Murder by Mistake

by Veronica Heley

  The boys watched her. Wary. Chewing. On closer inspection, it looked as if they’d been sleeping rough. Or roughing someone else up?

  There was a rapping on the back door and Rose went to see who wanted admission. She murmured something, and the man – whoever he was – disappeared.

  Thomas said, ‘Ellie, let me introduce you to the General, and his troops. General, say hello to the lady.’ The eldest boy muttered something around his sandwich, keeping his eyes on her the while.

  ‘Second in command, and therefore called the Major.’ The next biggest boy bobbed his head at Ellie and said, ‘Howdedo.’ Well, sort of.

  ‘Third in line, the Captain.’ This boy managed to clear his mouth long enough to say, ‘I want some more drink.’

  ‘And last, but not least, the Lieutenant.’

  The General had cleared his plate. ‘We’ve finished, so give us our stuff back.’

  ‘In a minute,’ said Thomas. ‘First of all, I want you to thank Mrs Quicke for allowing you into her house and giving you something to eat.’

  Mumble, mumble. The Captain reiterated his demand for more drink. Rose refilled his mug in silence.

  ‘Now,’ said Thomas, who could apparently control small boys as well as parish congregations, ‘I’d like you to tell Mrs Quicke how you came to be here.’

  The three youngest boys looked at the General, who shrugged but vouchsafed.

  ‘Dunno. She weren’t there like she should have been. At first we thought she was hiding, and we went all over the house, but she weren’t there. Except she might of been in the bathroom, I suppose, but it’s locked. There’s a separate toilet downstairs so we used that. We kicked around for a bit, but there was nothing much to eat, and we had no money to buy stuff with. So we went up by the shops, but they didn’t let us in, not all four of us at once, so we couldn’t nick anything much. Then we got really hungry and phoned Mum, but she was just off to have her hair done and said we’d better go round to Dad’s work. So we did, but he weren’t there. Diana wouldn’t give us any money, but said she’d give us a lift to you and you’d look after us. Only that man there—’

  ‘Meaning me,’ said Thomas. ‘Chief of Staff, if you please.’

  A wriggle. ‘Well, Diana dropped us off at your door and we came in, and the man with the wig squealed when he saw us and—’

  ‘Mr Balls,’ said Ellie.

  ‘He went and got your man with the beard—’

  ‘Chief of Staff, War Office,’ said Thomas.

  ‘And he took all our electronic games and mobiles off us and wouldn’t give them back till we’d had something to eat. We want them, now!’

  Ellie tried to disentangle this. ‘When did your mother drop you at Mrs Summers’ place?’

  Another shrug. ‘Early. This morning. I want my game. Now!’

  The Lieutenant began to kick his chair, rhythmically. Annoyingly.

  ‘Another round of ham sandwiches, anyone?’ said Rose.

  All four boys switched their eyes to her and nodded. Mia and Rose began to assemble more food, while Ellie spoke in a low voice to Thomas. ‘I saw Mrs Summers yesterday afternoon. She planned to go over to her sister’s later, but she was definitely expecting the boys back today. Am I imagining things, or is there something sinister about the locked bathroom door?’

  ‘As ever, you go straight to the heart of the matter. I’ve tried ringing the Mrs Summers in the phone book, but there’s no reply. I tried Diana, but she’s out of the office on some job or other, and so is Denis. Both their mobiles are switched off. I left messages.’

  ‘How on earth did you subdue them? I thought they were feral.’

  ‘I renamed them, which I thought might instil a sense of discipline, and removed their electronic gadgets. They’re to get them back after they’ve eaten in peace and quiet. They were famished, so that worked for a bit. What do we do next? Because they’re occupying the kitchen, Rose hasn’t been able to feed and water the multitudes outside, which makes the workmen unhappy and Mr Balls threaten to resign.’

  ‘Now that really would be a horror story. I’m so sorry, Thomas. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this.’

  ‘My treat. At least I can do something to earn my keep while all around me are busy preparing for the weekend.’

  ‘Shall we call the police to take them away?’

  ‘On what grounds? Antisocial behaviour? Yes, but they haven’t actually behaved badly here.’

  ‘Only because you stopped them. If let loose, these boys are capable of reducing a normal house to rubble in fifteen minutes. I’ve seen what they can do at Mrs Summers’ place.’

  ‘So, do we ring the police?’

  ‘Have we enough evidence to start panicking? I think maybe I ought to call a cab, take them back to Mrs Summers’ place and see if that bathroom door is still locked. Maybe she barricaded herself in there against them.’

  Thomas grunted. ‘I’ll take you. I’m not leaving you at the mercy of these young hooligans.’

  ‘Who’s a hooligan, then?’ chanted the General.

  His brothers took up the chant. ‘Hooligan, hooligan!’ They banged on the table and kicked chair legs.

  ‘Quiet!’ thundered Thomas, and they were quiet, but started giggling and shoving one another. They’d been fed and watered, and their energy levels were up to normal again.

  ‘Out of the kitchen, please, and stand in line!’ said Thomas, opening the back door. ‘General takes the lead, followed by other ranks in order. Quick, march! Left, right, left, right. That’s it. Now march on the spot. Left, right, left right. Rose, Mia; sorry about this. You’re both stars. Left, right, that’s it, lads. Halt! General, show me how to salute. Not bad, not bad. Now the rest of you, salute the General. Could be better. Now into the back of my car, all of you. Yes, all of you. No, not in the front! That’s where my wife sits. And belt up. All of you. We don’t move from here till I see you are all safely belted up.’

  The General objected. ‘There are only seat belts for three in the back.’

  ‘That’s true. Well, Lieutenant, you’re the lucky one who can sit in the front next my wife. And belt up. Everyone safely in? General, you’re to see there’s no fighting in the back, right?’

  Thomas drove smoothly along. The youngest boy cuddled up to Ellie under the passenger seat belt. He had long lashes and looked grubby. He also smelt. Oh dear. He yawned. There was perhaps four years difference between him and the General, and the gap in age was telling on his stamina. He drowsed against her, and she put her arm around him to hold him safely as they drew to a close outside Mrs Summers’ house.

  The gate was still off its hinges. One of the curtains in the front bay had come adrift. Ellie eased herself out from under the sleepy boy and stepped out of the car on to the pavement. The General, the Major and the Captain followed suit. The Lieutenant started awake and joined them, rubbing his eyes. Thomas locked the car up with his remote.

  ‘Boys, has anything changed since you got here this morning?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Well, we booted things about a bit.’

  ‘That was in the back, though.’

  Ellie shuddered at what they might have done to a garden which they’d already attacked once. ‘How did you get in, if she wasn’t here to let you in?’

  A shrug. ‘Front door was on the latch.’

  Thomas walked up the path and pushed the front door open. They all huddled into the hall behind him. A sticky hand stole into Ellie’s, and she held it tight.

  ‘Hello, there!’ said Thomas. ‘Mrs Summers?’

  They listened. Silence. A murmur of traffic not far away. An aeroplane took off from Heathrow Airport – would Ursula have met up with her father and his second family by now? A bluebottle hit a window. Water dripped somewhere.

  Thomas threw open doors. Ellie and the others stayed in the hall. Returning from the kitchen, he shook his head at them and went up the stairs. The Lieutenant shuddered and pressed close to Ellie. />
  ‘Mrs Summers? Are you there?’

  No reply. Ellie expected none. She knew, guessed, suspected . . . so did the boys, apparently. They turned watchful, apprehensive, excited eyes towards her. She smiled at them all. ‘Let Thomas investigate. He’s the biggest.’

  ‘Chief of Staff, War Office,’ said the Major, and the General nodded. Let Thomas do it.

  Thomas came back down the stairs, taking out his mobile. ‘Would you lot like to get back into the car for a moment? I’m not sure there’s anything much to worry about, but just in case, we’ll call the authorities. The first to hear a police car coming gets mentioned in despatches. Right?’ He used his remote to unlock the car from the front drive, and Ellie shepherded them back into it.

  ‘Can we have our games back?’ asked the General, in what was a polite voice for him.

  ‘Definitely,’ said Thomas, producing them from about his person. ‘Now, General; you’re in charge. Keep them quiet and occupied, right? Like a General should, looking after his men.’

  The General saluted. So did Thomas. A small miracle.

  Ellie stood by the car as Thomas rang for the police. He’d turned away so the boys shouldn’t hear, but she heard all right. ‘. . . Yes, that’s the address. She was supposed to be child-minding today but didn’t appear. The bathroom door’s locked. Yes, a proper old-fashioned lock, but there’s no key in the lock. You can hear water dripping inside . . . No, water isn’t flooding out of the bathroom, but the landing carpet’s wet . . . No, I tested it. It’s not blood. Just water . . .’

  He moved away, and she heard no more. She leaned back against the car and closed her eyes. The early evening sun was warm on her face. She ought to have brought her sunglasses. Another plane went by, far overhead. A big one. She wished she knew more about planes. No, she didn’t. Not really. She’d enough to remember without worrying about different makes of planes.

  This couldn’t have anything to do with Mia, anyway. Could it?

  No, it couldn’t. Ellie had been going to call on Dan Collins this afternoon, but hadn’t. How dare Diana dump her fiancé’s children on Ellie like that? Ah, but Diana thought she could get away with anything where her mother was concerned, didn’t she? She was right, because Thomas had coped. Wonderfully.

  The General got out of the car. The Major and the Captain were busy on their games consoles, and the Lieutenant was asleep.

  Ellie roused herself. ‘We must ring your mother, tell her what’s happening.’ She got out her own mobile. ‘Tell me the number.’ He told her, and she fumbled it.

  ‘Let me,’ he said, and did it for her.

  Ring, ring. ‘Is that . . .? Mrs Quicke here. Yes, Diana’s mother. We have your boys with us at the childminder’s, but there appears to be a slight problem—’

  A sharp, crystal-clear voice. ‘Nothing to do with me. They’re his responsibility in the holidays.’ She shut off the phone.

  Ellie did an eye-roll and redialled. ‘Mrs Quicke here. Don’t ring off! We’re waiting for the police at the moment, but—’

  ‘What have they done now?’ Alarm. ‘Surely the woman can take a joke.’

  ‘No joke. I think you’d better get over here.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m at the hairdressers. I won’t be finished for another hour.’

  Ellie counted to five. ‘Are you willing for my husband and myself to act as responsible adults when the children are questioned by the police?’

  ‘What? What have they done now? I’ll murder them.’

  ‘They’re witnesses, not suspects. Can you get Denis to come?’

  ‘What’s that? Witnesses? I don’t believe this! Listen, Denis won’t pick up the phone if he knows it’s me.’ Pause. ‘Let me know how you get on. I’ll come as soon as I’m through here, but you must realize that I can’t leave in the middle of a perm.’

  ‘I realize that.’ Ellie shut off the phone.

  The General sighed, long and hard. He wasn’t too clean, but that might be just a boyish talent for collecting dirt. His shorts were torn. And there were yellowish stripes on the backs of his legs.

  Ouch.

  Ellie’s mind made a couple of giant leaps. ‘Is it your father who hits you, or your mother?’

  Shoulders lifted to ears. Eyes downcast. Scuffed shoes scuffled.

  Ellie insisted. ‘Him?’

  A nod.

  Ellie remembered what the boys had done to the house the previous day. ‘Did your father tell you to wreck the place?’

  A hunched shoulder. An averted face. ‘No. She did. She said that this was one of Dad’s squeezes, and we could be a bit rough if we liked. So we did. No harm in it.’

  Humph! ‘What does your mum think about the wedding on Saturday?’

  A grin. ‘She says it’ll make him a biggy, no . . . a pygmy. Then she’ll be rid of him for good, and we’ll have the house to ourselves and a lot of money.’

  A ‘pygmy’. Now what was that in adult terms?

  He was shifting from foot to foot, pressing his legs together. Oh. She looked around. Where could he go? Would it be all right for him to use the facilities back in Mrs Summers’ house? Probably not, if it were a crime scene.

  A police car drew up. As if by osmosis, heads appeared in windows nearby, and a woman next door opened her door to see what was happening. A mistake. Ellie propelled the General to the neighbour’s open door, and asked if he might use the toilet. Neighbour nodded and indicated a way through to the back of the house. The boy shot inside.

  Ellie called out after him. ‘Wash hands and face afterwards.’

  The Major and the Captain presented themselves at her side. The neighbour shrugged, and said, ‘Why not? Straight through, last door on the right.’ And then, ‘What’s going on, then?’

  Where was the Lieutenant? Still asleep? No, he was out on the pavement, bleary-eyed. Was that a dark stain on his pants? Oh dear. Seeing his brothers disappear into a strange house, he followed them up the path. Thomas met the police officers and spoke to them. Ellie gesticulated to Thomas, miming that the boys were going in next door for a moment. He nodded and ushered the police into Mrs Summers’ house.

  Ellie smiled at the neighbour. ‘Sorry. The boys were bursting. I’ll clean round the toilet and washbasin after them.’

  The neighbour nearly cricked her neck, trying to see what was happening next door. Another police car drew up. Walkie-talkies at full pitch.

  The General presented himself in the hall, more or less clean and heaving a sigh of relief. The Major and the Captain followed, ditto. The Lieutenant was slower.

  ‘He does it in his pants sometimes,’ said the General.

  Ellie met the eyes of the helpful neighbour and iterated, ‘I’ll clean up after them. Have you seen Mrs Summers today?’

  ‘Is there something wrong? No, I haven’t. I’ve seen these boys around before, haven’t I?’ Neighbour folded her lips, and Ellie could guess what had not been said.

  ‘Rampaging, were they?’

  The General said, ‘It was a battle. It was cool.’

  ‘I don’t think Mrs Summers thought it was cool.’

  He shrugged, and the Major and the Captain shrugged, too. ‘Can we go and see her now? Is she all bluggy?’

  ‘No, and no. We don’t know that anything’s happened to her, anyway.’

  The Major picked his nose. ‘She might of gone to sleep last night in the bath and left the tap dripping.’

  Ellie was intrigued. Perhaps the Major was the one in the outfit with brains?

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘The milk was on the doorstep this morning. She hadn’t taken it in.’

  The General nodded. ‘We drank it for our lunch. And ate the rest of the bread and jam.’

  ‘And the cornflakes,’ said the Captain.

  ‘But there weren’t any biscuits left in the tin,’ said the Major.

  All three sighed. ‘That was a long time ago.’ They switched their eyes to the neighbour, who reacted exactly the way they i
ntended.

  ‘Oh, you poor things! No lunch? Now, what can I find for you to eat? A fry-up would be quickest, with a couple of rounds of toast each.’

  The Major kicked the Captain, who had opened his mouth to ask for something else. ‘We’d love that!’ said the Major. ‘You are so kind.’

  Ellie perceived that the boys knew exactly which buttons to press when it came to impressionable middle-aged women. She herself was not so impressionable. Or was she? ‘The Lieutenant?’ she asked.

  ‘Probably crying because he’s done it in his pants,’ said the General, and followed their hostess down the hall into a well-appointed kitchen.

  Ellie found the youngest boy in the toilet, which was now awash with splashed water, dirty towels, and a lot of toilet paper strewn around the place. The Lieutenant was sitting on the loo, dirty pants around his ankles. Crying.

  Ellie washed out his pants, cleaned him up, dried the pants roughly on the cleanest of the remaining towels, scrubbed him down as much as she could without stripping him entirely, put his pants back on and sent him out to join his brothers.

  She popped her head round the kitchen door. ‘Have you some rubber gloves I could use, and something to clean the toilet?’

  ‘Bless you, yes. Cupboard under the stairs.’ The woman was ladling out piles of scrambled egg on to plates awash with sausages, bacon and baked beans. ‘Boys will be boys, won’t they? I had four myself, and they’ve got five between them and two more expected in the autumn, and I know they keep you on the go. Now, tea all round?’

  ‘Any coca cola?’ enquired the Captain.

  Ellie was astonished and pleased to see how well the boys could behave when they put their minds to it.

  She also knew there was going to be an account to be settled when they’d finished. She returned to cleaning up the toilet. Through the party wall she could hear thuds and the occasional shout. And more walkie-talkies.

  When she’d finished cleaning, their hostess pressed a most welcome mug of tea into her hands. ‘Two sugars? You look as if you need it. Sit down. I sent the boys to play in the garden.’

  Ellie shuddered at the thought of what destruction they might wreak there, but their hostess was ahead of her. ‘I told the eldest he was responsible for their behaviour, and he said he’d see that they didn’t do any damage. I’ve kept an eye on them and they’re playing five-a-side or whatever. They’ll do.’