The Weeping Women (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 3)

by Patrick C Walsh

  That was the day Mac had seen her through the pub window.

  ‘I take it that the solicitor’s office is near here?’

  ‘Yes, it’s on Station Road but how would you know that?’

  ‘After you visited the solicitor’s you sat outside a pub just up the road from here. I saw you.’

  She looked surprised and more than a little embarrassed.

  ‘Yes, I remember that I had to sit down for a minute, I was feeling a bit sick. It was the shock of hearing about my sister I suppose. I didn’t think that anyone had noticed me though.’

  ‘Tell me about your sister.’

  ‘Well Danielle’s only a year younger than me but we couldn’t be more different. I went to university, got my degree and then got married but she dropped out after only a few months. She went absolutely wild, drink, drugs and so on. I persuaded her to come home and after a while she seemed to be happy there. She looked after my father and for that I was very grateful. You see he and I didn’t always get on and anyway she’d always been his favourite. That made it all the more unbelievable, that she’d steal from him.’

  ‘Did anyone else stand to gain from your father’s will?’

  ‘Only the housekeeper Mrs. Symonds as far as I know, everything else was to be split between Danielle and myself.’

  ‘Then she was really stealing from you, wasn’t she?’ Mac pointed out.

  Mrs. Lynn looked surprised.

  ‘Yes I suppose you’re right,’ she eventually said.

  Mac was thoughtful for a moment.

  ‘Okay if the solicitor confirms what you’ve said I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need his name and address and the address of your father’s house. Will I need a key to get in?’

  ‘Oh no, Mrs. Symonds still lives there. She’ll let you in and look after you. Just tell her that I sent you.’

  ‘I take it you’ll want to be there if I do manage to open the safe?’ Mac asked.

  ‘No I’m afraid I can’t. I’ll be on holiday with my husband in Devon. Not a great time of the year I know but I desperately need to get away for a while and I love the walking there. That’s how I met my husband you know, while I was hill walking…in Wales. We’re both very keen walkers.’

  Mac wasn’t sure that this was information he particularly needed. He just nodded.

  ‘Anyway, if you do manage to get the safe open please let me know straight away and I’ll drive back and collect whatever you’ve found.’

  ‘Are you planning on pressing charges if there is anything incriminating in the safe?’ he asked.

  She shook her head emphatically.

  ‘No I couldn’t do that to her. If anything has gone then the solicitor said he’ll be able to adjust the settlement. So long as she agrees that is.’

  ‘I’m sure she will, if the other option is going to jail.’

  Her face turned white.

  ‘It wouldn’t come to that, would it?’

  ‘If the sums were large enough almost definitely I’d say. Especially if the judge deems it to be elder abuse, they’re quite hot on that these days.’

  ‘Really?’ she muttered.

  Her face didn’t regain any colour.

  ‘Where’s your sister now by the way?’

  ‘As far as I know she’s gone back to New York.’

  ‘What’s her full name?’

  ‘Danielle Pierson. My father was Thomas Pierson.’

  Mac knew the name.

  ‘That’s Thomas Pierson, the painter?’

  She nodded.

  Thomas Pierson was something of a local celebrity. Over the last couple of decades he’d gained a worldwide reputation and quite a few of his paintings were currently hanging in the National Gallery.

  ‘Okay, if your solicitor confirms what you say then I’ll see what I can do.’

  She gave him the solicitor’s name and the name of his firm.

  ‘Thank you very much, Mr. Maguire. Please call me on this number if you manage to get the safe open. I’ll drive straight back and pick up the documents. Please don’t tell anyone else about this and don’t let Mrs. Symonds know about Danielle, in fact don’t tell her any more than you need to. My sister may be, well a thief I suppose, but I don’t want anyone else to know.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Mac had every intention of carrying on with his investigation into the Easter egg heists but he could still put out a few feelers while he was doing this. He took out his mobile phone and flicked through his contacts. It was still there. Mac hoped that he hadn’t changed his number in the last six months or so.

  He hadn’t.

  ‘Now here’s a blast from the past. How’s it going Mac? I thought you’d retired?’ a gruff Irish voice said.

  ‘Hello Micky. How’s business?’

  Micky Milligan was heavily into recycling, recycling information that is. He’d tell anyone what he knew for a price. He was a walking encyclopaedia of crime which is why Mac had used him a lot when he’d been in the force.

  ‘Oh you know a pound here, a pound there. I get by. What do you need?’

  ‘I need the name of a cracker. Do you know anyone?’

  ‘Oh Mac, don’t tell me that after all these years you’ve finally come over to the dark side?’

  Mac laughed out loud.

  ‘No, it’s all totally legit. Someone’s died and his family need the safe opening but they want to keep the police out of it. I just need someone who can open it without damaging the documents inside.’

  ‘Unfortunately we’re a bit short on talent in that department these days. Kids just don’t have the patience for that type of work anymore. Well if it’s legit why not ask Jimmy Carmichael? He’s gone straight or so I’ve heard.’

  ‘He’s out of jail?’

  ‘Yes, he got time off for good behaviour. I think he’s living in your neck of the woods somewhere.’

  Mac marvelled at the information that Micky kept in his head.

  ‘Thanks Micky. How much do I owe you?’

  ‘You can buy me a Guinness next time you’re in the area. Nice hearing from you again Mac. Take care’

  Mac made another call. If Jimmy was out then he’d be on probation. He knew someone in the service. He told them what he needed Jimmy for. They said they’d try and get a message to him.

  Mac sat for a while thinking about Jimmy Carmichael. ‘Robber Red’ the gutter press had dubbed him while the Times had called him the ‘Socialist Safecracker’. He was a very interesting man and Mac found that he was looking forward to meeting him again.

  Having made his calls there was nothing else he could do so he carried on reviewing the case files.

  It had just gone one when he got a call from Andy. It looked like the thief had struck again except this time someone had been seriously injured. Mac arranged to meet Andy at the hospital straight away.

  As he drove there he couldn’t throw off the feeling that it was all wrong somehow. Had the Chocolate Thief really gone over to the dark side?

  Chapter Five

  He met Andy in the lobby of the hospital A&E department.

  ‘Have you been to see her?’ Mac asked.

  Andy nodded.

  ‘Unfortunately she’s asleep but the doctor says that she should be okay.’

  ‘What do we know?’ Mac asked.

  ‘The victim is a seventy year old widow, Mrs. Doris Westwood, who lives in Henlow. It looks like she’s fallen from the top of the stairs to the bottom. Nothing broken as far as they can see but she’s had quite a bang on the head.’

  ‘What makes you think that this is linked to the other burglaries?’

  ‘Looks like the same MO, glass pane smashed at the back and the glass is gone. She’s likely to be asleep for a while, fancy having a look around her house while we wait?’

  Mac climbed into Andy’s car. He drove them to a white rendered terraced house on the High Street in Henlow. Andy opened the front door which led straight into the living room. It was a parlour with old
fashioned, but very well looked after, furniture and a couple of glass cases holding ornaments. Mac grew up in a house just like this and it felt incredibly familiar to him.

  Just beyond the living room door there were some stairs on the right hand side and beyond that a large kitchen.

  ‘She was found here,’ Andy said pointing to the foot of the stairs.

  ‘Have you got the call?’

  Andy took out his phone, selected the recording of the 999 call and passed it to Mac.

  ‘999. What service do you require?’ a woman’s voice said.

  Then another woman’s voice but this time it was faint and weak.

  ‘I fell… I fell…’

  ‘Did you fall love? Are you hurt?’

  ‘Yes I fell….’

  A moment’s silence.

  ‘We’ve traced your number. Are you Mrs. Doris Westwood living in Henlow?’

  ‘Yes, Doris that’s me…I fell.’

  ‘Doris an ambulance is on the way. They’ll be with you in a few minutes.’

  ‘Ambulance is coming…’

  ‘Doris are you still there?’

  The line had gone dead.

  ‘So she managed to call in then,’ Mac said. ‘Where was she when the ambulance arrived?’

  ‘Right there where she fell,’ Andy replied, pointing to the foot of the stairs.

  The phone was on a sixties style telephone seat a good seven or eight feet away.

  ‘No-one’s moved anything have they?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Not as far as I know.’

  ‘I take it that it was the landline she used if they could trace the call that quickly?’

  ‘Yes it must have been. She has a mobile phone but it was found upstairs on her bedside table.’

  ‘Then how did she call it in?’ Mac asked. ‘I doubt she’d have got up and walked to the phone and then walked back and laid herself down again.’

  ‘Yes, it looks like someone else must have been here,’ Andy said.

  Mac took the phone and walked towards the spot where Mrs. Westwood was found. The cable just about stretched.

  ‘Let me hear that call again.’

  Mac listened closely but, if there was someone else there, they were very careful not to get themselves recorded.

  They had a look around the house. It was full of the clutter of a lifetime but tidy enough. Mac looked at the ranked rows of framed photographs on a sideboard. The history of another family laid out before him. Births, marriages, holidays and old black and white photos of men in strange suits and uniforms.

  ‘Here look at this,’ Andy said.

  He showed Mac a supermarket receipt. It was time stamped just seven or eight hours before Mrs. Westwood had her fall. Mac read down the list and, near the bottom, there it was. A six pack of Mars bars.

  ‘I take it that there’s no Mars bars in the fridge or cupboards?’ Mac asked.

  Andy shook his head.

  ‘So, unless she ate all the Mars bars in a few hours, it looks like it’s definitely our man again.’

  ‘By the way how did the paramedics get in?’ Mac asked. ‘I didn’t notice any damage to the door.’

  ‘Apparently it was open when they got here.’

  Mac gave this some thought.

  ‘Yes, it’s the sixth burglary alright but this time it might have been a lucky one for Mrs. Westwood. I think it’s quite possible that our man saved her life. I think that when he broke in he found her lying at the foot of the stairs. He knew better than to move her just in case it might make her injuries worse so he brought the phone to her. She was just about conscious enough to say something and luckily it was enough to get the ambulance on its way. He even left the front door open for them. I wonder what he’d have done if she’d have been unconscious? Anyway it could well be that Mrs. Westwood might have been lying there yet if he hadn’t broken in. I still haven’t been able to figure out what he was after though.’

  ‘Yes it’s a puzzle, isn’t it? But then again you like puzzles, don’t you?’ Andy said.

  Mac smiled. Andy was spot on there.

  Andy’s phone rang.

  ‘She’s awake? Okay, we’ll be right there.’ Andy turned off the phone. ‘Mrs. Westwood has woken up. Let’s see what she’s got to say, shall we?’

  Mrs. Westwood had definitely been in the wars. Her face and arms were black and blue which clashed a bit with the wide smile she had on her face.

  The doctor told them that they’d confirmed that nothing major had been damaged or broken just a lot of painful soft tissue injuries and a bump on the head. However they were keeping her in for a few days observation just in case.

  ‘Good afternoon Mrs. Westwood,’ Andy said as he showed her his warrant card. ‘I’m DI Andy Reid. Are you okay to talk for a few minutes?’

  ‘Oh yes dear, I never turn down a bit of company.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘A bit shaken I suppose but not too bad. They’re really looking after me in here, the nurses are very nice.’

  ‘Can you tell us what happened?’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember everything. I’ve already told the doctor, he was worried in case I’d lost my marbles, but they’re all still there thank God. It was all Sparky’s fault. God, she can be very stupid sometimes.’

  ‘Who’s Sparky?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Why she’s my cat of course.’

  ‘So how was it the cat’s fault?’

  ‘She usually sleeps on the bed but last night she wouldn’t come into the bedroom for some reason so I went out on the landing to get her. When I tried to pick her up she ran between my legs and I nearly stepped on her. In trying to avoid hurting her I ended up hurting myself. I lost my balance and went head over heels down the stairs. I think I went a bit unconscious for a while.’

  ‘Do you remember making the phone call?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Yes but it’s all a bit hazy. I remember trying to move but I couldn’t. I was really scared then, I knew I could be lying there for days.’

  ‘Don’t you have any family or people who visit regularly?’ Mac asked.

  ‘My son lives in Scotland and he comes down as often as he can. He’s flying down here now so the doctor said. He’s asked me to go and live up there with him but I’d sooner stay where I am. I’ve got lots of lunch clubs and places I go but I like having my home to myself.’

  ‘What happened next?’ Andy prompted.

  She screwed her face up.

  ‘It’s strange, like it was a dream or something. I felt a hand on my wrist which is what I think woke me up. I looked up at him, he was all black.’

  ‘You mean he was a black man?’ Andy asked.

  ‘He could have been dear for all I could see of him. No I meant he was dressed all in black, quite tight fitting it was too. He had a black balaclava on too. God I haven’t seen one of those in years. He was a young man, I could tell that. He had a nice bum too,’ she said with a wicked little smile.

  Andy and Mac couldn’t help smiling too.

  ‘Anyway he brought the phone over and rang 999 and then held it so I could speak. Once the ambulance said it was on its way he put the phone back then he stayed with me holding my hand until I saw the blue lights. I must have blacked out again because the next thing I knew I woke up here.’

  ‘He never said anything?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Not that I can remember. Do you know who he is?’

  ‘We think he might be a burglar, he’s broken into some other properties too,’ Andy replied.

  ‘A burglar? Well I say. I’ve never been robbed before so it must have been my lucky day when he broke in.’

  ‘We think he stole a packet of Mars bars.’

  ‘He stole my Mars bars? Well God bless him he could have the whole house as far as I’m concerned.’

  Outside the hospital Andy said, ‘It’s a strange case, isn’t it? What type of burglar breaks into six properties, only steals chocolate and then saves a woman’s life?’

  ‘Perhaps he
was kind of responsible for Mrs. Westwood’s fall though.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I’m wondering if the cat knew there was someone strange in the house. Animals can be very good at that sort of thing, perhaps that why the cat’s behaviour was different. Anyway, as you said I like a puzzle and I’m going to keep at this one until I find the answer.’

  ‘I’m really glad to hear you say that. It’s starting to bug me a bit now so if you find anything please give me a ring straight away.’ Andy looked at his watch. ‘I’m going to knock off. I said I’d give the wife a lift to the supermarket and I’m already late. See you Monday perhaps.’

  ‘Yes, see you then,’ Mac replied.

  He went back to his office and the case files. Tim said that he should be back by six. Mac was glad because by the time six o’clock came he’d had enough. He’d not got an inch further and he decided it was time for a drink.

  He rang Tim who said he was twenty minutes away. As he slowly walked up the hill towards the Three Magnets he tried to let the facts swirl around his head and not to think too hard about them.

  Six burglarieswhere only chocolate was stolen. All professionally carried out and all within a six mile radius of Letchworth. The only problem was there was not even the hint of a clue as to why. Mac was certain that there was something that tied these six properties together. But what could it possibly be?

  He opened the door of the pub and felt a sudden fear run through him. He sat down at table thirteen and, hands slightly trembling, he got his phone out. He was totally shocked and appalled by what he read. He went to the bar and got a round of beers with Irish whiskey chasers.

  He knew that Tim would need a stiff drink when he heard the news.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday – Seven days before Easter

  Mac woke up late having slept well once again. Even after having a wash he still felt a bit groggy and realised he may have had a pint or two more than normal the night before. He had good reason though.

  He still couldn’t quite believe it, winning 1-0 with two minutes to go and then the Villa let in a soft goal in the last minute. They then compound it by giving away a penalty in the last seconds of extra time. Even when the goalkeeper got a hand to the ball and it came back off the post they still couldn’t clear it and let the penalty taker side foot it into the corner of the goal on the rebound. After much discussion Tim and he had concluded that if it wasn’t for the players and the manager they might have a decent team, if it wasn’t for the owner of course.