Murder By Accident

by Veronica Heley

‘I really cannot be responsible for the way such women’s minds work,’ said Aunt Drusilla magnificently. ‘So what are we having for a sweet, Ellie?’

  ***

  After supper Ellie rang Rose again. Then she rang the engineers, who reported that there was a fault on the line and they’d look into it. Roy was pacing up and down, driving Aunt Drusilla crazy. Aunt Drusilla liked to have a quiet time after supper to digest her food and the business section of the Sunday paper.

  Ellie washed up and tidied the kitchen. Roy didn’t offer to help, but came in to perch on the kitchen table and generally get in the way.

  ‘You think this Tracy person had something to do with the wiring? But how could she have got at the kettle here in your kitchen? She can’t have.’

  ‘I don’t know. But it seems to me that the two events are connected, not least because the person who did it didn’t seem to care who got the shock. Aunt Drusilla, Rose or Mo Tucker at the big house. Any of us, in my kitchen. I can’t work it out.’

  ‘You’re worried about Rose, I can see that. Suppose I take you round there, set our minds at rest. Bring her back here with us if you like.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. But first I need to speak to Maria.’

  ‘Who’s Maria?’

  ‘The girl who was with Stewart last night. She runs the agency which supplied Aunt Drusilla with domestic help. None of this makes sense unless there’s some kind of connection between Tracy and Mo Tucker.’

  ‘She’s a looker, that Maria,’ said Roy, meditatively.

  ‘Not your style,’ said Ellie, with a sharp look.

  ‘As if you cared.’

  ‘I don’t want to see you making a bad mistake.’

  ‘What about that Helen then? She was a looker too.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘You’re winding me up. She’s not your style, either.’

  ‘So what’s my style, Ellie Quicke … if it’s not you?’

  ‘I don’t know, Roy. I really don’t. Now if you could take me round to Stewart’s place, I think Maria may be there.’

  Maria was there. Maria was cooking supper, with an apron on. Stewart was bathing little Frank and a great deal of laughter was coming from all three. Roy followed Ellie into the flat, which seemed to have undergone a sea change since Ellie was last there. Then it had had a cold and comfortless air, with junk-food containers lying around.

  A bunch of daffodils was on the table in a blue jug. A bottle of wine had been uncorked and left to breathe, and both the cutlery and the glassware shone. The furniture had been slightly rearranged, but to good effect. The curtains were drawn against the night, and a delicious scent of roast chicken drifted from the kitchen, while the radio played something lively in the background.

  Roy muttered, ‘How unlike the home life of our own dear Diana.’ Stewart appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. He was in his shirtsleeves, with his hair tousled. There was colour in his cheeks and he looked relaxed and very much at ease. He was carrying little Frank wrapped up in a big towel. Frank was crowing along to some song he alone knew.

  Maria smiled a welcome to Ellie and Roy. Her smile became even warmer, though, when she looked at Stewart. She tucked the towel more firmly around little Frank, and retreated into the kitchen.

  ‘Have you been trying to contact me? We’ve been out all day,’ said Stewart, vigorously rubbing Frank dry.

  Roy said, ‘They’ve charged Diana with manslaughter.’

  ‘I’m sorry for it,’ said Stewart, not pausing in his job. ‘But she’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything more to do with me.’

  ‘We know that,’ said Ellie. ‘We won’t keep you a minute. I just wanted a quick word with Maria.’

  Stewart immediately looked belligerent. ‘Maria has nothing to do with all that.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ soothed Ellie.‘Just a quick word about one of her cleaners, that’s all.’

  Ellie side-stepped Roy – who was standing in the way as usual – and went into the kitchen, where Maria was busying herself at the stove. Maria had overheard.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Was there a connection between the girl Tracy, and Mo Tucker?’

  Maria frowned, stirring away. ‘They didn’t like one another, I know that. Someone said … I can’t be sure about this, but I think I heard someone say they were related. Aunt and niece? Half-sisters?’

  ‘They both live in the high-rise flats on the other side of the Avenue?’

  ‘Yes, but not in the same block, if I remember rightly. Most of our cleaners come from there, or from the hostels.’

  ‘As does Rose.’

  ‘Rose?’ Maria didn’t know the name.

  ‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’

  Maria put down her spoon and turned to face Ellie. ‘I hope you don’t mind my being here with Stewart?’

  ‘You’re old enough to know your own business.’

  Maria pulled a face. ‘That’s pretty cold.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry. I can see you’re good for Stewart. Perhaps I just wish that … Diana is my only child, and I know that she’s not been happy with Stewart for some time, but … no. I wish you well.’

  ‘Thank you. I will take good care of him, and of the child.’

  ‘On to Rose’s?’ asked Roy as they returned to the car.

  ‘Mmm. I notice you’ve been looking at your watch. Are you due

  somewhere else?’

  ‘Well, I half promised to see some people I met at the golf club for a

  drink, but …’

  The habit of a lifetime kicked in, and Ellie immediately put her own

  plans on the back burner. Oh well. Tomorrow would do. ‘Drop me off back

  home, then. I want to ask Armand something. I expect Rose will be back

  on the phone by now.’

  Roy duly dropped Ellie off at her house. She went indoors to make sure that Aunt Drusilla was all right – she was – and to check if Rose’s phone was back on – it wasn’t. But then, you’d hardly expect telephone

  engineers to work hard on a Sunday.

  Rose would be all right. Of course she would.

  In the meantime Armand – who taught at the High School – would be

  able to tell her something about vandalism and boys being excluded

  from school. He and Kate were stretched out on recliners sharing a bottle

  of wine and watching something mindless on the television. They were

  glad to see her, they said, because they’d finally settled – well, Kate had

  settled – on the new tiles for the conservatory and wanted her opinion of

  them.

  Which meant that Armand hated the sight of them, but was giving in

  more or less gracefully.

  Ellie looked at the samples, which were in a black and white geometric

  design and said, ‘Very interesting.’

  Kate threw up her arms in despair and Armand crowed. ‘You see? I told

  you they were duds.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘What was Armand’s choice?’

  Armand dug out some warm terracotta tiles with a faintly orange random

  pattern on them. Ellie said, ‘These would be perfect for an outdoor dining

  room, wouldn’t they? Warm enough in winter, and remind you of the

  Mediterranean in the summer?’

  ‘All right, you win,’ said Kate, and gave Armand a hug to prove that she

  still loved him even though he’d won that particular fight.

  Foxy-faced Armand tried to hide his pleasure. ‘So what can we do for

  you, Ellie, now that you’ve saved our marriage yet again?’ ‘Tell me about aggressive parents of young teenage boys who’ve

  been excluded from school, and vandalism.’

  ‘You want a doctoral thesis, or generalized gossip?’

  Ellie picked her words with care. ‘One of my aunt’s cleaners, someone

  she’s sacked recently, wanted to be her live-in car
er. She tried on a sob

  story that her boy had been excluded from school.’

  ‘What’s she like? Describe her appearance.’

  ‘Lumpy.Thirtyish. Overweight. Clothes, hair and skin ill cared for. Manner,

  aggressive. Of limited intelligence and education, I would say. As a cleaner

  Aunt Drusilla said she banged about, scarred the furniture. I think she

  tried to steal money and my mobile from my handbag when she was

  wait-ressing at the wedding reception, but I couldn’t prove it so I didn’t

  make a fuss.’

  ‘Overweight and belligerent, of limited intelligence … you’re describing

  the type of parent who’s the bane of all teachers. Most parents are

  delightful, but there’s just one or two who encourage their children to flout the rules. They drop litter in the streets, shout insults at anyone who gets in their way. They think it’s clever to avoid paying fares on buses, and to elbow their way to the front of queues at checkouts. They take any attempt to discipline their children as a personal attack on themselves and have even been known to break into the lessons to attack teachers

  … sometimes even physically.’

  Kate stroked Armand’s cheek. ‘But not yours, my darling.’ ‘Grrr. I should think not. But others …’He leaned forward to tap Ellie’s

  knee. ‘There was a fine teacher I knew, twenty years experience, she

  was verbally abused and shoved about in front of her own class by a

  woman such as you describe. That teacher is sitting at home now in

  tears, had a complete breakdown, will never be able to face a class

  again. Another excellent teacher resigned because a fifteen-year-old

  stabbed her in the arm with a knife. Why? Because she’d pushed through

  a door ahead of him. And what happened to the aggressors? A slap on

  the wrist, that’s all.’

  Kate was less emotional, more detached. ‘They think it’s partly the diet,

  the additives in the junk food they eat, which makes them aggressive.

  Both parents and children. It’s true that the type of woman you describe

  probably eats nothing but junk food.’

  Armand glared at her. ‘Now you’ll tell me that that fifteen-year-old was

  not responsible for his actions.’

  ‘The courts say that the children who act like that are not yet capable of

  telling right from wrong. I think they’re wrong, but that’s what the Law

  says. Ellie, is this something to do with the murder? We saw Diana going

  off with the police this morning.’

  ‘Yes, she’s been arrested and charged. She says it would never have

  occurred to her to fiddle with the wiring at Aunt Drusilla’s, and I believe

  her. The more I think about it, the odder the whole thing appears. It seems

  such an inefficient way of killing someone. How could you be absolutely

  sure you’d get the right person? I’ve been trying to think myself into the

  mind of whoever did it, and it seemed to me that they didn’t care whether

  they killed Aunt Drusilla, or Rose. Or anyone else – like Mo Tucker – who

  might accidentally handle the aerial.

  ‘I’ve been over and over in my mind all the people who had a financial

  motive for killing or even giving Aunt Drusilla a shock, and I’m not

  convinced that any of them did it. As for killing Rose, who’d want to do

  that? Except that Aunt Drusilla told me today that her cleaner Tracy tried

  to trip Rose up as she came down the stairs. But that’s so trivial, isn’t it?

  It felt like, well, like spite. Sort of, “I know I’m getting the sack, so I’m going

  to get my own back on you, Rose, because you’re staying and I’m being

  pushed out.”

  ‘Then I remembered that Tracy wanted to move in with her son as Aunt

  Drusilla’s carer, and had even gone to the lengths of writing her a letter to

  that effect. Her son had recently been excluded from school but that was

  all the school’s fault, she said. And I think – though I’d like to check this

  out – that there was bad blood between Tracy and Mo Tucker. They may

  even have been related in some way.’

  Kate frowned. ‘You think this woman always lays the blame on others?

  You think she resented Miss Quicke sacking her, and resented Rose and

  Mo Tucker for replacing her, so rigged the aerial to give any one of them

  a bad shock? She didn’t intend to kill, only to give one of them a shock?

  I must say, I like it.’

  ‘It explains the random nature of the incident,’ said Armand. Ellie said, ‘Then my kettle was sabotaged when Rose and Aunt Drusilla

  were staying with me. Any one of us could have switched it on and got a

  bad shock, perhaps even been killed. Again, it didn’t seem to matter who

  got the shock. Doesn’t that fit the bill, too?’

  ‘Random spite,’ said Armand. ‘I see why you asked about vandalism.

  Yes, I think it’s all part of the same mindset. “I want to lash out at the

  school for trying to correct my son, I want to lash out at society because

  my life’s a mess, and to hurt anyone who gets in my way.” She probably

  smokes and drinks to excess and spends all her spare money on lottery

  tickets.’

  Ellie said, ‘I have to hang on to the idea that she didn’t intend to kill,

  only to give people a shock. Mo Tucker didn’t die because of the shock,

  but because she had a bad heart.’

  ‘Does this woman have the know-how to fiddle with wiring?’ asked

  Kate.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t even know where she lives exactly. I have the

  number of her flat, but I don’t know which block she lives in. What I do

  have is the address for Mo’s father and her live-in boyfriend, Norm.

  I thought perhaps they might be able to fill me in with some details about

  Mo and Tracy. And tomorrow when I see Rose – her phone’s out of order

  – I’ll get her to tell me what she knows about Tracy.’

  Armand looked grave. ‘Rose’s phone is out of order, Rose is a target

  for spite – and Rose has gone back to her flat in that sink estate?’ Kate said, ‘Ouch. It’s giving me the heeby-jeebies even to think about

  it.’

  Ellie glanced at her watch. ‘It’s late and it’s dark. I admit I’m worried

  about her. Roy was going to take me over there but he had something

  else on. I really don’t fancy going by myself but have I got enough to

  justify going to the police?’

  ‘I’ll take you,’ said Armand. ‘I know how to deal with those yobs over

  there. Heaven knows I’ve enough of them in my class at the moment.’ ‘We’ll both go, Armand,’ said Kate. ‘I don’t want you getting into any

  fights behind my back. We’ll take our mobile phones and ring the police

  if there’s any trouble.’

  It was a cold, wet night. The windscreen wipers on Armand’s car creaked as they swung to and fro. His heater was inefficient. Ellie wished she’d thought to bring gloves and a scarf with her. March could be such a chilly month.

  The three tower blocks had been built on what had once been an industrial estate near the river and were reached by a slip road off the bus route. There were wide car-parking spaces around each of the tower blocks, with a high percentage of wrecked and burned-out cars. The ground-floor apartments were mostly boarded up. Graffiti ruled OK.

  ‘Rose lives in the second block on the right,’ said Ellie, peering out of her window. ‘You can park anywhere, but I suggest
you stay in the car and keep the engine running to keep the heater going. I shouldn’t be long, provided the lift’s working. Rose lives on the sixth floor.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Kate. ‘You don’t want to go up there on your own.’

  The rain slackened off as they reached the doorway. Four hulking teenagers were sharing cigarettes in the foyer, and stared at them as they walked in and tried the lift button. The foyer smelled of urine and cigarettes. Ellie felt four pairs of eyes on her and wished she’d left her handbag behind. Kate wasn’t carrying one, wise girl.

  The lift came – to their relief – and they piled in and took it up to the sixth floor. The lift also smelled bad. Ellie tried to breathe shallowly.

  ‘Along here.’ Ellie led the way. One of the lights along the walkway had been smashed, so it was difficult to see which door belonged to Rose’s flat. As usual the thump-thump and high-pitched monotonous sound of rap music permeated the corridor. They found Rose’s door at last. The doorbell didn’t work. At least, they assumed it didn’t because they could hardly hear anything above the music from the next-door flat.

  Kate mimed to Ellie that she’d gone deaf. Ellie nodded. Dear Rose had not been exaggerating when she complained of the noise.

  Kate lifted the letter flap and looked inside. Kate put her mouth to Ellie’s ear.

  ‘No lights on. She must be out. Perhaps she’s gone back to your house while we’ve been on our way here.’

  It seemed reasonable. Ellie nodded and they turned to go back the way they’d come. Three of the four lads they’d seen downstairs now blocked their path. They didn’t speak and when the two women threaded their way between them, they didn’t react. But all three turned their heads and watched as Ellie and Kate got back into the lift and closed the doors.

  ‘Nasty!’ Kate laughed, partly in relief. ‘I’m actually trembling.’

  ‘Me, too. How Rose can put up with it I don’t know!’

  ‘I expect she’s known them from birth and they wouldn’t bother her.’

  ‘I know the music bothers her, though. The sooner she’s out of there, the better.’

  The night air, though damp, came as a blessing on their faces. Armand was sitting in the car, hunched up, scowling. Two more lads had joined the fourth member of the original gang. They had their hoods up over their heads, and their hands in the pockets of their joggers. One played around with a skateboard. All were on the large side.