The Body in the Boot: The first 'Mac' Maguire mystery (19 page)

Monday 12
th
January

He awoke and for a while he had no idea what day it was. It was dark outside. He looked over at the alarm clock and the luminous dial told him it was six thirty but he didn’t know whether it was six thirty in the evening or the morning. Then he remembered the pain and said a little prayer that it had gone away.

He lay there for a while but he knew he had to move eventually as he desperately needed to pee. He slowly sat up, so far so good, and then stood up and checked his pain levels. A remnant was still there but it was only a faint echo of the agonising pain that had stopped him in his tracks.

He stumbled to the toilet, leaning on the wall as he went as his left leg wasn’t quite doing as ordered, and was grateful to release the pressure on his bladder. He wondered if he should go back to bed but he felt so wide awake that he thought he’d at least have a drink before trying. He poured himself a large orange juice and swallowed it in one gulp. He had to pour some more to drink with his pill. He turned the radio on in the kitchen and was amazed to find that it was Monday morning. The little blue pills had done far more than he’d expected, he must have been asleep for nearly eighteen hours. He figured with all the running around he’d been doing recently he probably needed it.

He took off the oldest patch and made himself a pot of coffee. After he’d had a cup he then showered and shaved. While he was shaving he thought about the mysterious client he was due to meet in just over three hours and felt glad he had something to do with his day.

He poured himself another cup of coffee and turned on the TV. The third item was the news that Bedfordshire Police had caught a serial killer responsible for at least the death of seven people. Mac saw Dan’s boss standing at the microphone thanking the team who had done such wonderful work. One reporter asked him if he thought Oleksandr Shevcheko had committed suicide because he knew the police were hot on his trail. He replied that it was highly likely and, although he had escaped the full punishment for his crimes, good solid police work had ensured he wouldn’t kill again. He could see Dan standing behind his boss rolling his eyes heavenwards. He obviously didn’t agree.

He knew that unfortunately he’d be chewing on this for weeks to come. He’d never been good with unsolved cases and somewhere in his head he was desperately hoping that he might be able to come up with something that would open it up again. He took his time drinking his second cup and found it was a quarter to eight when he next looked at the clock. Mac had an idea.

He remembered seeing it advertised in the Magnets ‘Breakfast from 8 a.m.’ so he thought why not?  He was standing outside when one of the staff opened the pub for business. It was a barmaid he knew, she looked a bit bleary eyed.

‘Bit tired this morning are we Kate?’ Mac asked, as he waited at the bar to order his meal.

‘Yes had to fill in last night, they were two staff short. Didn’t get to bed until after two,’ she explained. ‘You’re looking quite wide awake though. Don’t see you here so early normally.’

‘Got to bed after twelve myself, so I had a few hours more,’ he said, not mentioning the fact that it was after twelve noon.

He ordered the big breakfast, suddenly hungry as he remembered he hadn’t eaten at all the day before. He ordered another coffee to go and was in his office before nine o’clock.

He stood at the window and sipped his drink as he looked out at the comings and goings in the large car park at the rear of his building. The day was overcast and grey. Staff from the council offices were parking up their cars and trudging wearily off into another Monday morning.

Tim said his client wouldn’t arrive before ten but he liked being early anyway. He wondered what his client might be like and then thought about his recent brief taste of police work. It had shown him what he’d been missing these six months and he began doubting whether being a private detective could ever make up for not working as a policeman. His thoughts were interrupted by a flash of yellow appearing around the corner as a Porsche sports car, brakes squealing, pulled up abruptly outside his window. A woman got out and, without bothering to lock the car, made her way to his back door. All he could see was her long, blonde hair swirling in the breeze. His client was early.

She came in and glanced around the room without making eye contact. She turned her back, stood in the exact spot Mac had been standing in a few seconds before and gazed out of the window. He sat down behind his desk and gave her the time she obviously needed.

He studied her closely. Blonde hair, an expensive cut he’d guess. Designer clothes too, really good quality and made to measure, her slim figure showing them off to advantage. It didn’t require any detective skills to figure out that, between the car and the clothes, she must have some serious money.

‘You used to be a policeman,’ she said without turning.

Her voice was cut-glass English upper class.

‘Yes I used to be a policeman.’

The woman turned around. Mac guessed she was in her late twenties and quite pretty if her face hadn’t been contorted by some inner pain. He also noticed that her nails were bitten to the quick.

‘You solved some famous murders, I looked you up on the internet last night. I mean, I trust Tim, but I was curious. I read you had to retire because of ill health,’ she said glancing at Mac’s crutch balanced in the corner of the room.

‘That’s true too,’ he conceded.

Mac really didn’t want to talk about himself so he changed the subject.

‘How do you know Tim?’ he asked, gesturing for the woman to sit down.

She sat down and said, ‘Tim? I’ve known him since I was twelve. My father used to employ him to renovate the antique furniture he bought. Tim’s a wizard at restoring old furniture. When I was home from school he used to let me watch him work and we’d talk about things’.

Mac could believe that, Tim was a talker all right. Right then the penny dropped. He knew who she was.

‘Anyway we became friends, he still helps me with all the furniture Daddy left. Daddy died just over four years ago’.

‘Do you miss him?’

‘How can you miss what was never there? I used to come home from school and I’d be alone in that old house while he’d be off wherever, making yet more money. There was only Tim and one of the servants I could talk to. I’ve always hated being alone.’

She looked sad for a moment and then realised she hadn’t introduced herself.

‘I’m so sorry Mr. Maguire, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Laura de Vesey, my father was Hubert de Vesey.’

He knew who her father was, everyone did. He’d made his money buying up companies cheap and ruthlessly asset stripping them. He’d ended up not quite as rich as the Queen but not far off. If anyone needed an anti-capitalist pantomime villain it was Hubert de Vesey’s name that usually cropped up.

Tim had hated her father and not only for his ruthless business tactics. Tim had always wanted children but he and his wife hadn’t been that lucky. Laura’s mother had died young and the way her father ignored her, when Tim could see how desperate she was for love, had really made him angry.

He remembered Tim saying, ‘Some people just don’t know what’s valuable in life’.

A fleeting sadness went through him as he realised how true this was.

‘So Laura, how can I help?’ he asked gently.

She stood up and returned to the window.

With her still back turned she eventually said, ‘It’s my boyfriend, I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me. I need you to find out who he’s seeing so I can end it.’

He knew now why Tim hadn’t told him anything about his client and why she might need his help. Mac Maguire, ex-head of the London Murder Squad, reduced to chasing around after wayward boyfriends. He would bet good money that Tim was gambling on him being unable to refuse a woman in trouble.

He sighed, the trouble with best friends is they know you too well.

‘Tell me about him,’ Mac asked, resigned to his fate.

She sat down again and her face lit up as she remembered.

‘We met in one of the best salons in London. He was young, beautiful and he really knew how to cut hair. After he’d cut my hair once I never let anyone else near it. Then gradually I began to get feelings for him and then one day, right out of the blue, he asked me out for dinner. We had such a lovely time, he said he really liked me too and I so wanted to believe him. We became very close, Giorgio quit his job and we travelled the world. God, those days were so much fun, when it was just the two of us. I told myself it was just a thing but in the end I couldn’t help myself and, against my better judgment, I fell in love with him. I couldn’t sleep last night so I had a look at some of the photos we took back then. I was so happy and I thought he was too, but, if I’m honest, I knew in my heart it had to end someday. It always ends’.

‘You’ve been cheated on before?’

She got up again and went back to the window.

‘Yes Laura de Vesey, walking cash machine, that’s me. You know I’ve heard it said that people envy me but if only they knew, money can be such a curse. Every time I’ve trusted a man, even my own father, I’ve been let down. At the end of the day it always turned out that it was the money that mattered most. But Giorgio, I thought he was different, I thought…oh what does it bloody matter what I thought!’ she said angrily.

He suspected the anger was aimed mostly at herself.

‘Laura, please sit down. Tell me about Giorgio’.

She did as he said.

‘God, you hear about these rich women falling in love with their hairdressers all the time, how bloody original is that? But it wasn’t like that Mr. Maguire, it really wasn’t. He’s younger than me, but just by a couple of years, and he’s the most caring man I’ve ever met. Giorgio gave me hope, I was sure he loved me too. Perhaps he did for a while but nothing lasts does it?’

‘When did you start suspecting he was seeing someone else?’

‘It was gradual but looking back I suppose he started losing interest in me about six or seven months ago. He didn’t want to travel any more, he said fun can only last so long and he needed to be doing something. So now he’s ‘doing something’, while I just sit at home all day.’

‘What does he do?’

‘He’s gone back to hairdressing and in a short time he’s built his salon up to be one of the best in London. He is incredibly good at what he does and, if I’m honest, I envy him his success a little. What have I ever done apart from having money?’

‘I take it you provided the funds to start his business off?’

Laura nodded.

‘He’s a good investment though, I lent him just over a million and he’s already paid nearly half of it back’.

Mac saw a despairing look pass over Laura’s face.

‘And you’re worried that when it’s all paid back he won’t need you any more’.

‘Yes, why should he? He can make his own money doing something he’s good at and loves doing. What else have I got to offer other than money?’

Mac wondered at such an elegant and obviously intelligent woman thinking so little of herself.

‘So what specifically makes you think another woman is involved?’

‘History I suppose, it always ends that way but there are other things. I’ll admit he’s been working hard and doesn’t spend as much time at home as he used to but I feel there’s a distance beginning to build between us. Who knows, perhaps it was already there and it was just my imagination that he cared at all.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘I’ve known him for over a year now and he’s never told me much about his life before we met or his family. He let it slip once he has a sister but I’ve never met her. He’s always avoided talking about his family, mention family and he’d change the subject. But I never pressed him, I didn’t want to spoil things. I think he must have had an unhappy childhood though, I’ve seen him quite sad at times, but he’d never tell me anything. If you love someone aren’t you supposed to tell them everything? God, I’ve been such a bloody fool again, haven’t I? I never see it coming. Anyway that’s all I know, he has a sister, who is married and lives in Watford somewhere.’

Mac was intrigued.

‘Any idea why he never took you to see his sister?’

She shrugged.

‘I used to think it was because he was ashamed of her for some reason, I mean Watford, not very upmarket is it?’

‘You don’t think that now though,’ he stated.

‘No, no I don’t. Last week I picked up the phone. Giorgio must have thought I was out, he was on the extension talking to a woman.’

She glanced at Mac shame-faced.

‘I know I shouldn’t have listened in but I thought at last that this was her, the woman he‘s been seeing. I just couldn’t help myself, I’ve been so unhappy.’

He could see the seeds of tears forming in her eyes. He wanted to spare her the indignity of crying in front of a stranger.

‘Can I get you a glass of water?’

Laura nodded.

Mac went next door where there was a little kitchen area and gave her a few minutes.

‘Thanks,’ she said as he gave her the glass. She looked a little more composed.