23 Cold Cases (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 5)

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23 Cold Cases (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 5) Page 21

by Patrick C Walsh


  This small woman, an expert in mediaeval documents by all accounts, had at very short notice been able to get her adopted nephew into a safe house and provide what sounded like professional guards around the clock. Guards with guns come to that. The house was situated at the very end of a mews, a street with one entrance so anyone coming in and out could be seen. From what he’d learnt it looked like the house also had a secret back entrance, a means of escape possibly? A safe house then. It sounded like a very professional set up indeed.

  She had no apparent means of income yet she could afford to buy top of the range sports cars and find enough money to fund Nathaniel for three years. She also travelled a lot yet she had no passport. How was that possible?

  What had she been doing when Lawrence was in the safe house in London? And how could be so certain that Youssef Rafiq would no longer be a problem?

  Mac had all these questions rattling around his head yet he knew they were never going to be answered and this annoyed him. The answers were somewhere in her head, locked away for good.

  He sat back and sighed as he realised that they might not even be there anymore that they might have all been swept away by the dementia that was slowly dissolving her brain. He could understand why Nathaniel hadn’t wanted to visit his aunt. She was alive, breathing and eating but there really was no-one there.

  He popped in and saw Emily on his way out. She was doing well on her computer programming course and had started writing little games. She showed him one and Mac was very impressed. She also bemoaned the fact that her beloved Brentford hadn’t made the play offs last season. However she brightened up somewhat when she pointed out to Mac that they had finished above Aston Villa.

  Mac stood on the pavement outside the retirement home and wondered what to do next. Remembering his favourite saying, ‘If in doubt go to the pub’ he rang Tim, who was all for an early session, and then Eileen his favourite taxi driver. By the time he got home she was waiting there for him.

  She dropped him outside the Magnets. Then he saw Nathaniel Bardolph’s face in the window of the newsagent’s opposite so he went over to have a look. It was one of those popular women’s magazines that specialised in film and TV stars, their diets, homes and so on. The headline read –

  ‘Nat gets engaged and breaks all our hearts.’

  He went in and bought a copy. Apparently Nathaniel had proposed to a girl called Julie Planter who was a writer and they were now engaged. It explained how they’d met on set after she’d replaced a scriptwriter who’d fallen ill.

  It appeared that Nathaniel Bardolph had conquered his fear after all. Mac smiled and wished him and his fiancée all the luck in the world.

  Tim had managed to occupy their favourite table, number thirteen next to the window, and Mac had the sudden feeling of slipping back into a warm and comfortable rut. He told Tim all about the case and his theories and how frustrated he was at not being able to know what had really happened.

  ‘Oh well,’ Tim said with a grave expression. ‘We should just be grateful for the things that we do know, the deep truths that form the very bedrock of our lives.’

  Tim’s unexpected seriousness intrigued Mac.

  ‘Such as?’ he asked.

  ‘Knowing when it’s your round,’ Tim said holding up his empty glass.

  Mac laughed out loud and went to the bar.

  Thank God for Tim, he thought.

  Twelve years earlier

  Cass felt that she’d been more than lucky to have been at home that morning and not away on a job. She’d been in the kitchen when she heard the front door open. She grabbed a knife and held it behind her back as she tip-toed into the living room.

  It was only Lawry though but something was really wrong. He just sat there shaking and looking at the back of his hands. She looked and could clearly see blood in between his fingers. He was in a terrible state and it took her a while to find out what had happened to him. As soon as she grasped the situation she started thinking about what to do.

  While Lawry was in the shower she made a few phone calls and called in a few favours. She’d leave him with Caspar and Mikel for a day or two in the London house while she worked on a solution. He’d be safe there.

  She realised how much his safety mattered to her. She’d loved his mother more than anyone in her life and had only split up with her when she knew that she’d go down with her too if she stayed any longer. Her happiest moment was when Lawry had turned up at her door looking for somewhere to stay. She’d never thought of having children, it wasn’t part of her game plan, but Lawry was like a gift. She would protect him, whatever it cost.

  She made sure that Lawry made a formal statement to the police and gave them her mobile number explaining they were going away for a few days. The policeman was very sympathetic. After she dropped Lawry off in London she returned home and started planning. She found out where the Rafiqs lived and started watching the house. Youssef went out around eight to the pub and met up with six or seven of his friends. Some of them commiserated with him about his sister but one or two looked at him very strangely.

  They know she thought.

  They all decided to go to a nightclub that evening and Cass knew this was her chance. She went home and put her make up on and a dress which showed off her cleavage to advantage. She was over forty now but she knew she’d pass for much younger. She’d have no problems there especially when he had the beer goggles on. She hid in a corner of the club and watched him intently.

  It was past one and Youssef was weaving towards the door when she intercepted him. She asked him if he wanted a ride and made it clear that there might be much more than that involved.

  He didn’t say no. She told him to meet her around the corner in a few minutes. She didn’t want them to be seen together as there were CCTV cameras covering the entrance to the club. She’d worked out on her way into the club that there was a blind spot in the camera coverage and she made sure she left taking the same path.

  She saw his eyes go wide when he saw her car.

  ‘Wow, is this really yours?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said as she unlocked the BMW.

  ‘Can I drive?’ he asked, ‘I’ve always wanted to try one of these.’

  She smiled indulgently at him.

  ‘Not now, you’ve had a drink, but if you’re nice to me tomorrow perhaps.’

  Another inducement for him to go with her. He didn’t hesitate and climbed in the passenger seat. She didn’t drive fast but she made sure that her hand rubbed his leg when she changed gear. He smiled at her and grabbed her crotch.

  A subtle lover then. She managed to smile back while he did this.

  She turned off her headlights when she drove into her street. She didn’t want the neighbours knowing more than they should. She pressed a finger to her lips before she got out telling him that he should keep quiet. He smiled and did the same back to her.

  She opened one half of the garage doors and ushered him inside. She shut and locked the door behind her and then turned on the light. Youssef could see that the garage was empty and that the floor was covered with a plastic sheet. He briefly wondered why. He then saw the door that led into the house.

  ‘I take it the bedroom’s this way?’ he said smiling as he pointed towards the door.

  ‘I’m afraid that this is as far as you go Mr. Rafiq,’ she said flatly.

  He watched her as she threw her bag into a corner. Then she took her shoes off and threw them into the same corner. Drunk as he was it took him a while to realise that she knew his name even though he’d never told her what it was.

  ‘Oh come on, don’t change your mind now. We could have such fun,’ he said.

  ‘Oh I’ll have fun Mr. Rafiq but I’ll guarantee that you won’t like it.’

  He couldn’t make out what was happening. She’d totally changed, her face looked different as did the way she walked.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, somewhat belatedly getting that a nigh
t of sex might not be why he was brought here.

  ‘You killed your sister and I’d like to know why,’ she said in a matter-of-fact way.

  He looked surprised at this.

  ‘No I didn’t,’ he said. ‘And anyway what’s it to you?’

  He had no idea what was happening. He looked around half expecting to see someone else.

  ‘There’s just you and me here Mr. Rafiq and you haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘Go to hell,’ he shouted and made towards the garage door.

  Cass blocked his way.

  ‘Oh the evening isn’t over yet although I forecast that it will be a very short one for you,’ she said.

  It sounded like a threat but this just confused him more, she was a woman and almost a dwarf at that without her heels.

  ‘Let me tell you something then. I have a nephew, he’s more like a son to me really, and he’s really upset.’

  ‘And what’s that to me?’ he shouted at her.

  ‘It was you that upset him. He loved your sister and she loved him. They were going to go to university and then live a life together. You ended the dream for him and, because of that, I’m now going to end you.’

  That was definitely a threat. He looked around again but they were still alone.

  ‘And how are you going to do that? Have you got some six foot gorilla hidden away somewhere?’

  ‘Why is it that you men always think that women can’t do anything without having to have a man around. Haven’t you heard Mr. Rafiq that sisters are doing it for themselves these days?’

  He made to go but she blocked him again.

  ‘So why did you kill her then? Did you know about my nephew?’

  ‘No I didn’t but I do now and he’ll be next. He can join that whore in hell.’

  It disconcerted him when she only smiled at his threats. She knew it would help if she could get him angry.

  ‘So if it wasn’t him what was it? Was it the arranged marriage or was it really because you fancied her yourself?’

  She’d only thrown that out to rile him but she could see from his face that she’d hit the jackpot.

  ‘Yes that was it, wasn’t it? You wanted to shag your own sister and when she wouldn’t you killed her and then you call it an ‘honour killing’. My God you men can be such hypocritical bastards.’

  ‘Bitch,’ he shouted as he took a swing at her.

  She evaded it easily. She needed to get him as angry as possible so she hit him in the face. He shot her a look of pure hatred as he pulled a sling knife from his pocket. He locked the blade and started slashing out at her.

  She was amazed at his stupidity. He actually had the knife with him. She smiled as she had already thought of a very good use for it.

  He wasn’t very good with a blade and she easily ducked out of the way. All he was slashing was fresh air and it made him even angrier. He was ready for her now.

  After one wild lunge she ducked under his arm and grabbed his wrist with her right hand as she did so. She swivelled around and then pulled his arm straight so the elbow joint was fully locked. She then brought the heel of her left hand down on the locked out joint with all the force she had which was considerable. With some satisfaction she heard the elbow joint shatter just before he let out a scream of pain. The knife fell to the floor and she kicked it towards the wall.

  While he was still screaming she went behind him and caught hold of his left wrist, pulled the arm straight and shattered that elbow joint too. He turned pale and stopped screaming, the pain was just too great.

  She kicked out at the back of his legs causing him to collapse into a kneeling position. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck before throwing her weight backwards. Their combined weight had now trapped his legs and his arms were useless.

  ‘Now listen Mr. Rafiq because this is important. This is called a choke hold and it’s called that because I’m going to use it to choke you to death. However before you go I just wanted to tell you one thing. You may not believe it but God is a woman and that this is something you’ll be able to confirm for yourself very soon. I’d also like to tell you that she has a special room in hell for men like you. Goodbye Mr. Rafiq.’

  She increased the pressure and held on for longer than she probably needed to. She then let go of her hold a little, just enough to check with her finger for a pulse in his neck. There wasn’t one. She released her hold and got out from underneath him. She checked his wrist for a pulse. He was dead. She straightened his legs and moved his arms by his side.

  She looked down and smiled at a job well done before going over to the corner and retrieving her handbag and shoes. She took her car keys out and put them in a plastic bag. She sealed the bag and placed it near the wall. She put the handbag and the shoes on top of Mr. Rafiq. She then stripped completely and put her clothes and underwear on top of the corpse.

  She folded the plastic sheet on the floor around the body and wrapped it tightly. She got a roll of duct tape from the rear of the garage and folded the ends of the plastic over until it resembled a spring roll. She secured the plastic sheeting with the duct tape. She then wrapped the plastic in the old carpet that lay beneath and sealed that too with the tape. She cut off the last piece and placed the roll of tape inside the flap before sealing the package with the final piece of tape.

  She dragged the carpet towards the wall and then placed tins of paint and odds and ends in front of it. It just looked like an old roll of carpet.

  Naked she opened the door to the house and put some flip flops on that were by the door. She made straight to the shower and scrubbed herself, making sure that every little trace of him was gone. She dried herself and then changed into a black track suit and black trainers. She still had work to do.

  She drove back to the Rafiq’s house. It was now nearly three o’clock in the morning. She climbed over the back fence. There were no lights on. She noiselessly walked towards the back door. It was just a standard lock and she had it open in seconds. Using a small but powerful torch she found the stairs and went up. All the doors were shut except for one. She put an ear to the shut doors and listened. She could hear the sound of people sleeping.

  She opened the other door slowly and peeked inside. It was empty. This was Youssef’s room. She started looking around when she heard a noise. She rolled herself under the bed and waited. A few seconds later the door opened and she heard a woman’s voice say something she couldn’t understand. The door closed again.

  Probably his loving mother wondering where he was, she thought. She wondered if this particular mother had loved her daughter too.

  She waited until she was sure that the woman would have gone back to sleep. From her vantage point she could see that there was a loose floor board just under the bed. She rolled herself out and had a look. Under the floor board there was a stash of porn magazines. Cass smiled as she pulled out the knife. She opened the plastic bag and dropped the knife into the hidey hole. She then replaced the floor board leaving it slightly askew so that it would be easier to notice if there was a search.

  She found a sports bag in the wardrobe and started filling it with clothes. While she was putting in some socks she came across his passport.

  Perfect, she thought as she threw it in the bag. He had a wash bag containing shaving gear and deodorant and that went in too. She zipped the bag up and attached a clip to the handles. The clip was attached to a long roll of thin rope. She opened the window and carefully lowered the bag to the ground then dropped the rope too. She shut the window and before she went she placed some print-offs from a Jihadi website in the back of his sock drawer.

  She tip-toed back down the stairs and then locked the kitchen door behind her. She retrieved the bag and the rope and went back over the garden fence.

  She smiled, yet another flawless job.

  There was just one more thing to do before she could get some well-earned sleep. Turning the lights off again she rolled the car nois
elessly into her driveway and waited for a while. She got out locked the car and then kicked it before running into the house.

  She could hear the alarm squawking as she ran up the stairs. She put on her bedroom light and opened the curtains. She then put a white dressing gown on over the black track suit and slowly made her way downstairs. She wanted to give it some time and make sure that the neighbours were well awake.

  She walked outside and turned off the alarm. She looked up at the Ballard’s bedroom next door to see Mrs. Ballard looking out at her. She smiled and waved at her before going back inside.

  Perfect.

  She slept well and woke when the alarm went off at nine. She knew that Mrs. Ballard liked to be in her garden early in the morning. She put on her ‘librarian’ outfit, a flowery dress with a cardigan that didn’t quite match and walked outside. There she was pulling weeds. She came over a soon as she saw her.

  ‘What was all that about last night, the alarm and everything?’ Mrs. Ballard asked with some concern.

  ‘Oh I’m not sure. I didn’t sleep all that well last night and I thought I heard noises outside. I opened the curtains and looked outside and there were two men, young men I think, both dressed in those black hoodie things. They were looking at my car. I turned on the bedroom light and they ran off but they must have touched the car as they went and that set off the alarm,’ she explained.

  ‘Oh my dear,’ Mrs. Ballard said in horror, ‘aren’t we even safe in Letchworth? You should tell the police.’

  ‘Well there’s no damage, perhaps they were just looking.’

  She left it at that.

  She made a few calls and went back to bed. She’d need the sleep as it would be another busy night.

  A soon as it was dark she drove the car into the garage and placed Mr. Rafiq in the boot along with his sports bag. She then placed two plastic covered items inside the car in the back passenger well. She drove to an industrial area in North London, to a scrapyard where they melted down waste metals. She’d been here before.

 

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