Murder in Time (18 page)

Another quick prayer should do the trick.
Well, Lord. How about it? Help needed. Ideas. You wouldn't want Thomas pilloried in the press, any more than I would, because he'd lose all his usefulness to you. Oh. Sorry. Not meaning to bully you …

That made her laugh. As if she could bully God!

She returned to her study and looked at the phone. The attack on Thomas had been launched because Gail had been forced to face up to the possible consequences of what had happened long ago. After she left, Gail would have wanted to warn her brother. Undoubtedly. Probably Spotty Dick as well.

What Gail had said to them had triggered the attack on Thomas.

So, let's see what Gail has to say about it now.

Ellie dialled Gail's surgery. No, said the receptionist: she couldn't speak to Doctor Gail. No, there was no free slot with her that day. Nor on the morrow. They were very busy. Was Ellie a patient of theirs? Because if not …

‘Please tell the doctor that Mrs Quicke rang and that we need to talk urgently, about a matter affecting her brother.' That should do it.

Ten minutes later, Gail rang back. ‘Yes? What? I'm very busy.'

‘Someone you spoke to last night has started a rumour that Thomas abused a young girl.'

‘What! No! Why …? You cannot be serious.'

‘Never more. Our only defence must be to tell the police what—'

‘No, no! You can't! Look, I'll come round as soon as … I have three more patients to see and then—'

‘Ring your brother and tell him to hold his horses.'

‘What! Ridiculous! No, of course I won't. I mean, what you are suggesting is absurd!'

‘Or was it Spotty Dick?'

‘I … He … Oh. You think …?'

‘Ring them both.'

Heavy breathing. ‘Will you promise me, will you swear that no harm will—?'

‘It's not up to me. Ring them, and ring me back when you've got them to—'

‘It wasn't Simon. I swear—'

‘Don't swear. You can't be sure which of them it was, can you?'

The phone went dead.

Mm. Well, that had gone well, hadn't it? Except it hadn't actually settled anything. She stared out of the window. It had stopped raining. Good. Time for a little stroll outside? She hadn't been out of the house all day and could do with popping round to the shops. She could check whether or not she needed anything for supper, and then perhaps …

She found her magnifying glass and looked up Simon Trubody in the telephone book. No entry. He'd be ex-directory, of course.

Ellie put the phone down and went to fetch her coat. If Simon wasn't available, she could always pop into the Town Hall and have a look at Spotty Dick. Well, why not?

The Town Hall had spread itself over several buildings. One had been designed by Gilbert Scott and was in monumental Victorian style, reminiscent of a baronial hall, all turrets and pinnacles. Another was in the brutalist fashion, all steel and concrete. A third was shaped like an old threepenny bit, eight sided, all windows and efficiency. Well, supposedly all efficiency, although Ellie rather doubted that a modern structure meant up-to-date practices. Only look at the muddle there'd been when she'd tried to pay their council tax in one go last year, instead of in ten instalments. Thomas usually paid the household bills, but he'd been away when they'd become due, and she'd tried … Oh, well. Some people have minds that can cope with bureaucracy and some haven't. Ellie had to admit that she hadn't.

Problem: in which building would she find Spotty Dick? She consulted the notes she'd made. Richard Prentice. Accountant working for the council. Divorced, no children.

When in doubt, ask. There was a reception desk, and she asked, ‘Mr Prentice, Accounts?'

‘Third floor.'

She took the lift up and asked again. Open-plan offices. Oh. She'd hoped Mr Prentice would have an office of his own, if he was middle management. She asked the woman at the nearest desk and was directed to the far corner.

She had to wonder at herself, marching into the lion's den, but she felt such a surge of anger that she was capable of daring any lion that day. How dare he traduce Thomas like this? HOW DARE HE! And then, would she know the man when she saw him?

But she did. Oh, yes. At the far end there was a well-padded and unhealthy-looking man with acne scars and glasses. A slug, seated at a desk. That would be Dick Prentice; divorced.

He had a visitor, who was dressed in an expensive, silk-mixture suit. He was big and beefy, with a thickening neck, and was standing over The Slug. She hadn't thought she'd recognize him, but now she realized she'd seen his picture in the local
Gazette
many a time. He was in politics, wasn't he? Naturally, he'd turn up to all sorts of civic affairs. Simon Trubody, Gail's brother and would-be Member of Parliament. A tough nut.

Dick Prentice was on the phone but, on seeing her bearing down on him, suspended the conversation.

‘What …?'

Ack! Jack had been right about the smell. Halitosis? Or unwashed clothes?

Ellie thumped her handbag on his desk to command his attention. Oh frabjous day, to act like a stroppy teenager for once. She looked them both over. ‘Simon. Dick. Well, this saves me a journey. I'm Ellie Quicke, by the way.'

Simon stared at her with narrowed eyes.

Dick blustered, ‘The devil you are! What do you think you're doing, breaking into my—?'

‘Oh, please,' said Ellie. ‘Let's dispense with the formalities, shall we? I'm really glad to catch you both together. Let's talk about conspiring to pervert the course of justice, shall we?' She drew up a chair and seated herself. ‘Now, gentlemen. Which of you is going to start?'

The Slug ended his call with a hurried, ‘Speak to you later.' He half rose from his chair and sank back again. He asked Simon, ‘Shall I get security to remove her?'

Which told Ellie – as if she'd needed confirmation – that in this matter Simon was the boss and Dick the servant.

Simon shook his head. So she was right about him being Top Cat.

She treated them to a ferocious smile. At least, she hoped it was ferocious. ‘Now, gentlemen – if I may so miscall you, as I don't think either of you have earned that title – which of you have broken the law recently? Or, perhaps, since I see you are so friendly, you did it together?'

Simon said nothing, but turned a narrow, laser beam of a glare on to Dick.

A film of sweat broke out on The Slug's brow. ‘I swear to you that—'

She said, ‘Don't swear, or I'll have to add “oath-breaker” to the other names I can call you. We all know you've broken several of the Ten Commandments, plus a few of the laws of the land, in your time. Swearing won't help.'

Simon lifted a hand to attract her attention. ‘Let me deal with this. Mrs Quicke, I fail to understand why you have forced your way in here without an appointment.'

‘Cloth ears, have you? Your sister warned you I was on the warpath, and you decided to pre-empt any strike I might take by making a false allegation against my husband, which, I may say, has thoroughly ticked me off. “Ticked off” is not a phrase I would normally use, but I think it is fully justified by the circumstances. Didn't Gail tell you that Vera refuses to press charges against you?'

‘She …' Dick bleated. But, after another narrow-eyed look from Simon, he subsided. The Slug's colour, Ellie was pleased to note, was none too good.

Ellie said, ‘Perhaps Gail didn't explain clearly enough. Vera. Refuses. To. Press. Charges. She never wanted to, even when it happened. She doesn't wish to do so now. You are perfectly safe from her. Of course, I don't agree with her decision. She was shamed, abused, beaten by her father, maligned to her friends, lost her chance of further education and her boyfriend, and was left alone to bring up, support and educate a child conceived in rape. Still, she doesn't wish to press charges. May I add that she's of a more forgiving disposition than I am?

‘Personally, I think you should be put in the stocks in the marketplace so that everyone you know may come and pelt you with rotten eggs and tomatoes. Or, come to think of it, how about tarring and feathering? I understand that the transgressor, after being tarred and feathered, is made to ride a rail out of town, which must be most uncomfortable, if not actively dangerous to health. I am really sorry that such archaic practices have gone out of favour.'

Simon said, calm of eye and demeanour, ‘She couldn't make it stick, anyway.'

‘You think not? We have the names of other people who witnessed what happened, and who are now prepared to speak about it.' That was stretching a point, but so what?

Dick ran a hand up his forehead. His hair was already thinning. ‘The thing is, Simon: Vera could always change her mind.'

‘True,' said Ellie. ‘She has at present no intention of doing so, but your actions might well force her to change her mind. Or, since you've taken pains to involve me in your affairs, I myself might force her to change her mind. This attack on my husband has made me very angry.'

Silence.

Simon turned away from her to look out of the window. Ellie waited, understanding he was the brains of the outfit. Such as it was.

Simon said, ‘You can't prove the story about your husband originated with either of us.'

Ellie leaned back in her chair. ‘By that, you mean that I can't prove you asked a woman to make a false declaration to the police about my husband, hoping it would stop me in my tracks. A volunteer for your political campaign, perhaps? If I took photographs of your employees and asked the police if they recognized the woman who laid the complaint, what would happen? I believe there are CCTV cameras installed at all police stations, and they would have caught her entering and leaving the building.'

Simon shrugged. So, it wasn't his idea to drag Thomas's name in the dirt? Ellie was confirmed in her guess when Simon shot a dark look at The Slug, who gulped. So it was he who had instigated the slander?

Dick squirmed. ‘She didn't give her own name or address. No official complaint can be acted upon without that.' So that proved it was he who'd set up the false witness.

‘Shut. Up.' Simon knew the best defence was to say absolutely nothing when accused.

Ellie said, brightly, ‘You know, you've picked the wrong target. As I said, of her own accord, Vera wouldn't wish to press charges. It is not in her best interests, as she sees it, to do so. I, on the other hand, will take on anyone who tries to make out that my husband abused a child.'

‘Perhaps,' said Simon, ‘an apology may be due to you?' He made that a question, still looking at Dick.

The Slug squirmed again. ‘Yes, yes. A mistake. Least said, etcetera. Let bygones be bygones and all that.'

‘I wish we could,' said Ellie. ‘Perhaps you are not aware what has happened to reopen the rape case? It's Abdi who's stirred up this whole mess. He wants his child by Vera and is prepared to go to extreme lengths to get him. You two are amateurs by comparison. Abdi has employed a private detective, who has come up with a statement from someone who says he witnessed Vera killing Dr McKenzie. The only way we can stop him is to prove Vera was out of it at the time.'

No reaction. They'd both heard the story before. Gail had been thorough in passing on what she'd heard.

Dick said, ‘Well, that's ridiculous, of course. But you must see that we can't risk our names being bandied about, and we will go to any lengths to prevent it.'

‘Any lengths? Would you go so far as murder? I can't see how else you can stop it. You'd have to get rid of –' she counted them off on her fingers – ‘Vera and her son, myself and my husband, Dan McKenzie, Jack the Lad and his girlfriend, Sylvia who rescued Vera after the rape, and others who have since heard all about it, such as my housekeeper Rose. Then there's Gail, your sister … Have I left anyone off the list? I really don't think you're set up for wholesale slaughter. No, you're going to have to live with the knowledge that other people know what you've done … and perhaps that's your punishment.'

Yes, she thought, suddenly realizing that that was indeed a punishment, and possibly worse than a trial and conviction. Thomas had known that. Of course! That's why he'd wanted to pray about it, rather than take action. And here she'd gone waltzing into the lion's den to stir up consciences which were already pretty active. Or were they? Perhaps not Simon's. And Simon, she realized now, was the one she needed to convince.

Dick's phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at Simon – who shook his head – and said, ‘No calls for the moment.' And put the phone down again.

Simon stroked his heavyweight chin. ‘You mentioned Abdi. I haven't seen or heard of him for years. You say he's found someone who saw Vera killing Dr McKenzie?'

‘So he says. It's nonsense, of course. Abdi paid someone to find a lever which would force Vera to give up the boy, and that's what this person has come up with. If he takes that accusation to the police, everything's going to come out. That's why we've got to find people who'll confirm the fact that she was raped, to get her off the hook for the murder.'

‘We can't give written statements. You must see that.'

‘I understand you don't wish to do so, but how otherwise are we to persuade Abdi not to use that threat—?'

Dick burst in, ‘But he was the first to abuse her!'

Ellie said, ‘I don't think so.
You
brought the drug to the party.
You
tried to give it to Gail, who suspected what it was and passed it to Vera. Who didn't suspect anything.
You
were the first on to her.'

Dick changed colour yet again. ‘No, I … Abdi first, then Raff Scott … I didn't want to … The others egged me on to …' His voice trailed away.