Murder in Mind

by Veronica Heley

  She nodded. ‘You’ve managed to make all safe?’

  ‘One more to go. Himself’s round the back.’

  She found Stewart checking over a back door which was hanging open. The upstairs windows here looked all right, but there was a familiar wash of muddy water around her feet. And that smell!

  Stewart looked tired. ‘Nearly done. The front of the house isn’t safe to enter so the firemen broke in from the back to fight the flames from this side, too. This is the last door we’ll have to board over. The windows downstairs are just cracked, and it may be safe to leave them as is. Then home and a shower before supper.’

  ‘Can the house be saved?’

  He shrugged. ‘Hard to say. I spoke to the firemen before they left. One lot had stayed overnight to make sure no more fires broke out. He said no one should try to go in to the front until they’d worked out if it were arson or not – though he thinks it was – and a surveyor has given the all clear. There’s a risk of ceilings falling in there, and the staircase has almost burned through.

  ‘The electricity’s out, of course. Fortunately, the fire didn’t reach the gas boiler or the whole lot would have gone up. The house was solidly built, and from what I’ve seen, the main structure is sound enough. My guess is that everything in the rooms at the front is a write-off while at the back the damage is from nearly all from smoke and water. Mrs Hooper was dying to get into the house to rescue some of her belongings, but her bedroom was at the front so I couldn’t let her.’

  Ellie picked her words with care. ‘Was Angelika very distressed?’

  A tired grin. ‘You mean, did she come on to me? Well, she tried, poor little thing. I felt like putting her over my knee. Then I wished I could take her home to Maria to look after. She’s had a rough few days, hasn’t she? She needed a shoulder to cry on.

  ‘It sounds as if you saved her life, whipping her away from the house as you did. What a carry on! At first I thought she was exaggerating what she’d been through, especially about the phone line being cut, but when I’d had a look around at the back here, I saw where someone has severed the phone line into the house. It’s over here . . .’ He showed her the cut line, shaking his head. ‘I don’t think reporters would have done that, do you?’

  ‘There’s no reporters around now?’

  ‘There were a couple when I arrived. I sent them off sharpish, said I was the builder, carrying out orders to make the house secure. Angelika kept close to my side, said she was afraid they’d return to bother her again, but there’s been no sign of them for some time. I suppose they’ve got their story and gone on to the next one. To do her justice, Angelika did her best to help. Some neighbour or other came to keep her company for a while, she went to the shops to buy some sandwiches and hot drinks for us all at lunchtime, and after that I got her making detailed notes of everything we’ve done to secure the house.’

  One of his men called out, ‘We’re short of a board for the door. What do you think?’

  Stewart turned back to Ellie. ‘I have to get this sorted. Can’t leave that door hanging off its hinges. Do you want to wait for me?’

  Ellie nodded. ‘I’ve got a cab outside, but I’ll send it on home.’

  Ellie went back to Stewart’s car and explained to Angelika that she was going to have to stay on till Stewart finished. ‘Now, I collected Freya from the hospital and dropped her off at my place before I came on here. The cab’s in the road, waiting for me. Would you like to go back in that, to be with her? She’s been sitting at her father’s bedside all day. She’s dead on her feet.’

  ‘How is Evan? I kept trying to ring the hospital, but they said they’d only give information out to family, as if I wasn’t! It’s just as if I don’t exist.’

  Ellie avoided comment. Had Diana brainwashed the nurses to believe that only she and Freya had the right to news of Evan? ‘He’s in a side ward now. Diana’s going in to sit with him this evening.’

  A resigned nod. ‘I’ll wait for you.’ She got into the back seat, pushing aside some takeaway sandwiches and coffee cups. She helped herself to some bottled water. ‘Want something to eat or drink? Philip got these in for me, but I don’t eat mayonnaise on tuna, or drink coffee.’

  NINETEEN

  Alarm bells rang in Ellie’s head. ‘Philip . . .? You mean Philip?’

  ‘Mm. He’d heard about the fire so came round to see if he could do anything. He went and got some food and drink for me without asking what I’d like. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying I couldn’t eat what he’d bought, so I waited till he’d gone before I went and got a salad for myself.’

  Ellie felt a trickle of fear down her back. ‘Did you tell him where you were living?’

  ‘Might have. Why?’

  ‘You didn’t touch any of the stuff he brought you?’

  ‘I said, didn’t I? What’s bothering you?’

  ‘I think, though I may be wrong, that your being a picky eater might have saved your life.’ Ellie rummaged around for a plastic bag in her handbag – always useful to carry the odd purchase in nowadays when shops were trying to cut down on providing carrier bags – and popped the sandwich and the coffee into it. ‘I think we should let the police have these.’

  ‘What?’ Angelika turned round in her seat to face Ellie. ‘You think Philip was trying to poison me? That’s silly. I know he’s a bit odd, but he’s not stupid. You’re just trying to frighten me.’

  ‘About time, too. Surely you understand that these deaths are connected, that someone is trying to kill off all Evan’s family?’

  What little colour there was drained from Angelika’s face. ‘You really think he was . . .? But why? I mean, he is a bit creepy, but I’ve always been perfectly nice to him.’

  ‘I think it’s a question of his wanting Evan to suffer, so he’s killing off everyone around him.’

  Angelika flushed. ‘You mean that he killed Abigail just because Evan was her father? That’s . . . that’s monstrous! No, I can’t believe it.’

  ‘We’ll give the police the food and drink he brought for you. They’ll soon tell us if it’s got anything harmful in it.’

  ‘You’re quite wrong! He was ever so nice to me this time, asked me how I was feeling and how was Evan doing, and I assumed . . .’ She broke off with a sob. ‘You know, it’s like a dream, my life with Evan and Abigail, living in that house. You must think me a total cow, but I can’t seem to feel anything, about anything or anybody.’

  ‘Shock,’ said Ellie, almost able to sympathize with the girl.

  Angelika stared out of the window at the blackened shell of the house. ‘As soon as Abigail died, I knew it was over with Evan. I could see it in his eyes. Then there was your daughter ready to take over, and I knew she’d flatten me. I thought there’d be a reasonable financial settlement, enough to get me a nice flat somewhere. I’ve always had plenty of work till now, so . . . I’ll take jolly good care not to get pregnant again, I can tell you.’

  ‘Did you get pregnant with Evan by accident?’

  A twist of her shoulders. ‘Not really. I don’t know. He was so . . . I thought he was going to transform my life. He wanted a son so badly, and he said it wouldn’t make any difference to my career because he could afford a nanny, so why not? The scans weren’t really clear, and then there was Abigail and she was definitely not a boy but totally Evan, if you know what I mean. I thought we could muddle through, though after a while I could see . . . And then Diana . . . I will not go back to filling shelves in the supermarket!’

  Ah, so that was Angelika’s background, was it? It explained a lot. ‘Surely Evan will make you a generous settlement?’

  ‘Not if he dies. I have a horrible feeling that he will and I’ll have to go through the courts to get anything at all because I signed something called a prenup which means I don’t get anything if we divorce and I’m sure Diana will fight me for the business, and I wouldn’t be any good at running that anyway. My guess is that Diana will scoop the lot.’ />
  ‘Now, come on! You are Mrs Hooper, Evan’s legal wife. Surely it’s up to you to . . .’ Ellie’s voice faded away. Angelika was not the baddie she’d been made out to be, but she wasn’t a strong personality who could take control of this situation. Diana probably would trample all over her.

  Ellie struggled with an idea. It wasn’t at all the sort of thing which she ought to suggest. It was sneaky and it would do Diana no good at all. On the other hand, Ellie felt some sympathy for Angelika. ‘You are signed up with a modelling agency?’

  ‘They’re not being frantically helpful. They don’t think I can take any more jobs till after Abigail’s funeral, and goodness knows when that will be; poor little tyke, she didn’t deserve this.’

  ‘The agency hasn’t suggested that you might be able to cash in on your moment of fame, sell your story to the newspapers? “How My Life was Wrecked”, sort of thing?’

  Angelika’s eyes narrowed in calculation. ‘It had crossed my mind, but then I thought it was all too difficult to arrange and Evan would hate it, though goodness knows I needn’t worry about that now, need I?’

  ‘Perhaps you might talk to your agency about it, discuss what could be done? Why don’t you take my cab on back home and think about it?’

  ‘I might as well. But you’re wrong about Philip, you know.’

  Ellie saw Angelika into the cab, then went back round the house to see if Stewart had finished. Which he had. Wearily, seeing the last of his men off. ‘The house is as safe as I can make it. Shall I take you home now?’

  ‘One last thing. Mr Abel was taken in for questioning by the police this afternoon, because Diana wanted him out. They think he had motive and opportunity for setting the fire.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘I wish I were. I set my solicitor to work, and he got Mr Abel out, but Diana has cleared his desk and won’t allow him back. I wondered –’ with an angelic-seeming smile – ‘whether you or I ought to phone Mr Abel this evening? We had thought there was plenty of time to let him know we have a job waiting for him, but now . . .?’

  Stewart smoothed out a grin. ‘Diana will be furious when she finds out we’ve given him a job.’

  ‘Mm. So, would you like to ring him, or shall I?’

  ‘I will. Definitely.’ Stewart laughed out loud. ‘Bless you, Mrs Quicke.’

  She was wistful. ‘Can’t you bring yourself to call me “Ellie”, after all we’ve been through together?’

  ‘I’ve talked this through with Maria. I feel more comfortable this way.’

  Oh well. Perhaps, one day . . .

  Now, what else must she do before she went to bed? Phone the police. Tell them what Monique had said, give them an address where Philip might be contacted. Ask them to collect the picture of the clown and the food and drink Philip had given Angelika. Ears would probably be sarcastic about Ellie losing the picture, but that couldn’t be helped. She wasn’t superwoman, was she?

  Oh dear, she did so hate having to talk to Ears . . . but perhaps he’d be out, and she could just leave a message.

  Her luck was out, and he was in. She tried not to sound unsure of herself, but could hear her voice lacking assurance as she reminded him that no one had yet collected the photograph of the clown from her. ‘Also, there’s been another development. You know Evan has a rather unsatisfactory son? Well, he may well have gone off his rocker . . . I mean, he’s been seeing a quack “therapist” who has put some very odd ideas into his head . . . What I mean is, he may well think he has a reason to harm Evan and the rest of the family.’

  Ears barked at her, ‘Now what red herring are you trying to drag in?’

  She quailed, but persisted. ‘Philip found Angelika at their house and gave her some sandwiches and some coffee which luckily she didn’t touch, and I’ve kept them so that you can check if they contain poison—’

  ‘Stop right there! You really cannot expect me to take your suspicions seriously. All the deaths in that family have been accidental. Or misadventure. The only crime so far has been arson, and we have a suspect for that. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Don’t waste my time.’ The phone crashed down.

  Ellie noticed her hand was trembling as she replaced the receiver. Oh dear, oh dear. Yet she was sure she was right. At least, she was pretty sure she was right. She took a deep breath. There was one thing she could do to make herself feel better, and that was to ring Thomas and have a good old gossip. And put in a spot of prayer afterwards.

  Wednesday morning

  Breakfast was a difficult, mostly silent affair. Ellie was worrying about how to get rid of her guests and reorganize the house in time to receive Thomas’s family.

  Thomas had been concerned about her when she’d rung him the previous evening. He’d said he’d better miss the last few sessions and return early. Naturally, she’d told him that she was perfectly all right, that he was not to worry about her and absolutely not to think of leaving early.

  She knew he’d continue to worry and to pray for her, which she found most helpful, rather like being buoyed up in the sea with water wings. The waves might become choppy, but she wouldn’t drown while he was her lifebelt. And Jesus. Whatever. She really must put in some praying time about, well, everything.

  The two girls had their own preoccupations at breakfast. Every few minutes Freya would look at the clock and wonder aloud how soon she could ring the hospital. Angelika toyed with her breakfast cereal, keeping her eyes down.

  Vera and Rose were united in an attempt to make Mikey attend to his table manners. The boy was sullen and uncooperative. He slid out of the kitchen as soon as he could in order to run round the garden on his scooter, even though it was raining. Vera ordered him back in, saying he wasn’t to go into the garden without permission. At which he put out his tongue at her and hauled his scooter up the stairs to the top storey to resume his endless running around there.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Vera, flushed and uncomfortable.

  Ellie said, ‘It’s I who am sorry. We’ve always planned to fence part of the garden off for use by whoever moves into the top storey, and we’ll get round to it as soon as we can. Young things need a bit of space.’

  ‘Young things,’ said Rose, ‘need to know their place. Now you’ve forbidden him the garden, Vera, he’ll be back there in no time at all.’

  This word of truth caused a certain amount of coolness between Vera and Rose, although, if she’d been asked, Vera would probably have agreed with the sentiment.

  Diana’s phone call broke up the tension around the breakfast table. She was as crisp and to the point as always. ‘Evan is to be operated on this morning. I shall sit with him till he goes down to theatre. The office is closed for the day, and the phones switched to the answer machine. I spent last night at a hotel and will call round shortly to get an update from you about the Hooper house.’

  ‘But . . .!’ said Ellie as the phone was cut off. To the dead phone she said, ‘Oh well. You can sort that out with Monique.’ She put the receiver down, worrying about how soon the police would be able to take Philip off the streets.

  Freya hovered. ‘What can I do to help?’

  Ellie bit back some sharp words. Would the girl help with the housework, make her own bed, clean her shower and toilet? Shop and cook for everyone? Er, no; she wouldn’t.

  But Freya wanted — no, needed — to be of use. Ellie led the way to the dining room and laid out all the materials which Betsey from Harmony in the Home had sent her. There were sheets of suggestions for this and that. Swatches of fabric. Photographs of furniture available for hire.

  ‘What’s all this?’ Angelika, following them. ‘Looks like Betsey’s work to me. Oh, look at this gorgeous fabric. What are you planning to do with it, Mrs Quicke?’

  Ellie explained about the projected visit of Thomas’s relations and how they needed to reorganize the house. For one thing, she didn’t think the torn dining-room curtain could be mended in ti
me, so they were going to need a complete new set of curtains. Then they needed to shift Thomas’s office into the library and turn his old office into his new quiet room. This would in theory make another bedroom available upstairs, for which they needed furniture and furnishings. And . . . and . . .

  ‘But,’ said Ellie, in despair, ‘I’ve only one pair of hands and young Mikey’s laid claim to a corner of the library and Thomas is away for another day, and I really don’t see how we can be ready in time.’

  ‘We can sort this for you,’ said Angelika, running an experienced eye over the swatches of material. ‘I don’t think much of the flowered chintz for this room, but . . . what do you think of this cream and gold brocade, Freya? Too old-fashioned?’

  ‘Mikey’s only trying it on, being in a new place,’ said Freya, drawing up a chair beside Angelika. ‘Vera was telling me all about him last night . . .’

  The front doorbell rang, and Ellie left them to it.

  A stranger. No, the first Mrs Hooper in a superbly-cut black overcoat, carrying a handbag the size of a suitcase. A sleek black car stood outside, matching her elegance.

  ‘Monique?’

  ‘If I may come in? It’s stopped raining but the wind’s getting up. I couldn’t get any sense out of the hospital about Evan’s condition—’

  ‘Too many Mrs Hoopers, I fear,’ said Ellie, closing the door behind her visitor. ‘Diana’s sitting with him at the moment, but he’s going down to the theatre this morning for an operation.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘I don’t know. Something to do with the concussion. Releasing pressure on the brain? I’ll ring and see if we can get some news about when he’s likely to be back in the ward.’

  Monique looked about her. Nodded approval of the wide hall, polished staircase and conservatory. ‘I tried ringing my son’s place last night and again this morning. The nanny said he wasn’t with her any more. I didn’t believe her.’

  ‘I’ve rung the police, given them what information I have. I hope they’ll pick him up before he can do any more damage.’