Murder With Mercy (3 page)

Ellie hadn't expected this. She shook her head, wondering how to soften her refusal. ‘I've got so many meetings, so much to do. Surely you can find an old friend who'd be willing to sit with him?'

‘I wish I could, but he's so “down” that it's … To tell the truth, ever since one of his old friends took an overdose, he's been talking about suicide, and I can't have that, can I? I know you've got things on, but surely you can do this for me?'

E
llie's mind zigzagged to and from various possibilities. Could Diana be referring to the case which had brought Lesley Milburn to see her that morning?

No, Evan Hooper would never be disturbed by the death of a cleaner. But hadn't Lesley mentioned another woman who'd overdosed recently? ‘You mean the woman living up by the park?'

Diana stared. ‘The park?'

Ellie gestured to her right, then realized the park lay in the opposite direction, and pointed to her left. ‘Pitshanger Park? A terraced house backing on to the park?'

A frown. ‘Don't be ridiculous. Terraced house, indeed! Anita lived on the Argyle Road in a detached house similar to ours. She was captain of the women's team for some years. You must have met her?'

Ellie's first husband had been a member of the golf club. She'd gone to various social events there with him but not made any real friends. Did she remember Anita? Yes, she did. A lively, good-looking woman with a pleasant husband.

Diana continued, ‘Conservative, of course. She and her husband were very old friends of Evan's family. Was he best man at their wedding? Something like that. A tragic case, cancer. She took too many pills one night. Misadventure.'

Not the same woman, then. But, perhaps, another case to add to Lesley's file? No, no. If an elderly lady becomes confused and takes too many of her pills, where's the crime in that?

Mm. Wasn't suicide considered a crime in itself? Ellie was not sure. It used to be considered a crime, didn't it? But perhaps it was so no longer? It was, she supposed, understandable that someone in great pain, or with a terminal illness, might be tempted to embrace death early. On the other hand, hadn't she heard a minister at church say that it was wrong to shorten the span of life which God had intended for you? She must ask Thomas.

Diana snapped her cup down on its saucer. ‘Well? I can count on you to help me out in this, can't I?'

Ellie told herself that she was not going to be blackmailed into doing something she didn't really want to do. ‘I could do one morning a week, and that's more than I should offer. I suggest you get a paid companion for him. Perhaps someone who can help him with his physiotherapy?'

‘He goes to the physio twice a week, complaining all the time. Since he can't drive, I either have to take him, or pay for a cab.'

Ellie wanted to ask if Diana considered her mother to be cheaper than a cab, but a prolonged ring on the doorbell stopped her. ‘Now who …?' Vera had a key, and Mikey was already home.

Diana inched her way out of her chair. ‘Tomorrow morning, then. Nine sharp. I'll let you in and give you a key before I go to the office.' She balanced herself on her feet and made for the hall as the bell rang again.

‘Coming!' Ellie helped Diana into her coat and opened the door to the wind and the rain … and a strange man. No, not a stranger, but someone she hadn't expected to see on her doorstep. She made the mental shift into business mode. ‘Hugh?'

Some time ago Ellie had inherited Pryce House, an attractively ugly turreted mansion in the next road. There had been strings attached to the sale, and those strings had caused Ellie many hours of worry. She'd sold the house to a hotel chain, while reserving some shares in the business for herself to give her a financial cushion in case the aforementioned strings got out of hand.

Somewhat to her surprise, the managing director of the hotel chain had wanted her to play an active part in transforming the Victorian monstrosity into a first-class hotel, and she had found herself consulted on all manner of things from the layout of the garden to the placing of the new lift shaft and even the choice of interior decorator.

Hugh was the company's highly efficient project manager and they had frequent site meetings, but he had never called on her at home before.

He usually greeted her with a smile, but today he looked grim. ‘I hope it's not inconvenient, Mrs Quicke?'

Ellie said, ‘Come on in, Hugh. My daughter's just leaving. What a horrible night.'

Diana pushed past Hugh as if he were a lad on work experience trying to sell dusters, inserted herself into her car and drove off.

Hugh stepped inside, taking in the spacious hall, the doors leading to the dining and sitting rooms, the colourful stand of plants in the conservatory at the back of the hall and the polished wood of the grand staircase.

‘A cup of tea? Coffee?' Ellie wondered, uneasily, if Mikey were responsible for this unexpected call, although she couldn't think why he should be.

‘No, thanks. A quiet word with Mikey's mother …?'

So Mikey
was
in trouble. Ellie tipped her head towards the kitchen, listening for Vera's alto. The radio was on, but she couldn't hear any other voices. So, Vera hadn't yet returned from college. ‘I can't remember what day of the week it is, but if it's Tuesday that means she won't be back till later.'

‘It's Tuesday, yes.' He hesitated, unsure of himself.

‘You'd better come on in and tell me all about it.'

Hugh followed her into the sitting room with its mixture of antique and modern furniture. He didn't miss the luxury of the lined velvet curtains, the flowering azalea on the piecrust table, the good china Diana had used … or the mugs for Ellie and Lesley. ‘You're busy?'

‘Never too busy for you. Do sit down.'

He was reluctant to say why he'd come. He sighed, deeply. ‘The boy.'

She nodded, anxiety mounting. ‘What's he done now?'

‘Don't get me wrong. I've got a lot of time for him.' He shifted his feet. He was not enjoying this. ‘You know he comes over the wall into Pryce House at all hours of the day and night?'

She was startled. ‘No, I didn't. At least, come to think of it, I did spot a track over the garden bed to the wall, but I thought it was foxes. How does he do it? That wall must be three metres high.'

‘He's got a knotted rope attached to a laburnum tree on your side. One branch of the tree overhangs the party wall. When he gets to the top, he straddles the wall, lets the rope down the other side, and Bob's your uncle. I've known about it for some time. We all have. The men didn't used to mind. He was quite a favourite with them, useful for crawling into small spaces, retrieving dropped tools and the like.'

‘I dare say. But he shouldn't—'

‘That's boys for you. He says he does his homework in five minutes flat, and I believe him.'

Ellie faked a smile. Mikey's homework was a source of contention. He ignored the work he was supposed to do in some subjects, and Vera had twice been summoned to the school to be scolded about it. According to his form master, Mikey was heading straight for a life of crime, while if you believed the IT teacher, Mikey was the brightest brain in Britain and should go far. Take your pick.

‘I wondered if he felt he'd been done out of his rights, with his father – adopted father – having been a member of the Pryce family that used to own that house. But he never spoke of it. The men say he knows his way around the place better than they do. Only, it's become a matter of sabotage …' Hugh gave another heavy sigh.

‘I'm shocked.' And she was. ‘Mikey can be mischievous, but he wouldn't … Wait a minute, there was some trouble a while back which caused your schedule to slip a few days, but you said that was down to someone you'd had to sack for cutting corners.'

‘He'd been ordering more copper wire than was needed and selling the surplus off down the pub, so he had to go. He knew he'd been stupid, never argued when I sacked him. I can take that sort of thing in my stride. But after he'd gone, we discovered a leaking joint on one of the jobs he'd done: a job which had been signed off days before.'

‘But if he'd left by that time—'

‘He came back for a jacket he'd left behind. Or so he said. I was off site that day; the men hadn't liked to argue. So we reckoned it was him, paying us out for sacking him. It would only have taken a couple of turns with a wrench to start a slow leak, but it took us two full days to check every joint …' He gestured his frustration.

‘So that was down to him. We thought. Then four nights ago one of the electricians went back upstairs for a tool he'd left behind and heard water splashing out of a basin. Everyone else had gone. Someone had put the plug in and left the tap running. He shut the water off, reported it next day. It wasn't the man we'd blamed for the first problem. I know, because I checked. He was playing darts in the pub that night, and he didn't have a key to get back on site. We don't have a night watchman but the place is secured with heavy padlocks every evening, and a security firm comes round and checks everything at four-hourly intervals.

‘No one put their hand up for it. Then I was delayed in a meeting up in town yesterday and didn't get back till everyone else had left the site. I wanted to check that some light fittings had been delivered, so I let myself into the house about nine in the evening and heard water cascading down the back stairs. Someone had turned the taps on in a newly installed bath on the top floor. I turned the taps off, and we've had heaters going all day to dry the place out. That's the third problem this month.

‘My foreman says Mikey was hanging around yesterday till they threw him out but I'm perfectly aware that, in spite of all our precautions, the lad can get into the building whenever he wishes. Goodness knows how.'

She lifted her shoulders. ‘What can I say? I'll have a word.'

‘There's no father around, is there?' said Hugh, heavily. ‘The girl's brought him up herself? A nice girl, by all accounts, trying to make something of herself. It seems to me she's got enough on her plate to be going on with and I don't want to add to her burdens, but he's got to be stopped. It's not just the water. Once I started to make enquiries, the men told me about some other incidents: mislaid tools, switches left on when they should have been shut off, a small fire started with a short-circuit—'

Ellie paled. ‘You mean that Mikey's been responsible for …? No, I don't believe it.'

‘I don't want to believe it, either. Neither did the men. That's why they didn't tell me. But recently they've started looking over their shoulders, watching to see where he is. It's bad for morale. And I don't need to tell you that it's going down badly with the management because it's made us fall behind schedule again. Not by much. Maybe another two or three days. But it affects the men's bonuses. So, with reluctance, I'm forbidding him the site from now on.'

‘I'm appalled. Of course I'll have a word with him. You're right about Vera carrying a heavy burden at the moment. It's a shame, but I'll have to tell her, too. How about cutting that rope he's using to get over the wall?'

‘It's on your side of the wall at the moment. If you're in agreement, I'll get someone to take a ladder tomorrow morning first thing and cut it off at the top.' He stood up, a solid, practical man. ‘You have my word for it that this won't get any further, provided he stops playing games. Right? But if not …' He left the threat dangling.

The doorbell rang again. This time on a tentative note.

Whatever next? ‘I understand. Thank you, Hugh.' She led the way back into the hall and opened the door to let him out only to find a stranger standing in the porch, trying to fold up a broken umbrella.

‘Mrs Quicke?' The newcomer was a big girl with straight blonde hair and a heavy bosom. She was wearing a waterproof poncho over a sweatshirt and jeans. Bovver boots. ‘The woman at the police station told me to see you about a job.' Without being invited, she moved into the hall so that Ellie had to take a step back. A cloud of stale cigarette smoke came in with her.

‘Is your name Petra, by any chance?' Ellie shut the door on the outside world. At that moment she heard another door bang and Vera's voice raised in the kitchen. If this was Tuesday, then this was the one day on which Ellie ought to have organized some supper. It had completely slipped her mind to do anything about it, and she'd left the kitchen in a mess. Vera didn't cook on Tuesdays because it was her long day at college.

Ellie decided to deal with one thing at a time. ‘Come in, do. Leave your wet things on the chair. I won't be a moment.' She hurried into the kitchen. There was Vera, looking as if she'd just been fished out of a river. She couldn't have taken her umbrella that day. Her hair dripped, her jacket dripped, and so did her jeans. She was shivering convulsively.

Rose was emitting little cries of dismay and trying to help Vera peel off her jacket. The amaryllis pots were still on the side of the sink, and nothing had been done about supper.

Ellie said, ‘Vera, upstairs with you this minute, and into a hot bath. It's my turn to do the supper and I'll get to it in a minute. Rose dear, can you look in the freezer, see if there's anything I can throw together for a meal? I have a visitor, but I can bring her in here while I cook, right?'

‘Brrrrr,' said Vera. ‘B-b-but—'

Ellie clapped her hands. ‘Off with you now! No arguments!'

Rose dithered. ‘I was wanting to see the six o'clock news.'

‘So you shall. You go and watch the news and I'll see to everything.' Ellie hustled Vera off up the back stairs and asked Petra to come into the kitchen. ‘Sorry about this, but I have to cook. Want a cuppa?'