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

by Patrick C Walsh

  Eventually in yet another building yet another receptionist said, ‘Yes, please take a seat and I’ll give the person you need to speak to a call.’

  Mac gave a sigh of relief. Ten minutes later he was met by a smartly dressed middle aged woman who asked him to follow her. Luckily her office wasn’t too far away and no stairs were involved. Once they were seated Mac showed her his warrant card.

  ‘I’m Mrs. Cresswell. How can I help the police?’ she said with a bright smile.

  ‘I’d like you to check whether or not you have any Greek nationals on your staff.’

  ‘Please be aware that due to the Data Protection Act I can only give you some basic information. I’d need a formal request from the police before I could hand over any personal details.’

  ‘I can arrange that but in the meantime I’d be grateful if you to confirm whether or not you have any Greek nationals on your staff and, if you do, where they’re from.’

  ‘I think I can do that,’ she replied.

  She consulted her computer and a remarkably short time later said, ‘Yes we have two, a Dr. Christodoulou and a Dr. Soulis.’

  ‘And can you tell me where in Greece they come from?’

  She looked at the computer again.

  ‘Yes, Dr. Christodoulou is from Athens and Dr. Soulis is from Kalamata.’

  The last name sounded familiar.

  ‘Kalamata? Do you know where in Greece that is?’

  ‘Southern Greece, it’s where the olives come from.’

  Of course. Mac mentally kicked himself, he’d only been looking at a can of them the other week.

  ‘I’ll need their current addresses and any other information you can give me.’

  ‘I can do that but only once I have the official request,’ Mrs. Cresswell insisted.

  He’d just have to wait then.

  Before he left he had Mrs. Cresswell write down her email address. Once in the car he rang Andy and asked him to send the data request as soon as he could. Andy suggested that they meet the next morning for a catch up.

  Mac drove back to Letchworth letting the new facts he’d learned rattle around his head. He pulled up outside the address he’d been given. Luckily Mr. Posnett was in.

  Mr. Posnett, now sixty one, lived with his wife, his two children having left home. He worked at the District Council Offices in the Housing Department.

  ‘Have you noticed anything unusual in the past week or so?’ Mac asked.

  Mr. Posnett and his wife looked at each other and shrugged.

  ‘I don’t think so…’ Mr. Posnett replied a little unsurely.

  ‘Oh, there was the chocolate!’ his wife said, interrupting her husband.

  ‘He doesn’t want to know about the chocolate...’

  This time it was Mac who interrupted.

  ‘Tell me about the chocolate,’ Mac said.

  ‘Well Robert here still thinks I ate it, I’m sure, but we had one of those big bars of chocolate in the fridge and when I came down the next morning it was gone!’ she said in wonder.

  ‘Was there any signs of forced entry, broken glass, anything like that?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Mr. Posnett replied. ‘I checked everything and all the windows and doors were locked.’

  He gave his wife a look which indicated that he still thought that she was responsible for the chocolate being missing.

  Mac had a look around. The back door was held shut by an old latch lock. There were bolts fitted to the top and bottom of the wooden door.

  ‘Do you usually bolt the door at night?’ Mac asked.

  From the looks they gave each other it was clear they didn’t.

  Mac looked in the recesses of his wallet band found an old plastic card. It was a membership card for the police gym club and it must have been lurking in there for years.

  Mac went outside and pulled the door shut. He inserted the card into the space between the strike plate and the latch. It took him less than ten seconds to open the door.

  They both looked at him with open mouths.

  ‘I think you should get yourselves a new lock. When was the chocolate stolen?’ Mac asked.

  Mr. Posnett gave him the date. It was the same night that the Wells’ house had been broken into. There was a good chance that this just might have been the very first break-in.

  ‘Were we really broken into?’ Mr. Posnett asked in some wonder.

  ‘Looks like it,’ Mac replied.

  Mrs. Posnett gave her husband a very ‘I told you so’ look.

  ‘But why? We’re not rich or anything.’

  ‘I know it might sound crazy but the only link I’ve found so far is that most of the others had a father or grandfather serving in Greece during the Second World War. I believe that your father served there too.’

  ‘Yes, yes he did. He was in Greece for quite a while not that he ever told me much about it. He was a good cook though and he sometimes used to cook Greek food when the weather was warm. I must admit that I really got a taste for it.’

  ‘He never said anything at all about his time in the army, especially when he was in Greece? Please think hard even something trivial might turn out to be important.’

  Mr. Posnett thought hard as instructed.

  ‘Sorry, he never said a word but I did find something after he died. He kept it in his sock drawer would you believe.’

  Mr. Posnett went over to the mantelpiece and came back with a framed photograph. It showed three men grinning widely. They were peeling potatoes.

  ‘That’s Dad in the middle but I don’t know who the other two are.’

  Mac knew. One was Alfie Pratt and the other was Edward Chappell. Alfie looked just like the photo taken on his marriage day and Edward hadn’t change all that much as he got older. He asked if he could look at the back of the photo. He carefully took it out of the frame and turned the photo over.

  ‘Two new recruits working for their supper’ was written in faded ink.

  He turned it over and looked again at the men’s faces. From the smiles Mac guessed that this photo was taken before the event that would change all their lives.

  He took a photo of the photo, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Posnett and left.

  It had been a long day but he found that he couldn’t wait to get back to the journal. He made a pot of coffee and started on the stack of printed paper. He was feeling quite excited as he desperately wanted to find out exactly what had happened in Greece all that time ago.

  There was quite a bit about the heat and the mood of the rest of the unit and even more about being bored and a lot of description about some of the chores that Edward had to do, including endless potato peeling. All in all they seemed to spend half their time unsuccessfully chasing the Partisans around the mountains and the other half hanging around the barracks.

  ‘The men are all bored stiff. The Captain no longer allows them into town as there was trouble the last time they went in. I didn’t go but I was told that the Sergeant and the Corporal took on six of the local police and won. The Captain paid the bar owner for the damages out of his own funds.

  This posting is like being in limbo. All the men just seem to be waiting to go home. They don’t want to be here and they definitely don’t want to catch any Partisans so it’s all a bit pointless. I just wish something would happen.’

  About ten pages later it seemed that Edward had gotten his wish.

  ‘Just in case something happens I just want to let you know that I’ve ripped the preceding pages out myself and burnt them just in case. I also now hide this journal as I don’t want it to get into the wrong hands, especially after the events of last night.

  Since then our barracks have been crawling with military police and we’ve all been questioned several times. Alfie, Blanco and myself have followed the Captain’s advice. In questioning we simply said that we noticed nothing unusual and that we all slept well last night as usual. We also said that we weren’t close to the rest of the unit and that they’ve never told us anything of
their feelings about being here.

  Luckily they seemed to believe us and so the New Guard at least appears to be off the hook. The Captain and the Sergeant, however, have been questioned non-stop ever since the balloon went up. First it was the Military Police and then a General arrived in a big fancy car. I knew it must be really serious if the top brass were getting involved. I heard the General shouting at the Captain, he called him a traitor and accused him of ‘going native’. I heard that the Captain stayed silent and never said a single word throughout the whole investigation as did the sergeant and the corporal too when they asked him.

  After the hullabaloo was over every one of the Old Guard were told they were going home. Not dishonourably discharged, as they couldn’t actually prove anything, but the nearest thing to it. They were told that they’d never get any of the medals they’ve earned. None of them seemed to mind this very much though, in fact they threw a party. It was clear that they just wanted to get back home as soon as possible.

  Unfortunately for them, and especially the Captain, there was a real sting in the tail. The day before they were due to leave the Greek Colonel, a slimy toad if ever there was one, invited the unit to the town square. We were joined there by the town dignitaries and quite a crowd of the locals too. The Colonel had his men drag the priest out of the church and then they kicked him around the square right in front of us.

  The Captain translated for us. The Colonel said that the priest was a collaborator and that he would be punished for it. This wasn’t exactly news. The priest was a local man and even I knew that he favoured the Partisans, everyone did. The Captain then told the Colonel that accusing someone of being a collaborator was rich coming from him, someone who’d happily licked the Nazi’s boots for years.

  The Colonel looked like he was about to explode. I noticed that he kept looking right at the Captain as the beating took place. I felt that the whole show was really just for him.

  The Colonel ordered his men into the church to look for evidence. They ransacked the place. We could hear the noise of things breaking from the square. Shortly after some smoke could be seen coming from one of the side windows. The police all ran out of the church.

  In ransacking the place some idiot had knocked over some lit candles.

  The Captain shouted something in Greek. I was told that he was screaming at the crowd to get water to stop the fire.

  The Colonel had his men point their guns at the crowd. He walked up to the Captain and spoke to him in English.

  ‘No water,’ he said. ‘Let it burn.’

  He smiled straight at the Captain as behind him orange flames started to come out of the front doors.

  So we just had to stand there and watch the church burn down. I’d had a look inside once. It was cool and dark and had the smell of holiness. The thing I remember most though was the icon. They called it ‘Our Lady of Agiou Athiris’ and it had been in the church for centuries. I was told that every Easter they had a procession around the town and the icon was the centrepiece. I can only say that it was more beautiful than anything else I’d ever seen. Now it would burn along with everything else in the church.

  The Captain strode off. I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. I felt like crying myself. The colonel smiled at his back and, at that moment, I would so have loved to have given him a bunch of fives right in the teeth. I saw the Captain drive off in the jeep a few minutes later. The crowd shouted and cried and some tried to break through the line of soldiers but, in the end, all we could do was stand and watch the white-washed church walls turn black with smoke. We all just stood and watched as the roof eventually fell in leaving just the blackened walls standing.

  All of the Old Guard were quiet that night. The truck came for them in the morning and that was that. Alfie, Blanco and me had the barracks to ourselves for over two weeks before replacements arrived. The new Captain is different. Like me and Alfie he’s never fought in a proper war. He’s all gung-ho about fighting the Partisans though, communist scum he calls them.

  I can only say that I can’t wait to get back home. In my heart I find that, like the old Captain, I have no taste at all for what we’re being asked to do.’

  Mac scanned the following pages but there was nothing relevant to the case to be found. He felt frustrated as though he’d gotten to the end of a murder mystery and then discovered that someone had torn out the last page.

  He knew that something had happened in Agiou Athiris, something important enough to warrant a big investigation and to get most of a unit sent home. But what was it? He couldn’t help thinking of My Lai and similar atrocities that were covered up during wartime. He hoped to God that something like that wasn’t involved.

  Mac now wanted to find the mysterious Mr. Theodrakis and Dr. John Snow even more desperately. He wanted that last page.

  Chapter Ten

  Wednesday – Four days before Easter

  Mac had a restless night. The pain was bad and, turn and toss as he might, he couldn’t find any sort of position that would give him the slightest ease. It was just before five o’clock when he gave up trying and got out of bed.

  He gingerly stood up and then groaned out loud. The pain in his lower back was quite a bit worse than normal. He took his morning pills and decided he needed to be doing something to take his mind off it.

  He read through the journal again while he sipped at a coffee. He was hoping that he’d missed a vital detail somewhere but unfortunately nothing new jumped out at him. He wondered about the soldiers in the unit and what it must have been like for them. To have fought for two years alongside men who had become close friends only to be then told that they were now the enemy and the enemy were now friends. It all sounded like something from Alice Through the Looking Glass.

  He was meeting Andy at nine and he wondered what he could do in the meantime. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing.

  It was Andy. Mac looked at the clock. It wasn’t even seven yet.

  ‘I’m glad you’re up. I know it’s early but I’m on my way to Robert Pegram’s house. He was one of the people who were broken into, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes he was. What’s happened?’

  ‘He was stabbed late last night in his back garden by someone dressed in black, so he said. I only got the message a few minutes ago and I thought you might be interested.’

  Mac was. He told Andy he’d meet him at the house.

  They arrived at the same time. A uniformed policeman guarding the house let them in. Mac noticed that some uniforms were already doing some door to doors further down the street.

  The house was empty, forensics had obviously finished their work. Andy led Mac through the front door, into the kitchen and then into the back garden. He noticed that Mac was limping but said nothing.

  ‘Before they put him under Mr. Pegram stated that he got up in the night for a drink of water and saw some movement in the back garden. He went out to investigate. He saw what he first thought was a shadow but it turned out to be a figure dressed from head to toe in black. When he confronted him the intruder pulled a knife and stabbed him three times. The scuffle woke up his wife. She called the hospital at two fifteen and the ambulance arrived three minutes later.’

  ‘Three minutes?’ Mac said in surprise.

  ‘Yes the ambulance station is only just over the other side of the main road,’ Andy replied.

  Mac remembered. He must have passed the station a hundred times or more but he’d never actually seen an ambulance coming out of it.

  ‘Sounds like our burglar doesn’t it?’ Andy asked.

  Mac gave this some thought.

  ‘If I’m honest I’d be a bit disappointed if it was. One night he saves an old woman’s life and then the next night he’s stabbing someone. That doesn’t make much sense to me. There was a description of the man who broke into Doris Westwood’s house in the local paper last night, wasn’t there? They called him the ‘Dark Angel’ or something along those lines.’ />
  ‘What are you getting at?’ Andy asked.

  ‘I’m not sure yet. How is he?’

  ‘They were prepping him for an operation last I heard. That's why I thought we might come here first and have a quick look at the crime scene.’

  Mac pointed to the fence.

  ‘Easy enough to get over with the composter and that box being where they are. Did his wife see anything?’

  ‘Apparently not but I’d like to confirm that for myself. Come on let’s go to the hospital and see what Mrs. Pegram has to say,’ Andy said.

  At the hospital a doctor told them that Mr. Pegram had lost a lot of blood and that the operation was still in progress. He said that he would live though and that he was a very lucky man. The knife blade had apparently just missed vital organs twice, the third injury being more superficial. He told them that it would be a while before they could speak to him.

  Angie Pegram was in the relative’s room being comforted by an older woman, her mother Mac presumed. She looked dazed.

  ‘What happened?’ Andy asked her.

  She gripped her mother’s hand tightly. She didn’t look at either of them while she talked.

  ‘I’m not sure. I heard noises and I went downstairs. The back door was open and I could see Robbie lying in the garden. I ran out to him. He was covered in blood. I rang for an ambulance and luckily they were there in no time.’

  She looked up at them both.

  ‘Did he say anything?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Yes, a man in black did it. That’s what he said.’

  ‘What were his exact words?’ Mac asked.

  She thought for a while.

  ‘He said, Angie, a man in black stabbed me. Tell the police. That’s what he said. He said it twice.’

  ‘Did you see anything yourself?’ Andy asked.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Okay I hope your husband will be better soon. We’ll be back later.’

  She didn’t seem to be too excited about that prospect.