Murder By Committee

by Veronica Heley

  Ellie said, ‘I must wash my hands first.’ She didn't wait for permission, but used some liquid soap and ran water at the sink. Felicity had picked up the pans containing the vegetables she'd been intending to cook, and stood there, gazing into space.

  Ellie said, softly, ‘You'd better cook them. You know potatoes shouldn't be kept for long in water once they've been peeled.’

  Felicity put the pans down and led the way to the hall, without another word. Ellie and Kate followed her.

  A silver Mercedes was just being driven away. Ellie could still see the marks where Felicity had been scrubbing the graffiti off the paintwork.

  ‘What a pity,’ said Ellie. ‘That door's going to need repainting, isn't it? Unusual to get graffiti so far off the street.’

  ‘Yes. No. I mean, we know who did it. At least, I think I know, but I don't want to get him into trouble. It was just a misunderstanding about his bill, really.’ She seemed to regret even saying so much because she whisked herself back into the house and closed the door.

  Ellie and Kate got into Kate's car and belted up. ‘Much to think about,’ observed Kate.

  ‘I wonder if Felicity will bother to cook for herself tonight,’ said Ellie. ‘Somehow, I doubt it. Will you kindly tell me what's going on?’

  Kate started the car. ‘Did you notice that she seemed more distressed about the dog's death than the threat to her husband?’

  ‘Is there really a threat?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kate concentrated on her driving, glancing at the clock on the dashboard now and then. ‘I'll be back for Catriona's bath time, with luck.’

  ‘Explanations can wait?’

  Kate sighed. ‘I was hoping Armand and I could take Catriona out into the country for the day tomorrow, as there's still so much colour in the trees, but I suppose I'd better help you sort this mess out. Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock, I'll introduce you to the chief suspect for the poisoning. We'll take the car to the tube and go up that way. It's quicker than driving all the way up to Canary Wharf, and avoids the congestion charge.’

  Kate turned into their road and parked as neatly as she always did. In front of them was a flashy silver sports car with a registration number they both recognized. Diana's car. Ellie tried not to acknowledge the sinking feeling which the sight of Diana's car had induced in her.

  Neither Kate nor Ellie made a move to get out of the car.

  Ellie said, ‘Quick, before she realizes we're here. Tell me what's going on.’

  ‘The City is putting together a very big deal. Sir Arthur is a key element in it. On Sunday night he returned earlier than expected from a weekend break in the country. Felicity was out. There was a pepperoni pizza in a box in the porch. He thought someone must have left it there by mistake, delivered it to the wrong house. He didn't ring the company who'd delivered it, but said “Finders keepers!” - took it in, cut off a slice and ate it. Thought it tasted odd. Put his fingers down his throat and threw up. While his back was turned, the dog pinched some. Sir Arthur survived. The dog died.’

  ‘Has he any reason to think someone's trying to kill him?’

  ‘He's made more enemies than the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Any one of them could have laced the pizza with poison, but unfortunately, Sir Arthur jumped to the conclusion that an old enemy of his must have been responsible. This morning he arrived at an important board meeting in the City and accused this man of trying to kill him. The meeting broke up in disarray, and the City is not pleased. I'd told Gwyn about you ages ago, about how clever you are with people. He's trying to get both parties back round the table, but Sir Arthur - well, you can see what he's like. If we can find out who really did poison the dog, it would help.’

  ‘Felicity was out at the time?’

  ‘She returned to find her husband lying down, and a large piece of pizza on the kitchen floor with the dog's teeth marks all over it. Rex was hiding in his basket, as any dog would when he's been thieving and expects to be called to account for it. She scolded the dog and said he was to stay in the kitchen all evening as a punishment. She put the remains of the pizza down the waste disposal and threw the carton in the bin. The bin men collected the rubbish the following morning. The dog died in the night, and only then did they suspect poison.’

  ‘Are you sure she didn't poison it herself, to get back at her husband? The way that man treats her …!’

  ‘I don't think so, do you?’

  Before Ellie could drag any more information out of Kate, Diana erupted from the house.

  ‘Mother! Where have you been? You might at least pick up the phone. You can't pretend you don't know I've been trying to get hold of you.’

  Kate flicked a tiny glance of commiseration at Ellie, and got out of the car. ‘We were visiting a client, Diana. Your mother has quite a reputation for …’

  ‘Oh yes, she's available to everyone except her family!’ Diana almost spat in her fury.

  Diana was as tall as Kate. Both women were dark-haired and handsome, but there the likeness petered out, for Diana was beginning to wear the haggard expression of the ultrathin woman who only eats lettuce leaves, while Kate - though still slim - had gone up a dress size since she became pregnant.

  Ellie smothered a sigh. ‘Diana, I was going to ring you this evening, but …’

  Diana snorted. ‘I doubt it!’

  Ellie didn't even glance at Kate, but could feel a wave of sympathy coming from her neighbour. Ellie got out her key and let herself and Diana into her house. The light was winking on the answerphone. There'd be a message or two from Diana, of course, but perhaps also one from Aunt Drusilla, whose health was causing everyone concern. She must listen to them later.

  ‘Cup of tea?’ She went through into the kitchen, hearing the cat flap click as her cat Midge left the house. Midge disliked Diana as much as Diana disliked him.

  ‘No, I do not want tea,’ said Diana, much as if Ellie had offered her poison. ‘I want … I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Talk away, dear.’ Ellie put water in the kettle and switched it on, wondering if the downtrodden Felicity really would cook herself a meal this evening. Ellie glanced at the clock. ‘Goodness me, is that the time? I promised to go to a meeting at church this evening.’

  Actually, she'd been very half-hearted about going, but if Diana were going to hang around, a meeting in the church hall was a better bet than an evening being harangued by Diana.

  ‘You are always so busy!’ Diana took hold of her left wrist with her right hand and visibly made herself calm down. ‘My blood pressure!’

  Ellie was alarmed. ‘Have you got high blood pressure, dear?’

  ‘Yes. No.’ Irritably. ‘I have to watch out for it. Though little you'd care if I did go bankrupt.’

  Oh. Ellie made herself a cup of tea, with carefully controlled movements. ‘Bankrupt is a strong word, Diana. I thought you were doing so well with that big house you turned into flats. I thought you'd sold nearly all of them.’

  ‘Yes. Well, I did. At least, I sold well over half. But you know what it is. The housing market has slowed down and some people couldn't get their mortgages sorted and there was a long chain with others. The fact is, I have a cash-flow problem. I don't suppose you'd understand it, because you've never had a business head, but …’

  ‘Let's go and sit down in the other room, shall we?’ Ellie led the way, trying to absorb Diana's news. She set her cup of tea down and went to draw the curtains at both ends of the long sitting room. The central heating had clicked on. Just as well. October nights could be chilly. Also, the flagstones on the patio were wet, so it had begun to rain.

  Diana fidgeted with the clasp of a large black handbag. She usually wore black. Skinny jacket, slinky trousers. Fake fur on the lapel of the jacket. The outfit looked expensive but a touch tarty.

  Ellie knew that Diana slept around. Diana had slept around even before she'd got rid of her pleasant but somewhat stolid husband. Diana had continued to sleep around since the divorce. She'd made a spe
ctacle of herself some time back with a rather unpleasant estate agent, but had chucked him eventually. Who was her latest? Ellie decided she didn't want to know.

  ‘Well?’ Diana had little patience for older women who sat sipping their tea when they should be rushing to help their daughter out of trouble.

  Ellie straightened her shoulders. ‘Let's get this straight. You bought that big house against my advice. You took out all the period features, even though I warned you that you would be halving the number of potential buyers by doing so. You kept the garden flat - the best flat in the building - for yourself. Now you can't sell the flats as quickly as you expected, you want me to do …. what?’

  ‘I just need to be tided over until I can sell another flat.’

  ‘You want me to lend you some money at a reasonable rate of interest?’

  Diana sprang up, offended. ‘Mother, are you out of your mind? You'd charge your own child interest? Naturally, I came to you first, but …’

  ‘You've tried your Great-Aunt Drusilla?’

  ‘She's old and doesn't understand.’

  Ellie held up her hand. ‘Diana, your great-aunt has forgotten more about buying and selling houses than you've had hot meals. She may be old, but …’

  ‘She's senile!’

  Ellie shook her head. Miss Drusilla Quicke might be getting on in years, she might walk with the aid of a stick, but she had the brightest financial brain on the block.

  Ellie looked at the tips of her shoes. They were a trifle tight. She eased them off. She glanced at the clock and calculated how long it would take to get herself something to eat, and get to the church meeting. Annual general meetings were usually boring, but there'd been talk about a developer wanting to rebuild the vicarage. Not before time. Yes, it might be interesting to go to the meeting after all.

  Diana began to stride up and down the room, the heels of her boots thumping with every step. Unlike Kate, who almost waltzed around, crooning to her baby.

  Diana said, ‘I do have other people I can ask, but I'd very much prefer not to.’

  ‘You've tried the bank?’

  ‘They suggest I put my own flat, my lovely garden flat, on the market. They say that's sure to sell quickly. Which of course it would. But then I'd be homeless, and where would I take my darling little boy when I have him at weekends?’

  ‘You could get a job, which would help pay the mortgage.’ ‘Where would I get a good enough job to pay the mortgage? I tell you, I'm in deep trouble, unless you can help me out.’

  Ellie got to her feet, considered putting her shoes back on, decided against it, and padded, shoeless, into the kitchen. ‘Let me have a business plan. Set out how much you want and how you'll repay me, and I'll think about it. Meanwhile, I've got to eat before I go out. Do you want to share a shepherd's pie with me? I've got some in the freezer that I made last week.’

  Diana shuddered. ‘No wonder you've put on so much weight recently.’

  Ellie wanted to say that she hadn't, but wasn't sure that would be truthful. Had she put on weight recently? No-o. Her clothes weren't too tight. Not even her beautiful new russet wool suit, which she might wear tonight.

  The doorbell rang. Ellie paused with her head in the freezer.

  Diana said, ‘Salesmen, I suppose! I'll get rid of them,’ and stalked to open the front door. Midge's head appeared under the cat flap, enquiring if it were safe to come in. Ellie made a shooing motion with her hand, and Midge's head disappeared.

  A confusion of voices. Diana was declaring that Ellie was not in, and two male voices were insisting that she was. Two men?

  Ellie abandoned her search for food to satisfy her curiosity.

  ‘I know she's in! I saw her draw the curtains just now!’ Roy Bartrick, six foot of silver-haired, blue-eyed charm. A cousin of Ellie's dead husband and a respectable architect, he was a good friend who would have liked a closer relationship with Ellie. He was also Aunt Drusilla's long-lost illegitimate son.

  None of which endeared him to Diana, who had hoped - without any solid grounds - to inherit Miss Quicke's millions. Diana found it impossible to believe that Roy wasn't as mercenary as she herself was, but in fact he hadn't a mercenary bone in his body, and he and his mother were very fond of one another.

  Diana was retreating before Roy's advance. ‘I don't know what you think you're-!’

  Roy lifted his hand in a salute. ‘Ellie, I need to speak to you …’ ‘Let me in!’ Another man's voice. Roy stepped forward to reveal the plump figure of Archie, church treasurer and another onetime aspirant to Ellie's favours. Archie was looking anxious, as was Roy. Diana looked about to explode with fury.

  ‘Supper, anyone?’ said Ellie.

  Three

  Sir Arthur was on his mobile, while being driven by Marco towards town.

  ‘Martinez. How did you get on?’

  The phone quacked.

  ‘Well, keep at it. We need proof. If he didn't use his car that night, he must have taken a cab. He wouldn't risk asking someone else to dump the pizza on my doorstep. So find it. A lot hangs on this, including your bonus.’

  More quacking.

  Sir Arthur wrinkled his nose, lifting his upper lip. ‘Gwyn's going senile. He sent a middle-aged housewife to see me today. Said she'd find out who's trying to poison me, as if I didn't know! I shot her out quicker than she came in. Ellie Quicke; came in Quicke, went out Quicker.’ Sir Arthur snickered.

  The phone quacked. ‘You've never heard of her? Local busybody. Small-time. Nothing for us to worry about. That Kate creature brought her, the one who's done a lot of work for Gwyn in the past … Yeah, I know I thought we might use her, but she's pupped now and off the scene.’

  He leaned back against the leather upholstery as they inched their way round the North Circular, which was almost at a standstill. Rain dribbled down the windows. He peered out. ‘We're stuck in traffic. Looks like I might be late. Look. Time's of the essence. You get the proof we need today, or … yes, you can switch to plan B.’

  He shut off the phone, frowning, fidgeting.

  Marco said, ‘You want me to do something about Mrs Quicker? Rearrange her garden?’

  Sir Arthur snapped at him. ‘If I wanted that, I'd tell you, wouldn't I? Where exactly are we? Better drop me off at North Ealing station, I'll take the tube in. You can pick me up later, half ten.’

  ‘I could pay her a visit, that Quicker-Whicker. Give her a warning, like.’

  ‘No need. Or not yet, anyway. I want you to do something else for me tonight …’

  Ellie usually had plenty of food in her freezer. Cooking for one can be difficult, so she'd bought herself a big freezer and every now and then she'd spend a morning cooking a large quantity of mince, or a joint or a whole fish, divide the result into individual portions and freeze them. But she hadn't stocked up lately. What had she got? Some frozen shepherd's pies, some stray bags of greens … a couple of packages of home-made soups … nothing much.

  ‘Mother, we haven't finished our discussion.’

  ‘Yes, we have, dear. Will you join us for supper?’

  Diana stormed out of the house, but both Roy and Archie accepted her invitation. Ellie decided against the bother of setting the table in the living room, and suggested they eat in the kitchen.

  Neither man was at ease in the kitchen. Roy did his best but he was about as cack-handed as a man could be, and Archie was the sort of man who went out for a meal if he couldn't get some ‘little lady' to cook for him.

  Ellie wondered how his current bimbo had come to let him out of her sight long enough to visit another woman. Probably she was having her hair or nails done. In any case, bimbo wasn't the type to don an apron and produce food for a man; she was the type who would expect to be taken out for a meal. She'd never believe that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, although Ellie had proved this to be the case over and over again.

  Ellie fed Midge, who'd returned the moment the front door had banged behind Diana. She put some wat
er on to boil to cook the frozen sprouts, told Archie to sit down and not fidget, and asked Roy to pour them each a glass of sherry. Roy could be trusted to do that, at least, and a small glass of sherry might warm the frosty atmosphere which had always existed between the two men.

  Ellie whisked individual shepherd's pies in and out of the microwave, while keeping her eye on the sprouts and wondering if the men would want redcurrant jelly or mint sauce with the pies. And what about a pudding? Oh, nonsense. They'd come without an invitation. They could have cheese or fruit or ice cream if they wanted something after the pie. She must keep an eye on the time.

  Meanwhile … ‘Is this about the meeting at church?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Roy.

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Archie, reddening. Was he lying? ‘I was going to ask you, dear lady, to take pity on a lonely bachelor and have supper with me at the Carvery.’

  So what had become of his bimbo?

  Roy sighed. ‘There's going to be trouble tonight. I expect Archie wanted to talk to you about it. I certainly do.’

  ‘Spit it out,’ said Ellie.

  Archie plumped himself out like a pouter pigeon. He had a gold-glinting smile, which he now turned on Ellie. ‘It's purely routine tonight. We don't anticipate any problem.’

  Roy cut in. ‘Yes, and no. It's-’

  ‘Gentlemen!’ Ellie reminded herself that soft words and a smile often produced a better effect than cracking heads together. ‘One at a time.’ She served up the food, but as she did so, she had a flashback to that poor creature Felicity standing in her superbly fitted-out kitchen, putting the food she'd prepared away … and probably not eating herself.

  Archie gave every word its weight, as became his position as long-time church treasurer. ‘Dear lady, there really is no reason to think there's going to be any trouble. As you know, the diocese has given its consent to the vicarage being pulled down and rebuilt …’

  Ellie nodded. ‘Not before time. I was afraid it might be listed as an example of Victorian Gothic horror, and then where would we be! We really do need something modern, easier to heat and clean. I know we've got to pay for it by giving the end bit of the garden for a developer to build on, but I agree it's the best solution to the problem.’