they?”
Charlotte smiled. “I won’t ask you too many questions today. We’ll probably follow up tomorrow if that works for you. We can come to you for a formal statement or you can come to the station. It’s completely up to you.”
“Okay. I should be feeling fine then.”
“Do you have a preferred contact number I can take?”
Wendy reeled off her mobile number. “Do you know what Brendan will be charged with?”
“Not yet, we need to do a mental health assessment before we’re even allowed to question him.”
“I have to admit I feel somewhat responsible. I’d known for a long time that he was struggling with things. If I could have helped him earlier maybe none of this would have happened.”
“I’m sure you tried your best. It can’t be an easy job.”
Wendy shook her head. “No, it isn’t. It seems to get harder every day.” She looked up at Charlotte. “But I shouldn’t complain, your job is probably not a bed of roses either!”
Charlotte grinned. “You could say that. It has its moments.”
A man appeared behind Charlotte, and Wendy said, “This is my husband. Pete, this is DC Brown. She’s asking me some questions.”
Pete put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and kissed her forehead.
“I think we can leave the questions for today,” Charlotte said. “I’ll leave you to recover and be in touch soon.”
