Murder by Suggestion

by Veronica Heley

  Ellie opened her mouth to say that Russet was occupying the room in which the boy usually slept but decided against doing so. She didn’t think Diana would find it that easy to kidnap her son, and if she did, wouldn’t the police become involved? Ellie shuddered at the thought of the boy in the centre of a tug-of-war. Diana might relish it, but the toddler wouldn’t.

  One thing: Evan didn’t know that he was about to become a father all over again. Would that make a difference to his attitude? Surely it must do so. If Diana didn’t tell him, then Ellie would. Evan had the right to know.

  Ellie said, ‘What I don’t understand is why you invited your friends to meet you here? You don’t seem to have much in common with them.’

  A shrug. ‘I thought that if we got together to form a united front, we could fight for a better deal from the men. A couple of the other women have money and we could put together a fund to secure a solicitor who could act for all of us. Then I realized you could do that for me, so I abandoned that idea. I can manage without their help, if you’ll only get Gunnar on to the job.’

  ‘Diana, that’s a bit steep. You got them here, and now you turn around and say you’re not interested in them? They’re in shock. They need looking after.’

  Diana was so focused on her own needs that she didn’t seem to hear what her mother was saying. Instead, she went on, ‘Until I can get a proper settlement from Evan, I’ll make do with the top-floor flat here. It’s not terribly convenient, but at least I can shut the door on the rest of the world and recreate some kind of home for my child. I’ve told your cook person that she’ll have to move out straight away so that you can redecorate before I—’

  ‘What!’ said Ellie. ‘You’ve done what?’

  EIGHT

  Monday supper.

  ‘You can’t turn Susan out,’ said Ellie, trying to keep calm. ‘This is my house, and you cannot go around telling my tenant what to do. Susan is part of the family and, what’s more, she has a valid tenancy agreement. Surely you understand what that means? She has a legal right to be here.’

  A shrug. ‘Give her notice to quit. Tell her she has a week to find another place. That’s fair enough, isn’t it?’ Diana looked around her. ‘Anyway, it’s about time you downsized and let me take this house over. Until then, I’ll make do with the top flat.’

  Ellie closed her eyes and took a deep breath to control her impulse to murder. She understood now what a blind rage meant. ‘No! That. Will. Not. Do.’ She opened her eyes again to see if Diana understood.

  Diana was looking at her with an expression of faint surprise. ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Because …’ Ellie brought her voice down from the stratosphere. ‘Because I say so. Because this is my house and I decide what goes on in it. Because you expect too much.’

  ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You are my mother, and naturally you will support me in this terrible situation.’

  ‘Support? Yes. Within reasonable limits. I have told you again and again that I cannot access trust money for private use. I have helped you out many times in the past from my own money; I gave you the house we used to live in. What you now want is a step too far. I need the income from the top flat to run this house. Thomas helps …’

  Except that he can’t help for the immediate future. Diana doesn’t need to know that.

  ‘Oh, Thomas!’ A twist of the lips. ‘I suppose it’s him who’s turned you against me.’

  Ellie told herself to count to ten and made it to five. ‘No, Thomas is all for family solidarity. He has not said a word about you coming to stay and has been sympathetic to your problems. Neither has he objected to your inviting your friends to come here without asking permission. Are you going to defray the cost of their stay here?’

  ‘You cannot be serious! These are my friends, who are in great distress. No one but you would object to helping them—’

  ‘I’m not objecting,’ said Ellie, wearily aware that she was going to lose this argument, as she always lost arguments with Diana. Diana didn’t play fair. She never had.

  ‘It sounds like it to me,’ said Diana. ‘I suppose I ought not to be surprised at your mean-minded attitude. Your thought processes are stuck in the last century. I begin to wonder if you should be tested for Alzheimer’s.’

  Ellie couldn’t find words to reply. Did her daughter really think that? And if so …

  Diana nodded to herself. ‘Yes, that’s it. Obviously. It’s time someone else took charge of your affairs. Have you signed a Lasting Power of Attorney yet, so that I can do the necessary for you? Well, have you? Because if not, we’d better see to it tomorrow.’

  Ellie almost laughed. She shook her head. ‘Diana, forget it. Thomas and I have both made proper provision for our eventual descent into old age. Also, I changed my will some time ago, remember? Thomas is looked after, and the trust gets the rest. You’ve had enough already. You get nothing more.’

  Diana didn’t even blink. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Of course you’ll leave everything to me. Mother, it really is about time you faced up to it; you’re fast losing the plot. This nonsense has got to stop! I’ll take you to see a doctor tomorrow. Let me know when supper’s ready.’ So saying, she stalked out of the room.

  Ellie felt like sinking into a chair and having hysterics. Or indulging in a major bout of tears. Or throwing something.

  Instead, she found a hankie, blew her nose and marched out to the kitchen in fire-fighting mood.

  Yes, Diana had definitely been here and wreaked her usual havoc. Susan, flushed of face with her red-gold hair in wild curls around her head, was kneading dough as if she’d like to strangle it.

  Rafael, on the other hand, was calmly at work on his laptop. Rafael was a wealthy young businessman who had recently bought up a block of substandard flats, which he was turning into desirable properties. Half-Italian by birth, he was intelligent, six foot something, long and lean with a quirky sense of humour. And, Ellie noted, he was now wearing a pair of rimless glasses. That was new.

  Midge the cat was perched on the table, superintending whatever Rafael was doing on his laptop. Midge liked Rafael, and vice versa.

  Susan was so hot with rage that Ellie imagined she could see steam coming off her. She didn’t look at Ellie, but said, ‘All right, all right! I know! I’ll be out tomorrow!’

  Rafael was keeping his cool. ‘Much as I’d like that, Susan; no, you won’t.’

  Susan swiped her forearm across her forehead. Still not looking at Ellie, she said, ‘Diana explained everything. I quite understand the position you’re in, Mrs Quicke. Rafael has a spare room in his flat that I can move into.’

  Ellie said, ‘No, you won’t.’

  Rafael said, ‘It’s the marshmallow test, isn’t it?’

  Susan glared at him. ‘What?’

  Rafael was unmoved. ‘It’s a test given to children to see if you can predict which will be successful when they grow up. You give each child a marshmallow and tell them that if they wish to do so they can eat it straight away, but if they are prepared to wait ten minutes, they will be given a second sweet. Some can’t wait. Others can and, if they do, they get their reward. The ones who wait are the ones who have sufficient self-control to defer immediate gratification, and that earns them a bonus. If you moved into my flat, Susan, I’d not be able to control myself. You wanted to wait till we’re married, and I agreed to your terms. So, we’ll wait.’

  ‘Grrr!’ said Susan. ‘I’m not listening!’

  Rafael said to Ellie, ‘Mrs Quicke, I’ve tried the magic word on her and she nearly swiped me into the middle of next week.’ He looked at Susan over his glasses and shook his head. ‘Temper!’

  That was a bit provocative, wasn’t it? But perhaps Rafael was right, and they all needed to let off steam somehow or other. But how? Ah, an idea …

  Ellie marched over to a cupboard containing odd pieces of china which were rarely if ever used. She pulled out some thick old plates and slammed them down on to the table
. ‘There you are, Susan! Smash them for me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Throw them down on the floor! Stamp on them. Make a noise! Scream!’

  ‘What?’ Susan picked up a plate. ‘Do you mean it? You want me to smash this plate?’ She lifted it up high, and hesitated.

  ‘Oh, dearie me,’ said Rafael. ‘Are we so conditioned not to make a fuss that we can’t break a plate or two?’

  Susan grimaced. She lowered the plate to waist level and dropped it on to the floor. It rolled under the table, unbroken.

  Midge decided this was no place for a cat and disappeared.

  Ellie said, ‘That wasn’t much of a smash. Try again!’

  Susan tried again. This time the plate broke. Susan looked appalled at what she’d done, but Rafael clapped. Then he looked at Ellie out of the corner of his eyes. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You know you want to.’

  Ellie grabbed a plate, held it high over her head, yelled, ‘Yaroo!’ and threw it down on to the floor where it smashed into several pieces. It felt wonderful!

  ‘Yaroo!’ yelled Susan, getting into the swing of things. Her next plate crashed against the skirting board and broke.

  ‘May I?’ asked Rafael, taking off his glasses to join in the fun. His plate disintegrated in a most satisfactory fashion.

  ‘One more,’ said Ellie, handing one to Susan and having another go herself. ‘Yarooo!’

  ‘Yaroo!’ echoed Susan. Smash, bang wallop! Crash!

  A sharp voice broke in. ‘What … is the meaning of this?’ Diana, in full black and white fury. ‘What childish—!’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Diana!’ Ellie was surprised to hear a note of authority in her voice. ‘This is not your house, not your crockery and none of your business.’

  ‘Well!’ For once Diana couldn’t produce the right words but turned on her heel and left.

  Susan tried a laugh on for size. It was a reasonable effort. ‘Sorry, everyone. I seem to have lost my sense of humour for a while. I’ll clear the mess up.’

  Rafael reached for the long-handled broom. ‘That was most enjoyable. I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like to smash things. Susan, you get rid of that dough you’ve been pummelling to death and wash your hands. I’ll clear the bits and pieces up.’

  ‘And I,’ said Ellie, ‘will put your mind at rest. Susan, you have a tenancy agreement for the flat.’

  Rafael said, ‘That’s what I told her. She wouldn’t listen.’

  Ellie went on, ‘Forget what Diana said. I’m holding you to our agreement. I am not letting you get out of it. You have to stay here for another three months, until you leave this house to get married. Understood?’

  Rafael tumbled pieces of china into the rubbish bin. He put his arms round Susan as she washed her hands at the tap, kissed her first on her neck, and then, turning her round, on her lips. ‘Of course I want you to live with me now, but I know you have this dream of doing everything in the correct order. You want to take your time, deciding colour schemes, buying furniture for our new home, unpacking wedding gifts, having fittings for the wedding dress, making your own cake, planning the buffet, choosing the hymns for the church. Strangely enough, I want that dream, too. It appeals to my old-fashioned, orderly mind. And I do believe wholeheartedly that pleasure deferred is pleasure doubled. I know you want to come to the marriage bed in a long white dress with nothing on underneath … A fantasy which keeps me awake every night, I may say. But I can wait. No need to rush it.’

  Susan dried her hands. Her colour had returned to normal, and she was her sensible self once more. ‘If you two think it’s all right, then that’s it. Settled. Supper won’t be long. Mrs Quicke, have you time to fill us in on what this is all about?’

  Rafael resumed his seat. ‘Exactly, Mrs Quicke. If we can help in some way, consider us at your service.’

  Ellie ran her fingers back through her hair. ‘As far as I can work out, five neglected wives joked among themselves about how to dispose of their husbands. Their discussions ended up on email and one of the men actually died in the way that Diana had suggested.’

  ‘Really?’ Rafael was amused. ‘I’m having trouble getting my head around that. What did she suggest?’

  ‘Mixing up the man’s pills. The other women came up with a wide range of plans from shoving someone down the stairs, setting him on fire, poisoning or drowning.’

  Rafael rubbed his chin, which sported a fashionable dark shadow. ‘They dreamed up wholesale manslaughter?’

  Ellie said, ‘Of course not. It was all a joke till one of them died in the way described. The husbands then took fright. They plotted to protect themselves by throwing their wives out. None of them had children at home, except for Diana. Evan kept their child and has barred Diana from the estate agency. She dumped her stuff here and went off to check with the bank that her own private account was still in working order, and to consult my solicitor. On the way, she contacted the other wives, who were getting the same treatment as her. Diana suggested that they join her here with some idea of forming a group to fight their expulsion. I was out – I’d gone to try to make Evan see sense at the time – but Thomas let the first arrival in, and she admitted the others. Later on today, another husband died. Walt, husband to Russet. He was found at the bottom of his stairs. That may have been a natural death, or it may not. It will take an autopsy to decide.’

  ‘Phew!’ That was Rafael. ‘That’s two down. What’s left? Poisoning, drowning and fire. Do you think—?’

  Ellie was grim. ‘I think they’ll discover Walt died from a fall down the stairs. He did have high blood pressure, so that may have been a factor in his death.’

  Susan was round-eyed. ‘You think he was pushed?’

  Rafael said, ‘Once is coincidence. Two is what?’

  Ellie said, ‘I don’t know. One thing is for certain: today’s victim was not killed by his wife. All the women were here and alibi one another. My friend Lesley in the police force is looking into the matter, because if it’s not a coincidence it could be something more serious. She’s told me not to let the women leave here because the police may want to interview them. Anyway, I can’t turn them out, for pity’s sake. They’re in shock. They really are. I’m trying to find beds for them all tonight. Tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, they’ll move on then.’

  She was not aware that she had crossed her fingers till she saw Rafael notice what she was doing.

  Rafael said, ‘Pardon my French, but isn’t your daughter being rather high-handed?’

  Ellie stiffened, then relaxed. He was being tactful, but he was quite right. Rafael was looking at her with a quizzical air, and Susan with compassion. They knew what Diana was like because they’d experienced her at first hand. They were not going to embarrass Ellie by voicing their low opinion of Diana, but they were not going to be fooled by flimflam. They were waiting for her reaction to Rafael’s question. She could pretend she didn’t know what they were talking about. On the other hand, Ellie had come to regard Rafael and Susan as friends whose judgement she respected. She thought she could trust them.

  Some people might think it would be disloyal of Ellie to criticize her daughter to people who were not family, but Ellie had found Diana’s recent behaviour disturbing. It was true that her daughter had been under great stress, but even so, she had made what amounted to threats to her mother.

  Ellie tried to make her voice colourless as she decided to share some of her burden. ‘Currently Diana expects me to fund a divorce for her. She believes I can access the trust fund to subsidize her. I’ve told her that I can’t do that, but she doesn’t listen. She sees me living in this big house and she wants me to move out and leave it to her. It might sound sensible if Thomas and I were ready to downsize, but we aren’t. I do sympathize with Diana. She’s in a difficult situation.’ That sounded weak. She knew it, and so did they.

  Rafael put his glasses back on, then took them off again. The businessman in him was back in control. ‘You could, perhaps, thin
k about giving Thomas a Power of Attorney? Just in case anything should happen?’

  Delicately put, but the meaning was clear. What would Diana’s position be if Ellie met with an accident and was incapacitated, or worse … if she were to die?

  She said, ‘Already done. With my solicitor. Diana won’t get any change out of him.’

  Rafael somehow refrained from saying, ‘Good girl!’ though Ellie thought he was going to do just that.

  Susan was concerned. ‘Rafael, if Mrs Quicke is short of money, do you think you might help her out?’

  Before Ellie could speak, Rafael scotched the suggestion. ‘Susan, Susan! Mrs Quicke is a woman of many parts. If she had wanted to borrow money from me, I would have been delighted to oblige, but my instinct tells me she has a substantial rainy-day account.’

  Ellie grinned. ‘I do, but that’s a secret. This house eats money. I had planned to paint the outside next year, and the boiler is going to need replacing some time, so I do put money aside for maintenance every year. Thank you both for your concern but honestly, I’m all right.’

  ‘Oh, good. Sorry I spoke.’ Susan blushed, embarrassed at having spoken out. She busied herself opening the oven door, releasing a wonderful aroma of lamb and herbs into the kitchen. ‘How many did you say there’s going to be for supper?’

  Ellie gulped. The aroma of freshly baked meat made her realize she hadn’t eaten anything but a sandwich since breakfast. Oh, and a biscuit or two. Neither had her guests.

  Ellie counted on her fingers. ‘Diana for one. She’s in the guest room next to ours. Then there’s Barbie. She’s in the room at the end of the corridor. Her husband, Bunny Brewster, was the first to die and he did so in the way suggested, in jest, by Diana. Bunny got his pills mixed up and died, verdict misadventure. Only, his first wife and son have thrown Barbie out of the house which she thought was going to be left to her and have denied her access to her valuables. She’s probably the oldest of the women, but she’s a survivor. Somehow, she’ll cope. Also, she’s had longer to come to terms with her husband’s death and is beginning to look to the future.