Murder By Accident

by Veronica Heley

  ‘Well, my dears,’ said Ellie. ‘I would welcome your reactions. Was it only yesterday morning that I heard from Jimbo that he’d found a body?

  It seems like a lifetime ago …’

  Kate and Armand heard her out without comment. Ellie concluded, in

  a voice which tried not to wobble, ‘… and I suppose I’m so shattered

  because I’ve never been accused of trying to kill someone before.’ Or

  more than half believed that her own daughter had done it. She realized she was holding an empty glass. Had she really drunk all

  that wine? She’d better not try to stand up too quickly or she’d fall over. Armand stabbed the air with a forefinger. ‘Whoever arranged the

  “accident” wasn’t too bright. Why not pick on a method which would

  definitely take out the target, instead of an innocent bystander?’ Kate shook her head. ‘You think it was Diana, don’t you?’ Ellie struggled to put her thoughts in order. At all costs she must defend

  Diana.‘No, I don’t think I do … now. I did suspect it might be her, of course.

  She was the first person that sprang to mind because she had the

  strongest motive and she’s in contact with dozens of builders and

  decorators and plumbers and electricians. Yes, it did cross my mind that

  she could have asked someone to alter the wiring for her, meaning she’d

  never need to go near the house to kill her great-aunt.

  ‘Only, this evening she nearly hit Aunt Drusilla and said that if she’d

  tried to kill her, she would have succeeded. It was the voice of truth.’ Kate brushed back a wing of dark hair. ‘From what you say, the police

  are interviewing everyone who might possibly gain from Miss Quicke’s

  death. It sounds as if they’re floundering around, trying to get a lead.

  What about Roy?’

  ‘I don’t know where he is. Possibly being interviewed by the inspector

  who saw Diana. I had DS Willis and so, I think, did Jimbo.You think Roy’s

  been in with the police all day? He’s in the clear. Granted, he’d know how

  to fiddle with the wiring, but his reaction on hearing that she’d died … no,

  it wasn’t him.’

  Armand was still brooding on the means used to kill. He could be very

  obsessive at times. ‘I still say it’s a strange method to use. Suppose Mrs

  Rose had turned the television on, while seeing Miss Quicke to bed.

  Then it would have been her that got killed.’

  ‘Apparently not,’ said Ellie, trying not to show how much the idea of

  Rose being killed upset her. ‘There was only sufficient current going

  through the wire to shock someone, not to kill them. It was Mrs Tucker’s

  heart condition which did for her.’

  ‘Did the person who set the trap know that? Did they intend to kill, or

  did they intend to give someone a shock?’

  ‘Dear Armand, you always think so clearly,’ said Ellie. Her head was

  swimming. She had definitely had too much to drink. She tried to heave herself out of the chair and failed. ‘Oh dear, I think I’ve had a little too

  much to drink.’

  Kate made for the kitchen. ‘I’ll get you something to eat.’ Armand was continuing to think about the ‘accident’. ‘It would have

  been less risky to loosen the bolts of a wall radiator, and make sure it fell

  into the bath while Miss Quicke was in it. That would kill. Or make sure the

  voltage going through the wire to the television aerial was sufficiently

  strong. Or fiddle with a kettle …’

  Ellie rubbed her forehead. ‘There was trouble with a new kettle. Rose

  said that it wouldn’t work and so they took it back to the shop yesterday

  morning – which was why they were out of the house when Mrs Tucker

  died.’

  ‘Have the police looked at the kettle? Are they considering the other

  options?’

  ‘What other options?’ Ellie couldn’t think straight any more. ‘Have they checked the rest of the wiring in the house? Have they

  asked the electricians what they think about the wiring? Has Miss Quicke

  sacked any of them lately? Or any of the other workpeople who’ve been

  swarming all over that house recently? It seems to me that if the aim was

  to shock and not to kill, then you should be looking at some workman

  she’d sacked, rather than a member of her family. What point would there

  be in some member of her family giving her an electric shock?’ Ellie thought muzzily that there might have been a reason, but couldn’t

  for the moment remember what it was.

  Kate put a plate of thickly buttered bread and some cheese in front of

  Ellie, and told her to eat up. Ellie took a small bite and chewed. She ought

  to be hungry but somehow it was difficult to get interested in the food.

  Kate was not a great cook. She and Armand lived mostly on take-aways

  and frozen meals. Ellie’s own house and the supper Rose was preparing

  seemed a long way away.

  ‘If I’m right,’ said Armand, ‘it lets you and your family off the hook.’ Ellie nodded. Wished she hadn’t. The room was gently tipping onto its

  side.

  Kate put her arm under Ellie’s, heaved her to her feet and guided her

  out of the sitting room and into the kitchen. ‘Let’s get some coffee or tea

  into you.’

  Ellie drank a couple of mugs full of tea, which didn’t seem to help

  much. She couldn’t eat a thing. She visited the bathroom, but didn’t feel

  much better afterwards.

  Armand had gone off to tackle some of the marking he had to do, but

  Kate sat opposite Ellie, ready to help in whatever way she could. ‘Your colour’s not very good,’ said Kate.

  ‘I don’t usually drink more than half a glass of anything. Stupid me.’ ‘I suppose everyone’s entitled, once in a while. So tell me, what about

  this dinner dance on Saturday? Have you something to wear?’ Ellie started to shake her head. Remembered it made the room tip

  sideways. Mumbled, ‘No.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ said Kate, stretching long legs at the side of the table.

  ‘I’m taking the morning off tomorrow. I need a new suit, something in grey,

  not the usual black. How’s about us going shopping together?’ Ellie blinked. Some vestige of reason thrust through her woozy mindset.

  ‘I’d thought that the charity shop in the Avenue might …’

  ‘No way. Harvey Nicholls? No, I’ve got it. Bond Street. I know just the

  place. You need some elegant clothes, understated, well cut. No black or

  midnight blue, understand?’

  Ellie blinked again. ‘Retail therapy? As in taking my mind off things?’ ‘Retail therapy, as in presenting the real Ellie Quicke to the world. Over

  the last six months you’ve changed a lot. You’ve stopped being a

  downtrodden housewife who thinks men always know best, and become

  a personage in your own right. I know you think it’s wasteful to spend

  money on yourself, but one or two good outfits will last ages. You know

  what colours suit you, but you haven’t quite got the hang of what necklines

  flatter you and it’s never too late to learn that a lined skirt hangs better

  than a skirt over a slip. That top you’re wearing doesn’t do anything for

  you. The neck’s all wrong. And the skirt sags.’

  ‘You sound like Diana. She’s always on at me to smarten up, but says

  it’s no use my buying new clothes till I’ve lost a couple of stone in weight.’ ‘Your figure’s good. Don’t let her tea
se you into dieting. Older women

  need to have a little softness on their bones or they start to look haggard.

  I don’t suppose you’ll believe me, but you’re a pretty woman and could

  be a smasher. You’re feeling better. Sorry we pushed so much alcohol

  down you. Nine o’clock tomorrow, we’re off up Town. Right?’ Ellie reached for her handkerchief. Couldn’t find it. Kate pushed a box

  of tissues in her direction.

  ‘I did think of having my hair cut somewhere in Town.’

  ‘I’ll make an appointment for you at my hairdresser’s in the afternoon.’ ‘Dear Kate, I …’

  Kate made a shushing movement. Ellie wobbled to her feet. The floor

  stayed put. Perhaps she could make it back home without disgracing

  herself. But eating lamb stew might not be a good idea.

  ‘I really cannot think why people get drunk in order to forget. It seems

  to me a most unpleasant experience.’

  Kate laughed, and said she’d see Ellie back to her own front door. As

  they went down the path to Ellie’s house, Roy’s car drew up and he got

  out, slamming the door behind him. ‘What a day I’ve had …!’ ‘Oh dear,’ said Kate, under her breath. ‘His Master’s Voice …’ Ellie tried not to giggle, but couldn’t help it. ‘I forgot to bring my key out

  with me so I’ll have to ring the bell and get Rose to open up. I’m all right

  now, Kate. Really. I can cope.’

  Roy strode down the path, emitting sparks of frustration, expecting

  Ellie to open the door for him. Kate dodged round him. He probably didn’t

  even see her.

  ‘Do you realize, I’ve wasted a whole day at the police station with that

  something inspector? They think that I …! Ridiculous!’

  ‘Come in, dear Roy,’ said Ellie, pressing the bell. She didn’t add, And

  tell me all about it. That was, of course, what he was expecting to hear.

  But she didn’t think she was up to giving the right responses of Ooh, and

  Aah, and Oh, you poor dear. It was all right saying that women could think

  of three things at once, but what Armand had said – which had seemed

  extremely profound and of maximum importance at the time – seemed to

  be slipping in and out of her head.

  Rose opened the door, looking worried. ‘Oh Ellie, dear. Thank

  goodness you’ve come back. I just don’t know what to do. Miss Quicke

  is having a little nap, quite tired out, and the supper’s almost ready but

  Diana and that rather nasty little estate agent are still in the living room

  and the supper won’t stretch to five, never mind that Miss Quicke won’t

  want to sit down at table with Diana … and the dining table’s in that

  room, too.’

  ‘Dear Rose,’ said Ellie, enveloping her in a big hug. ‘You are the best

  thing that’s happened to us for mears. I mean years. I love you dearly. Roy

  dear, can you hang up your own coat? You can have my supper. I don’t

  want many. Any. I’ll get rid of Diana and Mr Jolley, don’t you fuss. Yes,

  that’s the right word. Fuss. Did you know it was probably an electrician

  that Aunt Drusilla sacked who tried to give her a fright?’ She frowned. ‘Is

  that right? I’ve had too much alcohol, you see, but I’ll be all right when

  I’ve had a little lie down.’

  She looked at the staircase. The treads seemed somewhat steeper

  than usual, and the banister further away. One step. There. Managed it.

  Another step. And another. Someone seemed to be calling her name.

  Well, let them call. Bed beckoned. Reckoned. That wasn’t right. Could she bend down to take off her shoes? No, better not. She lowered

  herself on to her bed with care, managed to lift her legs up … and away

  she went … whoops, off and away …

  The man whistled between his teeth as he punched in his favourite combination of numbers.

  ‘Hi. Look, I got delayed. Spot of overtime. Nearly done here, though. Leave in a half, probbly. Everything all right your end?’

  ‘I went round to see the lady in waiting, but she’d already gone. Her

  neighbour said she’s back looking after her highness again. Did you find

  out if they’d gone to the stroppy cow’s?’

  ‘I can check on the way home, like I said.’

  ‘You do that. I want to get moving on this. And she’d better listen this

  time.’

  Ellie woke to darkness. Where was she? Why was she so thirsty? And why was she lying on her bed, fully dressed?

  Ah. She remembered. Put the light on. Four o’clock. The worst time of

  the night, when nasty things came crawling out of the back of your mind and pounced on you and wouldn’t let go. When you knew that if you woke up at that time, you wouldn’t sleep again properly. When hope vanished to be defeated by despair. Oh, Diana …

  It was raining again. The builders still hadn’t mended her gutter or been to look at the toilet and with three people in the house, this was getting serious. What’s more, she could hear the overspill from the gutter thumping down on to the window ledge … thump, thump, thump …

  Got out of bed, moving with care. Undressed. Couldn’t have a bath or a shower because it would wake Aunt Drusilla. Gentle snores were coming from both the other bedrooms, so dear Rose must be sleeping here as well. Went to the bathroom and strip-washed. Felt even more thirsty.

  Cup of tea required.

  Ellie eased herself down the stairs in her dressing gown and fluffy slippers, closed the kitchen door firmly behind her and put the kettle on. Midge plopped in through the cat flap and got in the way while Ellie made herself some tea. So she fed him.

  The kitchen was tidy enough, though Rose had left the plates on the draining board to dry, instead of putting them away. Ellie told herself that that didn’t matter and she was not going to let herself get irritated by it.

  Ellie hooked her ankles round a kitchen chair and slumped down, hoping the tea would make her brain kick in with something positive.

  Because at the moment all she could think of was that Diana was going to be the chief suspect in the case of the murdered cleaner. No, not murder. Manslaughter. Probably. Hopefully.

  Diana’s attempt to implicate Stewart would soon be seen for what it was – an act of spite, without foundation. Diana had told far too many people that she expected to inherit a considerable fortune from her greataunt. Diana had been sacked for bribery and corruption and it had been done officially, in writing. The police would be able to build a good case against her for motive. As for means and opportunity, wasn’t Diana in contact with those who could have rigged the wiring, every day of the week?

  Then there was the interesting matter of her moving in on a man whose ethics Ellie had always considered slightly suspect, while she was still married to Stewart. Also, Diana’s manner … Ellie shuddered. Suppose Diana were to lose control and start screaming at the police, as she had done at Aunt Drusilla the previous night?

  Ellie told herself that Diana hadn’t done it. No. Ellie was absolutely sure that she hadn’t. The way Diana had threatened Aunt Drusilla had convinced Ellie, but would it convince the police? Wouldn’t they probe and investigate and question till Diana lost her temper and admitted that she had threatened to kill Aunt Drusilla?

  Ellie shuddered. She poured herself a second cup of tea. The boiler was ticking over, pushing out heat in friendly fashion. Ellie usually had it closed down at night, but someone – probably Aunt Drusilla – had managed to reset it to provide heat throughout the night. For once Ellie didn’t think about the heating bill, but was grateful for the warmth.

  So, let’s look at what’s likely to happen. Diana will be taken in by
the police for questioning again. It would depend on how much evidence they had amassed against her, whether or not they would keep her in. Diana would no doubt yell for a solicitor as soon as she realized the danger.

  Would Bill help Diana? Hmmm. Possibly not.

  If Ellie were to ask him to help, would he do so? Possibly not. But he might ask his junior partner to look after Diana, if Ellie agreed to pay his fees.

  Yes, that would be the best thing to do. She must speak to Bill tomorrow first thing in the morning. Friday was going to be a busy day, shopping with Kate, having her hair done.

  No, she couldn’t possibly go out shopping while so much was happening. Aunt Drusilla and Rose needed looking after and that wretched gutter had still not mended. Then there was the party tonight at the church to welcome the new vicar, who would be installed on Sunday.

  Before that, on Saturday there was Joyce’s wedding and the Golf Club dinner.

  Ellie groaned. How could she think of such things when so much was going wrong in her family? Take Stewart, for instance. How was he coping? And little Frank? Would Diana give him a second thought, having committed herself to Derek Jolley? How could she put the little boy out of her mind so easily?

  Oh, surely Diana would remember him. She was devoted to him. Of course she was. It was ridiculous to think that she would throw little Frank out with the bath-water, with Stewart. Quite ridiculous.

  Nevertheless at half past four in the morning, Ellie did think it and tried to formulate some plan of action to rescue her grandchild, and Stewart, and … have them to live with her? In this house? Which was already occupied by Aunt Drusilla and Rose?

  Well, Rose could go back to her flat in the daytime, and surely the police would soon release their hold on Aunt Drusilla’s place and everything would go back to normal.

  Well, no. It couldn’t go back to normal with that poor woman lying dead in the morgue and her family bereft. Aunt Drusilla had been a little hard on that man, what was his name? Norm? Short for Norman? But there, Aunt Drusilla had been within her rights, hadn’t she? And Maria at the agency would probably be able to help them file an insurance claim of some sort.

  So.

  Who had killed the woman? (Apart from Diana, that is.)

  Ellie tried hard to remember what Armand had said to her. Both Armand and Kate thought very clearly. And they had said …

  No, it had gone.

  Midge jumped on to her lap and nuzzled her chin. He purred so loudly that Ellie felt herself smile. She hadn’t meant to smile, but Midge had made her. She stroked him and he half closed his eyes and trod money on her dressing gown. Ouch. His claws had gone through the material.