Silence.
She said, ‘I can’t see Denis driving a white van at me.’
‘You mustn’t jump to—’
‘I know, I know. There is absolutely no reason to suppose that he should want to kill me, but I can’t think of anyone else who—’
‘Why should he want to kill you?’
‘I don’t know.’ She slid down the pillows. ‘I’m being unreasonable, aren’t I?’
He turned out the bedside lights. ‘I’m going to stick to you like glue tomorrow. Not a hair of your head shall be harmed.’
‘Nonsense.’ She began to giggle. ‘You’ve got to officiate most splendidly at the wedding and do a hundred other things out of my sight.’
‘I’ll just have to catch up on my praying, then. You are one very special person, Ellie Quicke. You do an immense amount of good in the world without ever asking for thanks or even acknowledgment, and I’m asking God to keep His eye on you.’
He put his arm around her, and soon she could tell by the rhythm of his breathing that he’d fallen asleep. She lay awake, eyes wide, wondering how a white-van man had known where and when to find her on at least two occasions.
Saturday morning
Ellie hadn’t thought she would sleep at all, but in the event she managed a good six hours’ of unconsciousness and woke to find a pearly sky brightening to gold. It was going to be another hot, airless day. Thomas’s side of the bed was empty. He’d be up and in his quiet room already.
She threw back the curtains and looked out over the marquee to what she could still see of the garden below, which wasn’t much. She spotted Mia, hanging up fat balls for the birds. Mia looked like a child, in sandals and a cotton nightie. Mia was smiling.
Well, at least the threats to Mia should stop now. Thank the Lord.
Ellie knew she ought to be thanking the Lord for a lot of other things, too, but there were so many problems buzzing around in her mind that she had to take a deep breath, and tell herself: Stop! Concentrate! Do one thing at a time!
Is someone really trying to kill me?
No reply.
‘Well, dear Lord. You know how I’m fixed today, all the things I’m worrying about. Not just about the silly little tragedies that will no doubt occur such as the caterers forgetting to bring a knife to cut Diana’s wedding cake, but the big things such as . . . such as please will You bless Ursula and Sam in their marriage? Now that is important.
Breakfast was important, too. She got herself dressed and went along the corridor to see if Diana wanted any on this her second wedding day. Diana’s door was firmly shut but Ellie eased it open long enough to see that her daughter was asleep in the spare-room bed.
Marge was stirring in little Frank’s room and said she never ate breakfast normally, but would make an exception today.
Down in the hall, Ellie found the keys which Diana had borrowed on the hall table. Good.
Thomas and Rose made a substantial breakfast for them all: fresh orange juice, scrambled eggs and bacon, toast, tea and coffee. Mia jumped up and down from the table to collect things, eyes bright, full of excitement. Rose was quieter, smiling fondly at the transformation in the girl.
Thomas advised them to eat something to still the wedding nerves, and all but Marge – bleary-eyed – agreed with him. Marge moaned, driving everyone mad. Finally Thomas said he’d drop her at the police station so she could bail her son out. With luck. She brightened up at that and went off with him happily enough.
Diana didn’t appear.
Ellie rather hoped Diana wouldn’t be too demanding that day, but . . . Suppose it had been Denis who’d tried to run Ellie down? No, no. In the cold light of day, she really couldn’t see him driving a white van. Or stealing a Volvo.
The Party Planner arrived, followed closely by the first of the workmen. The front door was propped open, and people began to traipse through the hall and back again. There was an argument between the cleaners, who wanted to polish the floor, and the florist, who wanted to finish the decorations. One lot of tablecloths had still not arrived. The man who was to run the disco rang to say he was going to be late.
Mia flitted about, colour in her cheeks and light in her eyes. ‘Isn’t this exciting?’
Yes, it was, in a way.
The phone rang. It was Ellie’s grandson, little Frank. ‘Do I really have to dress up and be a ring-bearer?’
‘I’m afraid you do, my poppet. Think about the lovely holiday you’re all going to have straight afterwards.’
A stifled sob. Oh dear.
Stewart came on the line. ‘Never again, Ellie.’
‘Agreed. If I don’t see you before you take off, have a wonderful time away.’
‘Yes. That Summers woman. Her death was on the local news this morning. Was it a random thing, or is there a connection?’
‘No proof yet. Forget about it. Have a good holiday.’
There were raised voices in the hall. The first set of caterers were bound to clash with Diana’s lot. Oh well. That was for Mr Balls to sort out.
Normally the bridesmaids would foregather at the bride’s home to help her to get ready, but Mrs Belton – true to herself in this as in all other matters – had decreed that she would not have extra people cluttering up her flat that morning, that she herself would deliver her daughter to the church, and that the bridesmaids should meet the bride there.
Possibly this was to avoid her ex-husband setting foot in her flat? Seeing that there was no help for it, Ursula had meekly agreed, while assuring Mia that they would make up for it with lots of visits as soon as the honeymoon was over.
While Rose cleared away the breakfast table and checked that there were enough cold meats to make sandwiches for lunch – always providing anyone was hungry enough – Ellie went upstairs to tidy up their bedroom and bathroom and then to see if Diana was awake. Which she was.
‘Would you like some breakfast?’
Diana laid down the mobile phone she’d been using. ‘I brought a flask of tea with me so I won’t need anything till later. Bring me some freshly roasted coffee at noon. Denis says there’s been a hitch and we can’t have the registry office wedding this afternoon.’
Ellie carefully said nothing at all, but waited for Diana’s reaction.
A shrug. ‘Oh, well, we’ll go ahead with everything here. All our friends have been told to expect an exchange of vows and a good party, and that’s what they’re going to get.’
Ellie nodded. She wondered what friends the couple had. People like themselves, out for what they could get? Friends in the trade?
Diana yawned. ‘After all, I can always change my name to his by deed poll.’
Ellie nodded again. She went to draw back the curtains, till Diana winced and said to leave them. Ellie said, ‘We’ll be off to church soon for Ursula’s wedding. How will you amuse yourself till it’s time for your “do” this afternoon?’
Diana threw herself back on the bed. ‘Is it too much to hope that I can be left in peace for a few hours? I’ve a cracking headache.’
‘I’ll bring you some aspirin.’
‘I’ve got some. Just tell everyone to be quiet downstairs, will you?’
Ellie thought, Oh yes? I don’t think so. But said nothing, and left.
The chaos downstairs gradually sorted itself out. The caterers arrived and polished their cutlery and glasses till the designer brought the tablecloths. The florist helped the designer to dress the chairs, since she’d finished her own work and everything else was behindhand. The cleaners buffed the hall floor to a mirror finish and glared at anyone who dared to cross it after that. The electricians said they’d finally got the mike working, while Rose and Mia provided cuppas and cleaned up after everyone else.
The caterers were still laying tables when Ellie coaxed Mia and Rose to leave the kitchen in order to get dressed.
Thomas returned from taking Marge to the police station – from which she’d been able to retrieve her son – and checked over what he
’d got to take with him to the church. ‘You’ve ordered a cab to take you there?’
‘No, but I will,’ said Ellie, suddenly understanding how it might have been possible for white-van man to know where and when she was going to be. ‘Thomas, suppose—’
A quick kiss, an anxious look, an extra-tight hug. ‘I must be off. Don’t be late. You’re responsible for getting Mia there on time, remember.’
Ellie nodded, thinking rapidly. Once he’d gone, she rang the police station and asked if DI Willis happened to be back from leave yet. She wasn’t. ‘DC Milburn, then?’
‘Not available.’
‘“Ears”?’
‘WHO?’
‘Oh. Sorry. Will you give him a message for me? I think the missing link is the cab company. When I ring for a cab, they know where I’m going and roughly how long I’ll be. I think that someone who books the cars in and out may be giving my movements to the man who drives the white van. Would you look into it, please?’
Heavy breathing at the other end. Her message was repeated without comment. She shut up her phone and went to change into her wedding outfit, remembering that the master bedroom was going to be used later that day as a changing room, so she’d better not leave it or the en suite untidy.
Before she’d finished, Mia came dancing into the room, carrying her bouquet of lavender dianthus and white roses, livened with puffs of gold ribbon. ‘Aren’t I looking pretty?’
‘You are indeed!’ Ellie snatched up her hat and crammed it on. ‘How long have we got, and where are my shoes?’
Mia found them for her. ‘This is all due to you, all this. I do love you, you know.’
Ellie laughed. ‘You love everyone today.’
‘That’s true. I am so fortunate.’ She sobered. ‘When I think back . . . but I’m not going to think back any more, or at least, not intentionally.’ Her smile lit up the room. ‘I’m going to be positive and helpful and loving and kind, and not get annoyed by Mrs Belton, and pray that Ursula has the loveliest possible wedding today because she deserves it.’
‘She does, indeed.’
Someone rapped on the bedroom door, which was ajar. Diana, in a negligee, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. Diana looked drawn and irritable. ‘Do you think you could be a little quieter, please?’ She returned to the spare room.
Ellie and Mia giggled to one another, like chidden children. Ellie snatched up her gloves and handbag, and they went downstairs to find Rose waiting for them in the hall. Rose was togged up in a bright pink costume with a pink rose – a large, home-made boutonnière – in her buttonhole.
‘I love you too, Rose!’ said Mia, embracing her friend.
Rose laughed. ‘Mind my hat, you silly thing! The cab’s waiting for us.’
Ellie took one last look around. The caterers were laying tables. Mr Balls and his slaves were ticking boxes on lists.
Ellie warned Mr Balls, ‘You have one hour max.’ She stepped into the cab, wondering what awaited her at the end of the journey. Another attempt on her life, or a simple church service?
SATURDAY MORNING. . .
He cursed his luck. He couldn’t understand how she’d escaped death so many times. A cat had nine lives, but she . . . she had to die! There was no other way.
He’d tried to sleep, but couldn’t. Craig had rung him almost every hour, wanting the rest of his money. He’d trusted Craig, given him a solid down payment, and the stupid git had let him down in spades. Craig had ditched the van as soon as he’d got it back; maybe the police wouldn’t find it straight away, but maybe they would. Now Craig had no wheels, only half the money he’d been promised, and the job still hadn’t been done.
As the hours wore on, Denis changed his mind. Craig was ceasing to be a tool and becoming a threat. The police were going to catch up with Craig sooner or later, and do him for dangerous driving at the very least. With any luck, they’d also work out he’d been a frequent visit to the Summers woman, which was how Denis had come across him in the first place.
So – a brilliant idea! He’d get Craig to meet him at the wedding reception in one of the unused downstairs rooms. If Ellie wouldn’t come out of the house, he could go in. He’d kill her and blame it on Craig. He’d have to kill Craig, too, of course. Two birds with one stone. He wouldn’t use a stone. A hammer, perhaps? A mallet? He had one in the car. A tyre lever, maybe. No, a knife. A long, sharp knife. Quick in and out and no blood spatter to betray him.
He must tell Craig to meet him at the house, tell anyone who asked that he had an urgent message for Denis, and then . . . somehow or other Denis would get Ellie to go with him to meet Craig and with a couple of thrusts to the heart he’d do away with the pair of them.
Wonderful! Surely the police must by now suspect that it was Craig who’d driven the van which had tried to run Ellie down, so they would assume he’d finally got to her. Denis would be the hero of the hour. He’d say he’d seen Craig attack his future mother-in-law . . . He’d tried to intervene but been too late . . . There’d followed a struggle for the knife, and in that struggle, Craig had been killed. By mistake, of course. Perfect. The police would go for it. Diana would go for it, and she’d fall into his arms in gratitude – and lust. Never forget lust when dealing with Diana.
Soon he’d be able to persuade Valerie to divorce him. He’d only have to threaten to hit the boys again, and she’d be putty in his hands. As always.
So, on with the wedding. It was entirely necessary that he bind Diana to him with hoops of steel. He’d have liked someone a trifle younger, but there was no doubting her abilities in bed. That made up for a lot. That and the money she was going to inherit.
He made a phone call to Craig, shaved with care, and put on his wedding finery. There was everything to play for, today.
NINETEEN
The cab driver dropped them outside the church, smiling to see the excited crowd arriving there. ‘You want I wait for you today?’ he said.
It would be convenient if he did, but . . . ‘No, thanks,’ said Ellie, ‘not today.’
Mia jumped out to run to Ursula’s little American sister, spotlessly clean in a new white frock, braces on her teeth glinting in the sunshine. ‘Well, just look at you!’
The roly-poly usher handed Ellie a boutonnière of a white rose, which she pinned to her lapel.
She tried to remember exactly what instructions she’d given to the cab firm when she took Mia to the solicitor’s at the beginning of the week. She’d told him she didn’t need a cab for the return journey, as they were planning to have lunch out in the Broadway. Had the Volvo been part of the plot to kill her, too?
Someone had a masterful touch on the organ inside the church. She looked around for a white van. Or another Volvo. None in sight. Anyway, there were too many people hanging around for a car to target one particular woman among the throng at the church gates.
But he knows where to find me, all the time!
Mia was laughing, happy, carefree for once. Rose caught Ellie’s arm. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day for it?’
Yes, it was. An usher held out an Order of Service to Ellie, and she took it. She and Rose would sit at the back since they planned to rush back home while photographs were being taken of the wedding party after the ceremony. Pray heaven the caterers would be ready in time.
The Volvo might have been a joyriding accident. Yes, it might.
The white vans . . . no. Was it the same van which had tried to run her down outside the Priors’ place, as the one last night outside the church? Difficult to say. Neither had any logos on their sides. The most she could say was that they were the same size, plain, white, clean. Newly rented?
The church was filling up with happy people. There were a respectable number of people on Sam’s side of the church, and yes, he was already there, chatting over his shoulder, smiling. His best man at his side.
They were both wearing tailcoats. Goodness gracious! How often did that happen nowadays? Rented? Ah, of course. It showed a nice f
eeling that they’d bothered. He would never look handsome, but he looked distinguished, would improve with age . . . Yes, that must be his brother acting as best man, and his father was in the row behind him, and also, possibly, an uncle; they all looked very much alike. Medical men? Foreign office? Highly placed civil servants? She’d known, once. Not that it mattered.
What about their womenfolk? All large, capable-looking women, with four – no, five – children in tow. Yes, Ursula would feel at home in that family.
He knows where to find me . . .
The music changed. Was Ursula going to be late? It wouldn’t be like her.
Thomas walked down the aisle in his robes, smiling, chatting to this person and that. Was there to be a choir? No?
Rose nudged Ellie. ‘Mrs Belton’s hat!’
Mrs Belton’s hat was indeed a wonder to behold. Ellie stifled a laugh. An unfortunate choice, the wrong shape and colour. Cerise pink was not easy to wear even if you had a wonderful complexion or good make-up, and the poor woman had neither. No one would giggle to her face, would they?
Thomas greeted the bride’s mother and led her to the front row, where she sat in solitary state. Ursula’s stepmother and the toddler sidled in behind her.
Thomas reached Ellie’s row and leaned in to say, ‘Remember?’ They both smiled, as it had been in this very church that they’d exchanged their own vows, some months ago.
Ellie opened her Order of Service – well designed, nicely printed, undoubtedly something Ursula had organized – and resolved to put white vans and Volvos out of her mind.
There was a stir in the porch, and the organist broke into a well-known wedding march. Ellie felt tears stand out in her eyes, as Ursula – big-boned, positive, strong-minded, clear-thinking, warm-hearted and radiantly beautiful – made her way down the aisle on her father’s arm, with her little sister holding Mia’s hand and following close behind.
Ursula was wearing a white brocade coat dress, screamingly simple, with long sleeves and the merest hint of a train. No exposed shoulders for her. Her hair hung, honey-blonde, down over her shoulders, topped by a crown of tiny white flowers – orchids? – from which fell a short gauzy veil. Her bouquet was all white. She was all white, except for the colour in her cheeks and lips, which looked natural and probably was. Her eyes were brilliant, fixed on the man who was waiting for her at the altar.
Murder by Mistake Page 23
