Murder by Suspicion

by Veronica Heley

  ‘… as you continue to leave your old self behind and welcome the new, you will learn to grow in the light until you become part of the Vision itself …’

  What nonsense! Ellie thought. But found it difficult to move.

  ‘The Vision has been blocked by your sins, your idolatry, your love of money and power …’

  What! thought Ellie. The woman’s mad!

  ‘You realize that the chains of your sin and your wealth are holding you back, speaking the words of Mammon … but you are slowly but definitely being drawn to the light. Even as we speak, the Vision has you in its sight …’

  The woman was trying to hypnotize her!

  THREE

  ‘No,’ said Ellie. And then, louder, ‘No!’ She pushed Claire’s hand away and tried to stand up. Made it at the second attempt. Her balance was still not good. Jet lag. Ugh.

  Claire stepped back, frowning. ‘You shouldn’t try to fight it.’

  ‘Fight what?’ Ellie rubbed her forehead.

  ‘The light of the Vision, which is helping you to rid yourself of the evil powers that hold you in thrall.’

  Ellie tried to laugh. Almost made it. ‘Look, Claire; I don’t know what you believe in, but I believe in God and in doing as much good as I can in this world.’

  ‘We know that. I’ve been sent to show you the true path of—’

  ‘Enough!’ said Ellie. ‘I’m sorry, but this is not working out. I think the best thing we can do is for me to give you a month’s wages, and for you to leave immediately.’

  The woman gaped. ‘You can’t do that!’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘You don’t understand. I have to keep this job. It’s desperately important! And anyway, you can’t sack me without reason.’

  ‘Reason enough,’ said Ellie, groping her way back into her chair. ‘You were asked to look after an elderly, frail woman and took her out of the house when she couldn’t even walk unaided. You lower the thermostat on the central heating till it’s too low for an elderly woman’s comfort, you’ve turned my house upside down, my regular cleaners have walked off in a huff, and you’ve brought in two women who refused to listen to what I wanted them to do, and what’s more—’

  ‘I can explain!’

  ‘—it seems you got Rose to sign some sort of contract which she didn’t understand, for an indefinite period of time. I rather think the police would be interested in hearing about that, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Claire sank into a chair, legs awry, skirt above her knees … An unappetizing sight. As were the tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Not the police! They’ll crucify me!’

  ‘Hardly,’ said Ellie, whose head seemed stuffed with cotton wool.

  Claire slid to the floor and clutched at Ellie’s hand. ‘You can’t, you mustn’t, I beg of you!’

  Ellie tried to release herself. ‘Let go!’

  Claire clutched all the harder, shuffling forward on her knees, kissing – actually kissing – Ellie’s hand. ‘They think I did it, but I didn’t, honest I didn’t! I’ll swear on the bible, on the cross, on the Holy Vision, I did not kill that girl! But if you ring them, they’ll think …’

  Tears splashed on to Ellie’s knee. She tried to pull away, but she was already at the back of the chair.

  ‘I beg of you, see: I kiss your hands and feet!’ She slobbered over Ellie’s hand and made as if to duck down to kiss Ellie’s feet.

  Ellie said, ‘If you try to kiss my feet, I shall kick you! I mean it! I shall kick you into next week, and then I’ll ring the police. For heaven’s sake, woman: get a grip!’ Ellie fought her hand free and managed to wriggle out of her seat. She held on to the back of her chair until she felt less dizzy, then moved to the window. The sun had come out. Sort of. She wrestled the French windows open to let in the fresh air. And breathed deeply. Her head was stuffy, but now she could think more clearly.

  She found a hanky and wiped her hand. Ugh. She must wash it.

  Claire had stayed on her knees, an ungainly heap in stale black clothes. Her skirt had rucked up. She was wearing knee-highs instead of full-length tights. Her shoes were scuffed. Her hair was wrenched back and secured with an elastic band which was not doing its job properly. Diana had said the woman was in her thirties, but she looked fifty. Her eyes were slightly protuberant, grey, brimming over with tears. She put her palms together, as if in prayer, and held them up to Ellie. ‘I beg of you! Don’t ring the police!’

  Ellie closed her eyes momentarily. Dear Lord above, what a mess! What do you want me to do? She is such a poor creature that I … But she did try to hypnotize me. Or did she? I can’t think straight.

  ‘If you have any Christian feeling left in your heart, you won’t turn me over to the heathen.’

  What heathen? The police?

  That would have made Ellie laugh, if she hadn’t been feeling so strange. She said, ‘Oh, get up, do. I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee and some painkillers. I suggest you go and have a wash and tidy up. Then we will sit down and discuss how best to deal with the situation.’

  Saying which, Ellie walked around the still-kneeling Claire and made her way to the kitchen, where, surprise!, Vera was scouring a sparklingly clean sink and Rose was sitting in her chair, looking no bigger than an eight-year-old child. The air was clean, Midge the cat was sitting on top of the fridge, and all was right with the world.

  Ellie said, ‘Oh, Vera: you wonder! But you shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Hah!’ said Vera, drying her hands. ‘You know I can’t bear to see a kitchen in a mess. Five minutes’ work, that’s all. Now I must be on my way. I’ll pop in again tomorrow.’ She kissed Rose, gave Ellie a high five and banged the front door shut on her way out.

  ‘Lovely to see her again,’ said Rose. ‘I told her she shouldn’t bother with us now she’s pregnant—’

  ‘Is she?’ Ellie was annoyed with herself for having missed that. ‘I know she was thinking about having a second child with her new husband, but … Oh, I’m so pleased for her.’ She washed her hands, reached for the kettle, remembered they were out of instant coffee … Well, they had some peppermint tea somewhere, didn’t they? ‘I could do with a cup of really strong coffee.’

  ‘Bad for us,’ said Rose. ‘Claire got rid of it.’

  Ellie made them both a cup of peppermint tea and sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing her forehead. Midge jumped up on to her knee, golden eyes seeking hers. He pushed his head against her hand, wanting to be rubbed behind his ears. Ellie pulled him in to her and gave him a hug. He allowed this for two seconds, and then struggled free. She was annoyed with herself for trying to hold him tightly, because Midge relished his freedom. She pulled a face at him as he jumped back up on to the fridge.

  ‘Done it to you, has she?’ said Rose. ‘Did it to me, too.’

  ‘What did she do?’

  ‘I really don’t know. I’m glad you’re back. It’s like I’ve been living in a fog. The days slid past. I went to bed and I got up and I sat in my chair, and all the time she yakked away about I don’t know what. And tears! I’ve never seen anything like it. She told me such stories about healings and sin and repentance and how badly she’s been treated, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her in a way, but I can’t abide those that sit down and wail when things don’t go right for them. What’s more, Miss Quicke says she doesn’t like her, and she doesn’t like the house being turned upside down and inside out, but you’ll get Amy and Anna back again, won’t you?’

  Claire humped herself into the kitchen. Had she overheard Rose’s last words? Midge jumped down from the fridge and exited through the cat flap. Oh dear.

  Claire’s face still looked blotchy, but she’d tidied herself up. ‘You can’t get rid of my girls, you just can’t. They have to live on bread and water if they don’t work.’

  Ellie said, ‘Tough. They should have listened to me.’

  ‘You don’t understand!’ Claire plonked herself down beside Ellie and would have taken her hand again i
f Ellie hadn’t shifted herself on to the next chair. ‘They’re recovering addicts, you see.’

  Ellie blinked. This was all too much for her to take in.

  Rose was interested. ‘You mean, heroin and crack cocaine? That sort of addict? No! I’ve never met an addict before, that I know of.’

  ‘Yes, they are,’ said Claire, earnestness leaking from every pore. ‘We rescue them from their degradation and give them work. But, no work, no food – except bread and water, of course.’

  ‘You mean,’ said Ellie, clutching her head again, ‘you really don’t give them anything to eat or drink except bread and water? How very … biblical.’

  ‘Now you’re beginning to understand. If they lapse then they’re out in the cold again. But very often, it works.’ Claire reached for Ellie’s hand again, and again Ellie evaded her.

  Ellie tried to think straight. ‘And you? Are you going to go back on bread and water if you don’t keep this job here?’

  Claire reddened. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Yet you said you were innocent.’

  Claire seemed to shrink in size. ‘I am, I am! Totally innocent of killing that silly little girl.’ Her eyes implored Ellie to understand. ‘Of course, I sinned. Before she disappeared, I told that girl exactly what I thought of her. You may say, “Who was I to judge?” And yet I did. I was proud of my own integrity. I was not like other women, refusing to speak when I could see she was heading for damnation. I spoke out to admonish her and point out where she was sinning, but I did it the wrong way. I did it because I was proud of not being like her. I did not do it in love. And so the girl went astray. Of that I am guilty and must pay the price.’

  Ellie desperately tried to think clearly. ‘You gave her an earful, and she went off in a huff? Is that what happened?’

  ‘They tried to make out I killed her. It’s true she scratched me, the little cat, when I spoke my mind, and yes, I admit that I was consumed with anger and would have slapped the young … girl, when she called me … what she did call me. But when she banged out of the car, when I’d been so good as to give her a lift, and kicked the door panel, when she had no right to harm my poor little car … well, that was it, as far as I was concerned. Good riddance to bad rubbish.’ She nodded, bridling.

  ‘I see,’ said Ellie. ‘At least, I think I do. But no one saw her after that?’

  Claire flicked her fingers. ‘She phoned to say she’d gone off with a new boyfriend and was perfectly all right. I told them that I’d seen her chatting with an older man outside the drama club, but they said it couldn’t be him, and that I was making it up.’

  ‘What older man?’

  A shrug. ‘How should I know? They said, her mother said, that I lied. I don’t lie. I speak the truth as I find it. I saw her with an older man the night before she went off. He had his hand down the back of her jeans, and she was tickling his neck. The hussy!’

  Ellie could believe this. It wasn’t the sort of tale which a woman like Claire would make up. Or would she? Was it just a fantasy, because she herself was unlikely to attract a man? Had Claire, without realizing it, been jealous of a young, flighty girl? ‘But the girl did phone later on to say she was all right?’

  ‘She did, and the police stopped looking for her. As I told them, she was off enjoying herself and didn’t want to be found. If you point the police in my direction now, they’ll start on me again. I mustn’t bear her ill will,’ said Claire in saintly fashion, clearly lying through her teeth. ‘If anyone’s to blame it’s the mother for not controlling the girl. Is it surprising that she went off with a man, as stupid girls of that age do, without any thought for the consequences? The mother had no call to tell the police that I’d had words with her. I deny absolutely that I enjoyed getting the girl into trouble. It was my duty to report what I had seen, and I have never flunked my duty.

  ‘The police took the mother’s part, of course. Well, they would, wouldn’t they? I was out of work and had debts to pay … Well, never mind that. Then I had to go to work for a demanding old bitch who … No, I don’t mean … She couldn’t help wanting … And I had to do everything for her, put on her socks and shoes, make her cocoa in the night, see she took her linctus, and listen to her boring … No, I mustn’t say that, because she did see the light before she died, and that was good, wasn’t it? A soul saved for eternal life in the sun.’

  ‘After which,’ said Ellie, trying to get the time frame straight, ‘you went to work for my daughter?’

  The woman tossed her head. ‘It wasn’t my fault that it didn’t work out with Diana. At my age, I can’t be expected to cook and wash up and run around after a toddler as well.’

  That was fair comment. ‘Diana passed you on to me?’

  ‘I saw that the Lord had directed me to the right house, where I could ease the passage of a strayed lamb into the Vision of the end of the world …’

  Did she mean Rose? Ellie shot a glance in Rose’s direction, only to see that her old friend had drifted off to sleep, thank goodness.

  ‘… and then it was sheer providence that caused those two nasty cleaners of yours to disobey my orders and call me names, so I got rid of them, which allowed me to bring in two of our black sheep to work here and provide them with food and drink. Now you have returned, and –’ with a brilliant smile – ‘we will be able to work together to bring the Vision a step nearer to reality.’

  Ellie blinked. ‘I’m not so sure about that. I like the house as it was, and I’ll have no truck with furniture being moved around, central heating being turned down and elderly ladies being made to overexert themselves.’

  Claire leaned forward to try to take Ellie’s hand again. Again Ellie avoided her.

  Claire said, ‘I see I must teach you how to live your life so as to move to a higher level. Wealth is not to be squandered on bursaries and institutions, but directed to help the deserving poor …’

  Ellie recalled a Victorian philanthropist who’d said that the Deserving Poor generally didn’t deserve it and were never grateful, anyway. That had been the conclusion she’d reached too, in the years she’d been administering her charitable trust. You needed to be really, really sure about someone before you gave them money. You never gave to alcoholics or gamblers. The best use of the trust money was to give to organizations with a proven track record: schools, clubs helping a particular section of the community, and so on. Yes, the trust had given to individuals now and then, but the results had not always been satisfactory.

  Ellie thought, I’m hysterical. I want to laugh, and it’s no laughing matter.

  Claire continued, ‘We must never allow our eyes to fall away from the Vision at the end of the world. We must deny ourselves in little ways to strengthen our moral fibre. We must wear black to show that we repent of our sins. We must always look to the east first thing every morning, so our beds must be oriented that way, and of course we must eschew meat and wine and stimulants such as tea and coffee. Where man and woman are joined in matrimony, they must sleep apart, to—’

  Ellie had had enough. ‘Stop!’ And, with relief, ‘That’s the doorbell.’

  It was indeed the doorbell. Ellie opened the door to find no fewer than four people outside, none of whom looked pleased to be in the company of the others.

  ‘Decorator,’ said a fiftyish man in paint-stained overalls. ‘As arranged.’ He had a beak of a nose and bold eyes which assessed Ellie’s figure and dismissed her as being of no importance.

  Behind him, sniffing, stood a thin boy dressed in black T-shirt and jeans, who was trying – and failing – to manoeuvre a stepladder into the porch. A refugee from the drugs programme?

  Ellie gaped.

  The decorator tried to push the door wide open so that he might move forward into the hall. ‘Come on. Let us in. We’re painting your dining room today.’

  Ellie stood her ground. ‘Thank you, but no thank you. There seems to have been some sort of mistake and—’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake
, stop arguing and let me in!’ Ellie’s daughter, Diana, eeled her way past the decorator into the hall. She was also clad in black, but that was her regular office gear and nothing to do with repentance. Diana didn’t ‘do’ repentance.

  ‘Maria said you were back,’ said the fourth person, stepping in after Diana, but keeping a wary distance from her. Diana wasn’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at her. That was par for the course, as they’d once been man and wife. A long time ago. The contrast between them had grown rather than lessened over the years. Stewart’s substantial figure spoke of a contented life, whereas Diana was still as thin as a whippet and constitutionally discontented with her lot.

  The decorator flourished a piece of paper at Ellie, his eyes going beyond her to look round the hall. ‘I suppose you’re the old housekeeper. See? It says. This morning to start. I shoulda been here earlier, but the boy here –’ he sent ‘the boy’ a darkling look – ‘wasn’t out of bed in time. So if you’ll stand back to let us in, we’ll make a start.’

  ‘Claire? You?’ Diana advanced on the shrinking figure. ‘I might have known you’d be at the bottom of this talk about decorating my mother’s house. What nonsense!’

  Claire wrung her hands. ‘Oh, no! How can you say that!’

  ‘Easily.’ Diana swung round on Ellie. ‘We have to talk. Now!’

  ‘What, now?’ said Ellie, knowing that was an inadequate response.

  Stewart was also looking anxious. ‘Ellie, yes; I know you’re only just back, but—’

  A little voice piped up. ‘Such a lot of people. Shall I make coffee?’ A tiny brown wren of a woman stood in the door to the kitchen quarters.

  Ellie experienced another moment of dislocation. Had her formidable Aunt Drusilla really come back to life? No, of course not. It was Rose, who seemed to be shrinking with every day that passed.

  ‘Thank you, Rose. But I don’t think so, especially since we haven’t got any. Diana, I was just about to go to the shops. I can’t—’

  ‘Ten minutes. You can surely give me ten minutes. I’m due back at the office in—’