Murder by Mistake (6 page)

‘I
like
looking after Rose,’ said Mia, who was wearing yesterday’s clothes.

‘And I like looking after Mia,’ said Rose. ‘And now there’s a perfectly good shower room and loo down here, there’s no reason on earth why we shouldn’t please ourselves.’

Ellie threw up her hands. ‘I understand how it happened that Mia slept in your room last night, but Mia –’ playing the joker – ‘I don’t think your friend Ursula will think it a good idea. Sleeping in an armchair will give you a bad back, and that won’t help either of you. I realize you want to be near Rose, and Rose wants you near her. May I suggest that Mia sleeps in what was Rose’s old room upstairs, which is directly above her bed-sitter and which has a bathroom next door to it. If one of you needs the other, you’re within hailing distance.’

Silence while the two conspirators considered this offer. Finally Rose said, ‘Mia could always come down in the middle of the night for a little while, if she wanted to, and she could sleep with the door to the stairs open and a light on her room.’

Mia wriggled, but gave way. ‘We could try it, I suppose.’

Having won a temporary victory, Ellie tried not to show relief or pleasure. She helped herself to cereal. ‘Good. Now we have to plan what we do today. Ursula’s coming round some time, isn’t she? Will she go to the solicitor’s with you, or shall I? Also, don’t you have some kind of police liaison officer? Don’t you have to tell them that you’ve left your country retreat?’

‘I don’t think I want to go out today.’

‘I can understand that, but if Ursula went with you? Or I did?’

‘I feel a bit tired.’

‘So do I. If you give me the liaison officer’s details, I’ll get her to call here.’

Silence. ‘They did pass me on to someone when I left London, and she did call. My aunt told her I didn’t want to see her, that I wanted to get on with life without being bothered about all that, and I agreed. Honestly, I couldn’t see the point.’

‘I don’t think your aunt had your best interests at heart, do you? Give me the name of whoever it was, and I’ll see who it should be here in London.’

‘I’ve decided,’ said Mia, ‘that there is no way I can touch anything that man left me.’

Ellie used Thomas’s reasoning. ‘You’d sooner go on Social Security and live in a hostel somewhere, waiting for a place in a council flat?’

Rose clattered a plate of scrambled egg down in front of Ellie. ‘That she won’t do, not while I’ve a penny left in the bank.’

Mia reddened. ‘That’s silly. As if I would take money from you, Rose.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ellie. ‘We have to balance this and that, compensation against false pride, etcetera. By the way, Mia, I suspect your wardrobe needs replenishing. Shall we ask Ursula to buy you some new clothes, or shall Rose and I get something on approval for you?’

Rose eyed Mia’s fragile figure. ‘Size eight, I should think. We must make out a list. Marks & Spencer will let us have things to try on here and, if they don’t fit, we can take them back. Also, she needs a good haircut and a facial. Who do we know who could come to the house to do it for her?’

Mia went white. ‘You won’t leave me alone in the house, will you? Please?’

‘No, of course not!’ said Rose, who had clearly been thinking of doing just that. ‘No, no. Of course not,’ she repeated, meaning it.

‘If I go out, they’ll get me!’

Ellie’s mouth was full of scrambled egg and toast, but she knew panic when she heard it. ‘We’ll do our best,’ she said, indistinctly. ‘But you must help us, as well.’

Mia twisted a tendril of hair round a finger. ‘I know I’m being silly, but yesterday . . . If I’m to live my life as if every day might be my last . . . I tell myself to be brave, that it doesn’t matter if I die today . . . but how can I forget? I do feel safe here. At least, I think I do. But I wouldn’t want to be left in this big house all by myself.’ She brushed her hand across her cheeks. ‘Now tell me I’m being unreasonable.’

‘I don’t think you’re in any danger, honestly, but I’ll check with the police, ask their advice.’

‘Don’t make me leave, will you?’

‘Of course not, but you need to talk to that solicitor.’

A shadow of a smile. ‘Get him to wait on me here. Why not? He’ll come if he thinks I’ll let him handle everything for him . . . which I will, right up to the point that I dump the whole lot in the nearest cats home.’

‘I suppose I could try to get him here, but you can’t stay indoors for ever. May I suggest you talk to—’

‘Social services? I agree with my aunt about that. A lot of half-trained, overworked do-gooders. I need one of them like I need a hole in my head.’

‘I’m sure they’re not all like that, but . . . well, will you talk to Thomas about it? And before you start on about not being alone in a room with a man, think what you’re saying. Do you really imagine Thomas would take advantage of you?’

The girl put on a stone face, because her Uncle Bob had done just that. The girl couldn’t trust any man at the moment.

‘All right,’ said Ellie. ‘When Thomas blunders in for his breakfast – give him another five minutes because he had a long day yesterday – ask him if you can talk here in the kitchen, with Rose standing guard over you.’

Mia tried to smile, but her lips trembled. She nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

‘Fear is like a virus once it gets into your head,’ said Ellie, who should know. The horrors of yesterday were still hanging around, waiting for her to relax so that they could slip through into her conscious mind.

A sudden thought struck Mia. She grinned. ‘What I want to do today is to make some filo pastry. My aunt taught me how and stood over me till I got it right. My aunt was a wonderful cook. She gave me her book of recipes because her eyes aren’t good enough for her to see them any more. I suppose she’ll have to go into care now, won’t she? Not that I mind, really. Rose, may I make some filo pastry here today?’

Ellie understood that the girl was in denial. Denial was a nice country to live in, provided nothing broke through its boundaries to threaten you with reality. So let her make filo pastry. Let her make herself useful in the kitchen. It might help to settle her, make her feel safe.

Meanwhile . . . Ellie began to make a list. Phone the hospital about that brave man, Leontes, see if they had an address for him. Phone the police to see if she could find a liaison officer for Mia. Get her some clothes. ‘What clothes do you need, Mia?’

A shrug. ‘I’m all right as I am.’

No, she wasn’t. Ellie jotted down, ‘T-shirts, jeans. Underclothing.’ Also, Thomas must be told about Diana. Ouch.

Thomas arrived later than usual for breakfast, ate it on the run and departed, saying he’d lost a couple of days’ work and must catch up. He didn’t speak to Mia except to say, ‘Hi! All right?’ Ellie didn’t try to stop him leaving. Rose and Mia looked pleased that he’d not interfered with whatever they’d planned for that day.

Ellie went along the corridor to her office in the old morning room. There she found her assistant Pat, dealing with mail.

Ellie averted her gaze from the pile of post. ‘Small problem, Pat. Can I leave everything to you for a bit?’ Pat only worked part-time and expected Ellie’s full attention when she was around, but Pat wasn’t going to get it today, was she? Pat would probably sulk. Well, let her.

Pat rolled her eyes as Ellie reached for the phone and dialled the number of Ealing Hospital. She enquired about Leontes, who turned out not to have been named after a Shakespearian character, but to be a man called Leon T Spearman. He’d been discharged late last night, and no, the hospital couldn’t give out his home number. She wasn’t a relative, was she?

‘One more call, Pat,’ Ellie said, dialling again. She must speak to Maria urgently, not only because she was happily married to Diana’s first husband, Stewart, and was doing a great job bringing up little Frank, but also because she ran the cleaning service which Ellie used – and Ellie was going to need more help from them on Saturday. It was possible, of course, that Maria might already know about Diana’s second wedding and her plans to involve Frank, but it was best to make sure.

The line was engaged. Ellie left a message for Maria to ring her back.

What next? Ellie pushed today’s post away from her and turned to Pat, who was concentrating on her computer.

‘Pat, give me a minute. Change of plan, or rather extension of plan, for Saturday. Diana is getting married again and has arranged for us to hold her wedding reception here on Saturday afternoon – yes, truly! I had nothing to do with it, but the invitations have gone out. If Maria rings back when I’m out, would you fill her in and say I’ll ring her later?

‘Oh, and yesterday a man pushed Mia and me out of the way of a speeding car which went on to kill a young woman and leave her two children motherless. The man’s leg was caught by the car and there was a lot of blood. He’s been discharged from hospital. How do I find him? He saved my life, and Mia’s.’

‘Police, I suppose.’ Pat liked a good gossip, but she was evidently not pleased at Ellie’s refusal to attend to the morning’s post.

‘I suppose so,’ said Ellie, hating the thought of it. ‘Oh well, I’d better see if anyone’s available to talk to me.’ She picked up the phone, sighing.

Ellie asked for Detective Inspector Willis and was put on hold. She’d had various brushes with the DI in the past, and had learned to respect the woman’s professionalism, while aware that the compliment was not returned. Ellie deplored the woman’s abrupt manner and the variety of red dyes she used on her hair, while DI Willis clearly thought Ellie was a silly housewife who had nothing better to do than waste police time.

Well, if Ellie had wasted police time on occasion, she’d also helped to sort out one or two neighbourhood crimes, including those involving Mia’s family. DI Willis owed her the courtesy of a five minutes’ call, didn’t she?

Pat shoved some mail in front of Ellie, who tried to concentrate on it; with indifferent results. When Miss Drusilla Quicke, Ellie’s difficult but endearing aunt, had died, Ellie had inherited a fortune and a number of houses and apartments which were rented out. Ellie had put everything into a charity which was run by her with a board of trustees.

The housing stock was efficiently managed by Stewart, Diana’s ex-husband. And hadn’t Diana been furious about his being given the job! How Stewart had managed to survive marriage to Diana so well was something of a mystery, but he had done so almost unscathed; Ellie was very fond of him.

Stewart held as low an opinion of Denis the Menace – the Dirty Den of the Estate Agency world – as Ellie did. Which reminded her that she still hadn’t told Thomas about Diana’s latest plan to upset the course of their domestic happiness.

Ah, a policeman had come back to her on the phone with a message. The DI could spare Ellie a few minutes face-to-face at ten, if she put her skates on. She glanced at the clock, yelped, grabbed her handbag, said, ‘Must go!’ to Pat, and fled.

It wasn’t far to walk to the police station, and the exercise would do her good. A happy second marriage and a love of good food hadn’t done anything to reduce her waistline. Or Thomas’s. They really ought to go on a diet; but not perhaps until after the wedding. Weddings.

She was kept waiting at the station. Of course. She found an old envelope and started to make a list of things to do. Ring the solicitor. Ask Ursula’s opinion about Mia’s clothes. What sort of bridesmaid’s dress was the girl supposed to wear to the ceremony? And then . . . what next?

Ellie had her charge cards with her for major shopping, but could do with popping into the bank to get some cash. She couldn’t for the moment remember what they were supposed to be having for supper. Would the leftover cold chicken stretch to four people, especially when Thomas was one of the four? She rather thought not.

‘Mrs Quicke. Would you care to come through?’

Gracious me. Good manners for once? However, this wasn’t the DI speaking. It was WDC Milburn, a pleasant, robust young officer, whom Ellie had met before. Ellie was ushered into an interview room.

‘Mrs Quicke.’ DI Willis looked at her watch, impatience in every gesture. She’d tried a ginger hair dye this time. Oh well.

In her haste Ellie let her pen and the list she’d been making tumble to the table, and the DI picked it up. Prominent at the top of the list was the large figure eight which was, of course, Mia’s dress size.

Seeing this, the DI’s eyebrows went up. She glanced at Ellie’s waistline – which was nearer a size eighteen than an eight – before handing the paper back.

‘Important shopping to do today?’ said the DI, noting that Ellie had been concerning herself with such trivial matters as underwear and nightdresses.

Ellie put the list into her handbag and snapped it shut. Then realized the WDC was handing her the pen which she’d also dropped. Ellie’s colour rose. How incompetent they were making her feel! Well, someone had to look after waifs and strays like Mia, and that seemed to be Ellie’s job at the moment. The police’s job was to look after them, too. If necessary she would remind the DI of that.

‘Mia Prior,’ she said, plunging straight in. ‘Can you give me the name of her support officer?’

‘The Prior girl?’ The DI’s hard eyes glittered. ‘May I ask why?’

‘She was convalescing with an aunt in the country. She did receive a visit from someone in social services, but Mia’s aunt sent the woman away. Mia is now back in this district and staying with me, so I’d like to link her up with a professional who can help her adjust to daily life. Come to think of it, you probably haven’t heard that she was nearly run over yesterday in that road by the Town Hall.’