The Body in the Boot: The first 'Mac' Maguire mystery

by Patrick C Walsh

  ‘Look, there’s her name,’ Mac said.

  Tommy turned and saw ‘Henrietta Lewinton’ scrawled in capital letters. She was in section D, bed four. They looked around and saw that section D was just past the end of the nursing station. They just started to go towards it when they were stopped in their tracks.

  ‘And just where do you think you’re going?’ a stocky middle aged nurse said as she blocked their way, suspicion writ large on her face.

  Mac felt like a schoolboy caught in some felonious act.

  ‘Section D?’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ she stated hands on hips.

  She reminded him a little of the actress who used to play the matron in the Carry On films.

  ‘No visiting unless authorised, this is an emergency unit.’

  Mac was grateful when Tommy produced his warrant card.

  ‘We’re here to see what’s happening to one of your patients, Henrietta Lewinton.’

  The matron examined the card carefully and then pursing her lips she said, ‘You can wait in the relative’s room. I’ll tell the doctor in charge when she’s free.’

  She led them to a small room containing a coffee table, with numerous rings discolouring its surface, and four hospital armchairs. Uncomfortable as they looked Mac was glad to be sitting down again.

  ‘God she’s a bit scary, isn’t she?’ Tommy said.

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t like to be in her bad books.’

  The word ‘relative’ had stuck in his head. He thought for a moment and then cursed himself for being an idiot.

  ‘Bloody hell, I’m nearly forgetting all about her mother.’

  Mac took out his mobile and dialled Janet Lewinton’s number.

  ‘Mrs. Lewinton, it’s Mac Maguire.’

  ‘Have you found something?’

  ‘I think you could say that. It’s Hetty, she’s alive.’

  There was silence at the other end.

  ‘Mrs. Lewinton are you still there?’

  Another silence then finally, ‘Mr. Maguire, I think this is in very bad taste…’

  ‘No really, she’s alive, Hetty’s alive. I know it sounds incredible but she’s in some sort of strange hibernation. I’m in the hospital now waiting to see the doctor who’s looking after her.’

  There was a long pause before she asked, ‘Where is she?’

  Mac could sense hope in her voice. He gave her the details and the phone immediately went dead.

  ‘I take it she didn’t believe you at first.’

  ‘Yes, understandable though. She’s been told her daughter’s dead, she’s seen her dead and then some old codger phones up and says that she’s alive. What would you think? I just hope she doesn’t drive too fast getting here.’

  ‘What do you think the doctor will be able to tell us?’

  Mac shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘God knows, nothing probably. Her condition was certainly news to that professor and he seemed to know what he was doing.’

  The door opened and an attractive blonde haired woman came in the room and sat down. Mac thought that she must be a junior doctor until he noticed her name tag, ‘Dr. Ludmilla Tereshkova, Consultant EAU’. Inside he sighed, everyone seemed so much younger than him these days.

  ‘I’m Doctor Tereshkova, Miss Lewinton’s consultant. How can I help?’ she asked.

  Mac had been expecting an East European accent but she spoke perfect English.

  Tommy introduced them both and explained how Henrietta Lewinton had been found and what had happened in the morgue.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. She’s on a ventilator and we’re trying to warm her up as she was very cold, colder than anyone I’ve ever seen who wasn’t dead. There are also some unexplained peaks on the initial tox screens so we’ve put her on dialysis. If it is some sort of drug that’s responsible we’re hoping that the dialysis might help reduce the levels of it in her blood. Until we get more information all we can do is treat the symptoms and hope. If I’m honest no-one’s seen anything remotely like this before, we’re not even sure where to start. ’

  ‘If it was a drug and we could find out what it was, would that be of any help?’ Mac asked.

  ‘If we knew exactly what the substance was then some sort of antidote might be possible. At the very least we’d have an idea of what we’re up against. At the moment I can’t give you any sort of prognosis. We’ve no idea how long she might stay in this state of hibernation, it could be days, weeks or years.’

  ‘Thanks doctor. Okay if we hang around for a while? Her mother’s on her way, she should be here in a few minutes.’

  ‘Yes, please make yourselves at home. I’ll tell the sister that Mrs. Lewinton is expected.’

  After the doctor had gone Tommy said, ‘Not much there.’

  ‘It’ll probably take them some time to figure this one out. By the way Tommy, for the record, I’m just plain ‘Mr. Maguire’ now.’

  ‘Of course, sorry Mr. Maguire,’ Tommy said, looking a little crestfallen.

  Mac laughed.

  ‘I only meant when you introduce me to other people. You just call me Mac.’

  ‘Yes, of course… Mac,’ Tommy replied with a grin.

  Mac stood up and gazed out of the window at a small unkempt courtyard. A bright, wintry sun had come out from behind the clouds. He and Nora had loved winter days like this. He remembered the time when, not long after they’d gotten married, they would walk the three miles or so along the canal into Birmingham city centre on a Sunday morning. Then they’d visit the museum or go for a drink and a bite to eat. The realisation again of how much he missed her hit him forcibly.

  ‘Are you alright Mac?’ Tommy asked. ‘Is it the pain?’

  ‘Yes, it’s pain of a sort,’ he replied softly.

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘I wish there were...’

  At this point the door burst open and a crying Janet Lewinton flew into the room. She wrapped her arms around Mac and gave him a big hug. When she stepped back, Mac could see that although tears were still falling she had a huge smile on her face as well.

  ‘I’ve seen her, she’s alive just as you said. Only just perhaps, but even if she goes now, I’ll be with her. Thank you Mr. Maguire, thank you.’

  ‘Er, Mrs. Lewinton?’ Tommy asked hesitantly. He showed her his warrant card. ‘Can I ask a few questions?’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, sitting down. ‘Just a few minutes though, if that’s alright, I want to get back to her as soon as I can.’

  ‘Do you have any idea how your daughter might have ended up in the boot of a car?’

  She was still smiling as she shook her head.

  ‘None at all. I haven’t seen my daughter for quite some time, I’m afraid I’ve no idea what she’s been getting up to.’

  ‘But you know she’s been working as a prostitute?’

  ‘Yes, that much I know, but I haven’t seen her since she started her last year at university.’

  ‘Do you know if she’s been taking part in any medical trials?’ Mac asked, remembering what the professor had said.

  Mrs. Lewinton shook her head again.

  ‘Sorry, no idea but I wouldn’t put anything past her.’

  Tommy gave her his card.

  ‘Please call me if you remember anything. I take it you’ll be staying here for a while?’

  ‘I’m going to be by her side for every second of the day that I can,’ she said with determination. ‘When she wakes up she’s going to need her mother.’

  ‘Please let us know if there’s any change. An offence has obviously been committed but until we get some evidence we can’t be sure exactly what that offence might be.’

  ‘I understand. I’ll be in touch if anything changes,’ she said as she jumped up and made for the door.

  She turned just before she went out and said excitedly, ’She’s alive Mr. Maguire, she’s alive’, as though she still couldn’t quite believe it herself.

&nb
sp; Mac followed Tommy out of the room. The ‘matron’ gave them a stern look. Mac went over and spoke to her. He motioned Tommy to follow him.

  ‘She’s not as bad as she looks. She said we could have a minute, I just want to see what she looks like.’

  Hetty Lewinton lay motionless. Her long blonde hair had a wide streak of brown down the centre as her hair hadn’t been coloured for some time. She looked beautiful, almost transparent, fragile and ethereal. Mac had a real problem picturing this girl selling herself on street corners.

  ‘Okay let’s go. Now where’s that taxi driver?’ Mac asked as he seated himself comfortably in the wheelchair.

  As Tommy drove them back to the police station he asked, ‘Any idea what we should do next?’

  ‘There’s only the car isn’t there? Have forensics checked it out yet? Do we know who owns it?’

  ‘I’ll find out as soon as we get back.’

  At the police station they learned that the car had been stolen sometime on Sunday night from outside a house in St. Neots. The owner hadn’t noticed that the car had gone until Monday morning when he reported it stolen.

  ‘St. Neots, that’s in Cambridgeshire isn’t it?’ Mac asked.

  ‘Well, technically in Huntingdonshire, but yes. We found who the owner was from the VIN number. The car had fake plates fitted.’

  ‘Were the fake plates for a car of the same make and colour?’

  ‘Yes and it’s been confirmed that the car with the real number plates never left Yorkshire. The owner was selling it and had put an ad in one of the auto trader magazines which is presumably where our driver got the car registration.’

  ‘So our man is careful, he spots the car he wants then makes up a set of fake plates before he steals it. I was wondering if this might have been some act of the moment. That perhaps our man had given her something, thought he’d killed her, and he was just trying to get rid of the body. The planning beforehand makes that scenario unlikely though. Anything from forensics yet?’

  ‘There’s an initial report on the car. They found loads of prints but haven’t matched any as yet. They also found dog hairs, crisps, sweets and empty soft drinks bottles amongst other things.’

  ‘I take it that the people who own the car have kids and a dog?’

  Tommy nodded.

  ‘What about the blanket?’

  ‘Also from the car. Lots and lots of dog hairs, apparently they used it to cover the seat when the dog was in the car.’

  ‘So nothing there then unless we get lucky with the prints. I take it there was no CCTV?’ Mac asked hopefully.

  ‘No, the collision took place in a suburban area. Only one of the shops on the road the driver ran down had CCTV but unfortunately only inside the shop.’

  ‘What about the clothes Henrietta Lewinton was wearing? Anything there?’

  Tommy shook his head.

  ‘They found nothing unusual, the dress was from a chain store and they’re probably doing the DNA tests now. Also the initial look at the body, sorry she’s not a body is she? Anyway the initial look noted that she seemed abnormally clean and had probably been carefully washed. Forensics are going to take DNA samples and prints from the owners and from Miss Lewinton and see if they can narrow it down a bit.’

  Tommy seeing Mac’s glum expression said, ‘We’ve got nothing really, have we?’

  Mac shook his head.

  ‘I’ll bet a penny to a pound forensics turn up nothing more. Our man’s careful, he steals a car the night before, fits fake plates and I’ll bet he also wore gloves all the time he was in the car. You’re absolutely right, at this moment we’ve got nothing.’

  Seeing Tommy’s dejected expression he added with a smile, ‘Come on chin up, we’ve only just started, something will turn up.’

  Tommy smiled as Mac said this but Mac found himself feeling a lot less sure than he sounded.

  Chapter Four

  Mac spent a little time more looking over everything Tommy could give him on the case but he made no progress. He said a little prayer that the full forensic report on the car would give them a lead but he really wasn’t all that hopeful. It was now past five o’clock so, deciding that he’d better pace himself, Mac told Tommy he was calling it a day and would return early tomorrow.

  He called in at the hospital on his way home and they said he could go in and see Henrietta. He stopped and looked through the glass panel in the door before entering the ward. He saw Janet Lewinton sitting by her daughter’s bed. She was stroking Hetty’s hand and talking to her. It seemed such an intimate scene that Mac didn’t feel it would be right to interrupt them so he went to the nurse’s station and asked if there had been any change. There hadn’t. Mac asked if this was good news or bad news but they couldn’t say. They still hadn’t been able to identify what it was that was causing her condition.

  Before he got into his car he called his friend Tim and was grateful that he was able to meet him for a pint and something to eat. All the way back to Letchworth Mac kept turning over the day’s events in his mind. He was hoping for some new idea or take on the situation but nothing came to mind. He decided to talk it through with Tim and turned the radio on for the rest of the journey.

  Tim was already in the Magnets when Mac arrived. He’d managed to get their usual table in the corner next to the window overlooking the street. Of course Tim had something less of a journey, around a hundred yards from his antique furniture shop just down the hill. It struck Mac as he waved to Tim through the window that he was a little like an older version of Tommy. He was tall and thin, his jet black hair now greying in places but, unlike Mac, he still had a full shock of hair on his head. Mac’s barber had once made a joke and said that his hair was waving, waving goodbye that is. For some reason Mac hadn’t found it that funny.

  Tim jumped up and headed to the bar while Mac seated himself. He returned smiling and carrying two pints of lager. A picture of a grey bearded George Bernard Shaw hung in the corner and, fully aware of the irony of having a teetotaller’s picture in a pub, Mac raised his glass to the great man before taking a gulp.

  ‘So how did the first day go? Any femme fatales, did you have to smack anyone in the mouth with a forty-five?’ he asked, trying to sound like Humphrey Bogart and doing it quite well.

  Tim was a great fan of American film noir, especially gangster films. Mac’s new office was next door to Tim’s shop and was owned by Tim. Mac had insisted on paying rent but his friend had just pointed to the mental health charity shop across the road and said he could give it to them as they’d both probably be requiring their services before long.

  He’d laughed heartily at the time but afterwards he wondered if Tim hadn’t come quite close to the truth. Since his Nora had gone he’d been living in a black hole of depression and, if it hadn’t been for his daughter and his best friend, he didn’t know where he might have ended up. He silently thanked God for having them both.

  ‘I should be so lucky but I do have a client’.

  Tim was surprised and insisted on Mac telling the whole story not once but twice.

  ‘So what do you think?’

  Tim looked stumped.

  ‘I don’t know what to make of it at all. Obviously the driver was up to something, that’s why he ran when he saw the boot lid open, but what? I hope your professor isn’t right though, someone out there using people as lab rats. That’s really creepy that is. How could they get away with it?’

  ‘Quite easily. These girls are looked down on by everyone, to their pimps they’re property, just money machines, and I’m afraid to a lot of the police they’re basically seen as a lower form of life, not deserving the protection everyone else gets. The rest of us just pretend they’re not there, unless you’re one of the many men who keep the oldest profession going that is. They’re easy targets.’

  ‘So how do you think they might have done it and why?’

  Mac gave it a little thought.

  ‘The how is probably the easy part. All yo
u need to do is pull up in your car, stolen of course, and say you want a blow job. The girl gets in the car and you go somewhere dark, somewhere not overseen. When you’re alone and she’s in the act you inject her with something to knock her out then cover her in a blanket and pop her in the boot. If you want to get rid of the evidence after you’ve finished with her, knock her out again, pop her in the boot of another stolen car and take her back to the same area, again somewhere dark and secluded. Then position her sitting up in a corner and then inject her with a lethal dose of say, heroin. Leave the syringe close by, making sure her prints are all over it, and leave her to die. When its light someone finds her but as far as the police and forensics are concerned it’s obvious, just another prossie who’s overdosed. If there is any investigation at all it will probably just be a cursory one.’

  ‘Sounds all too plausible and more than a little depressing,’ Tim said.

  ‘It is, unfortunately I’ve seen too many women end up that way myself, it’s just a fact of life for a copper.’

  ‘But what about the why? Why would someone want to go to all that trouble?’

  ‘That’s the question we need to answer but we’ve got exactly nothing to go on. We’ve got no description of the driver, our only witness is in some weird sort of hibernation and there’s nothing from forensics so far.’

  ‘So what have you got?’ Tim asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you have this weird hibernation, as the professor said it must be caused by something, perhaps that’s a place to start. Pity you don’t know any doctors,’ Tim said with a sardonic smile.

  ‘Just the one,’ Mac said.

  Then he thought again.

  ‘No, two actually.’

  He’d been seeing a doctor for the last two years, ever since the pain had started getting worse. Mac had been surprised at being referred to a neurologist for back pain but Bridget had explained that the brain and spine were part of the same system, the central nervous system. She said that Dr. Wilkins, who worked at the same hospital that she did, was a very highly thought of neurologist.