Murder by Suspicion

by Veronica Heley

  Agnes took the weeds off her and dumped them in the waste paper basket. ‘They weren’t from my garden, I assume.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Ellie. ‘From next door. I really don’t know why I picked them up, except that I couldn’t bear to let them seed all over your beautiful garden. Who do you have to help you? I have a gardener once a week, but he’s not much good.’

  ‘A local lad. Mind, I have to stand over him. They don’t teach them anything practical nowadays, do they?’

  Ellie wasn’t really listening. She told herself that there was no point panicking about something that was all over and done with months ago. She said, ‘I should explain that some time ago Claire went to work for an elderly lady who died, leaving something to the Vision, and now there’s a fuss about her will and selling her house. I’m wondering if Claire hastened her end, too.’

  Mikey was on his smartphone. ‘Shouldn’t she be had up for manslaughter, like, if not for murder?’

  Agnes leaned forward. ‘Beryl said it was something for her cough. She’d got it over the counter and not from the doctor, so it can’t have done her that much harm, can it?’

  Mikey was frowning. ‘Cough linctus can make you sleepy, can’t it?’

  Ellie tried to think straight. ‘I can’t be sure that Claire did spike my food, but Rose did say she was given a linctus for her cough, and she certainly was confused.’

  Agnes nodded. ‘Dizzy. Beryl was that dizzy she was staggering about all over the place.’

  Mr Cook said, ‘Nobody realized Beryl had a heart condition until it was too late. They did do a post-mortem so it must be right that she had a heart condition but, as we all know, Beryl wouldn’t hear of going to the doctor. So it was natural causes and not murder.’

  Agnes was having nothing of that. ‘If she hadn’t been feeling so dizzy, she wouldn’t have fallen into the flowers and had a heart attack, and she might have lived to make another will. It was the syrup that did for her.’

  Mikey mouthed, ‘Manslaughter,’ but only Ellie noticed.

  Emmanuel guffawed. ‘Well, whatever it was, the medicine did for Claire’s hope of inheriting.’

  Agnes tapped him on the back of his hand. ‘Now, then; you can’t prove anything. So it’s best we don’t chatter about it.’

  They’d discussed this many times before?

  Ellie looked at her watch. Was it running fast or slow? It was a bit erratic. ‘We must go. Look at the time. What I think is that we ought to ask a doctor what medication might make someone so confused that they’d walk under a car or whatever. Or, rather, the police ought to. I’ll phone Diana and get all the details for Lesley when I get back.’

  Mikey looked up from his iPad. ‘Whose is the Wi-Fi I’m using?’

  ‘Next door,’ said Emmanuel, heaving himself to his feet. ‘Malcolm uses it for his business, getting work in and invoices out, getting the bills paid. He’s properly clued up, banking online, all that. Me, I like a piece of paper in my hands.’

  Agnes agreed. ‘My sons tried to show me, wanted to set me up with Slype or something, but I said if I hadn’t got my lipstick on, I didn’t want people looking at me.’

  ‘I’m with you there,’ said Ellie, ‘but it’s the coming thing. I suppose.’

  Mikey lifted his forefinger. ‘Taxi ordered. Here in half an hour.’

  ‘Time for another cuppa?’ said Agnes. ‘Or would you like a turn round the garden?’

  ‘There’s nothing I’d like better than taking a turn round your garden,’ said Ellie, with truth. ‘There’s a hydrangea you’ve got in the front that I’m not familiar with. Is it a lace-cap? And your Japanese anemones … Where did you get the purple one?’

  Mikey and Emmanuel cast their eyes to heaven. ‘She’ll be for ever,’ said Mikey.

  ‘My gardening days are over,’ said Emmanuel. ‘Now, lad; help me down the steps to the pavement, will you? I can manage it all right if I take my time, but today I’ve got a couple of bottles in my shopping that I don’t want to drop …’

  Going home in the cab, Ellie was quiet. Counting on her fingers.

  Mikey sighed. ‘What is it?’ He shucked off his jacket and settled into a corner of the cab.

  ‘I think the Vision is in trouble financially. The operation they run must eat money, and Ambrose has an expensive lifestyle judging by his clothes and his car. I’m trying to work out what happened and when. For instance, how long ago did Beryl start going to the Vision and when did she start taking Claire? Who was it who suggested Beryl take the medication that affected her so badly? Did Claire think of it, or was Beryl introduced to it by someone at the Vision?’

  Mikey yawned widely. Had he been up all night, watching television? Well, that was no business of hers.

  Ellie worried away at the problem. Claire didn’t take the medication herself. No, she wasn’t exhibiting any of the symptoms. If anything, she was on the nervous side of the spectrum. But, Claire had seen what the linctus had done to her mother, had fed it to Rose and probably also to Ellie.

  Had she also fed it to the elderly lady she’d been working for, before she took the job of looking after Diana’s lively toddler?

  The Vision had occupied a large house in North London before they moved to Ealing. At that time they were already taking in waifs and strays, presumably recommended by … who? Local doctors? Hospitals? Social Services? Ambrose must be paid a whack for looking after them. Or, if they were unable to work and were on benefits, they must be getting some kind of living allowance. Dolores had said they were supposed to pass their benefit cheques on to Ambrose, but in the same breath admitted that some might have difficulty in doing so.

  Ellie had heard that Ambrose attracted a good crowd to his services. This must bring him in some sort of income, but would it be enough to cover the rent of a big house, feed all those dependants and subsidize his lifestyle? Um, probably not. The rent of even half of such a big house in that part of London would be astronomical.

  Ellie decided she really didn’t know enough about how such places were run.

  Back to when Beryl started to attend the Vision services. Ambrose was living in another rented house nearby, working his magic on a group of addicts and milking his fans for funds. Along comes the widowed Beryl and her unappetizing daughter Claire. Beryl falls under his spell and so does Claire, the ugly duckling who will never become a swan. Claire is earning good money, and presumably much of that finds its way into Ambrose’s hands.

  Ambrose notes that the two women are living in a pricey semi-detached house. Pound signs ring up in his eyes. Ambrose counts his chickens before they’re hatched and looks forward to getting his hands on Beryl and Claire’s house.

  He moves his operation to another, even bigger house in Ealing. Why? Perhaps the previous house was on a short lease? In this new place he finds himself with lots of room for his dependent addicts and a spacious flat all to himself.

  Query: ‘all to himself’, as there might be a Mrs around? Dolores had said Ambrose was celibate, but Ellie wasn’t sure about that. For instance, where did he go on Friday afternoons, that he couldn’t be contacted?

  Back to the present. He’s ensconced in his nice new house. What are the drawbacks? Well, for one thing, a big old house like that would need a lot of maintenance, and there were all those mouths to feed. It must be like running a hotel; food and cleaning and linen and general wear and tear. Also, the new house came with some sitting tenants who would be paying rent to the council, and not to him.

  On the other hand, some of the original tenants were elderly and not likely to cause any trouble. Others seemed to be there for a while and then move on, like Gail and her mother. Ambrose must have regarded them as an opportunity, rather than a problem, as Dolores had said he did try to convert them to his cause.

  On the plus side, with plenty of rooms to spare, Social Services – or whoever – could be invited to send him more clients.

  Ellie wondered who she might know in Social Services who could
give her the low-down on Ambrose’s occupation of this new house. Perhaps she should ask Lesley?

  Back to the present; if Ambrose was being backed by Social Security, he should by now be coining it with a bit over for his personal kitty, but it was possible that his eyes had been bigger than his stomach, that he hadn’t done his sums and was only just making ends meet.

  He’d have been thinking that when he got Beryl and Claire’s house, he’d be in clover. Only, when Beryl pops her clogs the house doesn’t fall into Ambrose’s hands. What’s more, Claire loses her job at the supermarket, so can’t contribute any more to his coffers. What a setback!

  So, what next? Claire was still under his spell. With the money she’d got out of Malcolm she bought a car, rented a decent flat in the Vision’s new house and took a job at the school while waiting for something better to come along.

  Then, oh dear! Claire lost her temper and her job in quick succession.

  Ellie sighed. Why hadn’t Ambrose realized that keeping Claire around was like handling a double-edged sword?

  Yes, she could earn money to give him, but her methods of earning her living were not exactly squeaky clean.

  Still, even after the court case, Ambrose persevered with Claire. He paid her fine, which got her off the hook in one way but was an entry on the wrong side of the red line in his accounts. How did he plan to recoup this loss? Well, he forced her to sell her car, and he moved her into spartan accommodation in the annexe. He told her to find another job. She did just that, looking after an old lady who, under the influence of some linctus or other – that’s not proven, but it seemed likely – departed this life leaving a will in Ambrose’s favour which this time had been properly signed and witnessed.

  Only, according to Diana, the family intervened, and the sale of the house was stopped.

  Then came the threat of the new house being sold over Ambrose’s head. A house could be sold if there were existing tenants, but the price would be low … Unless it depended on what sort of lease the tenants might have? The people put into the house by Social Services might be on monthly contracts and could easily be shifted elsewhere, but what about the old couple who’d been there for ever? It would cost something to get them to move, but it could be done. Likewise, Ambrose and his lot could be given notice to quit.

  The site would then be clear for redevelopment.

  Ellie wondered if Ambrose had ever tried to get a mortgage. Given his clientele, would anybody give him one? Probably not.

  Could he get Social Services to buy another property for him? No, they wouldn’t have several million to spare, and it was probably in their best interests to sell to a developer and pocket the cash.

  A clinging chorus of sycophants at his services might be good for Ambrose’s ego and bring in enough to pay the bills if he lived modestly, but would not be enough to purchase a large house in a good part of Ealing, where prices had gone through the roof.

  Back to Claire, out of a job when the old woman died. Claire then went to work for Diana, who must have seemed at first sight to be an easy touch … until she got to know her employer and realized that prizing Diana off her money bags was next to impossible. Anyway, little Evan was far too much for Claire to cope with.

  So, on to Rose. Ah, dear sweet Rose, who thought the best of everyone, and who had a pleasant little nest egg that would do nicely … until it was apparent that Rose’s estate was peanuts compared to the money in Ellie’s trust fund. And, just look! Ellie lived in such a nice, big house. Why, the Vision could almost fit into it … Or would it do for a second project?

  Ellie sighed. She thought she’d worked out what had happened, more or less, but there were a lot of things she needed to check.

  She poked Mikey, who had fallen asleep. ‘What have you been up to? Were you up late, watching the telly?’

  He stirred, but did not wake.

  Oh, the delights of being able to drop off to sleep, just like that. In the middle of the afternoon, too.

  Mikey was still asleep when they drew up outside his home, another big old house – though not as big as Ellie’s, or as that which the Vision currently occupied. Dan was rescuing it from years of neglect, and there was still some scaffolding up. Ellie asked the driver to toot his horn. Fortunately, Dan was at home and came out to see what the matter was.

  Ellie indicated the sleeping boy. ‘Too big for me to carry, and too deeply asleep for me to rouse.’

  Dan shook his head, smiling. ‘I’m so proud of the lad. He plays chess at night with some grandmaster in the States over the Internet. We allow him to do it at the weekends, provided he’s done his homework and some household chores. Thanks for bringing him back. Is his bike at your place? If so, I’ll get him to come round for it tomorrow. Are you coming in? Vera should be back in a minute.’ He lifted Mikey out of the cab and carried him inside the house.

  ‘No, I can’t stay.’ Ellie told the cab driver to wait while she collected Mikey’s satchel and jacket and followed Dan into the house. He laid Mikey out on the settee in the comfortable, not-too-tidy living room, while Ellie dumped his things in the hall.

  She said, ‘Will you tell Vera I’ve found someone to live in for a bit? Nice girl. Trainee chef.’

  ‘Tell me what?’ said Vera, who that very minute came through the front door. ‘Hi, Ellie. I’ve finished for the weekend. Want a cuppa? By the way, it was on the news last night about another local girl going missing, and I asked Dan if he knew her. Guess what! He does.’

  ‘Really? I’m all ears.’

  Dan shook his head. ‘She left us a year ago, so I really don’t …’

  Vera put her arm around him and kissed his ear. ‘It may be important. Tell her.’

  ‘Oh well … At the end of the summer term last year this girl was found after hours in the gym, with a queue of boys waiting their turn. She’d set it up. She wasn’t being pressured into giving sex. Far from it. She boasted that she’d had every member of the football team, and that checked out, too. She was just turned sixteen, which is the age of consent for sex, and she certainly had consented! So we informed Social Services and suggested the girl transferred to an all-girls school. Which I believe she did.’

  Oh. So the girl really was trailer trash. Ellie hesitated. ‘Would the police have been informed about this? She might have cleaned up her act since then. I wouldn’t want to blacken her name unnecessarily.’

  ‘I doubt if the police would have been told unless they checked with Social Services, who have a limited number of options in cases like this. They might have taken her into care, but they don’t like to do that unless the home circumstances are pretty dire, which in this case I don’t think they were. If she had been victimized …? But she wasn’t. Rather the reverse. It sounds as if they left her at home, put her into a different school and kept an eye on her. How much time she spent in her new school and how often she truanted, I can’t say. At seventeen she could legally leave school. She must be nearly that now.’

  Ellie sighed. ‘These young ones think sex is the answer to everything. I’ll pass the tip on. I’m sorry, Vera, I can’t stop today. Thomas is due back tomorrow, but we’ll catch up soon, all right?’

  Ellie got back into the cab and directed him to Diana’s house, trying to switch her mind back to Claire and away from a girl who might be no better than she should be, but who didn’t deserve to be kidnapped and held captive. How terrifying that must be. Oh, the poor thing …

  Another big, imposing house. Well, it suited Diana, who’d married a much older man. It was his fourth and her second marriage. It might last. With luck. Anyway, her grandson, little Evan, was a total delight when he wasn’t wrecking everything in sight.

  Ellie told the driver not to wait and rang the doorbell. Ellie could see the top of Diana’s husband’s head through the window in the snug. He was watching the sports channel. He might or might not have heard the bell, but he wouldn’t answer the door. In fact, he was probably having a nap.

  Diana came
to the door with Evan on her hip. Evan adored his mother, and the feeling, much to everyone’s surprise, was reciprocated. Diana did not normally ‘do’ lovey-dovey. With the exception of Evan, Diana did not believe in wasting energy on anyone who couldn’t do something for her in return.

  In Diana’s world, Ellie was judged to be useful. Ellie had babysat when Evan had been tiny, and she controlled all that lovely money through her trust, so must be accorded the minimum of respect. Most of the time, anyway.

  Typically, Diana’s opening words were not an invitation to come in and have a cup of tea but, ‘What do you want?’

  Ellie held back a sigh and stepped inside. ‘Yes, I’m very well, thank you. Expecting Thomas back tomorrow. I won’t take up much of your time, but your ex-nanny, Claire, has asked me for help, which I am not at all sure I want to give. I’ve been trying to trace her career. You told me you’d been asked to sell the house of an elderly lady who’d been looked after by Claire, and to whom she left an inheritance. Could you remember the woman’s name, by any chance?’

  ‘I’m all at sixes and sevens today.’ Diana shut the front door with some force, put Evan on the floor and set off down the passage, saying, ‘Hold on a minute. I’ve just put something on the stove. Give me one good reason why I should help Claire. After what that dreadful man said …’

  She went on talking as she disappeared, but Evan clamped his arms around Ellie’s leg and grinned up at her. She melted into a smile and said, ‘Let go, there’s a love.’

  ‘No!’

  Ellie knew that the first word most babies master is: ‘No!’ Perhaps Evan had been no earlier than others to say it, but he certainly knew what it meant. And used it. She tried to pry his fingers away. Result: another ‘No!’ Louder than the first.