The Blackness (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 4)

by Patrick C Walsh

  ‘How long were you on rank before you picked up this man?’

  ‘I’m not sure if I’m honest, five, ten minutes perhaps.’

  Mac paused for a moment. That might mean that he arrived only ten minutes or so after Natasha left the pub.

  ‘And you’re sure that never saw anyone when you pulled into the rank? There was no-one was hanging about nearby and no cars pulled off as you came in?’

  Tony Hamilton shook his head.

  ‘No, it was totally empty.’

  It looked like Tony Hamilton only missed Natasha by a few minutes at most. Either that or he was lying.

  ‘How long have you been on the taxis?’

  ‘Just over eighteen months now.’

  ‘And what did you do before that?’

  ‘I was an English teacher. I retired two years ago but I got fed up with it quite quickly. I only do the taxis part time, three or four hours a day during the week, and some Saturdays. They call me up when they’re really busy. It keeps me going and the extra money doesn’t hurt.’

  He looked from Mac to Tommy.

  ‘Can you tell me what this is about?’

  Mac showed him Natasha’s photo.

  ‘This girl has gone missing. We think she caught a taxi at the rank in Bancroft after having an argument with her friend. We’re trying to find out where she went next.’

  His eyes widened as he looked at the photo. He showed it to his wife. Her hand went to her mouth.

  ‘That’s Natasha Barker!’ she exclaimed, sitting up.

  ‘How do you know her?’ Mac asked.

  ‘We used to teach her,’ the woman replied.

  ‘And your name is?’

  ‘Carol Hamilton, Tony and I both worked at the same school. Natasha was in both our classes, he taught her English and I taught her Art and Design. She’s missing you say?’

  ‘Yes, she left her friend at around nine twenty last night and she hasn’t been seen since. Is there anything you can tell me that might help?’

  The Hamiltons looked at each other.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Carol said. ‘When you said ‘friend’ was it Julie Waddington?’

  ‘Yes that’s right. How did you guess?’

  ‘It wasn’t hard,’ she replied, ‘those two were always inseparable. Oh God her poor mother, what must she be feeling?’

  ‘What can you tell me about Natasha?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Not much from my side,’ Tony Hamilton replied. ‘She clearly wasn’t all that interested in English. She did just enough to scrape the necessary GCSE so she could go to college but that’s as far as her interest went. Carol knew her better though, didn’t you love?’

  Carol nodded.

  ‘She loved design, especially fashion design. She used to make her own clothes and everything. I thought she was really gifted, definitely the best student I’ve ever taught. I thought she’d really go far and now this.’

  ‘Is that was she was doing at college, design?’

  ‘Yes I remember looking at the brochure with her. She opted for Fashion and Textiles. I know one of the tutors there and she said she was head and shoulders above everyone else on the course. She used to joke about how we should get Natasha’s autograph now as it would be worth money before very long.’

  Mac asked Tony again if he’d seen any other drivers at the rank but again he confirmed that he’d been the only one.

  Outside Tommy said, ‘Strange that they should know Natasha. Quite a bit of a coincidence isn’t it?’

  ‘Well coincidences do happen but yes I think we should keep the Hamiltons in mind none the less.’

  They knocked on the door at the address on the Bedford Road that Mr. Hamilton had supplied. It took three or four minutes for the door to open. The man who opened the door was half asleep and was clearly suffering from a giant hangover. He clung on to the door for support. The door was green and matched his complexion.

  Mac showed him his warrant card.

  ‘Did you get a taxi home last night?’ Mac asked.

  The man shook his head.

  ‘No idea,’ he replied tersely.

  He was falling back to sleep while still standing up.

  ‘Do you remember what happened last night at all?’

  The man opened his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘What day is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Sunday.’

  The man thought on this for quite a while.

  ‘So yesterday was Saturday?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Mac confirmed.

  The man looked really puzzled.

  ‘Don’t remember Saturday. Did we really have one?’

  Mac decided to give up. He asked the man for his name. It took him quite a while to remember.

  ‘Go on get back to bed,’ Mac said.

  The man took him at his word and shut the door.

  ‘We can always come back later,’ Tommy said.

  ‘I doubt he’ll remember much even when he sobers up.’

  ‘So it looks like we’ve drawn a blank.’

  ‘Possibly but we’ve still got one more to try. Let’s go back to St. Michael’s Road and see if anyone’s in.’

  They were lucky this time. The door was answered by a man in his late forties. He was unshaven, had long lank hair and jowls.

  Mac showed him his warrant card.

  ‘We called earlier but no-one was in.’

  ‘I was in bed, I’m a deep sleeper. What’s this about?’ the man asked brusquely.

  Mac thought that the man looked more than a little nervous. In fact he was beginning to sweat a little. Mac was getting interested.

  ‘And your name is?’

  ‘It’s Stuart…Ogilvy.’

  Mac noticed a slight hesitation before he said his surname. The accent was northern, from Yorkshire Mac thought.

  ‘Mr. Ogilvy, we think a taxi driver picked this girl up at the Bancroft rank last night. We need to know where she went next.’

  Tommy showed him Natasha’s photo. The taxi driver gave it the briefest of glances.

  ‘No, never seen her before,’ he said with absolute certainty.

  He’d recognised her though, Mac was sure of that.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Mac said, giving him another chance.

  ‘Yes I’m sure, there’s nothing wrong with my memory,’ he replied testily.

  ‘How many other drivers do you have?’

  ‘Just me and one other. I do nights and he does days. Is that it now? I need to get back to bed.’

  ‘So what did you make of him?’ Tommy asked as they walked back to the car.

  ‘He’s lying. He recognised Natasha and he’s hiding something. Come on we need to get back to the station as soon as possible.’

  He went straight to where Chris and Martina were working.

  ‘Found anything yet?’ Mac asked.

  They shook their heads in unison. Mac told them out his meeting with Mr. Ogilvy.

  ‘Can you find out if there’s anyone on the Sex Offender’s Register who’s absconded or who has an outstanding warrant? He’ll be from Yorkshire, in his forties and his first name is probably Stuart. If you can get some photos we should be able to identify him easily enough.’

  ‘We’ll have a look on the database. I’ll let you know if we come up with anything,’ Chris said.

  Tommy brought him a coffee.

  ‘Thanks,’ Mac said as he gratefully accepted the steaming paper cup.

  ‘So you’re sure that Ogilvy isn’t his real name?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Yes fairly sure. He said his first name quickly enough but there was that slight hesitation before he said ‘Ogilvy’. He had to think about it.’

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘We wait,’ Mac replied. ‘There’s something wrong with our Mr. Ogilvy, I’m sure of it, and I want to know what.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Mac we’ve found something,’ Martina shouted over at him.

  A sharp pain hit him as
he stood up but he ignored it. He was hobbling by the time he made Martina’s desk some ten feet away.

  ‘What have you got?’ Mac asked excitedly.

  ‘These three more or less fit the bill.’

  She lay down three print offs. They had a summary of their offences and a photograph. Mac pointed at the middle one.

  ‘That’s him!’ he said with certainty.

  He handed the sheet to Tommy.

  ‘Definitely him alright.’ Tommy read from the charge sheet. ‘Stuart Braithewaite, he’s been on the register for fifteen years. He served eight years for indecent assault on two eight year old girls and there’s a warrant out for him on a charge of making indecent images involving a nine year old girl in Driffield, Yorkshire.’

  ‘I knew there was something!’ Mac exclaimed.

  ‘Do you think he’s got anything to do with Natasha’s disappearance?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Well she’s probably a bit old for him but who knows. We need to go have a look around his house and, as he has an outstanding warrant for his arrest, we won’t even need to hang about for any paperwork.’

  He turned to Chris and Martina.

  ‘Chris, fancy a field trip? I hope so as you’ll be the officer in charge.’

  Chris and Martina didn’t seem too heartbroken at being dragged away from their computers.

  Less than half an hour later Mac was once again standing outside Stuart’s door except this time he was accompanied by Chris and Martina and four uniforms belonging to the Support Unit. One of the Support Unit rang the bell and then banged loudly on the door.

  ‘Police, Mr. Braithewaite. Please open the door,’ Chris shouted several times.

  When no-one answered Chris gave the nod and a member of the Unit battered it open with an Enforcer.

  ‘Mr. Braithewaite, it’s the police. Are you here?’ Chris shouted.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Come on let’s search the place. Martina and I will take two of the entry team and look upstairs. Mac and Tommy can you look downstairs?’ Chris asked. ‘Oh and be careful Mac and stay well behind the Support Unit, I don’t want to get into any trouble with Dan.’

  Mac nodded. Obviously Dan had given instructions to the team about him. He hated being wrapped up in cotton wool but he knew Chris was right.

  The hallway they were standing in was grubby and hadn’t been decorated for quite a while. One of the entry team opened the door into a living room that was far worse. Stacks of flattened down cardboard boxes took up most of the room. In the space that was left a broken down sofa sat in front of a coffee table that had seen better days, in fact one of its legs was missing and four bricks served in its place. A small TV stood in the corner. It was old and dusty.

  The kitchen was no better. The cupboards were a beige colour and the work surfaces granite and had probably been quite expensive when they were first fitted. Now they were grimy and the stainless steel sink was brown and discoloured and full of cups and plates, some of which were actually blue with mould.

  ‘The upstairs stinks too!’ Martina said with a grimace when she joined them.

  ‘No luck then?’ Mac asked.

  ‘He’s not upstairs but it might be worth checking out there,’ Chris replied, pointing towards the overgrown garden. ‘It’s hard to see from here but from upstairs you can see that there’s a brick building right down the bottom of the garden, must be a garage or something. Come on, let’s have a look.’

  There was a visible path through the waist high grass. The Support Team went first followed by Chris, Tommy and then Martina. Mac went last and took it slowly, making sure he looked where he was walking. The building was bigger than Mac had expected and had probably been some sort of workshop in a former life rather than somewhere to park a car. It had a set of small windows all of which had been blacked out. They stood for a moment and listened.

  It was still and silent for a minute or so but then they all distinctly heard a girl scream. No order was necessary. The Support Unit had the door open in seconds and they all flooded into the building.

  A man sat in an armchair. He looked up at them in horror, his face turning a deathly white. It was Stuart Braithewaite. His trousers were around his ankles and they could all see his penis which was now rapidly shrinking. The scream had come from the biggest flat screen TV Mac had ever seen. Two naked men were doing unspeakable things to a young girl, a very young girl.

  ‘Get that off now,’ Chris said to one of the Support Team. He turned towards Braithewaite. ‘I think we’d all feel more comfortable if you could get those trousers back into their normal position.’

  Once he’d secured his trousers, which took some time as he nervously fumbled with the buttons and the zip, Chris informed him that he was under arrest.

  Two of the Support Team took him away while the detectives had a look around the building. They were careful not to touch anything. There were racks and racks full of DVDs and even video cassettes. A work bench in the corner had a laptop and a stack of padded envelopes with names and addresses on.

  ‘There’s no need to wonder what they contain,’ Tommy said.

  ‘As it’s your catch do you and Tommy want to interview Braithewaite?’

  ‘Yes, that would be great. Thanks Chris,’ Mac said.

  ‘No problem Martina and I will go and visit Child Protection and let them know what we’ve found,’ Chris replied. He turned and looked at the stacks of DVDs and addressed envelopes. 'I guess we might just make their day.’

  Chris asked two of the uniformed officers to stay and stand guard.

  They’d left the taxi driver to stew in an interview room. He visibly jumped when Mac and Tommy entered the room. Mac sat and looked at Stuart Braithewaite for some time. He was scared and getting more scared by the minute.

  ‘They’re not mine, those DVDs they….they were there when I moved in. I was just looking that’s all,’ he said, desperation written large on his face.

  He looked up at Mac and Tommy and only got stony stares in return.

  ‘Honestly,’ he added lamely.

  ‘And I suppose the flat screen TV was handily left there as well,’ Mac replied. ‘Anyway I’m not interested in that just now. Someone else will be coming along later to ask you some questions about your taste in videos.’

  Mac showed him the photograph of Natasha again.

  ‘Did you pick this girl up last night at the rank on Bancroft?’

  He wearily nodded his head.

  ‘Yes, around nine twenty. I didn’t do anything with her though, I mean she’s not…’

  He stopped mid-sentence.

  ‘She’s not your type, I know. Now if she’d been seven of eight years younger I’d bet that you’d have definitely been interested. Where did you drop her?’

  ‘Outside the Millstream.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘Where exactly did you drop her, in the car park?’

  ‘No, on the main road. There wasn’t that much traffic.’

  ‘Did you see her go into the pub?’

  ‘No, I needed to get on to my next job so as soon as she got out I drove off.’

  ‘How did she seem?’

  The taxi driver shrugged.

  ‘She looked a bit upset when she got in but she seemed okay when I dropped her off.’

  ‘Did you see any other drivers at the rank when you picked up Natasha?’

  Brathewaite shrugged.

  ‘No idea, I wasn’t really paying attention.’

  Mac looked at Stuart Braithewaite for some time. He started to squirm.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us this when we first asked you?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I was afraid that you’d think I was responsible for her going missing and start poking about.’

  Mac stood up.

  ‘If you’d told us the truth straight away we might have left it at that but no, you had to lie. Well I guess you’ll have plenty
of time to think that one over.’

  Mac ended the interview.

  In the hallway Tommy asked ‘Do you think he’s told us the truth?’

  ‘Unfortunately yes, still it’s a result, isn’t it? Another monster off the streets and, if those addresses on the envelopes belong to other paedophiles, then you never know, Child Protection might get a really nice haul.’

  Mac’s stomach clock had just gone off. He looked at his watch. It was already four o’clock.

  ‘I desperately need some food,’ Mac said. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Now you mention it, I’m starving.’

  ‘Come on I always think better on a full stomach.’

  At the Magnets Mac opted for the large Sunday lunch. It seemed a long time since breakfast. Tommy had the double burger.

  ‘So what now?’ Tommy asked while they waited for their food.

  Mac put his coffee down and shrugged.

  ‘We just keep chipping away at the case. That’s all we can do, it’s all we can ever do. We’ll find that breakthrough sooner or later, I just hope it’s sooner though.’

  ‘Do you think she’s still alive?’

  ‘Natasha?’ Mac shook his head. ‘Having seen too many cases like this I’ve learnt not to have too much hope. You always think that there might be a chance that the victim is being held prisoner or something but invariably it’s always a body that we find.’

  The food arrived and they both ate in silence.

  Mac had just polished off his last Yorkshire pudding when his phone rang.

  Tommy listened but all he heard Mac said was ‘Thanks Jo, we’ll be there.’

  ‘They’re getting the incident room set up in a shop that’s up for sale on Bancroft. Dan wants us there in half an hour for a catch up.’

  Mac instructed Tommy to go down the Stotfold Road as there should be less traffic.

  ‘You’ll have to show me, I’m still finding my way around,’ Tommy said.

  ‘Any luck with finding a flat yet?’

  ‘No, still looking unfortunately. I’m already fed up with having to come in from Luton every day.’

  As they turned left at the Gardener’s Arms Tommy heard Mac groan.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked with some concern.

  ‘God, I hate this road now,’ Mac exclaimed.

  Tommy couldn’t see anything untoward.