The Dead Squirrel (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 2)

by Patrick C Walsh

  Andy stopped seeing the expression on Mac’s face.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Unfortunately yes,’ Mac replied. ‘Apparently Catherine told one of the Society’s members, Molly Etherington, the code and where the key was hidden. God knows how many other people Molly might have told. What about the Settlement? Did you find out anything there?’

  ‘Well, her course was quite popular. Although her teaching style was basically just talking at people and she didn’t always handle interruptions at all well, people said they still liked the course because she really knew her stuff. One of the other tutors also said that when she was asked something she didn’t know she always found out and would come back with an answer if it was at all possible. So what do you think, should we concentrate on the Janeites for now?’ Andy asked

  ‘Yes, in my opinion they’re definitely our best bet,’ Mac replied. ‘Not forgetting the ex-Janeites and we’ll need to talk to Anne Holding’s little group as well. By the way is there any news about Mrs. Parker’s computer yet?’

  ‘Why? Do you think there might be something important on there?’

  ‘I’m sure that there’s something on there that Mrs. Parker didn’t want us to see. Whether it’s relevant to the case I’m not sure.’

  ‘I’ll check my emails.’

  While Andy was on his computer Toni organised some coffees.

  While they were gone Leigh turned to Mac.

  ‘I’ve decided that I’m absolutely okay about Dr. Lucey and Richard Gascoigne. I just needed to give it some thought.’

  ‘Thanks Leigh. I think that the poor doctor’s probably gone through quite enough as it is without being hauled up in front of a judge and jury.’

  Leigh didn’t say anything. She couldn’t make this Mac out. He was a strange one and unlike any policeman she’d ever met.

  ‘So tell me what did you think of today?’ Mac asked.

  ‘It’s been interesting. It’s like starting with just an outline sketch of a person and we’re gradually filling in the details, finding out a little bit at a time about what made them tick.’

  ‘Not a bad way of looking at it. So if it’s okay can you come and pick me up fairly early tomorrow? Amanda usually walks her dog around nine and I’d like to catch her before she goes out. I want to see where the squirrel died and then perhaps we could have a word with the vet she took it to before we start on the other interviews.’

  ‘Okay with me,’ Leigh said with a shrug of the shoulders.

  Toni had just come back with the coffees when Andy arrived looking somewhat perplexed.

  ‘Any news on the hard drive?’ Mac asked.

  ‘I should say so. They’ve sent me all the current and deleted files related to the membership of the Society but there’s more. The computer expert I spoke to said that they came across some highly encrypted files which had originally been deleted a year or so ago. Of course they had no problem resurrecting them and they’re trying to break the encryption now. Doubt it has much to do with our case but I suppose it’ll keep them happy for a while. Okay any suggestions about tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d like to take Anne Holding’s group if that’s okay,’ Mac said. ‘But, in case we forget, there’s been another death in this case. I’ll try to interview Amanda and the vet she brought the squirrel to as well.’

  ‘That would be great. If an animal can get at such a deadly poison then others might too. We’ll go and see this Tanya Stokes and go through the list of members with her. Hopefully she’ll be able to identify some possibilities.’

  ‘Oh, I case I forget, is there any chance you can dig up the file on Philippa Hatch?’ Mac asked.

  ‘The girl who committed suicide? Sure.’

  ‘She lived in Hitchin and she died about a year ago. It’s probably nothing but you never know.’

  Andy smiled.

  ‘In my experience it’s rarely ‘nothing’ if you’re interested in it. No problem, I’ll send a request to records before I go.’ Andy stood up. ‘Okay that’s it for today then. We’ll catch up same time tomorrow if that’s all right.’

  Outside the station Mac asked, ‘What are you doing now?’

  ‘Home I suppose, only it doesn’t feel much like that yet. Anyway I don’t know anyone here and I’ve still got some boxes to unpack…’

  ‘You could come with me if you like,’ Mac offered.

  He thought with her being new to Letchworth she might be grateful for a little company. He was quite surprised when her defences slammed up and she backed off a step.

  ‘No, thanks but no. After all those boxes won’t unpack themselves. See you tomorrow.’

  She scurried off.

  Mac was thoughtful as he made his way to the Magnets. As he walked by the pub Tim waved at him through the plate glass window. He’d managed to get their favourite table in the corner, number thirteen, underneath the photographs of George Bernard Shaw.

  Mac made himself comfortable while Tim got a round in. When Tim returned with the drinks Mac raised his glass to the photo of the great man before taking a gulp.

  ‘So what have you been up to today?’ Tim asked.

  Mac told him of the circumstances around the two poisonings.

  ‘And was it only yesterday that you were saying that a few quiet days might not be a bad thing after your little trip to Birmingham?’ Tim joshed. ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘It’s too early to tell but I can’t shake this feeling that the poisonings are somehow connected to the suicide, although where the squirrel fits in God knows. I might be wrong though, Miss Hatch apparently had no relatives or close friends so there’s no-one with sufficient motive to seek revenge. Still tomorrow’s another day and you never know what we might discover.’

  They both invested in a foot-long hot dog and while they ate Mac told his friend of his adventures in his home town. He’d even managed to see a Villa match and he described the game in detail, trying not to dwell too long on the eighty ninth minute own goal that lost them the match.

  Later, as he made himself a coffee before going to bed, he thought through the case again. He had no clear idea of where it was going and of the inevitable surprises he knew must be in store but he didn’t care. He smiled to himself. He was working on a real case again and that was more than enough.

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday

  ‘Just there, on the ground by the bird feeder,’ Amanda said pointing with her finger.

  The bird feeder was roughly in the same position as the one he had in his own back garden, being about fifteen feet straight in front of the kitchen window.

  ‘I take it you like watching the birds as you wash up,’ Mac said.

  ‘And while I’m cooking. I love the Robins and the Coal Tits and we even get some Corn Buntings believe it or not. They come in a little flock and they’re quite funny as they form a sort of queue to feed.’

  ‘What about squirrels?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Yes, there used to be two black ones and I sometimes put peanuts out for them. I liked them as much as the birds if I’m honest, there’s something quite cheeky about them.’

  ‘And it was one of those that you found dead?’

  ‘Well, if I’m honest I can’t be sure if it’s always the same squirrel but it looked the same. The vet said it was an adult male that died.’

  ‘You say the squirrel was still alive when you found it?’

  Amanda looked upset just thinking about it.

  ‘Yes, I saw the poor little thing trying to get up to the feeder but it looked like it was drunk or something. Then it fell and lay there twitching, I just didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘Well as it turned out you did exactly the right thing.’

  He got the name of the vet. The practice was on Norton Way just a short drive from Amanda’s house.

  It had only just gone nine as Mac and Leigh pulled into the car park. Even this early in the day the waiting room was full of glum faced people clutching a variety of boxes and dogs on l
eads. Mac wouldn’t have thought it possible but the dogs looked even more miserable than their owners. Luckily Mr. Notts, a young man dressed in a white lab coat with a red bow tie, was able to see them immediately.

  ‘I’ve only ever had one case of squirrel poisoning before and that was the squirrel’s own fault really. It had gotten into a workshop and helped itself from an open tin of welding flux. Otherwise it’s mostly injuries from air guns I’m afraid.’

  ‘Have you ever come across a case of thallium poisoning in any animal?’ Mac asked.

  The vet shook his head.

  ‘I asked one of my older colleagues and he said that years ago they used to get lots of them, people used to leave it out as a rat poison and other animals used to pick it up.’

  Mac gave this some thought.

  ‘Squirrels are rodents too aren’t they?’

  ‘Absolutely, oh I think I see what you’re getting at. I suppose if there was any rat poison left lying around then they might find it as attractive as the rats did.’

  ‘So if there were still some old tins or packets of rat poison knocking about then you think it’s possible that our squirrel might have helped himself to some?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Yes, it’s not unlikely. We’ve just had a very cold period and I suppose food has been scarce. As well as that squirrels sometimes nest in sheds or outhouses and that’s where most people would store a poison like that.’

  Mac thought for a moment.

  ‘How far might our squirrel have come? It’s possible he was a regular visitor.’

  ‘Well the males can sometimes go quite a distance, especially during the mating season. However I’d guess if you drew a circle of around a half a kilometre from where you found it you wouldn’t be too far out. If it was a regular visitor though, it’s highly likely to have been much closer than that.’

  As they walked back to the car Mac said, ‘Remind me to print off a map when we get the chance. As the vet said it’s possible that whoever killed Catherine Gascoigne was keeping the poison in a shed or outhouse and that’s how the squirrel met its end. We need to check every Janeite’s and ex-Janeite’s address and see if any of them live within half a kilometre of Amanda’s house.’

  ‘Where to now?’ Leigh asked.

  Mac looked at her closely. There was definitely something a little different about her manner today.

  ‘Let’s go back to the library. We need to see Anne Holding again.’

  Unlike the previous visit Anne showed no nervousness and gave Mac a big smile when she caught sight of him. She once again led them to kitchen and this time she made coffee for them all.

  ‘You know, I still can’t believe that Catherine’s dead. I thought I’d be quite happy about it but I find that I’m exactly the opposite. Someone killed her and it might be someone I know, that’s not a comforting thought.’

  Mac was interested in seeing her reaction so he told her what the doctor had told him about Catherine and the likelihood she was on the Autistic spectrum.

  Anne looked quite shocked and didn’t say anything for a while.

  ‘You know it makes absolute sense when I think about it now. I know someone who’s an Aspie, he has Asperger’s and that’s what he calls himself, and I should have guessed. It really explains a lot.’

  ‘I’ll need the name of everyone who attends your group and addresses too if possible.’

  ‘It’s quite an informal meeting so we don’t have membership records or anything. We contact each other by email, I only know where Diane and Molly live.’

  ‘Is that Molly Etherington?’ Mac asked, beginning to feel a little excited.

  ‘Yes that’s right, she used to be a member of the Society but she left.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘It was something to do with the decorations for one of the balls. They had to be temporarily stored somewhere and Catherine said that she had some room in her house. She said that she’d given Molly strict instructions where to put them but somehow Molly had still managed to put them in the wrong place. Well Catherine tore a strip off Molly in front of everyone and poor Molly really took it to heart. She never went back again. Mind you, knowing now that Catherine had Asperger’s I can understand why she might have been so angry. Any mess can be quite painful for them. You don’t think it could possibly be Molly who killed Catherine though, do you?’

  ‘We just need to check,’ Mac replied in a neutral voice.

  Anne wrote down the names of the other women who attended the meetings. She also included Diane’s and Molly’s addresses.

  ‘That story you told me about Catherine and Philippa Hatch at the ball, who else have you told that to?’

  ‘Well, I told the police not long after she killed herself. Other than that I think I’ve only mentioned it once. It sort of popped out when we were talking about Catherine at one of our meetings. We were at Diane’s and she’s always quite liberal with the wine.’

  Noticing some computers he asked, ‘Anne, you couldn’t do me a favour could you?’

  She printed off a map and even drew a circle to scale. Mac thanked her and left.

  Outside Mac handed Leigh the map.

  ‘See where Molly lives.’

  ‘It’s the next street to Amanda’s. She also had a means of entry and a good motive for killing Catherine,’ Leigh said excitedly.

  ‘Yes, it’s getting interesting, isn’t it?’

  Before they drove off Mac contacted the station and gave the names he’d gotten from Anne to one of the detectives. He said he’d ring back as soon as he had their addresses.

  Luckily Molly was at home. Leigh flashed her warrant card. She didn’t seem at all surprised.

  ‘I thought I might be getting a visit from the police,’ she said as she let them in.

  ‘Why’s that?’ Mac asked.

  ‘I got a phone call a short while ago from one of the members of the Society that I’m still friendly with. She told me that Catherine had been murdered and it’s common knowledge that she and I had fallen out.’

  She didn’t seem unduly upset about the fact. Molly Etherington was a slim, bird like woman in her fifties. They sat down in the only bit of free space in the living room. The rest of the room was taken up with piles of magazines and a long clothes rack that was jammed with an assortment of dresses and cardigans. Mac noticed that Molly couldn’t seem to keep her hands still. She kept rearranging the coasters on the coffee table as she spoke to Mac. He wondered if she might really have something to be nervous about.

  ‘Why did you and Catherine fall out?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll have already heard the story from Anne.’

  ‘I’d like to hear it from you if you don’t mind,’ Mac insisted.

  ‘Very well then. It all started because we needed somewhere to store some decorative swags for the ball.’

  Seeing Leigh’s look of incomprehension she explained.

  ‘They’re a long sort of garland I suppose, made up of green branches and the like, and decorated with pine cones and berries and woodland bits and bobs. It was the ball at the Crown from Emma so we thought it might just the type of thing they’d have used to decorate the room. Ours were all fake of course, but they looked real enough. We also had some bolts of fabric that we were going to drape about the place and it was all a bit bulky. I volunteered to pick it all up from the suppliers as I drive an old Volvo and, with the back seats down, you can fit quite a bit inside. Catherine told me where to find the key to her house and the code for the burglar alarm and I put it all where she’d told me to put it, in the living room. I thought it was a bit too nice to be used for storing decorations but I just did as I was told. We had a meeting the next night and Catherine totally lost it. What was it she said? Yes she said that I was at best an idiot and at worst malicious. Well I couldn’t have that, could I? So I told her where to stick her Society and walked out.’

  ‘You never went back?’

  ‘No and I suppose if I’m being totally honest there
was another reason for that. It turned out that Catherine had been right. One of the other members told me afterwards that she’d overheard the conversation and Catherine had definitely said the dining room at the back of the house and had actually repeated it several times. I must have gotten mixed up I suppose and I put them in the living room instead. I do get mixed up sometimes but there was still no reason to talk to me like that, was there?’

  Mac pictured Catherine’s living room in his head, spotless and everything precisely in its place, and he could almost understand why Catherine might have lost her temper.

  Mac decided to try the blunt approach and see what happened.

  ‘Did you kill Catherine Gascoigne?’

  Molly didn’t look fazed in the slightest.

  ‘No, although I must admit I’ve thought about it more than once. Running her over with the old Volvo would have been my way of doing it though and perhaps backing over her once or twice just to make sure.’

  ‘Mind if we look around?’

  For the first time Molly looked concerned.

  ‘Why, what are you looking for?’

  ‘Nothing in particular. Can we?’

  She gave this some thought.

  ‘I suppose,’ she eventually said with some reluctance.

  Her reluctance increased Mac’s interest.

  ‘Do you have a shed or an outhouse?’ Mac asked.

  Molly looked puzzled.

  ‘Yes but why would you want to look at that?’

  ‘Just humour me,’ Mac replied.

  The shed was brick built and quite substantial. Molly opened the door and the musty smell of rodents hit his nostrils.

  ‘Well something’s been living in here,’ Mac said.

  ‘I’ve noticed field mice nesting in here before,’ Molly volunteered. ‘I don’t really mind them so long as they’re gone by the time I need to get the mower out to cut the grass.’