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

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The Weeping Women (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 3) Page 9

by Patrick C Walsh


  Outside the hospital Andy asked, ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘I’m not sure but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something here that just doesn’t add up.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  Mac shrugged.

  ‘I wish I knew.’

  Andy looked at his watch.

  ‘It’s only just past nine. There’s not a lot else we can do until Mr. Pegram gains consciousness and we get the forensics report. Anyway I need to get back to work on this exercise we’ve got coming up.’

  ‘I bet you’ll be glad when that’s all over,’ Mac said with some sympathy.

  ‘You can say that again. Okay give me a ring if you get any ideas.’

  ‘I will and can you email me a copy of the forensics report as soon as it comes through?’

  ‘Sure thing.’

  Mac sat in the car for a while letting it all run through his head. A little tickle at the back of his brain was telling him to look again. This tickle was very like an itch and Mac decided he was going allow himself the luxury of scratching it.

  The constable guarding the Pegram’s house let him enter once more. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing there but he knew there must be something. He looked in every room of the house trying to get a picture of the family. Thinking of pictures he sat down on the sofa in the living room and picked up the tablet from the coffee table. He found the pictures file, it had four hundred and nineteen items in it. It didn’t take as long as he might have thought to scroll through them.

  He stopped at a particular photo. It was in black and white and showed three men in World War Two army uniforms. They were on board a ship of some sort. They all had cigarettes in their hands and were smiling at the camera. The text said ‘Grandad Pegram and some friends’.

  Mac could see it in his mind. The burglar inserting a memory stick into the tablet and simply downloading the entire file of photographs. It would only take a minute. He placed the tablet back on the table.

  He went into the kitchen and looked out of the window. He could still see blood on the grass. He looked over at the fence that the knife wielder must have come over. The composter and the plastic box next to it caught his attention again. He looked at them for a long time allowing the little tickle to grow and blossom into an idea. He smiled.

  So that was how it was then.

  He now had a theory but he needed some proof. He went back to the tablet and started scrolling through the photos again. He was only interested in any that were taken in the back garden. He found a photo of the two daughters who were on two pink bikes with stabilisers. It was date stamped as last Christmas Day. The composter was in the same position but there was no box there.

  He scrolled on and found another photo of the two daughters in the garden. This time they were with their grandmother. The box was now there right next to the composter. The time stamp was January 28th. So the box had been there for nearly two months. It definitely wasn’t the burglar then who had arranged an easy way of getting over the fence and Mac had a strong feeling that it might be all Mr. Pegram’s doing. He also had an idea why.

  He went to the front door and spoke to the constable.

  ‘I saw your lot doing some door to doors earlier. Have they finished yet?’

  ‘Yes sir, I think so sir,’ the young constable said a little uncertainly. ‘They started before seven and did most of the street I think. A lot of people weren’t too happy about it, us waking them up that is.’

  ‘Do you know if anyone was especially upset at the news of Robert Pegram’s stabbing?’

  ‘I’m not sure but I can check.’

  Mac waited while the constable phoned in.

  ‘According to the sergeant a Mrs. Tomelty just up the road started crying when she was told. He had to come back half an hour later to interview her, when she’d calmed down a bit.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘Nothing of any use apparently.’

  ‘Why was she so upset then, did she say?’

  ‘According to the sergeant she said she knew the family a bit.’

  Mac would bet that she knew one member of the family very well. Mac got the house number. He was going to pay Mrs. Tomelty a visit.

  Luckily she was still in.

  She was in her thirties, not bad looking, hair dyed blonde and obviously took quite a large cup size in her bras. She looked exactly as Mac had envisaged her.

  Her eyes were red and she clutched a tissue in one hand.

  Mac showed her his warrant card.

  ‘I’ve already spoken to the police,’ she said tersely, trying to shut the door.

  Mac’s foot stopped it closing.

  ‘And you’ll talk to them again,’ he said. ‘Shall we do this inside or do you want all the neighbours to hear what I’ve got to say?’

  She denied everything at first and he had to winkle it out of her. Eventually though he and Mrs. Tomelty had a full and frank discussion.

  While he walked back to the Pegram’s house he got the number of the forensics team. Luckily the team leader was still on shift.

  ‘The Pegram case, I’m just interested to know where you processed. Did you do inside the house at all?’

  ‘No, we were told that all the action took place in the garden so we processed that and both sides of the fence.’

  ‘So you didn’t do the kitchen for example?’

  ‘No and we didn’t the living room or bedrooms or the house next door either. We only have so much time you know,’ the team leader protested.

  Mac thought he sounded tired so he thanked him and ended the discussion.

  He stood looking at the house for a minute or two while he thought. He made a decision.

  He ordered the young constable to follow him inside.

  ‘We’re going to search the house from top to bottom and we’ll do it together so, if we do find anything, then there’ll be a witness. Is that okay?’

  ‘But I’m supposed to be guarding the front door…’

  Mac gave him a stern look.

  ‘Okay but it would help if I knew what we were looking for.’

  Mac told him.

  ‘Where do we start?’ the constable asked.

  ‘As we’re in the living room we’ll start here then the kitchen and then upstairs.’

  Forty minutes later they’d searched every room and found nothing. He went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The young constable followed him.

  ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘We search again. It has to be here somewhere,’ Mac said with certainty.

  He wished he was as sure as he sounded.

  After he’d washed the glass he turned to say something to the constable when a flash of pink caught his eye. He stood looking at it for a few seconds as a smile formed on his face.

  ‘Here help me,’ Mac asked.

  He opened the washing machine. It was full, mostly of clothes belonging to the two daughters. He soon found what he was looking for. He didn’t see it at first as a pair of girl’s leggings, pink of course, were tightly wrapped around it. Mac then showed it to the constable but didn’t make any attempt to retrieve it.

  He phoned Andy.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt but there’s something you’re going to have to see and bring someone from forensics with you.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Andy and Mac stood and watched as the forensics technician carefully removed the item from the washing machine without disturbing the leggings encasing it.

  ‘I’ll have to unwrap it in the lab,’ the technician explained. ‘If the leggings wrapped themselves around it early on in the wash they might contain some trace evidence.’ He looked at the control panel. ‘Forty degree wash so we might be in luck.’

  Andy took a photo of it on his phone before the technician took it away.

  ‘Come on,’ Andy said. ‘Let’s go to the hospital and see what Mrs. Pegram has to say about this.’

  At the hospital
they were told that Mr. Pegram was still unconscious. The operation had been a success and he was ‘making progress’ so the doctor told them. Mrs. Pegram was by his side holding his hand.

  ‘I’m sorry but can we have a word in private?’ Andy asked.

  Once in the relative’s room Andy said nothing. He just showed Angie Pegram the photo. It showed the leggings and the clear outline of a long bladed kitchen knife.

  She turned white and sat down heavily, almost as though her legs had given way.

  ‘What happened?’ Andy asked.

  He allowed her a minute or so to gain her composure.

  ‘It was that bloody bitch Yvonne down the road. She used to be a friend of mine but after her husband ditched her she was all over my Robbie. He’s such a fool, he’s goes weak at the knees if any woman lets him know that she fancies him, especially ones with big tits.’

  ‘I take it that he was visiting Yvonne Tomelty late at night?’ Andy asked.

  ‘Yes and I was so stupid that I didn’t cotton on for quite a while. Then one of my so-called friends started taking the piss and let the cat out of the bag. Just about everyone knew it seems, except me of course. Anyway it all made sense then. We’ve always liked a bit of a drink at night but lately I’ve been getting quite legless and falling asleep on the settee. That’s because he’d been making my Bacardi and cokes a lot stronger and once I’d nodded off he was over the fence and down the road to that blonde bitch. You can guess what him and that slag were up to.’

  ‘I take it that you went easy on the drink last night?’ Mac asked.

  She nodded slowly.

  ‘I pretended to be a bit drunk but I’m afraid my pot plant got most of my drinks last night. Poor thing’s probably dead by now.’

  ‘So what happened?’ Andy asked.

  ‘I waited and waited until after two when I heard him getting back over the fence. I’d gotten so angry sitting there thinking about it and every minute that went by I got even more wound up. By the time I heard him getting back over the fence I think I’d honestly gone a bit mad. I picked the knife out of the drawer, ran into the garden and stabbed him. I can’t explain it, I know people say that they saw red when they did something terrible but I really did. At the end when he was lying on the grass and I saw the blood dripping from the knife it was like I woke up from a bad dream only to find it was all real. I rang for an ambulance and Rob kept saying ‘tell them a man dressed in black did this, just tell them that’. While the ambulance men were putting Rob on a stretcher I popped the knife in the washing machine and then turned it on before I left the house.’

  She shook her head as though to she was trying clear it.

  ‘I still can’t believe it happened, it’s like I’m inside a nightmare and I can’t wake up.’

  They were interrupted by a doctor who told Mrs. Pegram her husband was conscious and that she could see him for a moment.

  Andy showed the doctor his warrant card.

  ‘Is it okay if we have a word too?’ Andy asked.

  ‘So long as you make it fairly quick. He’ll probably be asleep again in a few minutes.’

  Mr. Pegram had drips and tubes attached, his chest was strapped up and he looked in a sorry state.

  He held his wife’s hand tightly.

  ‘Rob, these men are from the police. I’ve told them everything.’

  He glanced at Andy and Mac and tried to smile.

  ‘I don’t know what she’s told you but she’s upset, so don’t take any notice.’

  Angie started crying.

  ‘It’s no good love, I’ve told them now. It was all my fault, I’m so sorry,’ she exclaimed in between the sobs.

  ‘No it wasn’t, it was mine. I thought you didn’t love me any more so I gambled with my family, with you and the girls. I was stupid Angie but I’m not gambling anymore.’ He turned his head to look at Andy and Mac. ‘There was a man dressed all in black and he stabbed me. Angie came down a few minutes later and found me. Then she phoned the ambulance. Isn’t that right Angie?’

  All heads turned to look at Angie.

  ‘Isn’t it, love?’ Rob asked again, his eyes entreating her to give the right answer.

  Angie dabbed at her facewith a tissue.

  ‘It’s no good love, they’ve found the knife.’

  Tears started running down Robert Pegram’s face.

  ‘It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have done it. I love you Angie.’

  ‘I love you too Robbie.’

  She turned to Andy.

  ‘I know I have to go but can I stay with him until he falls asleep?’ Angie asked.

  ‘Yes stay. I’ll send someone to pick you up in a while,’ Andy said.

  As he walked out Andy rang for two uniforms to pick up Angie at the hospital in half an hour.

  ‘What do you think will happen to her?’ Mac asked as they walked out.

  Andy shrugged.

  ‘She’s got kids and if her husband sticks by her I’d bet she might get off with a Community Order, if she gets the right judge that is.’

  ‘I hope she does somehow. After all they do really love each other.’

  ‘Shame that she had to stab him to find that out though,’ Andy said as he looked at his watch.

  It had now gone twelve.

  ‘I’ve had no breakfast!’ Andy exclaimed.

  ‘And mine was a long time ago. However I know a place that does a nice all-day brunch,’ Mac replied.

  Comfortably seated in the Magnets in front of a large plate of egg, sausage and chips Andy asked him how the Easter egg case was going. For some reason Mac didn’t want to say too much right at that moment, especially about the connection with Greece. Although he was fairly sure he was on the right track he still didn’t have anything concrete as yet.

  ‘I’m not sure if I’m honest. I’ve found a sort of link but I suppose it’s all a bit tenuous at the moment. I’ll fill you in once I’ve followed a few things up if that’s okay. How’s the exercise going?’

  Andy raised his eyes to the ceiling and checked his watch again.

  ‘I’ve got a meeting at one thirty and from then on it’s all about this bloody exercise. I’m afraid you won’t be able to reach me until after it’s over. Toni Woodgate’s in charge until I get back if you need anything. I really could have done without it with everything we’ve got on at the moment. The wife isn’t too happy about it either as it means that I’ll be away all over Easter.’

  ‘Shall we meet up in the middle of next week? I’ll bring you up to date then,’ Mac said.

  ‘Yes and hopefully over a pint. I’ll need a drink after it’s all over.’

  After Andy had gone Mac got himself another coffee and thought about his next steps.

  He checked his emails on his tablet and found that he’d missed one that had come in yesterday evening. It was the personnel files on Dr. Christodoulou and Dr. Soulis. He decided to go home, where he could be comfortable, and open it up on his laptop.

  He made a pot of coffee and put on some Vivaldi. Then he opened the first of the PDF documents and read.

  Dr. Kostas Christodoulou, born in Athens in 1959, so knocking on for sixty now. He’d been employed at the Medical School for the last nine years as the Departmental Research Tutor for Post-Graduate Medicine. His previous CV looked very impressive. His sick days were below average and his appraisals were well above. He had several previous jobs, the first was in Athens and the rest in different parts of the US. Mac noticed that one of them was at the famous Mayo Clinic and was impressed.

  Dr. Lena Soulis, born in Kalamata in 1986, so she was around thirty. She’d been employed by the School ever since she’d graduated as a doctor and was now working as part of the Consultancy Team, whatever that was. Appraisals were brilliant and she had an unblemished work record. No sick days.

  Nothing in any of the documents gave Mac anything to be excited about but he’d follow it up anyway. He rang and arranged to meet them at the Medical School. Dr. Christodoulou first,
as he said he’d be free in an hour, and then Dr. Soulis at four thirty.

  As he drove to the Medical School he tried to think of what to tell them. If he told them the truth they’d think he was crazy. He had to get another story together.

  He got lost again in the school and only just made his first appointment.

  Dr. Christodoulou was of medium height, with a square sort of face, his black hair greying at the sides. He wore his white coat with an air of sure authority though. If this man told you he was a doctor you would absolutely believe him.

  He shut the door to his office and sat down.

  ‘So what’s this all about?’ he asked.

  Mac licked his lips.

  ‘I’m afraid that I can’t go into details but we’re looking for someone who visited the Records Office in Hertford recently. We believe he may be a doctor and of Greek origin.’

  The doctor looked hugely sceptical at Mac’s words.

  ‘Mr. Maguire you’re using some very fuzzy words there. I know it seems to be open season on Greeks at the moment but you’ve not told me anything yet that might make me want to co-operate.’

  There was silence for a moment while Mac thought. He’d come up with a story but the sceptical way the man in front of him was looking at him made him think again.

  He made his decision, he’d take the easiest path. He told the doctor everything just as it had happened.

  This time it was the doctor’s turn to be silent.

  ‘Okay,’ he finally said. ‘I can see your logic, tenuous though it might be. How can I help?’

  ‘I just need to exclude you from the investigation. Can I?’

  ‘You can. I had nothing to do with these robberies.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Mac absolutely believed him. He got up and made for the door.

  It was halfway open when the doctor said, ‘But then again if I was involved isn’t that exactly what I’d say anyway?’

  Mac looked over his shoulder to see a big grin on the doctor’s face. His knew his leg was being severely pulled.

  He managed to grab a coffee while he waited for his next appointment. Dr. Soulis said she’d meet him in the coffee shop so he thankfully didn’t have to move again.

 

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