Murder in Time (7 page)

‘I heard she took advantage of a dying man—'

‘Your private detective, if that's who has been feeding you incorrect information, needs his ears syringing. Yes, he was dying and knew it. She loved him, cared for him, nursed him to the end. He didn't leave her much, but he asked me to keep an eye on her and to help her get the education she deserved, and that's what I'm doing. She is no slut. No whore. She is a good woman who's been dealt some terrible blows by fate but has made the best of what she's got.'

‘That's her story, is it? Well, we'll see what happens when we go to court. I hear the boy's been in trouble with the law already. That shows precisely how good she's been as a mother.'

Thomas said, ‘You don't like hearing the truth, do you? He was exonerated of all charges and helped to bring a couple of villains to justice. As for you, you rape an innocent young girl, refuse to help her when she discovers she's had your child, ignore her and your son for twelve years, and expect the courts to be sympathetic towards you? The boy is at a good school now and doing well.'

‘Go back to your private detective,' said Ellie, ‘and ask the right questions this time. Tell him to look elsewhere for a boy to adopt.'

His lips drew back over his teeth. ‘There is no one else of my blood.'

Ellie said, ‘You should have thought of that before you scattered your seed in so many different directions.'

‘That was then, and this is now. The boy will be fine, once he realizes what he is going to inherit. I must admit that at first I did wonder how costly it was going to be to pay off his mother, even if she did have a distinctly unsavoury past, but the evidence my man has turned up is more than just useful. Potentially, it's a knock out, don't you think?' He stood up, stretching, very much at his ease. ‘Do tell the girl that I'm willing to be generous, won't you? My solicitor says Vera hasn't a leg to stand on. Not that you'd wish this matter to go to court, any more than I would. I am sure that between us we'll be able to make Vera see reason. I'll be back tomorrow to make some preliminary arrangements.'

He got out a mobile phone, and said, ‘I need the car now.' Phoning his chauffeur?

Ellie didn't offer to let him wait for his car indoors, but opened the front door for him. It was beginning to rain. Good. Let him wait outside.

The clock in the hall chimed the hour. Was it only one o'clock? It felt like bedtime.

Rose hovered in the doorway to the kitchen quarters. A little brown wren, inquisitive but anxious. ‘What's that man doing here again? I said to him that you were out but he pushed in past me while the Tesco man was delivering, and then I went and fetched Thomas because I didn't want to leave him alone, and I thought about ringing Vera to say he was here, but then I thought I shouldn't spoil her day unless I had to.'

‘You did right, Rose.'

‘There's some soup for lunch and some of that quiche left over, if you fancy.'

‘Yes, in a minute.' Ellie returned to the sitting room, where Thomas was standing at the window, looking out.

He said, ‘We have to fight him, don't we?'

‘Do you doubt it?'

‘No.' He didn't sound sure of it, though.

‘I've heard three different versions of what happened that night … No, four if you count Mrs Dawes' comment. And none of them make any sense, including Abdi's.'

‘Would your policewoman friend help?' He answered his own question. ‘No, you can't ask her or she'd want to have Vera in for questioning about the murder.'

‘The murder must have happened before Lesley joined the force. She's a good friend, but I don't want to involve her unless I can think of a way of keeping Vera out of it. I'd like to ask her to look up the police records, but I'd have to be careful because her boss – who is as awkward as they come – would like nothing better than to annoy me by tossing a murder charge in our direction.' She tried to lighten the atmosphere. ‘You usually tell me not to when I want to look into a problem in the community, yet here you are, cheering me on.'

He pulled a face. ‘My first reaction was to say I was at your disposal, and then—'

‘You realized the magazine has to be put to bed next week, and you've hardly time to eat or drink before that. Which reminds me; Rose has rustled up some lunch for us.'

He followed her out to the kitchen. ‘Where will you start?' And to their housekeeper, ‘Prayers needed, Rose.'

Rose wrung her hands. ‘That's exactly what Miss Quicke has been saying to me, ever since yesterday when that man arrived on the doorstep without so much as a by your leave. She's been popping up all over the place, in the conservatory which is usual with her, and then in the back garden when I was out hanging up the dishcloths, and here in the kitchen with me last night. Gave me a bit of a fright, then. I thought it was the wireless, but it was her, saying that we've got to look after those that have taken refuge with us, here in this house. Which is a bit odd as I never thought she'd really taken to young Mikey, him being a bit of a loose cannon, as you might say, but she's adamant that he's in danger and we're to watch out for him specially, and there's a dish of beetroot salad instead of the quiche if you'd prefer it.'

‘Thank you, Rose,' said Ellie, giving the older lady a hug. ‘Trust me, I'm going to see what I can do to protect both Vera and Mikey.'

Thomas slurped soup.

Ellie collected the memo pad they used for shopping lists and started to make notes, speaking her thoughts aloud as she did so. ‘Questions to ask: what time did the party start, and who was invited? How did the gatecrashers know about the party? How many of them were there? Did they bring drugs with them, or did they come looking for them?'

Rose put some soup at her elbow. Ellie had a couple of mouthfuls, then said, ‘The police must have asked these questions, before. After twelve years, the partygoers may have scattered to the four winds. How on earth can we get answers to them now?'

Thomas looked at his watch. ‘I mustn't be long. So much to do.'

Ellie wondered, ‘At what point in time did everyone arrive? Vera would have been there early, I suppose, as Dan's girlfriend. Who was it who helped her home? Who gave her the drugged drink, and who raped her? Apart from Abdi. I don't think she knows.'

Another glance at his watch. ‘Some of the other guests may be able to enlighten you.'

‘Abdi's not going to tell us anything which might cast doubt on his carefully edited version of events.' She attacked her soup, thinking. ‘I wonder, at what point did the police arrive? Who called them, and what did they do when they did attend the scene? Was anyone arrested? Taken away for questioning? Was it drug dealing that triggered a call to the police?'

Rose cleared their soup plates away. ‘You can find out, Ellie, if anyone can.'

Ellie served up pieces of quiche. ‘Vera says she woke up when the police arrived and that the guests had nearly all disappeared by that time. Vera must know who it was who helped her. Probably a pillar of the community by now. It's just occurred to me to wonder what Dan was doing all that while. Was it he who called the police? We've been told the parents were away for the evening. Why? And for how long?'

Thomas joined in for once. ‘What time did they get back, and what happened then?'

‘A neighbour was supposed to be at loggerheads with the doctor about a hedge which got torn down or planted in the wrong place. They were angry enough to go to law about it. I wonder what they were doing that night? And then, if anything that Abdi's man has dug up is correct, there was some sort of fight when the doctor returned home. This must have been after the police investigating the gatecrashers had gone. Long after the guests had disappeared … or was it? It would have been useful to talk to the good doctor. So inconvenient that he died.'

‘As did Vera's father and mother.' Thomas attacked his plateful. ‘Mm. Good quiche. What's in it?'

‘Asparagus. Twelve years on … Memories play us false. Especially inconvenient ones. Dan might have been a right raver at eighteen, up till all hours, just passed his driving test, hormones rampaging, a nuisance to all and sundry … He might well be an assistant bank manager by now, with a wife, a mortgage and two point four children. The girls who were at the party, ditto.'

Thomas said, ‘You need to speak to Dan first, don't you?'

‘If I can find him, yes.'

‘Amen,' said Rose. ‘And I'll try to remember to put in a spot of praying this afternoon, though it looks as if it might be sunny and I was thinking of deadheading some roses if the rain keeps off.'

Rose hardly moved out of the kitchen nowadays, and Ellie didn't take her plan to work in the garden seriously.

Ellie was talking to herself more than the others. ‘Dan McKenzie, where are you? You didn't follow your father into the practice, and you're not in the phone book. Are you working in a hospital somewhere? What has become of you?'

‘Cycling from John o' Groats,' said Rose, putting the dirty plates into the sink instead of the dishwasher. ‘Land's End to John o' Groats. I hope he's as fit as he thinks he is. It's terrestrione, that's what it is. Always wanting to show off their muscles.'

Thomas was amused. ‘Did you mean “terrestrial”, as in protecting territorial rights, Rose? Or “testosterone”, as in the male desire to prove themselves alphas in society …? Though I suppose it could be both, in the case of cycling.'

Ellie said, ‘What was that, Rose? You know where Dan McKenzie is?'

‘He was in the local paper last week. Don't you remember? You'd sent some money to his school for something, and you thought it was interesting that one of the teachers was now doing something to help others. There's far too many small charities, in my opinion. All wanting to help some minority group which may be very deserving for all I know, but if they can't raise enough money to make a difference then what I say is, the money should go to the bigger charities that know how to spread a little kindness around.'

Ellie hit her forehead. ‘Was that him? I did send some money to a school, yes, to help their choir to go to some event or other. But his name didn't mean anything to me then, and what he did wasn't about music, was it?'

Rose was far away. ‘I remembered it because I had a neighbour once was called MacSomething who was into sport, but I think that was motorbikes. I thought it might have been him, but it wasn't. McSweeney? McCartney?'

Ellie scrabbled in the pile of newspapers which had been set aside for recycling. When did the dustbinmen come? Thursday. And this was Wednesday, so last week's local paper should be here somewhere. Or not, if it had been used to line the waste food bucket … Hopefully not. ‘Ah.' She drew it out of the pile and smoothed out the creases on the table.

She turned pages. No. No … goodness gracious! Every week there seemed to be someone objecting to something … Probably quite right to do so, but … ‘Ah, here it is.'

A photo of a youngish man wearing goggles and a cycling helmet, dressed in the usual Lycra and sitting on a good-looking racing bike. He was holding out a large cheque to a pudding-faced man in a decent suit. ‘He was raising money for Help for Heroes. Wounded soldiers, that sort of thing.'

Thomas looked over her shoulder. ‘From here to eternity, or Land's End to John o' Groats. Which end is he starting at?'

‘He's done it,' said Ellie, reading further on. ‘Collected his money and handed it over. I suppose he was wearing cycling gear because it made a better photo opportunity for the papers. I can't tell what he looks like from the picture. It says he's the Deputy Head of the new secondary school. Feather in his cap. And yes, that
is
the school that I sent the money to.'

Thomas said, ‘He lives in Perivale, Middlesex. Next door to, but not
in
, Ealing.'

‘“Father of one,”' said Ellie. ‘Why do they always say that, as if it's the most significant thing about them? Or,' she corrected herself, ‘maybe it is. But it doesn't mention his wife, and she's not in the picture. Maybe she doesn't approve of his taking half term off to cycle the length of the land.'

‘Well, at least you know where to find him now.'

E
llie opened the gate. It squeaked. Or rather, it squealed.

She imagined that it was protesting at being opened. It was a good enough squeal for a movie featuring vampires, but this part of London was a far cry from Hammer Horrors. It was a road of nineteen sixties semi-detached houses, on the small side but well-kept. Pebble-dashing was everywhere, and most people had concreted over their gardens in order to park their cars off the road.

Dan's garden still had some plants in it, mostly roses. No car in the garden, but there were some parked in the road. Ellie had come by bus, which had dropped her off almost outside his house, but if Dan were a cyclist then he probably didn't bother with public transport.

Ellie was puzzled. She hadn't imagined Dr McKenzie's son living in this part of London. This was a world of cheap furniture from Ikea, where holidays were taken in a caravan, at one of the cheaper Spanish resorts, or back in Pakistan. These houses were tiny with thin walls, and they all looked alike. They were a world away from the solid, five or six bedroom house in which Dan McKenzie had been brought up. There would be no swimming pool and garage here. Perhaps a paddling pool in the back garden for the child?

The school had given her his address. Normally, they wouldn't have given it out, but her recent gift had opened doors, and when she'd said she wanted to meet Mr McKenzie before deciding whether or not to add something to the amount he'd raised on his recent bike ride, they'd arranged for her to call on him at home after school.