The Body in the Boot: The first 'Mac' Maguire mystery (2 page)

Luton Police Station was red brick and, like most police stations, stolid and quite unremarkable. Mac was grateful that there was a ramp outside leading up to the main entrance. Although he could do stairs if pushed he preferred not to. He was never quite sure where to put his crutch and he was scared of tripping up as any type of fall might leave him in abject pain for weeks afterwards. Although it was only a short walk he found that his back was grumbling by the time he reached the front door.

Inside a woman constable manned an enquiry desk and there was a queue. When it was finally his turn he asked the policewoman if he could see Detective Inspector Carter. He gave her one of the business cards Bridget had printed for him and she ordered him to take a seat.

He looked up at the clock on the wall, it was a quarter past ten. At eleven o’clock he was still waiting and wondered if all private detective work was this boring. He had to keep standing up and shuffling around the confined waiting area every ten minutes or so to stop his back from stiffening up. By half eleven he’d read every poster on the notice board and was just about to call it a day when a young detective called his name. Mac followed him down several corridors and was puzzled for a moment when the young man gave him a questioning look as he ushered him into an interview room. The room contained only four chairs, a table, some recording equipment and a very grumpy looking policeman in his late thirties.

The policeman, who was rumpled and unshaven, waved at him to take a seat. He looked at Mac’s card with clear suspicion.

‘Private detective are we?’ he said as he threw Mac’s card back at him. ‘Before we start I’d just like to say that I don’t particularly like people like you on my patch. You’re all just bloody amateurs who’ve read a few magazines and then suddenly decide that you’re a detective. If you’ve got any credentials, which I doubt, you probably got them by saving cereal box tops. I don’t know what you want but we don’t give information out or want to work with people who are…’

The DI’s tirade was halted by the soft trill of his mobile phone. He read a message from the screen and glanced up at Mac. He leant across the table, picked up the business card and read it again. He dry washed his face vigorously with both hands and then looked at Mac with a tired, resigned expression.

‘It says on the card that you’re from the Garden City Detective Agency which is all I read if I’m honest. It also says ‘Contact Mac Maguire’ in smaller letters.’

DI Carter cleared his throat and gave Mac a lugubrious look.

‘Now that wouldn’t be the same Mac Maguire who, until fairly recently, was a Detective Chief Superintendent in the Met and head of the Murder Squad?’

Mac nodded.

‘Just isn’t my day is it? I’m sorry sir about my comments…’

Mac cut him short.

‘If it’s any help I also found most private detectives a pain in the backside too. Shall we start again?’

‘Please,’ DI Carter said, managing a faint smile.

‘I’m representing Mrs. Janet Lewinton whose daughter, Henrietta, was found dead the day before yesterday in the boot of a car.’

The DI looked at Mac quizzically.

‘Sorry, I’ve not been across that case. We’ve just had a major terror alert which thankfully turned out to be a damp squib. Could have done without it though, took the last two days to get it all sorted. Body in a car boot?’

He gave it some thought.

‘Oh yes, I remember now. It seemed pretty much an open and shut case so I gave it to one of my new detectives, in fact it was the young copper who showed you in a few minutes ago. I’ll go get him and then, if it’s okay, I’m going home for some much needed sleep.’

‘Of course,’ Mac replied.

Mac thought of what the terror alert must have been like and the similar moments he’d had in his career, his team working together for days on end, fuelled only by the odd pint, junk food and adrenalin. It could be gruelling and bloody frustrating, especially when you didn’t get a result, but there was something glorious about it too, a team of different talents all working towards the same end, the thrill of the chase and the camaraderie. It was the camaraderie Mac realised he missed the most. He’d never really known what loneliness was until this last six months.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. The young detective walked in and sat on the other side of the table. He was tall and slim and looked to Mac as though he should still be in school uniform. He placed a thin manila folder on the table.

‘Good morning DCS Maguire, I’m Detective Constable Tommy Nugent,’ he said respectfully as he pushed the folder towards Mac.

Mac was intrigued.

‘Was it you who texted DI Carter?’ he asked as he picked up the folder.

‘Yes, how did you know that?’

‘It was that look you gave me as you walked me down the hallway. I could tell you recognised me somehow.’

‘Did you know they use some of your cases in the training course?’

‘Really?’

Mac was absurdly gratified when he heard this and felt that he hadn’t been forgotten.

‘Is that how you recognised me?’

The young detective nodded.

‘I’d have recognised you anyway. Some years ago my mother bought this book. She thought it was really good and so she gave it to me and said I should read it. I have to admit I wasn’t into reading that much but one rainy day I was bored rigid and gave it a go. I found that I couldn’t put it down and when I finished it I went straight back to the start and read it again.’

‘What was the book?’ Mac asked, genuinely interested in what the answer might be.

‘It was called ‘The Perkis Investigation’ and it was about how you caught Hugh Perkis. I thought it was brilliant, still do. It made me want to be a detective.’

Hugh Perkis had been a particularly noxious and elusive serial killer. He’d preyed on young homeless boys and Mac had only caught him after he’d killed eight times. He’d not only had the killer but his own department against him for much of the investigation. His superiors didn’t believe the killings were linked and anyway rent boys hadn’t been deemed much of a priority at the time. It had taken all his determination to solve that one.

A BBC reporter, who was also a friend, had written about the case and, to their surprise, the book became something of a best seller. He’d always worried about whether the book might have trivialised police work in some way but, even if Tommy had been the only person inspired by it to take up police work, he now felt it had been well worth it.

‘Good,’ Mac said, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he opened the folder.

There wasn’t much in it, only a collision report, a statement from the driver who had discovered the body and some photos. He read the statement and report, which contained little of interest, and then looked at the photos. They showed the two cars from several angles and there were several of the body in the boot. It was completely covered except for a long white slender arm which stood out in stark relief against the dark coloured blanket.

‘Haven’t forensics done a report or taken any photos yet?’ Mac asked

The young detective shook his head.

‘Their priority’s been the terror alert and they were a bit backed up before that anyway. Want to go over to the morgue and see what’s happening?’

‘Will that be okay?’

‘Absolutely, DI Carter said to give you every possible co-operation.’

Mac made a mental note to thank DI Carter when they next met.

Tommy ushered Mac down a corridor into the car park and opened the passenger door of an unmarked police car for him. He wasn’t overly familiar with Luton so he had no idea where Tommy was driving him. After fifteen minutes they pulled into the back car park of a hospital building near a door which had a ramp leading up to it. A sign said ‘Morgue – no entrance unless authorised’. Tommy opened the door for him and then rang the bell in the cramped reception area. A few minutes later a harassed looking young woman in a white coat came out.

Tommy showed her his warrant card and said, ‘We’re here about Henrietta Lewinton.’

‘Is that one of the staff or one of the deceased?’ she reasonably asked.

‘One of the deceased,’ Tommy confirmed.

‘I’ll just be a minute,’ she said and disappeared again through the double doors again.

‘It’s only temporary,’ Tommy said while they waited.

Seeing that Mac clearly had no idea what he was talking about he continued, ‘This, the morgue. I believe that we’re pooling resources with the Hertfordshire and Cambridgeshire forces so we’ll have a state of the art facility someday. Only problem is it’ll probably be miles away.’

Mac nodded and tried to think of something to contribute to Tommy’s strained efforts at small talk. He was glad to see the young woman emerge again.

‘You’re in luck,’ she said smiling. ‘Henrietta Lewinton is next up if you want to come and have a look.’

Tommy’s face was a picture. Mac could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to seeing a dead body cut open. After some thirty years he’d never quite gotten used to it himself.

They followed her down several very long corridors. Mac started saying a little prayer that it wouldn’t be too much further as he’d already walked too far today. If he overdid it the pain was rarely immediate, it usually came some twelve to eighteen hours later. Thankfully she stopped, opened a door and ushered them into a darkened room. It had a large glass window that overlooked the autopsy room. Below them a body lay on a stainless steel table covered by a white sheet.

‘We use this for students mostly. You can see and hear everything the professor says,’ she said pointing to a speaker on the wall.

‘The professor?’ Mac asked.

‘Yes Professor MacFarlane, he’s Head of Life Sciences at the university, very highly thought of pathologist,’ she said as she disappeared through the door.

‘Might as well make ourselves comfortable,’ Mac said, grateful to be able sit down. Tommy took the seat next to him. ‘Good view from here isn’t it?’

From Tommy’s expression it was clear the view might be a bit too good.

‘Is this the first time you’ve attended an autopsy?’ Mac asked.

‘No, this will be the second,’ Tommy replied, looking very ill at ease.

‘How did the first one go?’

Tommy hesitated before saying, ‘I threw up.’

‘So did I. Didn’t even make it to the toilet.’

‘Really?’

It was clear that Mac’s confession had cheered him up a little.

‘Yes really. Never happened again but even after all this time I still don’t like it much.’

A gowned figure strode into the operating theatre below and the loud speaker came to life.

‘Right what have we got?’

Without waiting for an answer he quickly read from a computer screen.

‘Okay, Henrietta Lewinton, white female, twenty two, dead at least a day. Known prostitute and drug user, found in the boot of a car, assumed to be a drugs OD. Why are we doing this one?’ he asked his assistant.

‘Because of the tox results,’ she replied.

He spent a few seconds scanning the results.

‘No trace of heroin, crack, the usual suspects…now that’s a surprise. If she was a user it should show something. So what killed her then? There’s some odd peaks here though, haven’t seen those before. Right let’s have a look at her then.’

He pulled the sheet down and started examining the body. He removed her dress.

‘She has a thin dress on and no undergarments, not exactly dressed for the weather we’ve been getting. Even more puzzling, she has plenty of needle marks, some of which look relatively recent too.’

He turned the body over and examined it for some time. He went back and looked at the computer screen again.

‘She’s supposed to have been dead for at least a day and perhaps more. Has someone made a mistake?’

‘No, I remember her coming in. It was definitely yesterday evening,’ the assistant replied.

‘There’s no lividity,’ the professor said as he placed the body on its back.

He walked quickly over to a cabinet and started pulling instruments out until he found the one he wanted. It was a small mirror on a handle, Mac had seen his dentist use the same instrument when getting a filling. He wondered what the pathologist wanted it for.

The professor, instead of putting it in the mouth, held it near the mouth for at least a couple of minutes. Mac wondered what he was doing.

Both he and Tommy jumped when the professor shouted, ‘Christ, call an ambulance and get a blanket. She’s still alive!’

Mac managed to get a few words with the professor after the ambulance had gone. He looked quite shocked.

‘I’ve heard of these things happening but I’ve never really believed it. Always thought it more likely that someone had cocked up.’

‘Did anyone cock up here?’ Mac asked.

The professor shook his head. He seemed in some disbelief himself.

‘Of course I can’t be sure but probably not. You see liver mortis only starts after four or five hours...’

The professor felt the need to explain.

‘Lividity, you know black and blue marks in the lowest point of the body where the blood has pooled…’

He stopped, seeing from their expressions that Mac and Tommy already knew what lividity was.

‘Sorry, I keep forgetting that everyone watches CSI these days. Anyway someone would have given her a quick look over when she came in and, as you wouldn’t expect lividity to necessarily show up so soon after death, they would just have checked for vital signs. There being none, they put her in the morgue pending.’

‘Pending what?’ Mac asked.

‘Pending further action, if there was any that is. If we’re really stretched, as we always seem to be these days, and it’s obviously an overdose then we might not examine any further. It’s funny though, we seem to have had quite a few overdoses in recent months.’

‘You say there were no vital signs, then how can she be alive?’ Tommy asked.

‘Now that’s a good question. I only knew there might be a chance she was alive because of the lack of lividity. I held the mirror to her mouth and it fogged up but it took its bloody time. I examined her as much as I could while waiting for the ambulance and, if I’m honest I still might have pronounced her dead if I didn’t know better. I eventually found a sort of a pulse but it’s incredibly slow, almost undetectable and her body temperature is way lower than you’d expect for anyone who wasn’t dead. It’s like she’s in a sort of hibernation, the body is only just about ticking over. In twenty five years I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘What about the needle marks?’ Mac asked.

‘Yes, they’re strange seeing as how she had no known drugs in her system.’

‘Known drugs?’

‘People don’t spontaneously go into the state that young girl is in, something made her like that. Looking at the needle marks you can see than some are more recent than others. She’s probably had a couple of injections a day for at least a couple of weeks. Hopefully the hospital should be able to identify what it is.’

The professor’s assistant interrupted them.

‘I’m sorry but you’ve got a call from the Executive Dean of the University.’

‘Well, I better not leave him waiting too long. I’m sorry gentleman but I have to go.’

‘If you think of anything that might help us…’ Tommy said as he gave him a card.

‘Of course,’ the professor said as he made for the door.

He stopped as he was halfway out and turned.

‘You know, since seeing the tox results and the needle marks, there’s an idea I can’t get out of my head. You don’t suppose someone’s been using her as a lab rat do you?’

Without waiting for an answer he disappeared.

Mac and Tommy looked at each other, the distaste at the idea clearly showing on both their faces.

‘Where have they taken her?’ Mac asked.

‘To the Accident and Emergency at Luton and Dunstable Hospital.’

‘Isn’t this a hospital?’

‘Yes but it’s a mental hospital,’ Tommy replied.

‘Oh, I see. Take me to the Luton and Dunstable Hospital then.’

It took less than ten minutes before they arrived outside the emergency entrance. The hospital was like most Mac had visited, too big, too confusing and too impersonal. Tommy spoke to one of the women manning reception.

‘She’s in the EAU, the Emergency Assessment Unit which she said is this way,’ Tommy said, pointing to his left.

Mac followed Tommy into what seemed an endless corridor. His heart sank as he looked at the length he’d have to walk.

‘Just hang on,’ Tommy said, noticing Mac’s pained expression.

He returned a few minutes later with a wheelchair and a big grin.

‘Tommy’s Taxis, want a lift?’

Mac felt like a big girl’s blouse but he still sat down and allowed Tommy to wheel him down the corridor.

‘What exactly is wrong with you? I can see you have trouble walking.’

‘They don’t know exactly, could be an old injury or some sort of slow bone disease. Whatever it is something has eaten away a good bit of my spine. The bottom three vertebrae are basically buggered, as are the discs in between.’

‘They don’t know?’

‘Yes you’d think with all the technology they have nowadays.  Anyway I’ve had a CT scan, a bone scan and umpteen MRI scans and that’s all they can tell me. Of course my neurologist says if I really want to know he can open me up, only problem is I might not be able to walk afterwards and the pain might get even worse.’

‘Are you in pain all the time?’

‘Yes, sometimes less, sometimes more, but it’s always there.’

‘Can’t they do anything at all?’

‘My neurologist says that, although medicine has come a long way, they can’t rebuild spines just yet.’

‘How do you cope?’

Mac couldn’t see Tommy’s face but he could hear his concern in his voice.

‘A day at a time, plus I use some really heavy duty painkillers. There’s a drug called Fentanyl, a hundred times stronger than Morphine, it’s on a little plastic patch that I stick on my shoulder every couple of days. If it wasn’t for that…’

Mac paused as he saw a sign for the EAU and stuck his right hand out to indicate that they should go right. Another lengthy corridor faced them and Mac was even more thankful that Tommy had found the wheelchair. Halfway down the corridor they found the unit. They parked the wheelchair outside and went in.

Inside it was a hive of activity, nurses and doctors crowded around a central nursing station completing paperwork or looking at computer screens. It all looked a little chaotic but Mac was sure there must be some underlying order to it all. He glanced at a large whiteboard which had the names of the patients scribbled on it and where they were located.

‘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?’