Murder by Mistake

by Veronica Heley

  ‘What a week! Light of my life, I fear I’ve been neglecting you, what with the conference and the tidying up afterwards. You left this on my desk. It’s the file for Ursula’s wedding, isn’t it? When do they start moving furniture around? You won’t need to upset my study, will you? I must say, Ursula’s been most businesslike. I’m sorry I missed her when she called.’

  Now was the time to tell him about Diana’s plans. If she could find the words. ‘I missed her, too.’ She took the file from him and leafed through it. ‘She’s a good girl, wants to give us as little trouble as possible. She even wanted to pay for moving the furniture and cleaning up afterwards, though of course I’ll cover that. And she’s asked for all the bills to go to her. Unlike some.’

  He didn’t pick that hint up. ‘I must remember to put the time of the wedding rehearsal in my diary. Six thirty on Friday evening, isn’t it? I’d better check. Do we give them a wedding present?’

  ‘She said no. She said our allowing them to hold the reception here was more than sufficient, but I’d like to give her something. Which reminds me that Diana—’

  ‘Ah. Before I forget. There was a phone call from her just now. She’s sending somebody round to see you tomorrow morning, didn’t say what for.’

  ‘She’s getting married again.’

  He looked at his watch. ‘To that man she’s been living with? She’ll expect a wedding present, I suppose, even if Ursula doesn’t. I wonder if I’ve got time to ring someone.’ He got to his feet. ‘What sort of wedding present does one give when someone like Diana remarries? Something disposable for another short-term marriage?’ He went off into the house, humming to himself.

  Ellie sat on, holding Ursula’s file.

  Thomas was no doubt right. She couldn’t see Diana’s second marriage lasting any longer than her first. If as long as that. Stewart had been patient and kind. Denis was neither patient nor kind. If Ellie were a betting woman . . . but she was not.

  She stepped through the open doors into the conservatory and was startled to see a small grey figure turn from the plants. It was only Rose, fingering the earth in a pot to see if it needed water, but for a moment Ellie could have sworn she’d seen the ghost of her aunt. It didn’t help that Miss Quicke and Rose were of similar build and that Rose seemed to think her old employer was still hanging around.

  Rose was shaking her head. ‘It’s very close, isn’t it? Do you think there’ll be a thunderstorm? Miss Quicke says not, but it does feel like it, doesn’t it? She also says you must take extra care when you leave the house.’

  There was no point arguing with Rose at such times. It only upset her. Ellie said, ‘I’ll take care.’

  ‘Mia’s turned me out of my own kitchen, said to tell you supper will be five minutes. You can see what I mean about a visit to the Garden Centre, can’t you? We’re a little short of glamour in here if this is where they want to take the photographs. They could take them in the garden, but if the weather’s on the turn that’ll be a washout.’

  Rose produced an envelope. ‘I forgot. This came for you, it was lying on the mat in the hall, but I don’t think it’s junk mail. Looks more like a birthday card, and it’s got your name on it.’

  It was a Deepest Sympathy card. ‘Thinking of you in your loss.’

  Ellie’s first idea was to tear it up and thrust it into the garbage. But no. She must report it to the police.

  ‘Rose, did anyone come from the police to collect the black bin bag I left outside?’

  ‘Were they meant to? You should have told me. I saw a bag outside this morning and it had some dead flowers in it. I was going to empty them out on to the rubbish heap at the back of the tool shed, but they were stuck into an Oasis, so I put the whole lot out for collection as it’s dustbin day. Was that wrong?’

  Ellie was annoyed with herself. Of course she ought to have warned Rose. It wasn’t Rose’s fault that the flowers had been put in the dustbin. She made herself smile. ‘Not to worry. Not important. I’ll tell the police about this card in the morning.’

  Wednesday morning

  ‘Thomas, before you start work, I have a confession to make.’ She’d slept better last night, but was still inclined to get flashbacks to the accident.

  ‘Light of my life . . .!’ he protested, throwing keys and money into his pockets. ‘Can’t it wait? I’m meeting someone up in town for a coffee and a chat. I did warn you, didn’t I?’

  Thomas had officially retired from running a parish, but editing a national Christian magazine brought him into contact with all and sundry – and very sundry some of them could be, too.

  ‘No, it can’t wait,’ said Ellie. ‘I didn’t want it to happen but it has, and I feel thoroughly upset and ashamed of myself that I didn’t tell you before, but with Diana sending people round this morning, you’re bound to find out.’

  ‘You look five years old. Whatever have you done? Broken the best china teapot?’

  ‘I wish. Diana intends to hold her wedding reception here. This Saturday. She didn’t ask me. She told me. The invitations have already gone out.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘On the same day as Ursula, but in the afternoon.’

  ‘I think I’ll find myself something else to do that afternoon. Out of the house.’

  ‘Wish I could, too. She’s having a sit down meal for fifty, followed by a disco in the evening for a hundred people. She’s sending all the bills to me.’

  ‘Perhaps we could go away for the night? No, no. Of course we can’t. She’s your daughter.’

  ‘I’d love to go away for the night. Perhaps we can. She won’t want us around, casting gloom over the proceedings, and I can’t find it in me to bless this marriage. Any advice?’

  He stroked his beard. ‘My love, what can I say, except that every family has a member of the awkward squad, and we just have to cope with them as best we can. Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do my best to oblige . . . except that marry them in church I will not.’

  ‘Registry office at two. All fixed.’

  ‘Then all I can suggest is that you get out your finest feathers, book yourself a facial and a massage and whatever else it is that women do on these occasions. Get as much enjoyment out of it as you can.’

  ‘I was so looking forward to Ursula’s wedding, and now – it’s all spoilt.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. We will both beam with happiness during Ursula’s wedding and be civil at Diana’s. Right? Now I must go or I’ll be late. I’ll put in a spot of prayer about it. Mia’s coping all right? She looks a lot better to me. New clothes, ordering Rose out of her kitchen, cooking us a delicious supper.’

  ‘I have to see her mother some time. Mrs Prior’s pleading innocence.’

  ‘Mm. Sounds unlikely.’ He tore out of the house, checking his watch as he did so.

  Ellie dithered. What should she do next? Ah, ring the police to report latest developments. She did so. WDC Milburn was not free to take her call, so Ellie left a message, apologizing for the loss of the wreath but reporting the arrival of the sympathy card.

  WEDNESDAY MORNING. . .

  He wasn’t the sort to bite his nails, but he was beginning to understand why people did. The suspense was killing him. She had all that money, which she didn’t need but he did. So why hadn’t she died as she ought to have done?

  They said an Englishman’s home was his castle, but modern houses are not equipped with drawbridges or portcullises to repel boarders. She had to come out some time, and as soon as she did, he’d hear about it. And if she didn’t come out, why . . . tradesmen, friends went in. He would find a way to get to her, sooner rather than later.

  There were only three days to go.

  SEVEN

  Wednesday morning

  Ellie couldn’t make up her mind. She needed to visit Mrs Prior, but she also needed to be around when Diana sent people over to talk about her wedding reception. She rang Diana on her mobile. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but what time am I to expect your caterer
s and so on?’

  ‘The Party Planner will be with you at half past eleven to tell you what needs to be done. Oh, and sometime today I’ll be coming over to have a fitting for my wedding dress. Probably this afternoon.’

  ‘I was planning to go out.’

  ‘Don’t argue about it, Mother. I can’t possibly have the fitting at home or at the office, or Denis will see it.’

  ‘Why not at the dressmaker’s?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Mother. I haven’t time to go all the way up to Bond Street. Luckily the fitter lives in Ealing and will come to me on her way home.’ The phone went dead. Diana could be very abrupt.

  Ellie shrugged, found Mrs Prior’s letter and dialled her phone number. ‘Ellie Quicke here. You wanted news of Mia?’

  ‘You might as well come over straight away. I have to leave the house this afternoon.’ Down went the phone. Oh well.

  Ellie rang the cab company, ordered a car, popped into the kitchen to make sure Mia and Rose were content to be on their own for a while – which they were, with their heads together over a recipe – and made for the front door. Only to be stopped by the phone ringing.

  It was Stewart. ‘Sorry to trouble you, but you know that house we talked about last night? I asked my assistant Elaine about it and don’t like what she told me. I’ve got an appointment out first thing, but then I’m going to pop into the office, see what I can get out of the files, and bring it on to you. If that’s convenient.’

  ‘Sure. I’ll be out for about an hour. See you after that.’

  Her minicab arrived and she got in, glad to be out of the house for a short while. Mia’s presence was a bit deadening, wasn’t it? Ellie didn’t regret asking the girl to stay, though it did look as if she’d be around longer than had been intended. Ellie couldn’t see the girl being ready to leave for some time. Where would she go? What would she do?

  Dear Lord, over to You on this one. I haven’t a clue. By the way, could You make sure the police are checking up on the wreath and the sympathy card?

  Now, I must call in on the flower shop, see if they can tell me who sent lilies and roses to Mia.

  The cab turned off the road into the winding drive that led to the Prior’s house. Ellie had only seen it in the dark before and was impressed. It was long, low and white, twenties-style, immaculately maintained and with an expensive, chauffeur-driven car in front.

  Ellie asked her cab driver to wait, as she hoped not to be long. The front door of the house opened and a man in an expensive business suit emerged, turning his head back to speak to someone inside. The chauffeur leaped out of the limousine and held the door open for the suit wearer.

  The suit had been handmade in a silk mixture. The man inside it gave Ellie a long stare and, ignoring the open door of his car, waited till she approached.

  ‘You are Mrs Quicke? I trust you bring Adelina some good news about her unfortunate daughter. I would not have left her alone with a stranger, but she insists that you mean her no harm. You understand that she is very fragile? She has been hurt so much already.’ So saying, the suit got himself into his car and was driven away.

  Fragile was not a word Ellie would have associated with Mrs Prior, who now appeared in the doorway. ‘Come in.’ An order, not a request.

  Ellie obeyed. She followed her hostess through a square hall into a white drawing room, which gave her time to observe that losing a few stone had wrought a wonderful change in Adelina. Her hair was still blonded, but her hairdresser had achieved a softer, looser cut which was very becoming. Her face and figure had been slimmed down by heaven only knew what rigorous diet, and she was now as glamorous a figure as you could wish to see. Probably down to a size fourteen and aiming for twelve. She was upholstered in black, with a low neckline and short sleeves, and sported a deep tan which might or might not have come out of a bottle.

  Ellie could now understand why Mia had described her mother as a beauty and a honeypot; she had a remarkable presence and oozed sex.

  ‘Sit,’ ordered Adelina.

  Ellie sat. The chair was large and deep. If she sat back in it, her feet wouldn’t reach the floor, so she perched on the edge.

  ‘You have some good news for me, I hope? Mia is with you?’ Her voice was low and deep. Hadn’t Shakespeare said that a low voice was an excellent thing in a woman?

  Ellie nodded.

  ‘Does she intend to stay long?’ The woman seated herself in a low armchair and crossed a pair of remarkably fine legs.

  Ellie tucked her own legs under her chair. ‘That’s up to her. At least until after Ursula’s wedding on Saturday.’

  ‘This whole business –’ the woman waved a hand sparkling with rings – ‘has been most upsetting. Poor Mia. If only she had called out to let me know that she was being treated so badly. I can’t forgive myself for not having realized . . .! But there; my husband that was, and her brothers, assured me that Mia was ill and didn’t wish to see anyone. I imagined measles, or chicken pox. It was the most dreadful shock to discover what had really been going on.’

  Ellie gave the woman almost full marks for her sorrowful act. What an actress! The businessman who’d just left must have been easy meat.

  Adelina produced a tissue and applied it tenderly to the corner of each eye, without in any way disturbing her make-up. She even managed a sniff. ‘Perhaps the worst of it is that I’ve been forbidden to help my daughter in any way, even to phone her or send her a letter. Of course I don’t blame you, for how were you to know? But I even have to pack up and leave my lovely home, just because she chooses to stay with you, instead of returning to her mother’s arms. It is very hard.’

  Ellie’s eyebrows were almost up to her hairline. ‘It must be. And to think of your dear husband and those handsome boys of his in jail. Devastating. I assume you visit?’

  ‘Well, no. My solicitor advises . . . and they’ve been moved around a bit. The boys, I mean. Some trouble. I really don’t wish to know the details. A quarrelsome pair. I knew the eldest had a short fuse, but really . . . No, I really can’t subject myself to . . . And I’ve divorced Mr Prior, naturally.’

  ‘Naturally. So where do you plan to go when you leave here?’

  ‘A kind friend has offered me sanctuary in a flat in the Barbican. Do you know it? Very fine views, I believe.’

  ‘Close to his office, no doubt.’

  The woman stared at Ellie. ‘I trust you aren’t hinting at anything untoward? I’m sure my friend would take that badly.’ The mask was off; Adelina shed the ‘poor me’ role to reveal the strong personality beneath.

  ‘So, how may I help you?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘I need to know how my daughter is doing, what medication she’s on, what therapy she’s taking.’

  Ah. The woman wanted to know this so that she could build a case against Mia, prove the girl didn’t know what she was doing or saying when she accused her family of rape? Above all, prove she was unfit to give evidence against her mother?

  ‘She’s taking her time,’ said Ellie, ‘recovering. I don’t think you’d guess what she’s been through, to look at her now.’

  This was not what the woman wanted to hear. ‘I understood she’s very confused about the tragic events of last New Year’s Eve.’

  Ellie looked at her watch. Now she’d discovered what the woman was after, she couldn’t get away fast enough. ‘She’s fine. I’m afraid I have to go. Another appointment.’

  ‘With her doctor? I would welcome his assessment. Will you accompany her? Is she using our old family doctor? I could ring him, make an appointment for her, make sure he understands the position.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ellie, getting to her feet with some difficulty since her chair was so low, ‘but that won’t be necessary. Let me have your new address in due course, won’t you? Is it going to be necessary to put this house on the market?’

  ‘I’ve arranged a private sale already. Of course I get this house as my share of the divorce settlement, plus alimony.’ The woman k
ept pace with Ellie on her retreat to the front door. Now she laid a be-ringed hand on Ellie’s arm. ‘I won’t offend you by saying that I’d make it worth your while to keep me informed but, as a mother yourself, you must realize what I’m going through.’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ said Ellie, wondering what would have happened if Diana and Mia had changed places at birth, and mentally reeling at the thought. If Diana was hard and greedy now, what would she have been like if she’d been taught the ways of the world by this woman? The mind boggled. Perhaps there was something to be grateful for in the present situation, after all.

  Once out in the drive, Ellie took a deep breath of fresh air. A white van had arrived in her absence, parked with its motor idling at the side of the house. A tradesman?

  As Ellie walked down the drive the van started up behind her. She saw her cab driver look up, startled. A glance over her shoulder made her realize that the van was bearing down on her on the wrong side of the drive.

  She wouldn’t have enough time to reach her cab before . . .

  She tried to catch the van driver’s eye, but the windscreen was tinted.

  She looked around, wildly, giving way to panic.

  The van was almost upon her.

  There were low growing shrubs on either side of the drive. She took a dive into them as her cab driver screamed, and the van thundered past.

  She’d landed in a pittosporum. A pretty, curly-leaved pale green shrub much favoured by flower-arrangers. Reasonably springy.

  She extricated herself with some difficulty, helped up by her shocked cab driver.

  ‘You all right?’

  She tested her arms and legs. ‘I’ve lost a shoe. Can you find it?’

  ‘Let me see, let me see. Whatever did that man mean, driving like that, he should have his licence taken away.’

  ‘Did you get his number?’

  ‘Why would I bother with his number? He is just a white van man, and they are two a penny in London, no? Ah, here is your shoe, a little bit of earth inside it, but not to worry, it is all right to wear. Can you walk?’