Murder By Accident

by Veronica Heley

  Ellie let them into the conservatory. No Rose, of course. She was probably still at the church, part of the wedding-group photos. The phone in the hall was off the hook – why? – and there was no sign of Aunt Drusilla.

  Frank started to yell again as soon as they got inside. Stewart put him down, remarking that he needed changing again.

  Ellie ran her fingers back through her hair. What to do first?

  Bill. Phone Bill’s office. She got through at the first try. His secretary said that Bill had left for the day, and no, his junior partner wasn’t there, either. It was Saturday afternoon, didn’t she realize?

  So it was.

  What to do?

  She was due at the wedding reception in a minute. Rose would flutter and get in a state if Ellie were not there to calm things down. Joyce would be livid if there was the slightest crumple in the rose leaf of her most important day.

  But Diana …!

  Ellie tried Derek Jolley. No, he was still out and they didn’t think he’d be back for hours.

  Yellow pages. Solicitors.

  Who was Aunt Drusilla’s solicitor? Did any name jump out at her? No, no, no … possibly. She rather thought she’d seen this name on some correspondence which Aunt Drusilla had left lying around in a moment of uncharacteristic indiscretion.

  Brr … Brr … No reply. They’d gone home for the day, too.

  Stewart was changing little Frank. Stewart looked haggard with anxiety. Did he still love Diana, perhaps? Was her phone call to him a sign that she perhaps still had some feeling for him? Was that a wise thing to hope for?

  She tried another solicitor. No reply.

  A third. Someone was there, in a hurry, about to leave for the weekend. But he was still on the other end of the phone, and possibly their last chance. She took a deep breath in, and out. Must be calm. Be reasonable. Explained.

  No, he wasn’t interested. Put the phone down.

  Ellie went into the kitchen and ran the cold-water tap. Dashed cold water over her face, washed her hands. Got out a tin of pasta rings in tomato sauce and some cheese and handed them over to Stewart, to heat up for Frank.

  Went back to the phone.

  There was only one thing for it. She rang Bill at home. He would be there, of course … or would he have made himself scarce because of the wedding reception? She prayed he would be there, but with her luck he’d have gone out.

  He was a long time answering the phone and perhaps had already been at the sherry before he spoke.

  ‘Bill, thank goodness. Listen, we need some advice, urgently. Diana has been …’

  He listened as courteously as ever.

  ‘Has she been charged?’ Apparently not. ‘Arrested? Just “helping with their enquiries?” Hmm. I can’t get hold of my partner, he’s away this weekend.’

  ‘Yes, I know. What do we do, Bill?’

  ‘May I ask, Ellie, why you think Diana needs a solicitor?’

  Ah. That was the question, indeed.

  ‘Well, I don’t think she did it, of course not. The very idea! But there’s no denying that she did think Aunt Drusilla was going to leave her a lot of money, and of course she’s in touch with electricians all the time in her job. The keys to Aunt Drusilla’s house must have passed through many hands because she’s had all those workmen in. Almost anybody could have got hold of one.’

  ‘Surely the same thing applies to you? And to Stewart? You’ve both been called in to “help with enquiries” before now, haven’t you? I seem to remember that it was only on Thursday that you yourself needed me to put in a good word for you with the police. So why are you panicking?’

  ‘I’m not panicking. Of course I’m not panicking. It’s just that she rang Stewart to let him know that she was being taken to the police station, she didn’t know how long she was going to be, and she asked him to fetch her. It was a cry for help, you see, because she and Stewart are not on good terms. In fact, they’ve just separated and she’s moved in with someone else.’

  Ellie improvised. ‘I’m sure this separation has given her a bad shock …’ That sounded all right, anyway. ‘She must be feeling rather fragile at the moment. So you see, even if we think it might be just routine, Diana has taken it very seriously. It might, well, upset her balance.’

  A long silence.

  ‘Bill, are you still there?’

  ‘Yes.’ A sigh. ‘Jimbo’s case was different, because he’d got a spotty past. A totally innocent person – the police might think – doesn’t need a solicitor.’

  ‘No, but a foolish one might. I do think Diana is in a fragile emotional state and she has been very foolish. She’s uttered threats against Aunt Drusilla.’

  ‘She’s done what?’

  Silence on Ellie’s part. Stewart appeared in the doorway, carrying Frank. Stewart was continuing to look anxious.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ellie, quietly. ‘She did. The police could make out a case that she intended to give Aunt Drusilla a shock, though not of course to kill her.’

  ‘So that’s what you’re afraid of? If you send me down there, the police will realize that you think she’s guilty. If she did it, she’s facing a manslaughter charge, Ellie.’

  ‘Oh, she didn’t do it. Of course she didn’t. But she’s so volatile at the moment, she might do or say something to rouse their suspicions.’

  ‘You do think she’s guilty, don’t you?’

  Ellie didn’t reply.

  Stewart said, ‘Can I have a word with him?’

  Ellie took Frank off Stewart and returned to the kitchen, where she popped him into his high chair and dished up his food. He plunged both hands enthusiastically into the tomatoey mess …

  Oh, her best blue suit!

  She would have to change before she went on to the wedding reception. If she ever managed to get there. She persuaded Frank to eat with a spoon plus his fingers – he seemed to have decided that fingers were best, after some months of using a spoon alone. She gave him a drink. He threw it on the floor. She picked it up, washed it out, gave him some more. Mopped up the mess. He hit her on the back of her head with his spoon. With more tomato on it. Whatever had persuaded her to give him something with tomato in it? She peeled a banana for him. He liked bananas.

  He threw that on the floor, too. He lunged sideways, yelling, ‘No!’

  Why was ‘No!’ the first word they ever mastered? Was it because it was always being said to them? Don’t do this, don’t do that. No!

  Stewart came back to the kitchen and sat. Heavily. ‘Well, he’ll go down there. It’s against his better judgement, but he’ll go. I said she was in such a state that she might lose her temper and say the first thing that came into her head. Even admit something that’s not true.’

  ‘You think she’s guilty, as well.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ His eyelids flickered. He wasn’t a good liar. He doubted Diana as much as Ellie did. She held her hand out over the table and he closed his own hand around hers. For a count of ten, Frank ceased to pound on his chair and yell. He was watching a sunbeam tremble on the wall opposite. Ellie used those moments to pray for Diana and Stewart. Stewart had closed his eyes. Perhaps he was praying, too. Then he took his hand away and passed it over his face.

  ‘I said I’d meet him down there. She asked for me, so I’d better go. Can you cope with Frank this afternoon?’

  She wanted to say that she couldn’t, but of course she could. She wanted to go upstairs, strip, have a shower and fall on her bed for a nap so as to be fresh for the dance tonight.

  Instead she must clean herself up as best she might – Frank, too – and get them both to the wedding reception. Return home, organize supper for Aunt Drusilla and then get ready for the Dance.

  ‘Of course I can,’ she said. ‘Will you let me know what’s happening? I promised to go to the Golf Club Dance this evening with Bill.’

  ‘I’ve got tickets for that, too. Somewhere. Diana bought herself a new dress for it, and we arranged for a babysitter, but …’ He
shrugged. ‘Could you remember to keep your mobile switched on? Then I can ring you as soon as we know what’s happening.’

  He went off, with little Frank waving him goodbye. ‘Dadda?’ yelled Frank. And then, to Ellie, ‘Mumma? Mumma come soon?’

  ‘Yes, darling. Of course she will. Now we’ve got to clean up the kitchen and have a nice walk in the sunshine, go to see the seagulls on the river. Won’t that be nice?’ She lifted him out of the high chair and set him on the floor.

  ‘Want Mumma,’ said Frank, hitting her on her leg. Oh dear. And if she put him back in his pushchair while she washed and changed, he’d yell blue murder.

  ‘A little sleepy-byes?’ she suggested.

  ‘No!’ He charged at the coffee table in his railway-engine mode. ‘Choochoo-choo! Bang! Crash!’ Over went the table again, plant pots and all. He then looked at her with a wicked, ‘that’ll larn you’ grin.

  Ellie was torn between bursting into tears and giving him a good smack. She had heard that grannies in this situation normally put a video on to soothe the child. Well, she hadn’t got a video, but perhaps it was time she acquired one. She picked little Frank up and carried him up the stairs. He yelled all the way. She dumped him on the stool in the bathroom and proceeded to get him comparatively clean and tidy, in spite of his yells and squirms. Then she laid him on his bed in the small room, closing the door on his bellows of fury, hoping Kate and Armand were out and wouldn’t be disturbed by the noise.

  She had a hurried shower, washed her hair, put on one of the outfits she’d bought yesterday, decided not to wear a hat, and called for a cab.

  Frank was mercifully silent.

  Oh. It wasn’t good news when toddlers were that quiet. What was he up to? More mischief?

  No. Relief. He was flat on his back on his bed, arms flung above his head, long eyelashes fanning out on red cheeks, the whole of that energetic little body relaxed in sleep. The little cherub! He was quite edible when he was asleep and she loved him dearly.

  She tiptoed down the stairs and telephoned Kate next door. Armand answered the phone.

  ‘Hi, Ellie.Yes, Miss Quicke’s here, been here for hours. We’re just about to have a spot of lunch. Want to join us?’

  ‘No, no. I just wanted to make sure my aunt was with you safe and sound. I’m taking Frank off to the wedding reception, back in a couple of hours, I suppose.Tell my aunt … no, not to bother. I’ll see her this evening.’

  The cab arrived and she loaded Frank’s pushchair into it. Then she carefully carried the sleeping little boy down and held him in her arms all the way to Bill’s house.

  Fifteen

  It was the perfect setting for a wedding reception. The sun was out, the tide was up and gulls swooped everywhere. The garden sparkled with spring flowers, the women floated around in their light-coloured clothes

  – except for the few who insisted on wearing black even for a wedding. The men mingled, the waiters and waitresses served and poured wine. Joyce and her new husband were the centre of attention, which was where Joyce liked to be. Dear Rose had discarded her hat; a good idea. She looked much better without it. Dear Rose had had perhaps a little too much to drink, but was so pleased to see Ellie.

  ‘Because you know, my dear, I had to speak to one of the waitresses rather sharply a moment ago and it was most unpleasant, and I couldn’t help thinking that you’d have done it so much better than me. You never upset people when you tell them off, but I’m always too much one way or the other.’

  Ellie smiled and smiled, and apologized to the bride and groom for being late – a little family upset. Her apologies were graciously accepted, though with the distinct subtext that Joyce would have managed much better and been on time, too.

  Frank woke up when they arrived and declined to be bundled back into his pushchair, so Ellie led him around – or rather he led her around. She encouraged him to throw some oddments of leftover canapes to the gulls. He threw scraps a yard and screamed with joy when the gulls came close to retrieve them. Joyce frowned. She really did not want children taking the limelight off her on her wedding day.

  Tough! Thought Ellie. I didn’t want to bring him, either. Oh, Diana! She checked that her mobile was switched on, which it was.

  Roy was doing his duty by Rose, shepherding her around, making sure the drink and food flowed in the right places. He looked good in a morning suit. Ellie felt proud of him and when he looked her way, she blew him a kiss, to which he replied with another. Ellie noticed he’d also got his eye on a mega-thin blonde in an executive-style suit which proclaimed her a career woman. She wore heavy rings on the third finger of her right hand, but none on her left. Divorced?

  Mrs Dawes loomed at Ellie’s shoulder. ‘That’s a cousin of Joyce’s that he’s making eyes at. Drives one of those cars which you can’t get into without difficulty, low down on the road, you know? Something in marketing. What do you make of that, eh?’

  Mrs Dawes wanted to see if Ellie would react on seeing Roy pay attention to another woman, and indeed she did feel a pang – but only a small one – of jealousy. She smiled. ‘I’m really pleased for him.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Mrs Dawes, disconcerted. ‘Have you seen the flower decorations in the drawing room? Someone had the nerve to tell me that I should have put some colour into them. What do they know about it, eh? Tell me what you think.’

  Ellie managed to persuade Frank to follow her into the drawing room, where there might be some nice little sweeties for him to eat, and duly admired the all-white flower arrangements.‘No, Mrs Dawes, they’re perfect as they are. Virginal.’

  ‘Hnh! Not that she is!’ said Mrs Dawes. A remark which Ellie pretended not to hear.

  Frank had found a tray of canapes on a side table but just as he was about to cram some smoked salmon into his mouth, a waitress swooped on him and struck it out of his hand. ‘Not for you!’

  Ellie wasn’t sure whether to agree or be angry at her interference.

  Frank bellowed his irritation at being deprived of his titbit, so Ellie said to the girl, ‘Can you find something he can eat?’

  ‘Egg do you?’

  With reluctance and great put-upon sighs, the girl sorted out a couple of tiny sandwiches and put them on a plate for Frank, who promptly collapsed himself on to the floor and got stuck in.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ellie, wondering where she’d seen the girl before. Because she had seen her before, she was sure of it.

  The girl stalked off. She had stout legs and rolled in her walk, which rang a bell somewhere with Ellie. The girl – no, she was not a girl, she was probably in her late twenties, maybe early thirties – was a bit of a lump, really. Her black skirt was too cheap, too short, the black tights laddered. The white top was not as clean as it might be and certainly hadn’t seen an iron recently.

  The other waitresses were all looking very smart and well groomed, with shining hair pinned back or kept short, immaculate white blouses and unwrinkled black skirts. This one girl stood out from the rest. Perhaps she wasn’t one of their regulars.

  Well, it didn’t matter, did it? What did matter was that Stewart hadn’t rung yet. She checked her mobile phone but it was still on, and still unresponsive.

  There weren’t many people inside the house. Most were standing around in the garden, thrilled to be out in the sunshine, ignoring the chilly breeze. The Reverend Gilbert Adams was there, of course, having taken the wedding ceremony. He was talking animatedly to a group of old friends from the church. Tum-Tum was also there … she really must not call him Tum-Tum, even to herself. Thomas. The new vicar was called Thomas, and the church was also called St Thomas’, so she ought to be able to remember it.

  Rose was listening to that sour cousin of hers complain about something. Roy had drawn the blonde down to the river’s edge to admire the seagulls. Or to admire her?

  Frank hauled himself to his feet and made for the three-tiered wedding cake in the bay window. What he’d do to that if he got his hands on it, Ellie dreade
d to think. She picked him up and sought for a tray of sandwiches to keep his mouth filled. He objected. He wanted to get down, have a bash at the cake. If he got his hands on the white cloth under the wedding cake, he could easily pull it all off and bring the cake smashing to the carpet. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  A waiter rushed in, calling for ‘Tracy’ to take out some more champagne. The lumpish girl obliged, very very slowly.

  Tracy, thought Ellie. I know that name. I have seen the girl somewhere before. Yes, she’d seen her outside Aunt Drusilla’s house the day after the accident, and possibly working at Aunt Drusilla’s before that, too? Someone called Tracy wrote to my aunt. Aunt Drusilla tore the letter up and I rescued it from the waste-paper basket.

  Well, what of it?

  The caterers probably called on a wide variety of people to service their contracts. This Tracy was a cleaner who’d once worked for Aunt Drusilla and now picked up the odd afternoon’s wages working for the caterer. And why not?

  She carried Frank out into the garden again. He protested, but was charmed by the Reverend Gilbert Adams coming over and tickling him. ‘Well, little man? How you’ve grown.’

  Banal words, but Gilbert exuded pleasure at the sight of Frank and Frank responded, reaching out to clutch at the pen in Gilbert’s top pocket.

  ‘No, you don’t, you little terror,’ said Gilbert.‘And how is your grandmother today? Looking very well, if I may say so. What happened to you last night? Liz and I wanted to talk to you about …’

  ‘Oh, there you are, vicar.’ This was Jean from the choir, giving Ellie a look of dislike, preparing to take Gilbert away. Gilbert tried to adhere to Ellie, who’d always been a favourite of his.

  ‘Jean, lovely to see all my old friends again. The choir was in good voice, too.’

  ‘I want you to meet …’ Gilbert was dragged away, calling back that he’d ring Ellie.

  Tum-Tum materialized at Ellie’s side. Frank took one look at him, and decided he didn’t like him, so twisted right round in Ellie’s arms and pretended he was invisible. Tum-Tum seemed amused rather than annoyed at this.