Murder by Mistake

by Veronica Heley

  Rose’s belief that Miss Quicke was still hovering somewhere around the house could be unnerving, but normally Ellie could take it in her stride. Today, however, it caught her on the raw, and she would have made a sharp retort but that Thomas said, ‘Don’t tell me. She thinks the marquee an abomination and can’t abide all the comings and goings.’

  ‘Oh, no. Not at all. She’s finding all this most stimulating, though she thinks the marquee ought to have been used for Ursula’s wedding as well. No, no. It’s the finances she’s worried about. Have you taken out some insurance, she says? And if not, she would advise you to do so.’

  Thomas took this seriously. ‘What does she think will happen?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Everything from an Act of God to someone breaking the glass in the breakfront cabinet in the sitting room, I should think.’

  ‘An Act of God?’ Ellie repeated. ‘Did she actually say that?’

  Rose looked bemused. ‘How should I know? Seconds, everyone?’

  When the kitchen had been cleared and Mia had settled down to watch television with Rose, Ellie wandered around the ground floor, now and then checking the drive outside to see if Midge had returned. Thomas watched one television programme, then came to find Ellie, who was in the middle of the marquee, staring into the distance.

  He put his arm around her. ‘Cheer up. Midge will come back in his own good time.’

  ‘Of course he will. I think I’ll just ring Mr Balls to make sure he did arrange some insurance for the weekend.’

  ‘My love, are you sure this is not all too much for you?’

  ‘Do you mean, why do I take any notice of Rose’s conversations with a ghost? It’s not that, exactly. It’s everything; the cost of Diana’s wedding, and all the horrible things that have been happening, and those boys this afternoon. I have a nasty feeling that there’s something bad waiting to move in on me – on us. I know it’s not rational . . . Well, it is rational to dread Denis coming into the family, I suppose. Those boys of his are deathly frightened of him, and I don’t blame them. Then Diana is such a fool; oh, not in many ways, but she does take short cuts at work when she shouldn’t, and they never work out.’

  ‘You think Denis is a short cut?’

  ‘I don’t know what I think about him, except that if she’s difficult to deal with, he’ll be far worse. Tricky. Cruel. I’m sure he murdered Mrs Summers, though they may never prove it.’ She shuddered.

  ‘Relax. Leave it to the police. And if he does marry her, we’ll manage, somehow. Come and sit down. You’re worn out.’ He led her back to the sitting room and replaced her chair facing the television. His own La-Z-Boy had vanished, so he stretched himself out on the big settee and half closed his eyes. He fingered the remote, but didn’t switch the television on again – yet.

  Ellie rang Mr Balls. ‘I’m so sorry to phone you so late, but did you remember to take out some insurance for the weekend?’

  Mr Balls was slightly reproachful that she should have had to ask. He quoted a reputable insurance firm and said he thought he’d covered all eventualities, just in case. The cost would appear on his invoice.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. And switched off.

  Thomas yawned and relaxed. He checked the television listings in the newspaper. All he needed to complete the picture of a man peacefully taking his ease after a hard day’s labour was Midge sitting on his stomach. Oh, Midge; where are you?

  Ellie couldn’t relax. ‘Thomas, may I tell you what the boys told me today? The police seemed to have written off Marge’s evidence because she’d had a glass of sherry, but I believed every word she said. As for the boys . . . Well, judge for yourself.’

  She repeated everything she remembered, finishing with, ‘. . . And when I asked the General what his mother thought of the wedding on Saturday, he said she was pleased about it because it would make his father – a word he clearly hadn’t understood – a “pygmy” or a “biggy”.’

  Silence. But it was a different sort of silence. Not restful. Full of uneasy suspicions.

  She thought about what she’d just said. ‘Pygmy’ and ‘Biggy’. If you put them both together they made another, very different, word.

  Thomas evidently thought so, too. He sat upright, looked at his watch, frowned. Got out his mobile phone, shook his head and put it away again.

  Ellie said, trying the word out, ‘Bigamy? I asked Diana if Denis had got rid of his wife, and she said yes. But she can be very stupid about people, can’t she? She thinks Denis is the answer to all her dreams. She’d believe anything he said, if it meant she could marry him; though why she should want to . . . All right, I know. Sex. But she wouldn’t knowingly enter into a bigamous marriage, would she?’

  ‘What time are they due at the registry office on Saturday?’

  ‘Two o’clock.’ A long silence while Thomas rubbed at his beard and considered various unpleasant alternatives.

  ‘You could check at the registry office tomorrow?’ Ellie said.

  ‘Tell me again what Diana said about their making their vows before their guests. Didn’t you say something about her wanting me to don a surplice and officiate?’

  ‘Yes. She did, and I said you wouldn’t do it. I have no idea whether she believed me or not. She always thinks that if she pushes hard enough, people will do what she wants.’

  ‘We’re building a scenario on the word of a ten-year-old who clearly didn’t understand what he was told.’

  Ellie was restless. ‘I know, I know. You may say I should give him the benefit of the doubt, that I can’t go round suspecting people of crimes they haven’t even thought of, and I agree. I also know that every fibre of me detests that man and has done from the moment I first met him. Yes, I am prejudiced against him. I believe he murdered Mrs Summers, and I believe he abuses his children. Now he wants to marry Diana and everything inside me is screaming, “No!”.’

  ‘Suppose you’re right. Why go through with a mock marriage since they’re already living together?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he really loves her.’

  The words ‘and pigs might fly’ hung in the air, but were not uttered.

  Ellie twisted her hands together. ‘He may be feeling insecure about her love for him, and so wants her to make a public commitment.’

  Double ‘pigs might fly’. Make it ‘elephants’.

  ‘Yes, but Thomas, if I’m right, then his wife – his present wife – knows something is phoney about his intended marriage to Diana. She must do, or she wouldn’t be saying its going to be to her advantage and that it will help her to get rid of him for good.’

  ‘Have you had a word with her?’

  ‘Do you think I should? Oh dear, I don’t even know her first name. But if she’s as terrified of him as the boys are, then I can’t blame her for hoping he’s going to come to a sticky end.’

  ‘A bigamist would probably get a custodial sentence. If she divorced him after that she could keep the house, at least till the youngest is eighteen. But does he have enough of an income to give her alimony and to pay for the boys’ schooling? Didn’t you say he’s put them into private schools? Aren’t estate agents supposed to be doing badly in the recession?’

  ‘I know. I can’t think what he’s hoping to gain by this marriage.’

  ‘If this did all go wrong, what do you think Diana will do?’

  Ellie shuddered. ‘That’s one of her virtues; loyalty. You may think it’s rather selfish of me, but I don’t fancy having my daughter tie herself to a man who’s then put in jail for bigamy. She might very well decide to stand by him and waste the best years of her life keeping the agency going while waiting for him to be released.’

  ‘If you’re right, she wouldn’t be tying herself to him. A bigamous marriage is no marriage in the eyes of the Law. Ah, we’re building bricks without straw. You may have misheard the boy. Denis’s papers may all be in order and the marriage will be valid.’

  Ellie threw up her hands, frustrated.

&nb
sp; ‘All right,’ said Thomas, being reasonable. ‘Let’s suppose he hasn’t got his divorce through. So long as he doesn’t go through with the appointment at the registry office, but simply has a commitment service and party here afterwards, then he’s in the clear. No bigamy. Just a formalizing of an existing secular arrangement with his partner. Suppose you ring Diana, check if she’s still expecting to meet him at the registry office on Saturday. If he’s made some excuse and cancelled it, then we’ll be that much nearer to understanding what’s going on.’

  Ellie reached for her mobile phone, and got through to Diana. Background music. Television? Was Denis there?

  ‘Diana, it’s me. Mr Balls and his team have worked wonders. He’s excellent, isn’t he? Just a thought; are Thomas and I invited to the registry office on Saturday, because the timing’s a bit tight . . .? No? You only need two witnesses and they’re coming from the office? Right. Tell me; do you have to make sworn declarations about being divorced nowadays? You from Stewart, I mean . . . You did? And Denis, too? . . . No, no problem; just that you dumped his boys on us today and it was tricky, not knowing what to say to them about the wedding. Are they invited? . . . They’re not? . . . No, quite understood. What’s his wife’s name, by the way? She came to collect them, but I didn’t have a chance to . . . Valerie? Oh. Right. Yes, she’d been at the hairdressers . . .Yes, yes. Fine. Yes, of course. What’s that? You want a cheque for the dressmaker? Oh. Yes, I suppose so. Let me have the bill in the morning. By the way, you’re not intending to wear that dress to the registry office, are you?’

  She switched off. ‘Their date at the registry office is still on. Diana’s bought a special outfit for the civil ceremony, but paid for that herself, alleluia! They both made a declaration that they’re free to marry again. He must have forged his divorce papers.’

  ‘Now we don’t know that for certain. It’s possible he got them through in time. After all, he’s been living with Diana for . . . what? Six months now? More?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ellie stared into the distance.

  ‘It’s probably all right.’ He didn’t sound convinced, but he reached for the remote and switched on the television.

  Ellie couldn’t sit still to watch with him. She wandered out into the shadowy hall and from there into the conservatory. Mia was there, watering the plants that had been delivered that day.

  ‘Thank you. I’d forgotten all about watering them in. They look good,’ said Ellie, thinking how much the girl had come on these last few days.

  Mia touched the petals of a luscious gardenia and smiled. She was wearing a dusky pink dress which suited her. It wasn’t one that Ellie had bought for her; presumably it had come from Ursula. ‘Rose suggested I do it. She’s good with plants, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ellie, thinking about a host of other things, none of them pleasant.

  Mia did a twirl and stepped out into the marquee, holding up her arms, almost floating along. She sang, ‘“See me dance the polka” . . . Not that I ever did, of course. Dance the polka, I mean. Before supper I was worrying about the grass getting trodden down under the dance floor, but a good watering afterwards should help it return to normal.’

  Ellie took a chair from a nearby stack and set it down to sit on. It was very quiet. Maybe she could think more clearly here.

  Mia drifted around the marquee, listening to music from her MP3 player. Finally, she got herself a chair from the stack and sat down beside Ellie. ‘You look worried.’

  ‘I was thinking that you’ve filled out just these last few days. Good food and a rest have worked wonders.’

  ‘And you, and everyone. Do you know, I’ve even begun to think about the future for the first time since everything went wrong. Such plans I have in my head!’ She laughed. ‘All stupid, of course. But it’s true, I do feel so much better.’

  ‘Who do you think it is who’s trying to hurt you now?’

  A shrug. ‘My mother, I suppose. Although . . .’

  ‘Not quite her style?’

  ‘No. I really can’t think . . . Someone who believes it might help their old friends . . .? Except that I don’t think I know anyone who’s got that sort of mind.’

  ‘Ursula suggested someone who might know. She called him “Silly Billy”.’

  ‘Oh, him.’ An indulgent smile. ‘Poor Billy. Not quite all there, you know. Brilliant at maths, I believe; probably autistic. Socially he was always on the outside, you know? Some people made fun of him. He couldn’t help it. He was brought up by his mother, single parent, kept to herself, didn’t talk to neighbours. He grew up the same way. Then his mother died, and he sort of lost his way in life.’ A quick frown. ‘I suppose he might have noticed something, but getting him to talk about it might be another matter.’

  ‘He was always hanging around your group?’

  ‘Mm. He wasn’t invited to the parties, of course, but he’d ask to walk me to the bus stop or the library, and he’d sit beside me if I happened to be on my own. I was sorry for him.’

  ‘It might be worth asking him if he’s still around. Do you know where he lives?’

  ‘My brain’s gone all stupid. What was his surname? Bright? I think he was able to keep his mother’s flat on after she died, but where was it? Acton way? I could ask Ursula, I suppose. Oh, I know who’d be able to tell you – Ursula’s old boyfriend; Dan Collins. Is he coming to her wedding?’

  Ellie shook her head. This was the second time Dan’s name had come up. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have a word with him in the morning. She yawned. Yes, it had been a long day. The sun had gone down and shadows were creeping around the marquee. Tomorrow someone was going to hang strings of fairy lights around the walls. Pretty.

  Mia called out a goodnight and climbed the stairs to sleep in the room above Rose’s bed-sitter. Thomas emerged from the living room, turning off lights, yawning. Ellie went to the front door and called Midge’s name. No reply. No furry touch on her ankles.

  She hoped the cat would return some time that night. Most of the windows overlooking the garden were kept open at the top in this hot weather, and he could get in as and when he pleased.

  Tomorrow would be another busy day.

  Thursday night

  That had been a narrow escape. The big man with the beard had very nearly caught him. Not that he’d been doing any harm, watching the comings and goings from behind the laurel bush. Such a busy time. He’d noted down the licence numbers of all the vehicles that had come to the house. Two of the vans had unusual numbers, that he’d have found interesting on any other day.

  He’d asked one of the electricians if he’d take the packet in for him. ‘Sure,’ the man said, without even looking at him. Probably thought he was the postman.

  Then he’d waited. And waited. How soon would she taste it and die?

  The hours wore on, and still there was no sign of an ambulance being called.

  Perhaps she’d leave the sweet until after she’d eaten supper? He wasn’t sure he could wait that long. He needed three good meals a day and though he’d brought sandwiches and a flask for his lunch, he really needed a good cooked meal at night. That was what his mother had always taught him, and he knew it was the right thing to do.

  Then that fiend with the beard had jumped on him, and he’d fled. Out into the road, heart thudding. Round the next corner and away. Out of breath, leaning against the gatepost of a house in the next road.

  He couldn’t afford to be caught. He’d go back home and eat, and then . . . and then perhaps he’d see if they’d left a window open somewhere. He wouldn’t feel right till he knew she was dead.

  FOURTEEN

  Friday morning

  Still no Midge. Ellie had thought she’d heard him scramble up on to the window ledge sometime in the dark hours, but he didn’t seem to be anywhere around today. As she took in the newspapers – was the local paper there, as well? It was – Ellie told herself that she had much more important things to think about than a missing cat, but the worr
y didn’t go away. Just went underground.

  Rose came in through the back door as Ellie went into the kitchen. Rose was frowning. ‘I thought I heard someone scrambling over the fence late last night. I hoped it might be Midge, but he’s nowhere to be seen.’

  ‘He’ll come back when he’s good and ready,’ said Ellie, hoping it was true.

  Rose shook her head. ‘I think someone was trying to get into the house at the back, because there’s footprints under all the downstairs windows this side. They couldn’t get far because of the tent being in the way.’

  ‘Any damage?’ said Thomas, yawning as he joined them. ‘It was probably some down-and-out looking for a place to sleep.’

  Rose exchanged glances with Ellie. Neither of them was happy about this solution, but neither could think of a better one. Rose prepared breakfast while Ellie worked out what food they might need to buy for the weekend; fish for tonight, perhaps? Something light to eat after the wedding rehearsal. A joint of meat for tomorrow evening after the weddings, or perhaps a chicken? They’d been invited to partake of Ursula’s buffet, but not to sit down with Diana’s friends in the evening, so they’d need something.

  Mia came in, puzzling over the Party Planner’s file. ‘There’s an awful lot to do still.’

  Rose poured tea, looking over Mia’s shoulder at the paperwork. ‘What does the decorator do, anyway?’

  Mia flicked through sheets. ‘The decorator hangs drapes around the inside of the marquee and strings lights around. She brings covers for the chairs, which will be all in gold to match the ribbons that she twines round the poles that hold up the tent.’

  She looked up. ‘It says here that there will be favours provided by the wedding party for each guest, wrapped in organza and tied with gold ribbon to match the decorations. Is anyone doing anything like that for Ursula?’

  Ellie took the file and looked for herself. ‘I don’t think so. Ursula’s doing it on a shoestring. It’s not mentioned here. I wonder—’