MAGGIE MADDISON ON THE CASE TAP ONCE FOR YES

Maggie solves the myster y of Eliza’s “haunted house” – and Eliza gives Maggie a piece of warm and useful advice

The courtyard outside Winchester Cathedral’s refectory was one of Maggie’s favourite places, and Veronica was one of her favourite people. All in all it was shaping up to be a lovely afternoon in spite of the October chill. As the rain was holding off, they huddled in coats and scarves.

“I don’t see you anymore,” Veronica said. “Our residents at Senior Living are missing their favourite district nurse. George in particular.”

“Is he still sending every plate of food back to the kitchen?’”

“Wouldn’t be George if he didn’t. I don’t blame him. Complaining is great entertainment. Actually, Maggie, that’s why I called you. I hope you don’t mind. There’s been an application I’m worried about. A lady who doesn’t have any family to look after her.”

“Go on,” Maggie said.

“Is this something that a – what do you call yourself, a private investigator…? – would deal with? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“Veronica, we’ve known each other for fifteen years. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“A doctor’s surgery approached us on behalf of a patient who they believe is developing dementia. She’s eighty, a widow, and reporting strange goings on in her property at night – noises, things moving around, dark shadows moving across the end of her bed – but when I showed her around the residence, honestly, I’d say she was sharper than the pins in my sewing box.”

“You think something is happening in her house,” Maggie said.

“I don’t believe in ghosts, you know that. The thing is, she has no children or extended family, so there’s no one else who’s going to profit from getting her sent away anywhere.”

“So you suspect foul play but you have no idea why.”

“Exactly. I’d give her a residential place with us in a heart beat -– she’d be a joy to have around, and give George a run for his money – I just don’t think she needs our level of care. Can you help?” “Of course. What’s her name?”

“Eliza Pierce. She’s lives in Southgate Street. I’ll text you the details.” Veronica laid a warm hand on Maggie’s wrist. “Thank you.”

The house was a red-brick square on three levels, and its door opened almost as soon as Maggie knocked it. Eliza gave her a broad smile and stood back for her to enter. It was immaculate. Fresh flowers adorned a small table in the entrance hall, and the kitchen smelled of baking bread and coffee.

“You’re a friend of Veronica,” Eliza said. “I liked her, very kind. Coffee?”

“Not for me, thanks,” Maggie said. “Smells lovely though”

“Decaf. I’m conscious of my blood pressure, sadly. My husband and I used to visit Tuscany once a year. Best coffee I ever tasted. Such a shame, the things you have to sacrifice to age.”

“Your independence shouldn’t be one of those things, unless you really want to move. Do you?”

“Not at all. I love my home. Louis and I lived here together for 38 years. Every corner holds a memory. Physically I’m more than capable, but the things I’m imagining…” She turned away and busied herself getting milk out of the fridge, wiping tears as she did so.

“Can you describe what’s happening? I know it’s painful. These things usually have a benign source. If I may say, I was a nurse for many years. You don’t seem to be losing your faculties to me.”

“Let me show you,” Eliza said. She took the stairs to the first floor and Maggie followed, past beautiful rooms, with pastel walls and Persian rugs, photos everywhere of a man at different stages of his life, smiling at the woman behind the camera.

“That’s Louis. He left me too soon. You see all the photos? I got up in the night a couple of weeks ago. I’d heard knocking, and a man crying, calling out my name. As I walked through the house every single photo of Louis had been placed face down. I was terrified. I ended up running from room to room. I felt sick, as if my whole life had been invaded,” Eliza said.

“Did you check your doors?”

“Front and back, both locked. The downstairs windows were locked too. A woman living alone has to be careful.”

“I know the feeling,” Maggie said. “So what happened next?”

“Eventually I went back to my bedroom. I locked the door and sat up for the rest of the night wondering if I was going out of my mind. In the morning…” She paused, fidgeting with the buttons on her cardigan. “…when I left my room again, all the photos were as they should have been. No one has a key. Either I put those photos facedown then picked them up again, or imagined the whole thing. It doesn’t matter which – I’m clearly losing my mind.”

As the tears began to fall, Maggie stepped forward and put her arms around the older woman’s shoulders.

“Eliza, are you really sure you didn’t dream it? That you didn’t sleep walk?”

“I thought of that. That wasn’t the first thing that happened, so I made sure I wasn’t imagining it. I filmed it as I went around the house.” Eliza pulled her mobile out and showed Maggie the footage, exactly as she’d described it. “There’s been knocking on my bedroom door – that was terrifying. On that occasion I actually left and went to stay at the hotel across the street. Furniture’s been moved. A fire lit in the grate when I hadn’t had one for days. The radio and TV coming on in the middle of the night. I haven’t been sleeping, so when I went for my annual check up with the doctor,

I was tearful. When I tried to explain why, he must have thought I was losing my mind. He referred me to the care home Veronica runs and I didn’t want to seem impolite so I went, but I don’t want to leave my home, Maggie, I really don’t. Please say you’ll help me.”

“Let’s go and get some of that coffee, shall we? And if you’ve got a packet of biscuits going spare, now might be the time to crack them open. Can’t solve a mystery on an empty stomach!” She took Eliza’s arm and walked her back down the stairs.

As Eliza poured the coffee, Maggie looked around. The locks on the doors were solid, and the front door had a chain too. All the window locks were in place, and fully secured.

“Veronica said you have no children. Forgive me asking such a private question, but if anything were to happen to you, who would benefit?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve been looking for charities to leave my estate to. I have some savings, stocks and shares. The house is worth a good amount. All in all, I’ll be able to do some good when I die. But I don’t like those big organisations where administrators are paid millions. I want to benefit deserving people who will really appreciate the help.”

“Do you mind if I set up cameras, Eliza? I don’t want to intrude but at least we’ll be able to see what’s happening overnight. I can be back with the equipment in a couple of hours.”

“Record away,” Elize said.

Two hours later there were three cameras set up around the house. One outside Eliza’s bedroom door, one in the kitchen with a view of the back door and another in the lounge with a view into the hallway. Maggie left Eliza with her home number.

The next morning when she returned, Eliza was pale and tearful. There had been groaning noises outside her bedroom door and scraping noises from the cellar. Maggie got out her laptop, downloaded the footage gathered overnight, and began watching. Neither the front nor the back door opened all night. Outside Eliza’s bedroom door, at 2am, a dark figure passed the camera. Tall, thin, most likely male. Maggie’s heart hammered inside her chest. She watched as the figure reached for

To make sure I wasn’t imagining it, I filmed it as I went room to room