Murder by Suspicion

by Veronica Heley

  A sniff. ‘Dad’s dead, and Mum’s going through the menopause. She’s into yoga and health supplements. She hates it that I’m into catering. Aunt Lesley’s been good to me, putting me up recently, but I can see it’s not convenient. I’ve been getting by, sharing with friends during term time, but I like my own space. One day, when I’m through with college, I’ll earn enough to get a place of my own.’

  ‘My dear, you can stay here as long as you like. That is, if you’d like to?’

  Susan looked back and up at the big house. ‘The space … The peace and quiet … A bathroom to myself! I’d love to stay.’ She put Midge down and made for the house. ‘Would Thomas like a full English breakfast?’

  Ellie pulled up a couple of weeds from a patch of cosmos and followed her in. Thomas had insisted on hearing all about Claire and Ambrose the previous night, and in telling him, her mind had cleared and she’d realized what needed to be done.

  Firstly, Ambrose was keeping his clients in conditions that amounted to slavery, so something must be done about that. Cue the entry of Social Services?

  Secondly, Claire had contributed to the death of the elderly woman she’d been working for. If she hadn’t actually been guilty of murder, she had certainly committed manslaughter. If the victim had been cremated it might not be possible to prove this, but a stern warning ought to be given to Claire so that she didn’t try it again. Cue the police.

  As for the murdered girls; there was nothing to link Claire with the first one. Nothing at all. Yes, Claire had had a spat with the second victim, whose mobile phone had been found in Claire’s car, but the girl might well have dropped it when given a lift home. There’d been no forensic, nothing else to indicate that Claire had any connection with the girl. What’s more, when Claire had said she had not killed Gail, Ellie had believed her.

  So there was no need for Ellie to do anything about either of the murdered girls, was there?

  Sundays were usually a busy time for Thomas who, though he no longer had a parish, was frequently asked to fill in for a neighbouring clergyman who might be ill or on holiday. So today, it was a treat to have him home for a leisurely breakfast and then to give him a cup of real coffee to enjoy while he read the newspapers. Ellie smiled to herself as he discarded different sections of The Times, dropping them on the floor around his chair. Yes, it was good to have him back. And, it was predictable that as soon as he had got through the papers, he went off to spend time in his Quiet Room.

  Ellie unpacked his cases, rescued the presents she’d bought and placed in his luggage for him to bring back, and started the washing machine. Susan began to prepare a roast dinner, while Rose sat in her big chair, humming along to a programme on the radio. Midge took up a position on the top of the fridge so that he could monitor everything that happened.

  The phone rang. It was Vera. ‘Hi there. I think Mikey left his bicycle with you yesterday, didn’t he? Did he leave his phone as well? He can’t find it anywhere.’

  Ellie thought back. ‘He used it to call a cab when we were ready to come back from Perivale. I’m not sure I saw it after that. I’ll try the cab company, see if he left it on his seat, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t. I’ll ring you back, shall I?’

  She tried the cab company. No, they hadn’t had a smartphone handed in. In any case, Ellie was pretty sure she’d collected everything of Mikey’s from the cab when they’d got to his place. She looked up Emmanuel’s phone number, because she knew his surname, Cook, while Agnes’s hadn’t been mentioned. Mr Cook gave her Agnes’s number, and yes, Agnes had found the smartphone when she’d been plumping up the cushions that morning.

  Should Mikey ride his bike over there to collect it? Um. No. There was some very heavy traffic on those roads, and it was quite a way. Ellie phoned Vera and said the phone had been found, and where. Vera agreed Mikey shouldn’t try to ride over there. She said she would have gone to fetch it herself, but Dan had arranged for them to visit some friends in the country that afternoon. Mikey would have to do without it until someone could get over to retrieve it. It served him right, said Vera, for having been so careless.

  Ellie hesitated. ‘I might be going back there myself some time to have a word with Claire’s brother. If I do, I’ll let you know, shall I?’

  Vera welcomed the suggestion with enthusiasm, but as soon as Ellie had put the phone down, she wondered what on earth had made her offer. Young Mikey ought to be told to go over there by tube and bus. It would take him half a day and might reinforce the idea that he should take more care of his belongings.

  What did she want with Malcolm, anyway? She knew already what sort of linctus his mother had been throwing down her throat, and he couldn’t confirm or deny what Claire had been up to since he threw her out. No, let sleeping dogs lie.

  The doorbell rang again. Tentatively. So, it wasn’t Diana, it wasn’t Mikey and it wasn’t Ambrose. Ellie looked down the passage, but Thomas had not yet emerged from his Quiet Room. He might even have dozed off there. Jet lag must be allowed to run its course.

  It was Claire, with a painful smile on her face. Fidgeting. ‘May I come in for a moment? I won’t be long. Promise.’

  Ellie’s first reaction was to slam the door in Claire’s face. She even started to do so, and then stopped. If what she suspected was true, then Claire had been going around dosing those nearest to her with linctus without anyone daring to say, ‘Stop, thief!’ Well, not thief, but murderer wasn’t the right word, either. Or was it? If there were any evidence … but there wasn’t, unless Claire’s elderly victim had been buried and not cremated? Was this a chance for Ellie to find out what had happened?

  Ellie dithered for a moment, then ushered Claire in. ‘Come in and sit down.’ Ellie led the way to the sitting room.

  ‘Oh,’ said Claire, looking around her. ‘You’ve put the furniture back where it used to be, and you really shouldn’t allow flowers in the house. They’re all God’s creatures, you know, and it’s not right to cut their lives short.’

  Ellie sighed. Claire did have the most unfortunate habit of rubbing people up the wrong way, didn’t she? ‘Each to his own. What you do in your own place is up to you, and what I do is mine. You wanted to see me?’

  Claire leaned forward in her chair, clasping her hands between her knees. ‘You promised to help me, and I want to tell you how grateful I am that you, who have so much, should take the time and trouble to do so. I realize you are struggling against the bonds of Mammon to reach up to the Vision of heaven, but—’

  ‘Yes, let’s take that bit for granted,’ said Ellie. ‘What did you really come for?’

  ‘Why, I …’ Again, she produced a grimace which was intended to be a smile. ‘I wanted to invite you to join us for our service this evening. How can you judge of our sincerity, our striving for perfection, unless—’

  ‘My husband has returned from America and is at this moment spending time with God. Would you like to join him in his Quiet Room?’

  The woman reared back. ‘What? No! Never! How could you suggest such a thing? I could not possibly, not ever, allow myself to be contaminated by—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Ellie. ‘More than enough. Let’s change the subject. You worked for an elderly lady before you went to my daughter, right? I have her name and address here.’ She held up the details she’d got from Diana.

  Eyelids flickered. ‘Yes, a woman with a beautiful soul, reaching towards the light …’

  Oh, yeah!

  ‘… now resting in the arms of the Vision!’

  ‘Was she cremated or buried?’

  Claire sat back in her chair. Another painful smile. ‘She was cremated at her own wish.’

  Ellie sighed. Oh well, that answered the question, didn’t it? Next: someone had to frighten Claire into behaving herself in future, and it looked as if Ellie had been elected to do the dirty work. ‘You killed her, didn’t you?’

  FIFTEEN

  ‘What! How dare you!’ Claire didn’t appear surprise
d by Ellie’s question. It certainly didn’t distress her. She was very confident that she had nothing to worry about, wasn’t she? Perhaps she was right to be confident. If her employer had been cremated, there was no evidence that Claire had ever done anything wrong.

  Ellie said, ‘You tried it on Rose, too; didn’t you?’

  A toss of the head. Another self-conscious smile. ‘Tried what?’

  ‘Linctus. Overdoses mean disorientation, sleepiness, even hallucinations.’

  ‘What rubbish.’ An even broader smile. ‘You are not well. Have you yourself been taking some medication? It sounds as if you have. I am sure that you will feel better once you have admitted that you are partaking of the poisons in a modern diet. You drank coffee and tea this morning, I assume?’

  ‘I think you should know that my solicitor called on Rose yesterday. She has made a new will. It was signed and witnessed there and then.’

  Claire didn’t like that. She passed her tongue over her lips. ‘There was undue influence, no doubt. You stood over her while she signed.’

  ‘I was out for the day. I didn’t hear about it until later. You can tear up the earlier will you asked her to sign. It is no longer valid.’

  ‘You have persuaded her—’

  ‘Not so. What’s more, you should know that I myself made a will some time ago which leaves everything to my husband and to a charitable trust. Even if you sedated me until I didn’t know what I was doing and got me to sign another will, the trustees would fight whatever you produced, and I don’t think Ambrose has enough money to take it through the courts, has he?’

  That had been a shot in the dark, but it appeared to strike home. Claire’s eyes lost intensity, wavered and sank.

  ‘Claire, I believe you are more foolish than evil. You are your own worst enemy. Your temper lets you down, and you take short cuts. We won’t call it murder, but I believe you contributed to the death of the elderly woman you once worked for, and I’m going to make sure that the police start a file on you. Yes, it’s all suspicion. I realize that. But if for instance it ever crossed your mind to misuse linctus in that way again, then you should remember that in such circumstances the police would look very hard in your direction. Next time you might not be lucky enough to get your victim cremated.’

  ‘How could you say such a thing!’ Tears flowed. ‘I’ve never been so insulted—’

  ‘Yes, yes. Now, you’d better go.’

  ‘Hello?’ Thomas opened the door and stood there, clearly unsure whether their visitor was going or staying.

  Ellie said, ‘This is Claire. She’s just leaving.’

  Claire used her handkerchief to good effect, appealing to Thomas. ‘I’m so upset! Your wife has—’

  Thomas said gently, ‘She’s told me about you, yes. I’ll see you out, shall I?’

  A moment later Ellie heard the front door open and close. Thomas came back into the room and put his arm round Ellie.

  Ellie said, ‘You saw what she was like?’

  A nod. ‘A weak brew, with a dash of bitters. She’s dangerous and not as helpless as she would like to seem. Watch your back, my love.’

  The phone rang. It was Mikey. Well, it would be, wouldn’t it? ‘Mum said you might be going back to Agnes’s to fetch my phone?’

  Ellie tried to be severe. ‘It serves you right if I don’t. You are careless, Mikey.’

  ‘But you will?’ Wheedling.

  She tried not to laugh. He had got her where he wanted her, the young rapscallion.

  ‘I might, but I don’t promise to get it back today, understand?’

  ‘Cross my heart, I’ll never let it out of my hands again.’

  ‘Promises, promises. Mikey, did you notice anything in particular about our conversation with Agnes and Emmanuel?’ She wondered why she was asking this of a young boy … but Mikey wasn’t your usual teenager, was he?

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  She reflected that there had been something, but … Ah, she had it. Agnes and Emmanuel had talked a blue streak about Claire and Beryl, but hadn’t seemed bothered about the missing girls. Now, why was that? Oh, it probably meant nothing. It was only natural that the old people were more interested in their own family problems than in the lives of some girls they’d never met.

  ‘Mrs Quicke, if you’re going over there this afternoon, like, may I come, too?’

  ‘No, you can’t. You’re going out with your parents.’

  ‘Dan’s not my father.’ A sulky voice.

  ‘Say that to his face and you’ll get an earful. He’s a better father than your birth parent.’

  A sigh. ‘Yes. I know.’ He put the phone down.

  Thomas said, ‘Are you going out again, my love? Do you want me for anything?’

  Which meant that Sunday or not, Thomas was itching to see what had landed up on his computer while he’d been away. So she might as well track down Mikey’s smartphone.

  Sunday afternoon

  A grey afternoon. Ellie phoned Agnes again to ask if it would be convenient for her to come over to fetch Mikey’s smartphone.

  ‘Why not? Emmanuel said he might pop round, too.’

  Ellie put the phone down, wondering how often Mr Cook ‘popped’ round to see Agnes. Was there a hint of a romantic involvement there? Possibly. But there had been a certain sharpness in Agnes’s tone when Ellie had suggested making a second visit in two days, which reinforced her feeling that those two nice people hadn’t been entirely open with her before. Did they really know something about the vanished girls? Or was she imagining things?

  Once Ellie would have dashed out of the house without leaving a note as to where she might be going, but Thomas had taught her the wisdom of taking safety precautions. As if she needed safety precautions when dealing with the likes of Agnes and Emmanuel!

  Nevertheless, she went down the passage to Thomas’s study, where … Yes, he was on his computer … She managed to catch his attention long enough to indicate that she was writing a note to tell him where she was going to be.

  As she got out of the minicab, the driver asked if he should wait for her.

  Ellie dithered. If this interview were only about collecting Mikey’s smartphone she’d have said ‘yes’. But it was more than that … or was she misreading the signs? Agnes would offer another cup of tea. Ellie thought she might well accept, and that in turn might lead on to further confidences.

  ‘No, don’t wait. I’ll ring when I’m ready to be collected.’

  The front door opened as Ellie climbed the steep path, and there was Agnes, brightly lipsticked, wearing high heeled sandals, a formal blouse and skirt. Smiling.

  What big teeth you have, grandma.

  ‘Lucky you rang. I found his smartphone this morning.’ Agnes ushered Ellie into the big room at the front, where the tea things had been set out on a small table. Emmanuel was already there. He made as if to rise, but gave up the effort and subsided back into his chair. All was as before, with one big difference.

  Two large young men were also in the room, one on the settee and the other on an upright chair.

  Two. Large. Young. Men.

  Ellie felt as if she’d walked into a trap. These two men were very large, and the room seemed to have shrunk. On the other hand, they were both drinking beer, which meant they regarded this as a social occasion. She hoped.

  ‘This is Malcolm,’ said Agnes, indicating a heavily built young man with thinning dark hair who looked as if he did physical work for a living. Capable hands, and feet in heavy boots. Worried grey eyes, ancient jeans and a clean T-shirt.

  A nice boy. Not all that intelligent.

  ‘And this is my son Edward, who is never called Teddy …’

  ‘Except by my wife.’ Edward brayed a laugh. No one else even smiled. Edward was taller than Malcolm, with a flop of fair hair and a rounded chin. He had a big nose, and his eyes were bold and brown. Good, casual clothes.

  Malcolm earned his living with his hands, but Edward had ‘office work
er’ written all over him. Upper management?

  A predator. Beware!

  ‘Do take a seat,’ said Agnes. ‘Cuppa? Milk, no sugar, I seem to remember?’

  Ellie sat. ‘Milk, no sugar. Thank you. So you are all involved, are you? I did wonder.’

  ‘Yes and no,’ said Edward. ‘I had nothing whatever to do with the girls being murdered.’ Here he directed a look marked ‘poison’ at Malcolm.

  Malcolm shuffled his feet, his colour rising. ‘Nor me. Honest. Let God strike me dead.’

  Agnes patted his arm. ‘No one ever thought you had, dear.’ She sent a look to Edward which Ellie interpreted as a warning. Don’t upset the apple cart!

  Ellie wondered what sort of trap this was going to be. ‘You guessed I’d be back?’

  Agnes nodded. ‘We hoped you’d come without the boy. We might have filled in the gaps a bit last time if he hadn’t been around. A nice lad. Clever at his schooling, I expect.’

  Emmanuel grimaced. ‘He’s not as clever as he thinks he is. There was a pair of Karen’s shoes under the table there, and he never even noticed.’

  What!

  Ellie had to peer round her chair to look where he’d pointed, and there they were: a pair of black ballerina shoes, the kind the teenagers wear when they aren’t in high heels. Agnes would never have been seen dead in shoes without heels. And neither Ellie nor Mikey had noticed them!

  ‘You mean that she’s living here, with you?’ said Ellie, her brain zigzagging through so many possibilities that she felt she might faint. She lifted her cup to her mouth and sipped. Good, strong tea. Not doctored in any way. So far, so good.

  Malcolm cracked his knuckles. ‘She came for the weekend. Says she’s bored with school and doesn’t want to go back.’

  ‘She’s living next door, really,’ said Agnes. ‘Same as the others.’

  The others? Ellie wondered if she’d gone deaf or something. Why hadn’t she seen that Malcolm’s place offered a perfect refuge for runaway teenagers? Now she came to think of it, Ellie had noticed, when she was being shown the back garden, that there was an unobtrusive door out of Agnes’s scullery which could connect with Malcolm’s, and the fence around his garden had been built up so that no one could see inside. And she hadn’t put two and two together! She was losing her touch.