‘Dan, help, help!’
Mac sounded desperate. Dan swarmed down the ladder and saw a white faced Mac trying to hold a naked girl on one shoulder. It was Natasha!
‘The chain,’ Mac managed to get out, his bulging eyes pointing beseechingly towards the ceiling beam.
Dan ran around and saw that the chain had been looped over a nail. He looked around and picked up the bucket. He positioned it below the nail and stood on it. He couldn’t release the chain, it was too taut.
‘Come a little nearer, Mac,’ Dan pleaded.
He did his best but it took the last of his strength.
As soon as he had enough slack Dan released the chain.
‘It’s free Mac, it’s free!’ he shouted.
Mac quickly checked which wall the chain was attached to then let Natasha slide down so that he held her under both arms. There was nothing left he could do. He fell in the direction of the wall so that the chain wouldn’t jerk Natasha’s neck. It seemed to take an age before he felt the impact. He fell so that Natasha was on top of him and his body would cushion her fall.
He tried to hit the floor keeping his body as flat as possible but even so a tsunami of pain immediately followed the impact. He somehow kept it at arm’s length. He rolled Natasha gently onto the floor, lay back and waited.
Dan bent over Natasha and felt for a pulse.
‘She’s alive Mac, she’s alive!’
He could do no more. The pain suddenly hit him like an eighty ton truck and he heard someone screaming in the distance. A pool of blackness appeared and he gratefully dived in. He let himself fall deep into its inky depths, falling further and further away from the storm of pain that raged on the surface. He fell so far into the blackness that he didn’t know who or what he was.
Here in the blackness there was no remembrance and therefore no pain.
Chapter Twenty Four
There was nothing but the blackness. No thoughts, no feelings, nothing.
Yet eventually there was something. The blackness overhead wasn’t as black as it had been and very gradually it turned to a dark grey. It felt as though he was bobbing upwards and then falling back again but never falling quite as far as he’d gone upwards. And so very gradually the dark grey became a lighter grey and then it got lighter still.
He got so close that he was sure he was going to break through into the light when he fell back again. The next time he knew he would do it. He went upwards and upwards and then…
There was light of a sort. It was reddish and indistinct. It took him a while to realise that he was looking at the inside of his own eyelids. He struggled to open them but they seemed to be gummed together. At last they flew open and there was light, real light. Light so bright that he had to immediately shut his eyes again. When he opened them again the light had been dimmed. Someone had…had what? He had no words for it.
Shapes moved around but they were blurred and he had no idea what he was looking at. They moved in complete silence and then it was as if someone had suddenly turned the sound up on a remote control.
‘Dad? Dad are you okay?’ a shape asked.
He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know if he was okay or not. He squinted and the shape came into focus. He knew that this shape had a name. What was it? Then it came to him.
‘Bridget?’ he said weakly.
‘Oh dad!’ his daughter exclaimed.
He could see tears on her cheeks. Another shape moved behind her.
‘Tim,’ he said.
‘Old friend, you’ve been away for quite a while.’
He could see the concern etched on both their faces.
‘How long?’ he asked.
‘Five days,’ Bridget replied. ‘You’ve been under sedation for five days.’
He was surprised. It felt as though it he’d been away a lot longer. A memory came back to him, a girl hanging from a chain. He couldn’t remember her name.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘She’s okay dad, Natasha’s okay. She’s hurt her neck but it’s nothing serious.’
‘She’s okay.’
He let the words sink in and then sleep overtook him again.
It was real sleep this time and when Mac woke up he found he didn’t have to search for the words any more.
He was in a hospital room and the curtains were drawn. There was some light outside so it must either be evening or early in the morning. As he could see Tim fast asleep in a chair he guessed it was morning. The door opened and Bridget walked in clutching two cups of coffee. Mac was suddenly aware that he was thirsty, thirstier than he could ever remember being.
‘Water,’ he croaked.
‘Oh dad you’re awake at last. Here,’ she said picking up a plastic container that had a lid and a spout.
Mac thought it was like something you’d use for a baby but he didn’t care. He gratefully sucked the water down and it was like rain on a parched desert.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked after he’d emptied half the container.
‘I’m not sure, a bit strange,’ he croaked.
‘How’s the pain?’
Mac hadn’t noticed the pain. He looked for it and it was there but it didn’t seem too bad. Then he tried to move into a more comfortable position and it suddenly flared up. He groaned out loud.
‘Oh dad, I’m so sorry,’ Bridget said.
The sound woke Tim up.
‘Are you okay Mac?’ he asked in a worried voice.
He couldn’t answer for a moment and had to wait for the pain to subside.
‘Sorry I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said. ‘Could I have some more water?’
After another drink his throat felt lubricated enough for him to be able to talk.
‘Is Natasha still okay?’ he asked.
‘Yes she’s fine, well at least physically,’ Bridget replied. ‘She’s in a room downstairs. They want to keep her in for a while to make sure she’s okay.’
‘Did he hurt her much?’
‘Yes, I think he did. I’d guess it’ll take a while for her to get over it.’
‘Did they get him, Moncrieff?’
‘They arrested him in the church,’ Tim replied. ‘He’s confessed to all the murders.’
‘And his sister?’
‘His sister?’ Tim gave Bridget a strange look before replying. ‘I’ll let Dan Carter tell you all about her. He asked us to ring him as soon as you woke up. Oh here, I’ve saved something for you.’
Tim rummaged around in a plastic bag and pulled out a tabloid newspaper. He held it so Mac could see the front page.
‘What do you think of this then?’ he said with a wide grin.
The paper had a picture of Natasha and one of a much younger Mac. The headline shouted ‘Hero Ex-Cop Saves Kidnap Girl’.
Mac shook his head. He never liked the ‘hero cop’ tag. On the TV the main character is usually a loner who solves the case without any help from anyone. That was never the way it was in his experience. He thought over what had happened and how every member of the team had contributed something towards saving Natasha.
‘I’m no hero,’ Mac stated.
‘You’re my hero,’ Bridget said as she held his hand.
This made Mac smile. He suddenly felt tired and sleep overtook him again.
When he awoke the light was brighter. A man in a white doctor’s coat was taking his pulse.
‘Ah, awake at last. I’m Dr. Patel. How are you feeling?’
Mac tried to sit up and the pain hit him again. His answer was a loud groan.
‘I’m afraid your pain levels will be very high for a while. Fortunately you’ve not done too much damage to your spine, which is a bit of a miracle considering what you’ve been up to, but there are a lot of soft tissue injuries.’
‘What does that mean?’ Mac asked.
‘Well with soft tissue damage there are some well-defined phases. You’ve more or less gone through the inflammatory phase which is the most painful. That’s why w
e took the decision to keep you sedated, that plus the fact that we needed to get you into an MRI scanner just to be sure. The next phase, the repair phase if you like, will take around six weeks or so. I’d like to keep you fairly immobile for this time so we’ll be keeping you in, not that you’d be able to do much anyway.’
Six weeks in hospital! Even the thought of it instantly depressed Mac. The longest he’d ever spent in hospital was three days while they were doing tests and that nearly sent him mad.
‘So after six weeks I’ll be okay?’ he asked hopefully, looking for a silver lining.
The doctor and Bridget exchanged looks. Mac knew from the looks that he wouldn’t be okay.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Well there’s a third phase, the remodelling phase, which will probably last about a year or so. Pain levels should return to normal after that time,’ the doctor said with a sympathetic look.
It took a few seconds for what he said to sink in. Back to normal after a year?
‘You mean I’ll be in even more pain that I was and for a whole year?’
‘I’m afraid that’s exactly the case.’
Mac suddenly felt even more depressed. He suddenly remembered when he was with Natasha and asking God for his help. He said that God could give him all the pain in the world if he would just let Natasha live. He hadn’t expected God to take it so literally. The thought of the Fentanyl patches he’d squirrelled away in his sock drawer popped into his head. It had been a struggle managing his pain as it was, he just didn’t know if he could cope with even more.
‘Don’t worry Mr. Maguire, there are things we can do to help you,’ the doctor said before he took his leave.
Mac didn’t ask what. He knew from experience that ‘the things’ usually involved more drugs. He’d be able manage the pain alright but he’d also lose the ability to think rationally. He’d always tried to avoid going down that route. The thought of losing the only thing he really valued about himself was truly scary.
‘There’s someone who’s waiting to see you,’ Bridget said. ‘Is it okay if they come in?’
Mac nodded. He expected it would be Dan.
It wasn’t Dan. It was Natasha.
She was in a hospital wheelchair and Jonny Aldis was doing the pushing. She looked pale and had a neck support on. She noticed Mac looking at the wheel chair.
‘It’s okay I can walk it’s just that they prefer me using the wheel chair when I move around the hospital. How are you Mr. Maguire?’
‘Seeing you has made me feel much better,’ he replied with a smile.
And it was only the truth.
‘More importantly how are you?’ he asked.
She hesitated before answering which was an answer in itself.
‘I’m… okay I suppose.’
‘I’m afraid it might take you some time to get over this but you will get over this.’
‘Will I?’ Natasha asked, obviously unconvinced.
Jonny moved to her side and took her hand in his. She looked up at him and tried to smile. It was clear that they had become very close.
‘It may seem hard to believe right now but you will. It may never go away but you will learn to live with it.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
It was a good question and one that made Mac think.
‘Yes it’s an easy thing to say, isn’t it? What you need to do is talk to someone who’s been through something as traumatic as you’ve been through. And I know just the person.’
‘You do?’ she asked with a hopeful look.
‘She was involved in a case of mine many years ago and she went through some terrible things. She’ll tell you all about it herself but believe me she has been there and bought the T shirt.’
‘And how is she, now?’ Natasha said.
She leant forward, waiting with obvious trepidation for what Mac was going to say.
‘She’s married with two wonderful children. She and her husband run their own business and they’re making a great success of their lives.’
‘She’s happy?’
‘Yes, she has her bad times too but yes, I think she’s happy.’
Natasha smiled a real smile and her body relaxed a little.
‘Bridget can you get me my phone?’
He looked up the number and gave it to Natasha.
‘Her name’s Pauline Dempsey and she’s a trained counsellor too. I know she’ll be glad to hear from you.’
‘Thank you Mr. Maguire, you’ve really helped. I hope you get better soon and thanks, thanks for everything.’
‘Oh and don’t forget to thank this young man here too,’ he said pointing at Jonny. ‘If it hadn’t been for him being so persistent we’d have never found you at all.’
She looked up at Jonny with a look of real love on her face.
‘Don’t worry Mr. Maguire I’ll be thanking him for quite some time to come I hope.’
Jonny returned the look with interest.
He watched them as they left. Natasha and Jonny looked so right together. They would have a life together now, one that seemed very improbable not too long ago. They would make a mark on the world by creating designs and drawings and perhaps even children too. All of a sudden the price of a year’s worth of extra pain didn’t seem so high.
Mac smiled, he’d just found how he was going to cope with the pain.
Chapter Twenty Five
Dan and Tommy showed up a couple of hours later.
‘Well you’re looking better than the last time I saw you,’ Dan said.
‘I don’t suppose that would be very hard though, would it?’ Mac replied. ‘I vaguely remember someone screaming. Was that me?’
‘Yes, you went unconscious pretty much straight away afterwards which, from the sounds you were making, was probably the best thing.’
‘What happened afterwards?’
‘Well, it was a bit of a challenge but the paramedics finally got you and Natasha out by strapping you to stretchers and pulling you out on ropes.’
‘We had to give them a hand,’ Tommy said.
‘And Moncrieff?’ Mac asked.
‘Luckily I sent Andy, Chris and Adil to pick him up at the church just before you found Natasha.’
‘No problems?’
‘No, none at all. He came peacefully but then again he wasn’t going to run away. He uses a crutch just like you do, spinal damage from when he was a kid the doctors say. He has trouble walking.’
‘So that’s why he had the Fentanyl then. I heard he confessed. Is that true?’ Mac asked.
‘Yes, he’s confessed to killing all the girls. He said that God told him to do it and then blamed his sister saying that he would never have hurt anyone if she hadn’t brought him the girls. In other words everyone was really to blame except himself.’
‘His sister? Just where does she fit in?’
‘Now we’re getting to the seriously weird bit. Here you might understand better if I show you this first.’
Dan produced a tablet and started up a video.
‘It’s part of an interview with Moncrieff and the forensic psychologist,’ Dan explained.
The camera was focussed on Moncreiff who was sitting at a table. He was a slim man with fine thinning fair hair. His face was bland and featureless and he wore glasses. The psychologist was a disembodied voice.
‘So you’re saying it was really Nicola’s fault?’ the psychologist asked.
Moncrieff nodded.
‘I would never have done anything if she hadn’t brought the girls home in the first place. I never asked her to and I honestly had nothing to do with it, she did that totally by herself. However, once they were there I just couldn’t help myself. She knew what would happen too.’
He spoke softly and with just a touch of a Scottish accent.
‘So why do you think she brought them home then?’
Moncrieff shrugged.
‘I don’t know, as I said I never asked her to.’
‘Why don’t we ask her then? Nicola what have you got to say?’
Moncreiff stood up and looked down at the seat he’d just been occupying with a hurt expression. Something had happened to him, it was subtle but very real. He held his body very erect, his chest a little outwards. His face actually changed shape, became harder and more defined.
‘He’s blaming me now and that’s not fair. He never said it in words but I could feel his need,’ he said in a woman’s voice. It was deep but definitely a woman’s voice. ‘After a couple of years he would get twitchy and I knew it would take a girl to calm him down. I rely totally on him, he’s the only one earning and he’s got a job that needs all his concentration. So I’d get him a girl every now and then, it was easy and there are lots of them around. You’d honestly think that no-one would miss the odd one here or there. Anyway he killed them not me. All I did was bring them in, what he did with them was his business. I never asked.’
‘And did you take away the bodies?’
Nicola took a few steps. She walked easily and with an erect posture.
‘Of course but only at first. After that girl was found we had to come up with something else.’
‘Two years is a long time. What did your brother do for sex in between the girls?’
Nicola looked down with some love at the vacant chair.
‘He always had me and I knew just what he liked. It kept him going but of course I knew it would never be enough and then I’d have to go and get another girl for him to play with. But that’s just the way it is I suppose.’
Dan stopped the video.
‘Good God was Moncrieff really both the brother and the sister then?’
‘That’s what the psychologist is saying. Barmy as they come. Gender confusion on a massive scale he called it. His mother always wanted a girl, so being a fruitcake herself, when she had a boy she just dressed him up as a girl and called him Nicola. Then when he started to be treated as a boy in the children’s home Nicola became his imaginary friend, one who unfortunately never went away.’
The Blackness (The Mac Maguire detective mysteries Book 4) Page 22