Murder in Style (18 page)

‘N-no. Probably not quite as …' Ray flapped his hands.

Ellie sighed. ‘I suspect you probably owe a bit more than that, or the gentleman here wouldn't be so anxious to steal your wife's jewellery. Well, thirty-four thousand is a nice round sum, and probably more than he expected to get off you. Now, the wording. I don't particularly want to bring a solicitor into this, but it has to cover all eventualities. What do you think, Aidan?'

‘Gambling debts?' Aidan nodded. ‘I'd heard.' He picked the businessman up without apparent effort, propelled him to the table and dumped him on a chair, which he pushed right up to the board so that the man couldn't easily wriggle out from under.

Aidan picked up the pen and paper. ‘Your name and address for starters.'

He was left-handed? Well, doctors' signatures were never legible, were they?

Ray tottered over to the table and, in a low voice, dictated the details which Aidan duly wrote down.

Ellie opened the bag of goodies long enough to see that the contents had been taken from the safe. ‘Trixie, do you know the combination of the safe? I think it might be a good idea to put all this stuff back.'

‘Um, yes.' Trixie pressed her hands to her eyes. ‘Mum did tell me once, but I've forgotten. She's got it written it down in her diary.'

‘Set a new one,' said Aidan, multitasking as he wrote to Ray's dictation.

Ellie took the picture off the wall. The safe door had not been shut properly, so she opened it up and stacked the goodies back where they'd come from.

‘Under duress!' said the businessman. ‘This is not legal.'

‘Three witnesses to say that you signed of your own free will,' said Aidan, smiling. ‘Or, of course, we could always call the police and give you in charge for attempted theft.'

The businessman almost shouted, ‘That won't get you anywhere! I know the chief inspector of this division socially.'

Aidan retorted, ‘The police inspector of this division is my uncle. I know him socially, too.'

Excellent genes! Now, should I use the combination which Poppy had listed in her diary, or think up a new one?

‘Sign here,' said Aidan, pushing the paper towards Ray. ‘No, no. Read it first. You're giving him your watch and your car in full payment, etc., etc.'

‘I still have his IOUs,' said the businessman, perking up.

‘This paper covers all IOUs up to and including today's date,' said Aidan. ‘Of course, if you can entice him back after this and he plays and loses again, then that's your look-out, because you know he hasn't anything left to play with.'

‘Never again.' Ray shuddered.

Ellie wasn't sure she believed him. Gamblers couldn't give up the addiction as easily as that. She said, ‘Please note that his family won't be bailing him out again.'

‘No, they won't,' said Trixie. ‘Aunt Juno hates gambling and so do Gramps and Gran. No one else has any money in this family.'

Aidan gave his pen to the businessman. ‘Sign, please.'

‘Give me your car keys, and I will.' His eyes shifted this way and that, looking for a way out and not finding it.

They waited while Ray retrieved his bunch of keys from the hall, disentangled one and handed it over. The businessman signed. Next, Ray.

Then Trixie, and Aidan as witnesses. Finally, Ellie put her signature on the bottom.

Aidan retrieved his pen, and said, in a cheerful voice, ‘Have you a photocopy machine in the house, Trixie? No? Right. Well, let's take piccies on our smartphones, shall we? That way, we will all have a copy of what's been done. Me first.'

Ellie grimaced. She got out her phone. It wasn't an up-to-date one. It wasn't an ‘I' or an ‘E' or whatever it was they used nowadays. It certainly wasn't ‘smart', being slightly chipped, and there was a smear on it which might be butter or possibly baked beans, from when she'd left it on the table while making lunch the other day. She held it out to Aidan. ‘I'm not sure I've got a camera on this?'

To give him his due, he didn't even snigger. ‘Not to worry. I've got it on mine. Now Trixie, your turn.'

Trixie stumbled over to the table and took a photo. She was ashen pale under her make-up. Her lipstick looked garish in contrast.

‘Now, Ray. You'll want your own copy.'

Ray started. ‘Oh. Yes. What have I done with …? He fumbled in his pockets and produced an up-to-the-minute phone. As he held it out to Aidan, the businessman snatched it out of Ray's hand, wriggled himself out of the chair, charged out of the room, across the hall, and was through the front door before anyone else could move.

Actually, Ellie thought that nobody had tried very hard to stop him. They heard a car start up outside.

‘My car,' said Ray, anguished. ‘He's taking my car. Stop him, somebody.'

Nobody moved.

‘Splendid,' said Aidan, pocketing his pen. ‘Who's going to keep that all-important paper receipt? Trixie?'

Trixie took the receipt from him. Her colour was improving. She even tried to smile. ‘Now I know how to act fear. I did well, didn't I, Aidan?' She did the little-me-looking-up-at-big-strong-hero bit rather well.

‘Sure,' said Aidan, smiling in amiable fashion, but not taking the bait. ‘Now, what about our tea break?'

Trixie laid her hands on his arm, and pressed up against him in approved sex-kitten fashion. ‘I was so frightened. I could do with a cuddle.'

Aidan freed himself with a smile. ‘My inner man is screaming for food. I'm on nights, remember.'

‘I'll see what I can do to rustle up some food,' said Ellie, thinking she might not be able to master an iPhone or whatever it was, but that she did know how to make a cup of tea. She wasn't particularly surprised when Aidan followed her out to the kitchen. She said, ‘How many teas and how many coffees?' She put the kettle on.

‘Aidan West,' he said, proffering his hand.

‘Ellie Quicke.'

He nodded. ‘I recognized you from the description I was given. LOL. It doesn't mean Laugh Out Loud, but Little Old Lady with diamond eyes.'

‘Clemmie?' said Ellie, hoping against hope.

Aidan grinned. ‘Quite something, isn't she?'

‘You are her driving instructor?'

‘Perish the thought. Though I have sat with her for practice sessions. She is an excellent driver and, unlike me – who had three goes at it – should pass the test first go.'

‘I'm sure she will. You were Trixie's boyfriend at one time?'

‘A friend dragged me along to one of her parties. I met Clemmie there and that was it. Hooked for life.' He seemed to mean it, too.

She said, slowly, not knowing how much he knew, ‘Clemmie is in trouble.'

A frown. ‘I know. She won't talk about it. She says everything will be all right when her mother returns.'

‘I'm afraid that may be too late. Her father, Gordon. Er, you know about him, yes? Yes, of course you do. Not my idea of a cuddly daddy. Nor yours, either, I should think. Well, anyway, Gordon says he's going to the police on Monday morning to accuse her of theft and murder.'

He didn't even blink. ‘Then she'll need all the help we can give her, won't she, Mrs Quicke?'

Ellie thought he was a lovely man. ‘Let's feed the five thousand, and then be on our way, right?'

A
idan offered Ellie a lift in his car. She'd imagined him in something large and solid, like himself, but he handed her into the battered two-stroke. ‘Apologies. My own car's in the garage. This is the one my mother uses when she's shopping locally. She has a “thing” about parking meters, she only has to see one to drive into it … but she's a brilliant surgeon.'

When he got in, the little car sagged. Ellie took a firm grip of the safety belt, and hoped for the best.

He glanced at his watch. ‘Where are we going? I'm on night duty and have to eat first. Otherwise, I'm at your disposal.'

‘Magpie's office. I've got Clemmie's phone number somewhere. I'll ring her, see if she's still there and will let us in. Otherwise, I'm hoping Celine at the shop has got a key. I need to check on something.' She managed to find the number, phoned and got hold of Clemmie, who said, ‘Yes, I'm still here, but about to leave.'

‘Can you hold on for five minutes and let me in?'

‘Why?'

‘Taxes,' said Ellie. ‘Cheating on. Possibly a second set of books?'

‘Ah-ha.' Clemmie clicked off.

‘Taxes?' said Aidan, negotiating a roundabout at speed. ‘None of those women at The Magpie would. You're after Ray?'

‘Possibly.' Ellie used her phone again. ‘Thomas? Yes, I'm on my way back to The Magpie. What did you discover at Harrison's?'

It sounded as if Thomas were walking home as he took the call. ‘About what we'd been told. They ripped a customer off. She'd run an old banger into the ground, wasn't sure it was worth repairing, took it to them for an estimate. They said it would cost X. She told them to go ahead, but that if they found it was going to cost more, she wanted them to get her approval before they went ahead and did it. They didn't ask her approval but went ahead and did the work. The bill was double their estimate. She was furious, especially since the repair only lasted a fortnight. She gave me the name of a friend of hers with a similar story; estimate for X and charge double.'

Ellie said, ‘Uh-huh. Did you buy some cheese?'

‘A couple of … well, you know. A bit of this and a bit of that.'

They'd be eating cheese for a week. ‘Is Mikey still with you?'

‘He got a phone call from a friend, went off to play some game or other with him. On the computer. Chess, I think. He said something about a sleepover.'

‘Can you check that Vera knows? Mikey might not remember to ask if he can stay the night away.' Translation: Mikey tried to get away with murder sometimes. Well, not actual murder, of course. ‘You know what I mean,' said Ellie.

‘I know what you mean. All right, I'll phone her.'

‘He went off on his bike, riding on the pavement?'

Thomas laughed, and disconnected. Which meant that yes, Mikey had ridden off on the pavement. Ellie sent up an arrow prayer,
Please don't let Mikey knock anyone over or damage himself.

Aidan drove with care and attention to detail, but rather faster than Ellie would have liked. Ellie could see the point of having a little runabout like this. He could zip in and out of traffic with ease, and parking would be a doddle. Unless you were his mother with a ‘thing' about parking meters.

He drew up outside The Magpie and double-parked, with one eye on the clock. ‘I can't stop here. I'll wait round the corner and give Clemmie a lift home if she's not going to be long. I'm on duty at seven.'

‘I'll ask her to ring you.'

Ellie extricated herself from his car, straightened her skirt, and looked The Magpie over. There were still customers in the shop. A girl, probably late teens – the one who'd been at the funeral? – was taking a dress off one of the mannequins in the window, presumably to be tried on by a customer.

Ellie rang the bell for the office, and waited. She watched Aidan manoeuvre out into the traffic, and turn into a side road nearby. Smoothly. He'd done that before, hadn't he? How long had he been hanging around Clemmie, and did Trixie have mixed feelings about it?

The speakerphone clicked and Ellie announced her name. Someone activated the lock on the door, Ellie pushed it open and climbed the stairs.

Clemmie was waiting for her at the top. Clemmie did not look pleased to see her.

Ellie got in first. ‘You just wait till Aidan tells you what's been happening back at the ranch! He's waiting for you round the corner, if you can leave straight away. Give him a bell if you can't make it.'

Clemmie gaped. Then frowned. Struggled with herself. Made a sharp movement back to the stairs, contained herself. ‘I don't know what you want, but Mr Mornay is still here, and—'

‘I hoped he might be. Thanks for letting me in, Clemmie. You go off and have fun. It's Mr Mornay I came to see.'

‘Yes, but—'

‘Go, girl!'

‘I'll have to tell him you're here first.'

‘Tell him. And then, go.'

Clemmie darted into the inner office, where Ellie heard her say, ‘Mrs Quicke's come back. Is it all right if I leave you to lock up?'

There was a mumble from within. Clemmie collected a jacket and purse from her desk and, after sending a distracted look in Ellie's direction, disappeared down the stairs.

The outer office was empty. Laura had already gone for the day, as had Ruth.

Ellie walked into the inner office to find Mr Mornay sitting back in his chair, his hands clasped and a frown on his face. ‘Now what do you want?'

‘Some answers.' Ellie took a chair, uninvited. ‘The books that you're working on at the moment. Those on the table. They're not for The Magpie, are they? But they're relevant.'

‘That is no business of yours.'

‘The partnership books are all right, with the exception of the money which Trixie took. But you don't only deal with The Magpie, do you? You also do the books for Cordover's, the builders. And very likely also for Cocks's Garage. My money is on these books being from the garage.'

‘You amaze me.' He steepled his fingers and looked at her over them. He was not going to admit anything but he wasn't throwing her out, either.

She continued in a conversational tone. ‘You attended the funeral but absented yourself immediately afterwards, at a time when you knew Ray Cocks would be tied up with the reading of the will. Did you use that time to raid his office at the garage and remove his books?'

Her eyes switched to the heavy tomes on his desk. Old-fashioned methods. Transferring figures by hand at the end of every day. Not using modern technology. Her kind of bookkeeping, out of date but practical, leaving a paper trail and not subject to the vagaries of computer systems.