Murder My Neighbour

by Veronica Heley

  In this case, she had to admit that she’d been about as stupid as you could get. Fancy inviting a strange young man into the house and letting him walk off with their belongings!

  It made her go hot and cold all over.

  A thought. Perhaps Thomas could spare the time to be with her when the police came? They would never dare to treat him with the disdain – amounting to contempt – that they showed her. Particularly the policeman Ellie had most unfortunately referred to as ‘Ears’ after their first meeting, because he did have a pair of large, red ones. Well, that had gone down like a lead balloon. If only someone hadn’t seen fit to report her gaffe to him . . . but they had. And she knew that they had. And he knew that . . .

  Oh well. On with the day. It promised to be another fine, bright day, if perhaps a trifle on the warm side. A light summer dress would be in order.

  Thomas’s side of the bed was empty since he was an early riser. He had usually showered, dressed and made his way along the corridor to his Quiet Room before Ellie managed to open her eyes. He would spend time with his bible and God, and appear downstairs ready to cook breakfast for all of them if Rose were not up yet – and of late she hadn’t been.

  Mia was another slowcoach in the mornings. Ellie understood that completely. Sometimes, if Thomas were away on one of his lecture trips, Ellie and Mia would prepare and eat breakfast in complete silence.

  Mia would soon be gone. Ellie was delighted that the girl felt able to move on, of course, but they would miss her.

  Ellie sat on the edge of the bed, considered getting down on her knees to pray and decided against it.

  Dear Lord, please forgive me for not kneeling. I’m feeling creaky this morning. I hope you don’t mind. I could do with some courage today. You know what I’m up against. What am I going to do about Diana? Suppose I sold off part of this great house . . . ? But then it wouldn’t be our home any more. I could mortgage it, I suppose, but how could I afford the repayments? I couldn’t.

  Then there’s Rose . . .

  And an interview with the police, which I can’t see being pleasant. If you could see your way to prompting me, so that I don’t make a complete fool of myself . . . ? Though I suppose that really doesn’t matter, does it? I am what I am, and I can only do my best. Apologies. Feeling sorry for myself. Stupid. Take no notice.

  It’s a lovely day, I see. Thank you for that.

  The roses in the Pryce garden yesterday – what a delight.

  I must get on with things, mustn’t I? Thanks for listening.

  There was a wail from Frank’s room. He’d probably woken in alarm, wondering where he was . . . and then remembered.

  There was a snuffling at her bedroom door, and Frank shot in. He dived into bed with her, and clung. There, there! He was far too thin and anxious for his age. She held him tight. There, there. She checked, but he didn’t seem to have wet the bed. Praise be.

  If she kept the thought of Diana locked away at the back of her head, she might get through the day all right. One thing at a time. Soothe Frank off to school and give Stewart a progress report on how his son was doing . . .

  Ellie tidied the sitting room. She cut and arranged some more flowers to replace the peonies, which were past their best. She darted into the kitchen to check on Rose and Mia, who said they were perfectly all right, thank you, and what was all the fuss about? Rose was developing some spectacular bruises, but said she’d had a good night.

  The gardener came and complained about the mutilation of his flower bed. Ellie gave him a Look and said that if he’d tied the rambler rose back when it had first come loose, Rose wouldn’t have had to put her life in danger by going up a ladder, so would he please see to it before he mowed the lawn that day. He said that that was all very well, but he wasn’t Mr Whip-it-Quick, was he? And what did she expect when she was only paying him for four hours a week?

  ‘I expect value for money, that’s what,’ said Ellie, folding her arms at him. He stumped off, muttering to himself. The cat Midge stalked past her to leap on to the staging in the conservatory, which the sun was heating up nicely.

  The moment her hands were idle, Ellie found herself replaying yesterday’s dramas in her head – which did her no good at all. Worrying didn’t get you anywhere. She knew that. Of course she did. Which didn’t stop her doing it.

  She still hadn’t told Thomas about Diana’s visit, and she had to do so, didn’t she? He had his own worries, something about a contributor to the magazine? She didn’t want to disturb him.

  The front doorbell rang. Ellie went to look through the peephole in the door and recognized the policeman who was standing outside, fidgeting from one foot to the other. Of course, it would be ‘Ears’.

  Ellie told herself he couldn’t kill her.

  With him was a female detective constable, by the name of Milburn. Ellie recognized her, too. She’d proved quite human in the past.

  Thomas had said he’d stop work to be with her if she really needed him, but he was expecting a difficult visitor that morning, so if she could manage . . . ? Ellie braced herself and opened the door to let the police in.

  Ears looked round about him, much as the Pryce boy – if that was his name – had done the day before. ‘A big place for a woman on her own.’

  ‘There’s four of us living here at present, five if you count my grandson who often stays overnight.’

  Ellie led the way to the sitting room and offered tea or coffee. Both declined.

  DC Milburn took out her notebook, but Ears strolled about, hands in pockets to emphasize his superior status. ‘So you had a visit from a con artist? Weren’t you aware that they’re on the lookout for elderly women living alone in big houses?’

  Ellie didn’t like being called ‘elderly’ when she was only in her early sixties. ‘I wasn’t alone. Our housekeeper was in as well, but unfortunately she’d had a fall so wasn’t feeling quite the thing.’

  Ears had his usual chip on his shoulder. He probably thought anyone who employed live-in staff was a bloated capitalist and ought to be strung up from the nearest lamp-post. He wouldn’t have believed Ellie if she’d told him Rose had not been asked to take on the job of housekeeper, but had insisted on staying on to do it after Ellie’s ancient aunt had died.

  Ears had a sneer on his face and in his voice. ‘So what was this chap’s spiel, then? He found out the name of some old dear in the neighbourhood and tried to pass himself off as a relative? He asked for money, of course.’

  ‘Well, yes. But he did seem worried about his great-aunt. He’d called on the retirement home where she was supposed to be living, and they denied all knowledge of her.’

  ‘Or so he said.’ An unpleasant tone.

  Ears thought she’d been taken in by a sob story, and perhaps she had. Ellie felt her colour rise. ‘So he said. Yes.’

  ‘Well, it’s clear enough. I doubt if you’ll see your valuables again. Been hocked before nightfall, I expect. To pay for drugs, of course.’

  ‘I did wonder if he were into drugs. He certainly danced around a lot, but he also smoked. Do drug addicts smoke cigarettes as well as take drugs? I didn’t think they did.’

  ‘As you say, what do you know about it?’ He really was a rude young man.

  Ellie tried to keep calm. ‘Of course, you know more about it than I do, and it’s true that I wouldn’t really know what a drug addict looks like. I thought at first he was on edge because he was worried about his great-aunt. Then I thought he was in a state because he was desperate for money. I’m pretty sure that’s why he’s after his great-aunt. I mean, she does seem to be missing, but . . . The only thing is, if he is on drugs he can’t be very far gone because he’s taken great care of his appearance.’

  A condescending smile. ‘As you say, you wouldn’t really know what anyone on drugs looked like.’ His mobile phone rang. He whipped it out, listened for a few seconds, and shut it off. ‘Well, duty calls. Something more important, I’m afraid.’ He was Mr Sarcasm himself. ‘I�
��ll leave DC Milburn here with you to take any details you can recall, and no doubt we’ll be in touch when we’ve caught the man.’

  He didn’t really think they were going to catch him, that much was clear. As he would say, ‘Another con job. End of.’

  Ellie showed Ears out and returned to DC Milburn, who smiled at her in a completely normal, woman to woman, way. Ellie smiled back. ‘Tea or coffee? And would you mind if I just popped in on Rose, who’s not feeling too good today? Falling off a ladder at her age . . .’

  ‘Climbing a ladder at any age,’ said the DC. ‘I get vertigo.’

  Ellie smiled. ‘I’m all right on ladders up to the fourth rung, then I cling on tight, close my eyes even tighter, and inch my way back down again.’

  Rose had got herself dressed and moved as far as ‘her’ armchair in the kitchen; or rather, Mia had helped get her there. Now they were sitting together happily going over some old recipe books, planning future meals and making a shopping list.

  Ellie would have suggested she and the DC might sit outside, but the gardener was mowing the lawn so they returned to the sitting room, which was cool enough that early in the day.

  ‘This is a lovely room.’ The policewoman looked around her, relaxing.

  ‘I am fortunate. But not lucky, yesterday. I know your superior officer has made up his mind that my caller was a con man. May I tell you exactly what happened and what makes me think he wasn’t just that?’

  DC Milburn eyed Ellie over the rim of her mug of coffee. ‘Our chief super says you’ve a feeling for villainy. Of course, she doesn’t like it when you report some ghastliness or other, but she has to admit you’ve a nose for crime.’

  Ellie blushed. ‘Why, thank you. I know I haven’t got a trained mind or anything, and probably don’t spot all sorts of things that professionals would, but I do notice this and that, and I made some notes you might like to see.’

  She went through the notes she’d made the night before, concluding: ‘The thing is, would your usual con man have such an outlandish appearance? Wouldn’t he want to be unmemorable? I mean, this young man had brutally short hair but it had been cut by a good barber, it wasn’t a home-made job. Also, he had rings in his ears, his eyebrow and his lip.’

  ‘I must admit, I can’t recall a con man looking like that. But an opportunist thief . . .’ The DC shrugged.

  ‘Well, what about his car? It was bright yellow. Not a lemon yellow, but a deep egg-yolk colour like custard powder.’

  ‘You didn’t get the licence number?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What make was it?’

  Ellie shook her head.

  ‘You didn’t notice.’

  ‘I hardly know one make from another. When Thomas says, “Look at that Merc!” I don’t know which car he means.’

  ‘Well, was it a small car?’

  ‘Not like a Mini, but yes; smallish. I only caught a glimpse as I closed the door, remember.’

  ‘Was it built like a beetle?’

  ‘Now I do know a Volkswagen when I see one. No, it wasn’t. It had the normal up and down silhouette. Not an estate car. No sticky-out back.’

  ‘Two door or four?’

  Ellie concentrated. ‘Four, I think; but I wouldn’t like to swear to it. It had been recently cleaned, no dirt splashes. There was something hanging from the mirror at the front? I might be wrong about that.’

  ‘You’re doing well. Any stickers on the windows, or at the back?’

  ‘You mean notices like Baby on Board, or those screens they put on windows to shield children from the sun? No, I don’t think so. I’m a poor witness, I’m afraid.’

  ‘If I got some pictures of different makes of car, would you look to see if you could identify this one?’

  ‘I could try.’ Both of them knew there was little likelihood of her succeeding.

  The DC looked over her notes, frowning. ‘He certainly doesn’t sound like the usual run of con men, but I suppose . . . ?’

  ‘He convinced me that his great-aunt did live at that big house and that he’d bought some Liquorice Allsorts for her.’

  ‘Liquorice Allsorts?’ The DC smiled. ‘Yes, you’d think he’d talk about a box of Cadbury’s Milk chocolates if he were a con man.’

  ‘Or Thornton’s, something expensive for an elderly relative you were hoping to tap for a loan. He rang true when he said he was desperate for money. I don’t know whether I believed him or not about the sister and her partner and all the rest. He might even have been telling the truth about working in the bedding department of a big store.’

  ‘We can’t ring round every department store asking if they know him when we don’t even know his name. He was probably lying, anyway.’

  ‘But his appearance . . . ?’

  The DC sighed. ‘Perhaps it was his first venture into this sort of crime? I sympathize, I really do, but we haven’t the manpower to follow up every lead in this sort of case. The best we can do is to put his details and a note of what you’ve lost into circulation and see if anything turns up. If he tries again, we’ll be sure to hear about it. I’ll give you a police report number, which you’ll need for the insurance people. I assume you are insured?’

  Ellie let her visitor out. Ears had taken the car, of course, and the girl would have to walk back to the station. Not that it was all that far.

  Thomas materialized from his office. ‘Satisfactory?’

  ‘The police think it was just another con artist.’ Ellie wanted to hit something. Hard.

  ‘Annoying. Are they going to follow up on the lost lady?’

  ‘Did I even mention it? Yes, I did. In passing. But I’m not even a member of her family. In fact, I don’t think I’d know her if I saw her in the street.’ She shook her head. ‘Honestly, I can see their point of view. I was very silly to let the boy into the house in the first place, and it’s my own fault that he stole from us.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. What about Hoopers, the estate agency? Did they give you an address where Ms Pryce can be found?’

  The doorbell rang. ‘I’ll take it,’ he said. ‘I’m expecting someone.’ He didn’t look happy about it, but went off to answer the door.

  Ellie stormed off down the corridor to her office and banged the door behind her. There were times when . . . men could be so irritating . . . hadn’t she got her hands full at the moment, what with Rose . . . and Mia must be encouraged to leave them, but it was going to be difficult to manage without her . . . and as for Diana . . . Don’t think about Diana. That was one problem too far.

  She must talk to Thomas about it soon.

  Ellie sat down at her desk, pushing away the pile of paperwork which her part-time secretary had left for her to deal with. Well, if Thomas was too busy to help, and the police thought her an idiot, she would have to set about finding the thief herself. It shouldn’t be too difficult.

  First, she rang Stewart on his mobile phone. ‘Stewart, it’s Ellie here . . . No, no problem with Frank. As I told you, he went off to school quite happy, said it was football this afternoon after school and he’s looking forward to that. How the young can keep chasing a ball around a field in this heat, I don’t know. Have you spoken to your solicitor yet about Diana?’

  A sigh. ‘I have. He needs all the paperwork from the time of the divorce. My darling wife took the news bravely. She reminded me that I’d put the deeds of this house in her name, which is true and means Diana can’t force us to sell. How about you?’

  ‘I’m going to have to talk to Thomas about it. I’m ringing about something different. We took a walk round by the Pryce house last night, and Thomas disinterred a rather battered estate agent’s board from the undergrowth. Hoopers. I think I ought to know the name, but . . . You know everyone round here in that line. Do you know anything about them?’

  ‘Doing well, branches all over West London. It makes sense that the Pryce house should have gone to them.’

  ‘I’d like to find out more about it.’

 
‘You said you weren’t interested.’

  ‘The vegetable garden’s being worked for food; the house is empty but there’s no attempt currently being made to sell it. An unsatisfactory situation, don’t you think?’

  ‘A messy situation, but I can’t see—’

  ‘What it’s got to do with me? I know, Stewart. I know. We had a caller who said he was related to the old lady and went off with some of our valuables. I’ll tell you all about it some time. If I disappear you’ll find me floating in the pond in the deserted garden, chanting something from Shakespeare about never telling her love.’

  She caught herself up and laughed. ‘Sorry, Stewart. I don’t know what’s got into me today.’

  A cautious tone. ‘Is Rose all right?’

  ‘So so. Mia’s looking after her. But Mia really ought to be packing to leave, so that’s another problem. I may have a word with your wife, see if she can find someone to come in to look after Rose for a few weeks till she’s better.’

  ‘My wife’s not working today – it’s the end-of-term nursery show and the children are in it – but her assistant will be there, and I’m sure she’ll be able to help.’ Apart from looking after Stewart and the children, his wife owned the cleaning agency which looked after Ellie’s house and many others in the area.

  ‘Which reminds me,’ said Ellie. ‘Rose told me some gossip about the Pryce woman leaving, which I seem to recall she got from one of my cleaners. No, it’s gone right out of my head. Sorry, I’m not quite myself today.’

  Stewart was amused. ‘It’s the heat. It’s getting to me, too.’

  Ellie held back a sigh. ‘I’d better ring the agency then.’

  She rang off and phoned the agency. ‘Ellie Quicke here. Can you spare a moment? It’s Rose, our housekeeper. She fell and hurt her wrist, nothing serious, but she’ll have to rest for a bit, and our dear little lodger, who’s been so good to her, is supposed to be moving out to a place of her own. Do you have someone on your books who could come in every day for a while . . . ?’