THIRTEEN
At 8.30 on the morning of 17th October 1997, District Nurse Violet Mackinnon rode her bike down Lilac Street and stopped outside No 38. She propped her bike against the wall as a shiver ran down her back. ‘Somebody walking on my grave’ she thought, lifting up the letter box lid and pulling out the string with the front door key attached.
‘Maureen love, it’s only me, Nurse Violet!’ she shouted as she opened the front door which led directly into the front room and then started back in horror. Maureen Watts lay face down on the floor, the back of her head bloodied and broken, and a thick dark pool of dried blood on the threadbare carpet. Violet swiftly checked for a sign of life, found none, and then backed out of the house,
Maureen had been a widow, living on her own in the mine
