A Dreadful Past by Peter Turnbull Read Free Book Online

sounding an alarm. The magpie flew away as I approached but only just out of my reach – he wasn’t giving up easily. The thrush lay doggo while I stood guarding it and the second thrush and the magpie remained in the vicinity. I thought the second thrush demonstrated great loyalty. Eventually the magpie gave up and flew away, and the first thrush got to its feet. He didn’t seem to be damaged by the magpie pecking at its head and he flew off with his mate. But wretched birds are magpies, utterly loathsome creatures.’
    â€˜Yes,’ Hennessey replied, eating a muffin, ‘I confess I care not for them, though I don’t feel as strongly as you clearly do. You know the children’s rhyme about magpies, “One for sorrow, Two for joy …”?’
    â€˜â€œThree for a girl, four for a boy”?’ Jenny quoted. ‘Yes, I know it.’
    â€˜Well, apparently it has some basis in fact.’ Hennessey reached for another muffin.
    â€˜Really?’ Jenny turned to Hennessey, who noticed that the elderly, retired police officer had a distinct sparkle and a look of alertness in his eyes.
    â€˜Oh, yes.’ Hennessey surveyed the garden, noted how well-ordered it was and realized that a lot of hard work had been expended in it, either by the Jennys’ or by a contract gardener. ‘Yes,’ he repeated, ‘the magpie is a gregarious bird … it likes company and it flies in flocks, but occasionally one sees a lone magpie who hasn’t got any mates.’
    â€˜Like the one I just threw my plate at,’ Jenny growled. ‘Like him?’
    â€˜Yes … exactly,’ Hennessey replied, ‘just like him. Well, he, the single magpie, is the thieving magpie. It isn’t a flock of magpies which fly into your bedroom via the open window and steel the engagement ring and anything else which glints in the sun, it’s the lone magpie … hence “One for sorrow”.’
    â€˜Well, I never knew that.’ Jenny grinned. ‘You’re never too old to learn. Our lass will be interested to hear that … “One for sorrow” has some basis in fact.’ Jenny paused. ‘So, the Middleton murders, which is why you are here, George, not to chat about English folklore and let me spout off about my dislike of magpies.’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ Hennessey adjusted his position on the highly varnished wooden chair. ‘Irish folklore as well, in fact, before we move on to business. In Ireland the custom is to salute the single magpie to avoid sorrow coming your way but yes, the Middleton murders is the issue, sir. That is why I am here.’
    â€˜Oh, Frank, please,’ Jenny replied warmly. ‘Please, call me Frank. I am in comfortable retirement so “Frank” is preferred. “Sir” is so reminiscent of those long hours and limited home life. You know, I once went home after a long day and my son was in the living room. As I walked in, he said, “Who are you?”’
    â€˜Oh,’ Hennessey groaned, ‘that’s not funny, not funny at all. That can’t have been a good experience.’
    â€˜You can say that again,’ Jenny nodded, ‘but it brought things home to me and did so with quite an impact.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I resolved to find ways of spending more time with my family after that.’
    â€˜Yes, I can understand why, Frank. I confess I have never had that sort of experience but I can understand how it can happen. We poor coppers burn the candle at both ends, right enough.’
    â€˜We certainly do. Are you married, George?’ Jenny asked.
    â€˜Widowed, one son now an adult and making his own way in life quite successfully as well … he is a barrister, no less. I arrest and charge them and he uses public money to get them off.’ Hennessey smiled. ‘It’s the way of it. It’s how the world turns.’
    â€˜A barrister …