Murder by Suggestion

by Veronica Heley

And then there were two: Rafael and Ellie, working together to dispose of the supper things.

  Susan came down to say she’d settled Kat in her spare room, poor thing, and would have an early night herself. Ellie clattered saucepans into the sink while Susan had a murmured conversation and exchanged a few kisses with Rafael. Then Susan, too, left.

  Midge the cat reappeared now the house was quiet, and Ellie fed him. She glanced at the clock and yawned.

  Rafael said, ‘Can you find me a duvet and a pillow, Mrs Quicke? I’ll sleep on the settee in the sitting room, if you don’t mind.’

  Ellie’s mind went to Full Alert. ‘Surely there’s no need for that.’

  ‘Alibis, Mrs Q. Too many dodgy deaths. What’s next? I ask myself. Poison, drowning or fire?’

  Ellie felt rather faint. ‘You really think there’s going to be another death?’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No, surely not.’

  ‘Someone tried to frame these women for murder, right?’

  ‘Someone took advantage of their silly game to get rid of them, that’s all.’

  ‘Where would the finger of blame be pointed if the police decided that one or more of the husbands had died in suspicious circumstances? At their wives.’

  ‘Well, yes. Always supposing that the deaths are going to be regarded as suspicious, which is not yet the case. Fortunately they’ve all got alibis for this afternoon when Walt died.’

  Rafael didn’t point it out, but they both knew that Diana hadn’t any such alibi. Instead, he said, ‘Another thing: these women are vulnerable, homeless and without a man to stand up for them. They joked about killing their husbands, and the joke has turned sour. Once the men discovered the emails, they threw their wives out, which indicates to me that these particular husbands didn’t have much of a sense of humour about their wives’ “jokes”. Instead of laughing, they reacted with anger. Even with violence in Trish’s case. I’m wondering just how far their fear may drive them to go. I wouldn’t want any of them trying to harass their wives further when the situation is so … Shall we say, fluid?’

  Ellie translated this in her head, and gasped. ‘You think one or more of the husbands might believe that Russet was responsible for Walt’s death and take it out on her? No! Surely not. Anyway, would the men even have heard about it by now?’

  Rafael was reason itself. ‘The gardener saw the body and summoned an ambulance. The neighbour saw the body, the ambulance and the police. Don’t tell me the neighbourhood isn’t seething with speculation by now. Don’t tell me someone hasn’t phoned the remaining husbands. And what action are they going to take? Are they going to sit on their behinds and wait to be poisoned, drowned or set on fire? No, of course not. They will take action in some way.’

  Ellie looked wildly around. Were all the ground-floor doors locked and the windows ditto? ‘I suppose the men might get together and talk it over.’

  ‘Take it from me, they’ll be worrying which of them is going to die next.’

  ‘You think Diana’s husband, or Kat’s husband – Rupert the skinflint – or the wife-beating Terry might come looking for Russet here? I think, I hope he doesn’t …’

  ‘I think, I hope, they don’t. But, with everyone having mobile phones nowadays, always texting and keeping in touch, I wouldn’t like to bet that they don’t. For a start, when Russet’s nosey neighbour and her gardener spoke to her on the phone, they would have asked where she was, and she would have told them. And why shouldn’t she? If she told them, she might as well have told the whole world.’

  Yes, the neighbour probably had told the whole world, and one of her gossips would think it only right to phone whichever of the other husbands they knew. Oh dear.

  Ellie told herself not to panic. ‘No, no. I’m sure you’re exaggerating. It’s far more likely that the men would take their suspicions to the police and we can assure the police that Russet never left this house.’

  ‘I think we should make sure she doesn’t go out tonight, too. Perhaps I’m being overcautious, Mrs Quicke, but I do think it would be a good idea for someone to sleep downstairs tonight, just in case one of our guests fancied a midnight walk outside, or a stranger came knocking on the door asking to speak to them. The women have alibis for this afternoon. Let’s make sure they maintain them tonight. And, it had better be me who sleeps downstairs because Thomas looks tired.’

  Ellie had noticed that Thomas was flagging, too. Rafael didn’t miss much, did he?

  ‘All right. You have a key to the front door, as has Susan. So have I, and so does Thomas. Diana has one, too, but no one else. We can double lock the front door, so that would make it difficult for anyone to get in or out easily. We can shoot the bolts home. They’re a bit high up for me, so could you attend to that?’

  Rafael didn’t say it, but they both understood that if Diana wanted to leave the house, he’d be there to prevent her doing so, if he could.

  Ellie found Rafael a duvet and a pillow and made up a bed for him on the big settee downstairs. Then she followed Midge the cat upstairs, leaving the lights on in the hall. Sleep didn’t come quickly. She tossed and turned. It was ages before she heard Barbie come up and walk along the corridor to her room.

  Finally Thomas came in. ‘What’s Rafael doing, sleeping in the sitting room?’

  ‘Acting as our guardian angel.’

  Thomas was amused by that. He shucked off his clothes, threw them roughly in the direction of a chair, padded into the bathroom for a lick and a promise and returned, smelling of good soap. He removed Midge the cat from his side of the bed to a chair and slid in beside Ellie.

  Ellie found it irritating that Thomas could never tell her what had transpired in his private conversations with people like Barbie who went to him for help. After all, as his wife she told him everything – or almost everything – that happened to her. She did understand, though, that he couldn’t betray a confidence, and one thing she could do was to check that he was at peace afterwards.

  ‘Good?’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ he replied, as they made themselves comfortable. She spared a thought for the discarded wives who tonight would sleep alone. How very fortunate she was to have Thomas! He switched off the bedside light as the chiming clock in the hall told the household that it was now midnight.

  Minus five minutes. It’s running slow. I hope Rafael can sleep through it, or not sleep, if … Dear Lord, look after us all this night. This house feels like sanctuary, so many distressed souls under this roof, with two strong angels to watch over us. At least, they’re not really angels. They’re make-believe angels. No, that’s wrong. There’s nothing make-believe about either Rafael or Thomas. Well, you know what I mean, Lord …

  Tuesday, breakfast time.

  A misty morning promising another warm day, possibly without rain for once.

  Ellie lay in bed, watching the second hand of the clock edge its way towards the moment when the alarm would go off. Midge and Thomas had disappeared some time ago. Thomas would be in his Quiet Room saying his office, and the cat would be out, making sure his territory was secure against invaders.

  It seemed to Ellie that the house was quiet with the expectant silence you can sense before a storm. In a moment of fancy, she imagined her home holding everyone in its walls safe and sound, while waiting for the enemy troops to come storming along the road.

  What nonsense! She slapped the alarm off and forced herself to get out of bed. On the top floor, a toilet flushed and a shower began. Susan, getting ready for the day. In these old houses, the plumbing grumbled and sometimes clanged as different parts of the system came into use, which reminded Ellie that the shower in the end bathroom on this floor could be slow and needed to be checked. She hoped Barbie and Russet managed to use it without any trouble. Oh, and was there enough cereal to feed everyone for breakfast?

  She ought to spend some time on her knees asking God to look after them all that day, but … No, she mustn’t panic. Doors were opening along
the corridor. She must get downstairs as fast as she could to look after her guests. She dragged a brush through her silvery hair, knocked over her lipstick and let it lie. Slipped into some shoes.

  Dear Lord, you know I must be busy this day. If I forget you, please don’t forget me. The old warrior who wrote those words knew a thing or two about prayer when he’d got a busy day ahead of him. Of course, he was going into a real battle. Was it the battle of Worcester? She couldn’t remember. Anyway, the present situation felt like war, too.

  Someone rang the doorbell. Who could it be, so early in the morning? A car horn tooted. What was that? Dogs barking? Ellie hurried out of the bedroom and made it down the stairs a step or two ahead of Susan to find Thomas unbolting the door while Rafael, fully dressed, cradled an alarmed cat in his arms. Yes, it really was dogs barking.

  Dogs barking? Whose dogs? Surely not Trish and Terry’s dogs?

  Thomas tried to pull back the catch on the door to open it. Ellie cried out, ‘Stop, Thomas! I’m not sure it’s a good idea to open it till we find out who’s there. The door’s double-locked, anyway. Let me find my key.’

  Before she could search for her handbag, Thomas produced his own key and set it in the lock but didn’t turn it. ‘You think you know who’s there?’

  Trish appeared on the landing above, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Her jaw was green and black, and she was visibly trembling. ‘That’s Terry’s dogs. I’d know their bark anywhere. What does he want? He shouldn’t have come here. I’d better go out to him, hadn’t I?’

  The doorbell rang again. Strongly, indicating impatience.

  ‘No!’ Barbie came to Trish’s side, shrugging herself into a housecoat. She wasn’t wearing much underneath. Barbie had a lithe, well-cared-for, sleek body. She’d brushed her hair out but had not yet made up her face. No eyebrows, but good bone structure. Even without make-up she was a handsome woman.

  Barbie said, ‘Remember what we agreed, Trish. He’s got to learn to respect you.’

  Trish was conflicted. ‘If he’s really sorry …’

  Barbie put her arm around Trish. ‘He won’t respect you if you go back to him too quickly. Agree to see him in a few days’ time.’

  Ellie said to Thomas and Rafael, ‘If it is Terry, how did he know where Trish was to be found?’

  Thomas stroked his beard. ‘I’ll go out and talk to him, shall I?’

  Russet appeared, a towel around freshly washed hair. ‘What’s happened? Is it Terry’s prize pooches out there making a racket?’

  Someone pounded on the door. Thomas looked at Ellie. ‘Do I let him in?’

  Rafael said, ‘There’s two of us to one of him,’ and put the cat down. Midge streaked for the kitchen quarters. He didn’t intend to hang around if dogs were going to be let into the hall.

  Ellie nodded to Thomas. ‘Let him into the hall but only so far. Trish, you stay up there with Barbie.’

  Thomas slowly and carefully opened the front door a foot or so and stood in the doorway. Thomas was very solid. He didn’t shift more than an inch as a man drove into him and rebounded.

  ‘How dare you! You! Lout! Stand aside. Out of my way!’ Two dogs raised their voices in concert.

  Through the half-open door, Ellie could see a well-built man in his forties, with thinning, wiry dark hair and a high colour. He was dressed in good casual wear, with two dogs’ leads around his wrist. The dogs were beauties, silver-grey in colour. They were big dogs, satin-skinned and intelligent. Weimaraners? They snuffled and yapped around Terry’s feet.

  Thomas folded his arms. ‘This is my house. Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing here?’

  Rafael stepped up to Thomas’s shoulder, taking out his mobile phone. ‘Shall I ring the police?’

  The intruder said, ‘Where is she? You have no right to obstruct me in searching for my wife. Produce her now! Or else!’

  ‘Or else … what?’ said Thomas.

  Rafael said, ‘I have the police number on speed dial.’

  ‘What do you want the police for?’ The voice climbed down an octave. ‘There’s no need for police. I just want to see my wife, to make sure she’s all right. She got some bee in her bonnet, quite ridiculous, and took herself off in a huff. Now she’s had a chance to calm down, I’ve come to take her home.’

  ‘What makes you think she’s here?’

  ‘I rang her parents and they told me she was staying here overnight.’ Yes, he was calming down now. ‘Would you kindly tell her I’m here?’

  Yes, of course, Trish had rung her parents and told them where she was. Why wouldn’t she? Did that mean the other men knew where their wives had gone as well? Well, was there any harm in that?

  Thomas was calmness itself. ‘What do you want to see her for?’

  ‘So she is here! I couldn’t think why …’ He turned away and there was the sound of a slap. ‘Shut up! Shut up!’ A dog whined. Another yelped.

  He’d hit them? How could he!

  Terry returned to the charge. ‘Is she here? I have a right to know.’ Then, in a softer tone, ‘We had words yesterday. I may have said things … She took them the wrong way. You understand that I need to see her, to make sure she’s all right.’

  ‘Oh!’ Trish tried to move towards the stairs, but Barbie held her back.

  Terry had heard that. ‘She is here, then? You’re holding her against her will?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Thomas. ‘She took refuge here after you threw her out—’

  ‘That was a mistake. I was told … You’ve no idea of the stress I’ve been under, and then she attacked me! You didn’t know that, did you? She’s no shrinking violet.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Thomas. ‘Yes, your wife is here. She is safe and being well looked after. Now I must ask you to leave.’

  Instead, Terry raised his voice. ‘Trish! Trish love! Let me see you for a minute! I promise not to touch you! I’m so sorry. I was out of my mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. Trish, I’m going mad!’

  Trish broke free of Barbie and would have run down the stairs if Barbie had not caught her back. Barbie said, ‘No!’

  Thomas looked up the stairs and that was his mistake, for Terry thrust him aside and got himself and the dogs into the hall. He looked about him, the dogs plunging and jumping around him.

  Ellie stepped in front of him. ‘Thus far, and no further. Trish stays upstairs. You can talk to her from where you stand. If you try to go any further, we’ll ring the police. Understood?’

  ‘Of course, of course. Down, dogs!’ He looked for Trish and found her on the landing, Barbie’s arm around her. ‘There you are! Your parents told me some stupid story about your being hurt. It was you who attacked me. Perhaps you didn’t tell these people that, or they wouldn’t have been so keen to take you in, would they? I could have you charged with assault, but I won’t, because I know you’re sorry you did it. You overreacted. That’s right, isn’t it?’

  Trish had both hands over her mouth. Tears in her eyes. She trembled from head to foot but did not speak.

  Terry said, ‘Well, well. That’s all water under the bridge. I can see you’re sorry for what you did, and I’m prepared to overlook it, just this once. After all, who knows what goes on behind closed doors between a man and his wife, eh? I bet you didn’t tell these people what you’ve been up to, have you?’

  Trish shook her head but still did not speak.

  Terry spread his hands, speaking to Thomas and Rafael, ignoring the women. ‘She’s a little free with her favours, you know? But she’s young and I’m prepared to forgive her, in spite of everything.’

  He was persuasive. Ellie could see how he could charm most people into believing what he said was true. He hadn’t fooled Thomas, whose wide experience had taught him to look below the surface, nor Rafael, who had unusual insight into people’s motives. Nor had he fooled Ellie, as the hairs on the back of her neck had risen on Terry’s first attempt to brush Thomas out of the way.

  A movement
above. Ellie looked up to see Susan and Kat had joined the other women on the landing.

  ‘Enough!’ said Terry, holding out his hand in a commanding gesture. ‘Trish, let’s go somewhere that we can talk in private. If you’ve got a problem, if you’ve misunderstood anything I’ve said, then we can deal with it.’

  Trish said nothing. Her eyes were huge. She shook her head.

  ‘Come on! We can’t hang around all day. I have to get to work and …’ His voice rose, and the dogs yapped. He scowled at the dogs. ‘And you have to walk the dogs. You can’t leave them locked up in the house all morning.’

  Trish whimpered, but didn’t move.

  Barbie said, ‘They’re your dogs, Terry. You’re always telling us how clever you are to have picked out such well-trained animals. You walk them for a change.’

  His face altered from bonhomie to rage. ‘Bitch! I might have known you’d try to put your oar in. Well, we all know your nose is out of joint now. Evan told me you’ve been turned out without a penny. I shall enjoy seeing you down the Job Centre, begging for a job to clean houses, or stack shelves in a supermarket. Come, Trish. We’re wasting time, and time’s money.’

  Once more, Trish shook her head.

  His colour rose. ‘If you don’t come now and take the dogs for their walk, you’ll force me to do something desperate! Understand? And it will be all your fault!’

  Barbie kept her cool. ‘And what will you do, Terry? Employ a dog-walker?’

  ‘If she can’t look after them when she knows perfectly well that I’m far too busy to do so, then … then I’ll have to have them put down!’

  TEN

  Tuesday morning.

  Everyone froze. Did Terry really want to try to have those beautiful dogs put down? Surely not.

  Trish crumpled to the floor, whimpering.

  The dogs, puzzled and unhappy, whined and yelped at Terry’s feet.

  Russet swept down the stairs like an avenging angel. ‘How dare you, you piece of dog shit! Walt never wanted to bring you to the house and now I understand why! I also understand exactly why your poor first wife landed in hospital not once, but three times!’