A Dreadful Past by Peter Turnbull

tend to think that there was more to it than that. It was more than an oversight. I think that there was a story, as you suggest.’ Jenny paused and glared at the magpie. ‘I swear to you, George, that bird’s days are numbered … But anyway, the reason why I think that there was a story was and is because the father, Mr Middleton, held the entire household in the grip of fear. He was a bit of a tyrant, apparently – a lot of a tyrant, in fact – and there would have been consequences for anybody, including his wife and blind daughter, who allowed the mortise to remain unlocked. So, because of that sort of household regime, I tend to think “story” rather than “unlucky coincidence” in respect of the issue of the mortise lock.’ Jenny paused. ‘Just look at that bird … it’s still staring at us …’
    â€˜Don’t let it get to you, Frank,’ Hennessey scoffed. ‘You’re letting a bird get under your skin.’
    â€˜Whatever …’ Jenny growled, ‘but just wait till he’s looking down the barrel of a .22 with a telescopic sight. But to continue … The house cleaner who called once a week had a key but she was also cleared of all suspicion. She found the bodies, poor woman … and her emotion was genuine. I saw her later that day – she was still as white as a sheet, still totally unable to speak, clearly in a state of shock. I couldn’t, and I still cannot, see her as having any involvement, especially since she had cleaned for the family for years. She was fully trusted by the Middletons and was small and frail looking. She was just not capable of that level of violence, not even against one person, let alone three.’
    â€˜Fair enough,’ Hennessey acknowledged. ‘And, as you say, she reported the crime, she remained in the vicinity of the crime scene and is said to have been traumatized. She made the phone call to the police then went into shock. Not the actions or response of a guilty person but we’ll visit her anyway – that is, if she’s still alive.’
    â€˜Yes, if she’s still alive,’ Jenny replied, ‘and it’s a big if. A very big if indeed. As I recall she was no spring chicken at the time.’ Jenny sipped his tea. Then he said, after a pause, ‘You know, in hindsight I don’t think that we inquired as much of the neighbours as we could have done. It’s something you and your team might like to consider doing.’
    â€˜Neighbours?’ Hennessey glanced at Jenny. ‘I didn’t know that there were any neighbours.’
    â€˜There weren’t, not as in the sense of neighbours in a street in a city, but there were other homes dotted about the area. We went to the adjacent farms and spoke to the residents. The Middleton home used to be a small working farm; Charles Middleton bought it and let the greater part of the acreage return to wilderness. He obviously liked a lot of space around him, and that was his downfall because there was no safety in numbers in his household situation, no close neighbour to report a disturbance,’ Jenny explained. ‘The sort of folk who live out that way would be the sort of folk to come forward if they had information but we should still have knocked on more doors than we did. I think that we should have cast a wider net; that’s a bit of wisdom in hindsight for you, George. We didn’t inquire widely enough.’
    â€˜Well, we’ll do that,’ Hennessey replied. ‘That’s a stone for us to turn over. Do you mind if I have the last muffin? And look …’ he added, with a broad grin, ‘the rain has held off. We were lucky.’
    The man stood in the gloom hunched over the thick leather-bound ledger, slowly licking his thumb and then using that thumb to turn each page. ‘I don’t understand computers,’ he explained softly, ‘and I don’t