‘She’s a good girl.’
‘Not right for Dan, though. This new partner of his . . . Well –’ a frown – ‘she’s older than him. Been around the block a couple of times, I wouldn’t wonder. Not exactly love’s young dream.’
‘I wonder where the Priors found her?’
‘Some smart lawyer-type produced her. Everything goes through him, nowadays.’
Ellie set down her glass. ‘Which reminds me; I know Dan never looked at anyone but Ursula in the old days, but I wondered if he could think of someone who was interested in Mia Prior before . . . before everything went wrong. Someone who might now wish her harm?’
‘That poor girl. Rotten what they did to her. That is, if it’s true, and we can’t say it was or it wasn’t yet, can we? Not till it comes to trial. Though why they have to lock them all up just on her say so, I really don’t know, when it might have been only a spot of rough housing going too far, if you see what I mean. Too much slap and tickle, and her taking it the wrong way.’
Ellie suppressed a shudder. She’d seen Mia’s injuries, and they’d gone well beyond ‘slap and tickle’. ‘Mia’s recovering slowly, but someone keeps sending her messages saying they want her dead, which is giving her the heebie-jeebies.’
‘Serve her right, if she made it all up. Getting that fine family, that never harmed nobody, into trouble. Anyway, they can’t do nothing from where they are at present, can they?’
Ellie set her teeth. ‘Her injuries were very real, Mrs Collins, and it is possible that some friend of theirs might be trying to intimidate the girl, trying to frighten her enough to withdraw her testimony. I wanted to ask Dan if he can think of anyone who might be lurking in the background, someone willing to help the Priors out.’
Mrs Collins poured herself another drink. ‘All the Prior’s fine friends disappeared overnight, didn’t they? That’s why they had to change the name of the building and of the Health Club. Mud sticks.’
‘Dan stuck to them.’
‘You’re not suggesting that he would—’
‘No, I don’t think he would.’
‘No, he wouldn’t.’
Were they both trying to convince themselves? No, Ellie thought not. Dan simply wasn’t the type to think up such things. What about his new partner, though? Mm, if she were employed by the Priors, she might be acting for them in more than one capacity. Except that the girl in the flower shop had specified an untidy young man, not a woman. On another tack . . .
‘Did you ever meet one of Mia’s boyfriends in the old days?’
‘She didn’t really have one. She liked the boy who went over the balcony and got himself killed, but he only had eyes for Ursula, who didn’t encourage him, I’ll say that for her. She didn’t look at anyone but Dan in those days.’
‘Dan might know of someone? It’s really important, Mrs Collins. We think someone from Mia’s past is still around and anxious to see her dead. I realize it’s a long shot, but would it be possible for me to speak to Dan about it some time?’
‘I suppose.’ Another shrug. Mrs Collins emptied her glass. ‘He usually drops in with his dirty washing after the weekend. Says the new girl won’t do it, so I have to. They never really grow up, do they? I’ll ask him to phone you, shall I?’ She got to her feet. ‘Well, I must be getting on. Ginge likes a spot of tea, something with chips. I tell him he’ll have me putting on weight, and he says he likes to have something to get his hands on, if you see what I mean.’ She giggled.
‘Of course. And thanks.’
So that was that. Ellie called in at the bank, and she was on her way home when she clapped her hand to her forehead.
You silly fool. Missing what’s under your nose. Ursula would know who might be targeting Mia. She’s intelligent and observant; she’ll be able to give us some idea who to look for. She’s been in and out of the house all the time, seeing to Mia, and I’ve never once thought of telling her what’s been going on.
All right, all right, I know she’s busy with the preparations for the wedding . . . though come to think of it, I ought to be putting her in the picture on what’s going to happen with the Party Planner.
I don’t want to alarm Mia unduly. I wonder if I can ring Ursula on her mobile, arrange to meet her somewhere outside the house?
Ellie picked up her pace, looking at her watch. She’d reached the Green around the church by now. Should she take time to run over to the police station to see if DI Willis was back from leave? And what – if anything – DC Milburn might be doing? Had the police picked up the Sympathy Card and wreath? No, the wreath had been put out with the rubbish, hadn’t it?
Ellie told herself she shouldn’t waste valuable police time by reminding them of things which they already had in hand. No, of course not. And that was nothing to do with the fact that DI Willis intimidated her. She sat down on one of the benches by the church and got out her mobile. She rather thought Ursula’s number was somewhere in its interior workings, but how did you discover . . .? Ah, got it. She was pleased with herself. Now, how did you make the call? Ah, splendid. Except that her call went to voicemail, and Ellie hadn’t worked out precisely what she wanted to say.
‘Ursula? This is Ellie Quicke here. I need to talk to you about the wedding, and about Mia. Perhaps away from the house? I know you must be terribly busy, but . . . could you ring me?’
She switched the phone off. Then remembered that Mr Balls wanted her to leave it on all the time . . . and of course Ursula might get back to her soon. She switched it back on. She sat back, trying to relax. The sun was warm on her face, the grass at her feet well mown, the stonework of the Victorian church glowing. Someone’s phone trilled. With a start, Ellie realized it was hers. ‘Hello?’
‘Mrs Quicke? Ursula here. You wanted an update? Mia’s fine, I think. Coming along nicely. Thomas has let her use his computer to check her bank account, and it seems the Priors haven’t stopped her allowance and it’s been piling up all these months. She didn’t want to take it at first, but we talked some sense into her, and she realizes she’ll have to use it to pay some bills – you’ve been getting some bits and pieces for her, haven’t you? – and keep her afloat till she decides what she wants to do with herself.’ Ursula’s voice was like herself, alto-sax. Wasting no words.
‘That’s fine,’ said Ellie, ‘but look, I need to talk to you away from the house. I’m near the Avenue. Could you spare time to join me for a bite to eat? My treat.’
‘My father and his family fly in from America today, and I have to meet them at Heathrow Airport this afternoon, but I know you wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. It is important, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. The Sunflower Café, half an hour?’
Thursday noon
Ursula was on time. A tall, strongly-built girl with long honey-coloured hair. Not an anorexic Hollywood chicklet, but someone who could blaze into beauty. Today she wore a skimpy flowered top over a black vest and leggings, and looked a million dollars. Her hair had been tied back in a knot, but it wasn’t coming apart like most people’s did. In fact, Ellie concluded that part of Ursula’s ‘presence’ was her grooming. She looked older than she really was. She looked as if she could hold her own in any company.
She was wearing a stunning engagement ring, a sapphire surrounded by diamonds. Probably old. Something his family had cherished for generations?
Ellie handed over the menu and said to the waitress, ‘I’m having sausages and mash. I need carbohydrates.’ And to Ursula, ‘You look as if you’ve had some good news?’
Ursula said, ‘A ham salad for me.’ And to Ellie, laughing, ‘Does it show? Congratulate me; I’ve just landed a wonderful job, helping to choose the jewellery and accessories for a big fashion firm. I’m floating on air.’
‘You’ve told Sam?’
‘On my way out of the interview. He’s thrilled for me. I start as soon as we come back from honeymoon. It’ll be chaos, getting into the new flat and everything, but I don’t care if we do sl
eep on a mattress on the floor at first.’
‘That’s the spirit. I remember when I married first . . . No, no. You won’t want to hear about that.’
Ursula smiled. ‘Some time you’ll tell me, but not now. You haven’t asked me to meet you so urgently without a good reason. Mia’s all right, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, she is. I won’t keep you long, but first let me tell you what’s happening on the wedding front.’ She proceeded to give Ursula a word picture of Mr Balls and his two slaves, and what they were going to do to keep the two wedding receptions apart.
Ursula was fascinated and appalled. ‘If I’d known, I’d never have accepted your offer to hold the reception at your place. I wonder if it’s possible even now to shift it somewhere else?’
‘Certainly not. I’m looking forward to seeing you wed and to giving you a good send-off. Neither Thomas nor I would miss it for the world. We want to give you a wedding present, too, if you’ll allow us to do so.’
Ellie passed over an envelope containing some of the money which she’d just collected from the bank. ‘We’ll give you something for your new home later on, when you’ve settled in and found out what you need, but for now this is to help with expenses. Your father and his family staying over, that sort of thing.’
Ursula pushed the envelope back. ‘No, no. Something for the flat later; that would be wonderful. You’ve given me so much, Mrs Quicke. When I asked you to find Mia, I didn’t really believe you could do it. I’d been surrounded for ever by men and women who believed that corruption was acceptable, that you couldn’t fight it. I was on the point of accepting it, too. Then I met you and Thomas and understood it was possible to stand up for what I believed in at heart. You don’t realize it, perhaps, but you and Thomas sort of shine. That sounds a bit silly, but—’
‘No, you’re right. Thomas does shine.’
‘You do, too. It was like turning a corner and seeing that there was a different road to travel down. A harder road, maybe. But one that made me feel more comfortable in myself. Now I look back and shudder when I think how near I was to giving up. My dear Sam is the same. I know that in the years to come there may be times when he’ll stand up for the truth, against the odds, and refuse to compromise. Perhaps his sense of humour will help him through difficult situations, and perhaps not. Perhaps his integrity may count against him, and may even block his way up the career ladder, but he’s not in this life for wealth and power, and neither am I. And remember, if I’d never met you and Thomas, I’d never have met Sam, either. So please, don’t try to give me money.’
Ellie put the money back in her bag. ‘You’re right, of course. Sorry.’
Ursula gave one of her blindingly white smiles. ‘So how are you coping with two weddings at once? And how is Midge the terrible cat managing?’
‘He’s very annoyed, but on the scrounge for titbits at coffee times. Mia is preoccupied, cooking up a storm, which I think is a good thing. She really is a good cook, isn’t she? Your wedding certainly is doing wonders for her confidence. It’s the best possible way to ease her back into a social occasion. She loves her dress. You are clever, Ursula.’
Ursula drew in a sharp breath. ‘Not clever enough to have seen what the Priors intended to do with her. Not clever enough to have stopped it.’
‘Now don’t beat yourself up. I don’t see how you could have known what would happen, and you got her out of it, didn’t you? And rescued her from that harridan of an aunt in the country.’
‘Poor old biddy. She’ll probably have to go into a home now. She’d become totally dependent on Mia to keep her going. I feel sorry for her.’
A smile. ‘But not sorry enough to leave Mia with her.’
‘No, not that.’ Ursula laughed. Their meals arrived. ‘And now for the bad news?’
‘Ah. Well, someone – we don’t know who – seems bent on terrorizing Mia. I’m not referring to the car accident last Monday, because I really don’t think that was anything but chance.’ Ellie filled Ursula in on the delivery of the lilies with its threatening message, the Sympathy Card, and wreath.
Ursula ate her salad, her eyes flickering this way and that, considering possibilities. ‘Have you checked with the police? Who’s still inside, and who’s out on bail?
‘I asked the police to do so. Mr Prior and his sons are both still in jail, as is their friend, the councillor. Mia’s ‘uncle’ Bob is dead. Which leaves—’
‘Mrs Prior. I can see her sending poisonous messages, but surely she’s not allowed anywhere near Mia, is she?’
‘She summoned me to say that she had Mia’s best interests at heart, which I beg leave to doubt. However, I don’t think it’s her. She’s got a nice big fish to fry, a wealthy businessman, and is moving out to the Barbican . . . to live under his “protection” no doubt.’
‘Miaow,’ said Ursula. ‘Though you’re probably right. Incredible to relate – since she’s as old as my mother – Mrs Prior is still a sex bomb, isn’t she? She reminds me of Mae West. A little.’
‘So who is doing this? Can you think of some hanger-on of the Prior crowd who’d want to upset Mia now?’
Ursula finished her last mouthful. ‘There’s one or two, but . . . no. They’re camp followers, good at obeying orders, but not exactly . . . there’s a different mindset behind this nastiness, isn’t there? A sympathy card, lilies, a wreath. Dan might know, or know who to ask.’ She contemplated the idea of asking Dan in silence. Finally, she shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can ask him.’
‘No, but I might. Mrs Collins said she’d pass on a message that I wanted to speak to him. He’s got a job as manager of the Health Club, you know.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Ursula, signalling to the waitress. ‘Two coffees? Oh, did you want something else? Sorry, I’m always jumping the gun.’
‘That’s fine. A latte.’ Ursula had always been a bossy boots and probably always would be. Luckily, her fiancé was one who could cope.
Ursula put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on them. A characteristic pose. ‘I suppose you could always ask Silly Billy. Stupid name. He’s not silly, really. Just . . . a skin too few? Mummy’s boy? He used to follow Mia around with his tongue hanging out, but he wasn’t part of our crowd, really. He might have noticed something, but . . . No, I don’t suppose he noticed anything. Not really bright enough, if you know what I mean?’
‘He was in love with Mia?’
‘I wouldn’t put it that strongly. “Love” implies . . .’ she thought about what the word love meant to her, and her expression softened. She shook her head. ‘No, he’s a pathetic little creature, worshipped her from afar. Might have got round to sending her a valentine card, perhaps. She was always kind to him, never brushed him off. He’s the only other person I can think of who might have spotted someone who wished her harm. Dan would know where to find him, I suppose.’
‘What’s his full name?’
‘Billy, William. Can’t remember.’ She finished her coffee and looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got to get out to Heathrow to meet the family. You’ll excuse me, won’t you? Let me know if I can do anything else to help.’
‘I’ll see you at the wedding rehearsal tomorrow evening.’
Ursula landed a kiss somewhere on Ellie’s cheek and fled.
THURSDAY AFTERNOON. . .
Worry was a killer. He was a killer. He’d killed the problem, stone dead. If only she’d agreed to lend him what he needed . . . but she’d been as tight-fisted as a miser. So she’d had to die.
Carefully he entered the numbers into his laptop. Checked them over. Sent.
Whizz! Waited a few minutes. Strode up and down. Considered what still needed to be done. He hadn’t left any traces, had he? No.
He returned to his laptop. Money received. His shoulders relaxed, and he breathed deep and hard.
Good. He’d made a killing there, too.
ELEVEN
Thursday afternoon
Ellie paid the bill and was j
ust wondering whether to take the bus or a taxi to the Health Club when her mobile phone trilled.
It was Thomas. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Ellie. Can you get back here, pronto?’
Ellie immediately thought the worst. ‘What’s happened? Someone’s hurt?’
‘We’re all fine, and Mr Balls tells me everything’s going to plan, but you’re needed.’
Thomas didn’t send out an SOS unless there was real trouble. ‘Ten minutes.’
Whatever could have gone wrong? Some precious piece of furniture smashed by workmen? Should she call a cab? No. It would be quicker to walk. She walked. The sun had come out, but the day was humid. Not the best day for walking fast. She told herself to take it easy, worse things happen at sea, nothing could be that traumatic if Thomas, Rose and Mia were all right. Of course, the house could be on fire. No, Thomas would have said so. Wouldn’t he?
She turned into her road and looked for fire engines. There were none. Well, good. She hadn’t really thought . . . Of course not.
A lorry backed out of her driveway. She couldn’t even be bothered to see what firm it was from, but took out her keys to open the front door. It had been double locked and bolted. Why? She hurried round to the kitchen. That door was also locked and bolted. She rapped on the door, and after a pause it was opened by Rose, who looked flustered but seemed to have the usual complement of arms and legs.
‘Inside,’ said Rose, unusually terse.
The kitchen was a large one but old-fashioned by today’s standards. Rose liked it that way, and who was going to argue with Rose? A pine table occupied the centre, and round it there were now grouped Thomas, Mia . . . and four boys whose ages Ellie estimated as seven to eleven. Eating sandwiches and drinking squash. Denis’s boys? Of course.
They turned blank faces to her, but didn’t speak.
Mia was idle, which was unusual for her.
Thomas had a large pot of tea in front of him and the largest of large mugs. He poured tea into a cup and handed it to Ellie, indicating that she sit down beside him.
Murder by Mistake Page 13