Murder of Innocence

by Veronica Heley

  Ellie shivered. ‘If you’ve got to be out for a while – it’s rather cold in here

  – do you have any form of heating we could use?’

  ‘I told you. Boiler’s knackered. Can’t afford a new one. I’m not made of money. Not like some people.’ An acid smile for Ellie, who had been left very well off by her husband. ‘I thought, well, spring’s on the way. I’ve got a little blower heater down below. Shall I bring that up here?’

  Ellie thought, She’s conning me. She wants me to buy her a new central-heating boiler, and she thinks I will because I’m so fond of Tod. Ouch. But I can’t let Tod suffer, and I’m not staying a minute longer than I can help in this icebox. It’s true that I have a warm house and enough money to pay the gas bills. It’s also true that when my dear Frank was alive, I used to pile warm clothes on because he always turned the heating off from the first of May till the first of October, no matter how cold it was. And now I can switch it on whenever I wish.

  ‘Yes, do bring up the extra heating,’ said Ellie. ‘Let me have a front-door key and tomorrow, if you agree, I’ll have my own central-heating engineer look at your boiler, see what can be done with it. Otherwise we’ll have Tod back in hospital, won’t we? No, don’t thank me …’Though the woman had shown no signs of doing so. ‘We’ll come to some arrangement about repayment. Zero interest, twenty pounds a month, or whatever you can afford.’

  The woman’s mouth drooped. She’d thought she could get it for nothing.

  Ellie said, ‘So in the meantime, do you think I could take him back to my place, give him tea?’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t have dared ask you to take so much trouble.’

  Ellie ignored the sarcasm in the woman’s voice. ‘No trouble, provided Tod can make it? How do you feel about it, Tod?’

  By way of answer he got off the bed, still holding her hand. Under her coat he was wearing an old jumper over even older jeans, dirty trainers. Ellie reflected that it was her day for rescuing waifs and strays. To go outside, he’d need a coat or jacket and some kind of cap. Ellie opened his cupboard. The majority of his clothes were still on the floor, but an ancient anorak hung on a peg, and a baseball cap peeped out from the stir-fry on the floor. They’d do. She had to dress him as if he were a toddler, thrusting his arms into sleeves, zipping up the anorak, pulling the cap over his half-shaved head.

  Gratefully she huddled back into her own coat, accepted a front-door key from Mrs Coppola and with Tod walking in her shadow, went back home. Then realized that once again she’d forgotten Gus.

  In the porch she paused. Tod was stuck to her side like glue. ‘Tod, I’ve got someone else staying. A poor man who has nowhere else to go tonight. If he makes you feel uneasy even for a minute, I’ll get rid of him, send him on to a hostel. You’ve only got to let me know. Right?’

  He shrank against her. She hoped it was only because he didn’t want to face a stranger. But suppose … just suppose Gus was the man who had harmed Tod? No, she must be sensible. The police had cleared him. Gus was not the man. Everything she knew about him, everything he’d said himself, reassured her that he was not the man. But if Tod showed any sign of fear then he’d have to go.

  She opened the door and let them into the warm, quiet house. At least, it ought to have been quiet but someone had turned her kitchen radio on. Not loudly, not offensively. But it was definitely on. And someone was whistling along to the music.

  Tod allowed her to take off his anorak but jerked his head away when she would have removed his cap. Ah well, lots of boys wore baseball caps indoors, and he’d be sensitive about that shaved area of his head.

  Ellie went into the kitchen and Tod followed her, clutching a fold of her skirt.

  The back door was open into the conservatory and Gus was sitting there with the easy crossword. Ellie tensed. Tod stared at Gus from under the peak of his cap, but didn’t react.

  Ellie said, ‘Well, I’m back. Gus, would you like a cuppa?’

  Gus started. ‘Why, missus, you gave me a jump.’

  Ellie tested the atmosphere and found it relaxed. Tod’s breathing hadn’t changed. Gus had been uneasy when she brought Tod in, but was now only as concerned as he ought to be. There were no undercurrents.

  ‘Cuppas all round,’ she said. ‘This boy needs something warm inside him. Hot chocolate, Tod? Soup? Tea, coffee?’

  He nodded, which wasn’t particularly helpful, but when she put the kettle on he got out mugs, hot chocolate, the chocolate biscuits and a teapot. He sat at the kitchen table as he had so often over the years, drank his cup of hot chocolate and ate two biscuits. So far, so normal. At least he wasn’t clutching her skirt any more. She took a mug of tea out to Gus, who seemed embarrassed about her running round after him.

  She pottered around in the kitchen, wondering what she could make them for supper, talking to herself, making it seem normal that Tod didn’t reply. Turning the radio down. The next thing she knew, Gus had come into the kitchen for a refill and seated himself opposite Tod. Ellie waited for Tod to show signs of alarm, but he didn’t. When Gus eyed the biscuit tin, Tod even pushed it an inch in the old man’s direction. Ellie considered that a good sign.

  Gus had brought the crossword with him. ‘What’s the capital of Peru, then? Four letters. Might begin with an M.’

  Tod’s eyes sparkled. He knew all right. He’d always been interested in far-off lands and collecting stamps had helped. Ellie trudged through her mind, but couldn’t remember. Her brain was like a sieve nowadays. ‘There’s an atlas in the bookcase in the sitting room, Gus. Bottom shelf, right-hand side. Take a look in that, if you like, but put it back where you found it.’

  Gus scraped back his chair and left. Tod was looking through the hatch into the study where the computer was. Ellie guessed he wanted to play a game. Could she make him ask for it?

  ‘We’ve got bacon and eggs and some potatoes and onions. Shall I make a sort of Spanish omelette for supper?’

  Tod sidled off his chair and to the door, then turned to look at her for permission. So he couldn’t talk yet. He would in time.

  She nodded permission and he disappeared into the study. In a while she heard the whine and ping of a game being played. Good for him. Losing himself in something else. Of course when he played Minesweeper usually he accompanied himself with howls of despair and whoops of glee. This time he played in silence. But it was a step forward.

  The phone rang. It was Aunt Drusilla.

  ‘I’m so sorry, aunt. I did mean to get round to see you this afternoon, but …’

  Aunt Drusilla sounded amused. ‘Diana’s been on the phone. I hear you’ve taken in an escaped criminal. Thought I’d better check that you were still alive.’

  ‘Wait a minute …’ Ellie shut the door to the study with her foot, and reached a long arm to shut the door into the sitting room. Now both her visitors were behind closed doors. ‘That’s better. It was like this …’ She explained what had happened.

  Aunt Drusilla gave her dry laugh and then coughed. ‘Drat it. This east wind never agrees with me. I told Diana that you usually knew what you were doing, but she seemed distraught, babbling now about you offering Stewart a job and then about this paedophile …’

  ‘Ah. I’d better explain. It was just as you thought. Stewart’s job has folded up north and Diana wanted him to stay up there …’

  ‘So you thought I’d bail him out and save his marriage?’ She sounded amused, rather than angry.

  Ellie relaxed. It was going to be all right. You never knew which way Aunt Drusilla would jump. ‘How do you feel about it?’

  ‘Stewart’s honest and hard-working. He always looks for the best in people. Perhaps a trifle naïve? He wouldn’t know all the latest scams that builders use …’

  ‘Well, you do, and you only use firms you can trust. Will you give Stewart a chance? It’s working out cheaper for you to have Diana managing the block of flats than relying on those estate agents, isn’t it? I know you’ve been thinking of findi
ng someone else to manage the rest of your properties, the ones in the older houses. And of course Stewart isn’t to know that you own them.’

  ‘Get that tame solicitor of yours to draw up a contract. Tell Stewart he can start at the end of the month and meanwhile I’ll get the present people to bring their files up to date and hand them over to your solicitor. Stewart can collect them from him. If anything goes wrong, you’ll have to act as go-between. I don’t want him knowing all my business.’

  Tod shot out of the study, making a desperate lunge for Ellie. She held on to him, telling Aunt Drusilla that she’d ring her back. Tod buried his head in her arm, knocking his cap on to the floor. His breathing was far too rapid. He’d lost so much weight that he felt bony.

  He tried to scramble on to her lap, but the chair in the hall was too small to hold them both comfortably. Half carrying and half leading him into the sitting room, she got him on to the settee with her to give him a cuddle.

  Gus looked up from the atlas he was studying and made as if to withdraw. Ellie smiled at him, indicating he should stay. Tod burrowed into her armpit. Maybe he was crying. She clucked and soothed him.

  A quiet time. A time apart from all that had happened and all the terror that was to follow. A golden time. The phone rang several times. She didn’t move. The answerphone would take messages.

  A time for prayer. Gus’s eyes were closed. Perhaps he was praying, too. Perhaps not. It didn’t matter. The rain had stopped and a shaft of sun thrust through the window behind her, glanced off the bevel of the mirror over the mantelpiece, and set a prism of colour dancing on the wall. She smiled at herself for thinking it an omen, but recognized that it had lifted her heart.

  Eventually Tod’s shakes subsided and he slept.

  Eventually her arm went to sleep. Eventually Gus appeared at her side with a mug of tea, which he’d made for her, unasked. She smiled her thanks.

  Gus lowered his voice to say, ‘I thought at first he might be one of the lads that set on me the other night. I wouldn’t mind giving them a taste of the old strap. But he wasn’t one of them. Reminds me of when I was little.’ He shook his head, remembering. ‘Our dad used to beat us, all four of us. It takes the heart out of you.’

  ‘That’s terrible.’

  He shrugged. ‘Mum went off. Can’t blame her, except for not taking us with her. There wasn’t no one to cuddle us, after. Likely you’ll see to it the lad gets proper help.’

  ‘His mother’s taking him to all these appointments tomorrow. Doctor, hospital and police. He’ll need counselling, too.’

  ‘Hospitals! National Waste of Time. Wait three hours, busy doctor says, “What are you here for, we’ve lost your notes, come back in six weeks.”’

  ‘I can’t go over the heads of… no, you’re right. If I square it with his mother, perhaps I can. When Tod wakes up, I’ll ring a therapist friend of mine, see who she can get him in to see privately. Then I must get some supper.’

  ‘Don’t you bother with that home cooking, missus. Fast food is what the lad’ll want. Pizza. McDonalds.’

  Tod stirred and yawned. ‘Pepperoni,’ he murmured.

  ‘Pepperoni it is,’ said Ellie, delighted to think she didn’t have to cook, and even more delighted to hear Tod speak.

  Six

  By seven o’clock Ellie was at screaming pitch. Despite all her good intentions, everything Gus did irritated her. She made herself be pleasant, though. It was her own fault entirely that she was landed with him. She had taken him in off the street and offered him a bed, provided he behaved. He had behaved, more or less, but he’d left his belongings where they’d fallen, strewn across the carpet. The very sight of him sitting in what had been her dear husband Frank’s chair was enough to drive her to the sherry bottle – except that she daren’t drink in front of a man who admitted to a problem with alcohol.

  She could see him assessing her assets. Widow, nicely placed. Bound to be lonely. Might be worth buttering up. ‘Nice place you’ve got here, missus.’ His eyes went from the television and video to the stereo, from the silver vase and christening cup on the mantelpiece to her handbag lying open on the floor beside the settee.

  He picked up the framed photo of her dear dead Frank, and she nearly yelled at him to Put It Down! He smirked at her. ‘Your better half?’

  ‘My husband. He died late last year. But I have lots of friends, keep myself busy, people drop by, church business, you know how it is.’

  He got the message but continued to register the more valuable items in the room. The crystal glass in the corner cupboard.The rather good artnouveau clock which had been her mother’s.

  Tod had gone to sleep again, having eaten two thirds of his pizza. Ellie began to feel, not afraid of Gus, exactly. But wary. He sat there, cracking his finger joints, looking at her in a speculative way. She didn’t like it.

  ‘Mind if I smoke?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m afraid I do mind.’ She couldn’t put up with him smoking, that would be the last straw. She wasn’t a big woman and if he were to jump her … but no, the thought was ridiculous. On the other hand, perhaps it had been foolish of her to invite him into her house just to spite Diana. Which is why she’d done it. Ouch.

  The phone rang again, and again the answerphone clicked in. That made three calls she hadn’t answered – or perhaps it was four. Gus must think that she usually let the phone go unanswered. In which case, he might well be thinking that if he were to knock her on the head, steal whatever was in her handbag and scarper, then no one would find her for hours. She must stir herself, show him he was wrong.

  She eased herself out from under Tod and stood up. ‘Suppose you collect your belongings and I’ll show you your room. You could smoke up there, if you kept the window open. I’m afraid there isn’t a television up there, but there is an old radio. You may use the bathroom tonight before I go up, and after I’ve been in there tomorrow morning. I have to get Tod back home or his mother’ll be worrying, and I must see to the messages on the answerphone, or they’ll all be coming round to see what’s wrong with me.’

  Prompt on cue, the doorbell rang. Impatiently. Three times. It would be Roy, he never had the patience just to ring once. Tod stirred and rubbed his eyes. Gus got down on the floor to gather his things together.

  Ellie opened the front door, her finger to her lips. Roy shook rain off his umbrella and burst in without ceremony.

  ‘Ellie, thank God. I was afraid … but I see you are quite all right. I was round at my mother’s and she told me you’d taken leave of your senses.’ In a lower voice, ‘Yes, yes, I understand that he’s still here. I rang you a couple of times and when you didn’t answer I thought I’d best come round. So, tell me what’s going on. I promised I’d get you to ring my mother back. She’s really anxious about you.’

  Ellie raised her voice so that Gus could hear. ‘How nice of you to come round, Roy. Do come in. Is it raining again? Oh, dear. Roy, this is Gus. He’s staying the night in the spare room. Of course, you know Tod. Little sleepy-head. Roy, could you get him back into his anorak? And I don’t know where his cap’s got to. Can I borrow your umbrella for a minute? It’s bigger than mine. I’m just going to take Tod back to his mother’s while Gus takes his things upstairs … the room straight across at the back of the house, Gus … and then, Roy, you and I can sit down and have a coffee, right?’

  Ellie delivered a still sleepy Tod back to his mother’s care – his bedroom was still as cold as ice, but there was a hot-water bottle in the bed. Ellie tucked Tod up with his panda beside him. His mother had company in the sitting room and that was the room where she’d got the small heater running, but she came out to say goodnight to Ellie and moan that she’d forgotten to give Ellie the antibiotics which Tod was supposed to be taking, but she didn’t suppose it would matter, and yes, she had managed to get tomorrow off, so it was doctor’s first thing, then the police and counselling and goodness knows what else.

  Oh well. Ellie trudged back through the rain
to her own cosy house. Only it didn’t seem so cosy now, with Gus upstairs.

  Roy had turned up the central heating and found a bottle of brandy from somewhere. She sank into her favourite chair and eased off her wet shoes. ‘Don’t tell me I’m a fool to take Gus in. I know it.’

  Roy poured her a brandy. ‘My mother said you did it to get Diana out of your house, but surely you could have thought of something less drastic.’

  ‘I suppose I could have used a kitchen knife on her? Or a slab of paving stone? No, you’re right. I could have got rid of her another way, I suppose, but … well, I just didn’t like the thought of the man being turned out into the rain like that.’

  ‘He could rob you blind.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He took a gulp of his own drink. ‘He could, well, try it on with you.’

  ‘Yes, I expect he will.’ She sighed. ‘But refusing to take him in would be like turning a stray cat out into a thunderstorm. The local hostel’s full. The nearest Salvation Army hostel that’s got room for him is miles away. Roy

  – you’ve got a nice flat, only one bedroom but you do have a good settee in the living room. Will you take him in?’

  ‘Good God, no!’

  ‘The curate wouldn’t, either. So I have. And no, I’m not sure he’s perfectly harmless and yes, I will have to lock up my treasures and be careful about my handbag and my keys. If he gets drunk tomorrow, I’ll throw him out. Come to think of it, I’m going to have to push him out of the house tomorrow because I’m right out of food and need to visit your mother and see to Mrs Coppola’s central heating and oh, a hundred different things.’

  Roy stood with his back to the rarely used gas fire, in the age-old position of The Man of the House Laying Down the Law. ‘Ellie, you’re not thinking straight. You can’t possibly allow him to stay.’

  ‘You sound just like my dear dead husband.’

  ‘If he were still alive, he’d knock some sense into you.’

  ‘So he would.’ Ellie put her glass down with a hand that trembled. ‘So he would,’ she repeated, quietly. She thought, Yes, Frank would have forbidden me to take Gus in, and I’d have gone along with it because Men Know Best. Only, he’s gone and left me and I don’t like being bullied, even by Roy. Roy means well, I know, and part of me would love to fall at his feet and cling to his knees and have a little weep and have my shoulder patted and be told, There, there, now; you poor little thing, let me take care of you. The other half wants to use a very rude word to him.