Murder by Mistake

by Veronica Heley

  The little girl tripped and nearly fell half way down the aisle, and everyone went ‘Oh!’

  Ursula and Mia were equal to the occasion. They picked the child up and, seeing that she was ready to cry, her father hoisted her up on to his free arm.

  Laughing, throwing back the veil which had fallen over her face, Ursula continued down the aisle to where Sam was waiting for her. Light glinted on tears on Mia’s cheeks, but she smiled as she took Ursula’s bouquet from her and stood aside for Mr Belton to give his daughter away.

  Rose sniffed. Ellie reached for her hankie.

  Thomas’s voice filled the church with the age-old words of welcome.

  As the bride and groom withdrew to sign the register, Ellie whispered to Rose, ‘Let’s get out of here, shall we?’

  They left the church and stood outside in the sun.

  ‘That was beautiful,’ sobbed Rose. ‘So . . . so family! Ursula didn’t think of herself at all and how it might look. Did you see the look on her man’s face as he took her hand at the altar steps?’

  A limousine was at the kerb, waiting to take the bride and groom on to the reception. A second hired car waited behind it to transport her relatives and the bridesmaids. From the cab firm Ellie used?

  He always knows where to find me.

  Ellie considered walking back home. Yes, but would Rose make it? She didn’t walk much anywhere nowadays. Some late arrivals drew up in a black taxi, exclaiming that their train had been late. They hurried into the church, so Ellie and Rose took the taxi on home.

  No minicab drivers hovered. No white vans, either.

  Is he waiting for me back at the house? WHAT DOES HE WANT?

  She went over it again in her mind. Forget the Volvo. Perhaps that really had been an accident. On two other occasions a white van had tried to run her down. Why?

  She paid off the taxi outside her house, and hurried indoors. People were criss-crossing the hall, all was bustle, the kitchen had been taken over by the caterers, Mr Balls and his minions were orchestrating the event. Neither Ellie nor Rose was needed.

  Rose took off her hat and fluffed up her hair. ‘I could do with a cuppa before the hordes descend. How about you? We could have it in my sitting room, where it’s nice and quiet.’

  ‘A good idea. I’ll just see how Diana’s getting on first. Perhaps she’d like her mother to dress her for this wedding, since she has no bridesmaids.’

  ‘Humph!’ said Rose.

  Ellie mounted the stairs and checked that her bedroom and bathroom were neat and clean, ready for use by Ursula and her groom in a while. Someone – one of the ushers? – had brought up two suitcases and left them beside the bed.

  Was Sam himself going to drive them away to their future, or was someone else taking them to the airport? Would two more suitcases now be safely hidden in a friend’s car, with air tickets, passports and travellers’ cheques?

  The florist had been thoughtful and had set a vase with some white roses in it on the dressing table. Ellie took off her hat and put it away. No need for formality now.

  Or was there? Would Diana expect formality that afternoon?

  She went along the corridor and tapped on the spare room door. Diana opened it, wearing a kimono and looking disgruntled. ‘I thought I asked you to keep everyone quiet downstairs.’

  ‘They’ll be back from church soon. Is your headache better? Can I get you anything?’

  Diana went to look out of the window at the marquee below. ‘Are you asking me what I’d like as a wedding present? You haven’t given me anything yet.’

  ‘You haven’t got married yet.’

  ‘Well, you know what I want. Make over that nice big house of yours to me.’

  ‘In the first place, it’s not my house. It belongs to the Trust, which was set up to provide housing for people who can’t otherwise afford it. I can’t just take a house off the list for myself. You know that really, don’t you?’

  A shrug. ‘If push came to shove, you’d do it, wouldn’t you? The other people on the Trust think you’re next door to a saint, so they’d play ball if you asked nicely.’

  Somewhat to her surprise, Ellie now realized that she wasn’t going to give in on this matter. ‘I’m not even going to try it. Tell me, Diana; why is Denis trying to kill me?’

  ‘What!’ Diana swung round, open-mouthed.

  Ellie sank on to the chaise longue at the bottom of the bed. ‘Twice now a large white van has driven straight at me and would have mown me down if I hadn’t been saved, first by jumping into a hedge and then by a man throwing himself into its path.’

  ‘What?’ Diana seemed genuinely bewildered. ‘But . . . but Denis can’t drive a van. You need an HGV licence for that, don’t you?’

  ‘I didn’t say he was driving. I don’t know that he was. What I think is that he might have arranged it. Yesterday someone managed to take the licence number of the van, so it’s now being sought by the police.’

  ‘But that’s got nothing to do with—’

  ‘I can’t think of anyone else who—’

  ‘Denis wouldn’t do a thing like that!’

  ‘Or get someone else to do it?’

  ‘But . . . No, why on earth should he?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to work out. You know that Denis used to visit Mrs Summers every week for a session in her bedroom?’

  Diana snorted. ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  ‘It seems your idea of him and mine are far apart. I think he killed Mrs Summers, and I think he’s behind the attempts to kill me, too.’

  Diana’s face suffused with red, proving she wasn’t wearing any make-up yet. ‘You mean to sit there and accuse Denis of being a mass murderer without the shadow of any evidence to . . . No, Mother, not even you could be so—’

  ‘If I died—’

  ‘You’ve got a good few years in you yet.’

  ‘Yes, but if I did . . . How would that benefit him?’

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t. How could it? If you hadn’t made that absurd will, leaving everything to the Trust and cutting me off with a pittance, then I suppose . . . No. Ridiculous! Are you trying to make out he’s a fortune-hunter?’

  ‘Valerie tells me he did well out of his previous in-laws until they stopped funding him. Perhaps he’s looking elsewhere for an income.’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ A frown, a shrug. ‘He must know that . . .’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘You never told him that I’d written you out of my will?’

  ‘The subject never came up. I mean, he had plenty, I had the flat and then our old house, so . . . no. We were doing all right till the recession came—’

  ‘And Valerie’s parents stopped supporting them.’

  Diana seated herself at the dressing table and met Ellie’s eyes in the mirror. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘I know you don’t want to believe it. In a way, I don’t want to believe it either, because what he’s doing scares me witless. All right –’ she held up her hand – ‘what I think he’s trying to do to me. I admit I may be wrong. Why don’t you ring him up, ask him if he loves you enough to marry you as you are, without any inheritance? See if that makes a difference?’

  ‘That would be to doubt him. I don’t doubt him. Not one little bit. I love him. He loves me. End of story.’ She picked up a brush and began to whack at her hair.

  Ellie, defeated, got to her feet. ‘I expect you’d like something to eat at lunchtime. Ursula’s reception should be starting off soon, but I’ll ask Rose to make you a sandwich and bring it up here for you. Is there anything else you’d like?’

  ‘Some peace and quiet.’

  Ellie left. She looked at the closed door of Thomas’s quiet room and wished she could go in there, lock the door, and not come out till the day was over. But she couldn’t do that because she was, in a way, acting hostess.

  Well, Mrs Belton was officially the hostess. Of sorts. Heaven defend the guests if Mrs Belton was allowed to address them all in her usual
hectoring tones.

  She could hear lots of squeaks and bumps coming from down below. She looked at her watch. Any minute now the wedding party was due to arrive. She went to stand on the landing, looking over into the hall. The grandfather clock chimed twelve, but alas, no ginger cat decorated it.

  There was silence down below.

  Mr Balls gyrated in the centre of the floor. He had changed into a black tail coat with a red waistcoat, had fluffed up his yellow wig and held a silver-topped cane in his right hand.

  Caterers and waitresses were lined up before him.

  The bridal arch had been moved yet again, this time nearer the front door.

  He inspected each of his staff in turn. ‘By special request from the bride and groom we are not to hold up proceedings for photographs, except for one single one of the reception line at the beginning. Is that understood? We are on a tight schedule and cannot afford to lose a minute.’

  One of the catering staff sent him a black look – perhaps the photographer was a relation of hers? – which he fielded and returned. ‘The reception line will be here, with bride and groom beneath the arch. The guests will move on to the drawing room for drinks and canapés. Two drinks for every person and no more. Hot canapés. At one precisely we will move to the buffet in the dining room, where there will be more wine and the buffet will be served. At that point the drawing room will be cleared of glasses and plates, and the door shut. Understood?

  ‘Meanwhile, the buffet will progress. At two we will start clearing plates and serve champagne for the short speeches and the toasts. At half past two, the married couple will retire upstairs to change. They will leave at three, if not before. We then have half an hour to clear and close down the front room in preparation for the second reception . . .’

  Ellie lost what he said next, as Diana had come to stand beside her. Diana was still wearing her kimono and hadn’t yet put on her make-up. She had a pleasant expression on her face. What did she want now?

  Diana tipped her head towards Mr Balls, still holding forth below. ‘He’s good, isn’t he?’

  ‘Excellent. I’ll get you some food as soon as I can, but it’s difficult with the caterers in the kitchen.’

  ‘I expect you can manage something. You are going to let me have that house, aren’t you?’

  Ellie shook her head.

  Diana persisted. ‘It will make all the difference to the start of our new life together.’

  ‘Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m not doing anything to help you tie yourself down to Denis. I presume he’s been on the phone to you, asking you to get the house for him?’

  ‘Of course. It’s the only thing that makes sense.’

  Ellie shook her head again. ‘Be satisfied with this party I’m giving you, and with the public relations boost it will give the 2Ds.’

  There was a stir at the front door as Mr Balls threw it wide open to admit the newly-weds, smiling into one another’s eyes, their arms closely entwined.

  ‘Welcome!’ boomed Mr Balls.

  Ursula pirouetted, arms outstretched. ‘Oh, but this is beautiful. Where is Mrs Quicke?’

  ‘Here I am,’ said Ellie, descending the staircase to be enveloped in a hug from Ursula, and to receive a double kiss from Sam.

  A rush of family members, a babel of voices, children running around, Mia starry-eyed and pink-cheeked . . . Mrs Belton looking as if she could smell something rancid . . . Mr Balls creating a line-up with the newly-weds under the bridal arch . . . A photographer fussing around . . . and being moved on by the Party Planner as the first of the guests arrived to be passed on down the line and into the drawing room.

  Ellie escaped into the kitchen quarters, where the catering staff were taking trays of Mia’s canapés out of the oven and filling glasses of wine to be carried on trays through to the guests.

  Ellie found Rose in her own room, brewing up tea and building sandwiches.

  ‘May I have some for the afternoon bride?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘Cuckoo in the nest, more like,’ said Rose, handing over a tray. ‘But I suppose we must do good to those who despitefully use us, as the bible says. Though spite is definitely one of the words I’d use for her.’

  ‘Dear Rose.’ Ellie kissed her old friend’s cheek. ‘I’ll take it up to her straight away.’

  ‘No, you won’t. You’ll sit down and have something for yourself first. What’s more, over there is a plate of Mia’s canapés, hot from the oven. They’re really good. You’ll have to taste some, or she’ll be disappointed. How is the tragedy queen, anyway?’

  ‘Needy. Whatever I give her, she wants more, and I suspect Denis is twice as greedy as her. He gives me the shivers.’ She took a canapé, said, ‘Mm,’ and took two more. Then another. And a ham sandwich. Plus a mug of tea. ‘Ah, that’s better. I’ll take Diana her tray up now.’

  She opened the door to the kitchen warily to avoid crashing into the caterers, dodged around two of them and managed to get herself out into the hall without spilling anything . . . only to come face to face with Denis, dressed to kill in full wedding fig, with a tote bag slung over one shoulder. How did he get in? Ah, the front door was open for all comers, wasn’t it?

  He’s here, in my house. But surely he can’t harm me here? Can he?

  She couldn’t think of anything to say, except, ‘You’re early.’

  He smiled. ‘I can’t wait to see my bride.’ He noticed the tray. ‘Is that for her? Where is she? I’ll take it up to her.’

  ‘I must ask her first.’

  Diana’s head appeared over the banister. ‘Come on up, Denis.’

  He took the tray up the stairs.

  TWENTY

  Saturday afternoon

  Ellie was nearly knocked over by a small boy running out of the sitting room, giggling. He was followed by his elder sister, her white skirts flying and her flower basket slung behind her. Mr Balls appeared, leading a surge of people through the hall and into the dining room to attack the buffet.

  Ursula and Sam didn’t notice Ellie, but Thomas – following close behind them – did. He gave her his own glass of white wine and put his arm around her. ‘Cheer up. It’s all going beautifully. Your organization is a marvel.’

  ‘Not mine. Mr Balls.’ She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. ‘Denis is here. He’s gone up to see Diana.’

  ‘What?’ Where could they go to talk quietly? Waitresses began to ply to and fro, kitchen to dining room, while others cleared used glasses from the room at the back. The guests spilled over into the hall, talking and laughing, everyone merry. Some children took the opportunity to run and slide on the parquet floor of the hall and were told not to do so by the grown-ups. An elderly lady limped by on two sticks, with an attentive son in attendance. Mrs Belton swam through, apologizing in a loud voice for the guests having to move from one room to another.

  Thomas urged Ellie across the hall and into the drawing room, which was now empty of guests. ‘What did Denis say?’

  Ellie threw open the French windows. Someone had been smoking in there, and the room needed airing. ‘He said he couldn’t wait to see his bride.’

  ‘Was that a euphemism?’

  ‘Probably. Sex seems to be the main attraction. The registry office appointment didn’t come off, by the way, so he’s no legal right to call her his wife. She wants me to give her that big house he’s been after. Under the terms of the trust I can’t, and out of principle I won’t even ask if they can have it.’

  ‘Let’s get out of here.’ Thomas drew her out into the only patch of garden not occupied by the marquee. The sun was bright, the air was warm. Bees clustered on lavender bushes which ought to have been cut back before now. The hollyhocks were almost over. Some roses were having a second blooming.

  Ellie relaxed a trifle and then looked up, for a murmur of voices was coming from the window of the spare bedroom upstairs. Diana and Denis were arguing.

  Was that a slap? Ellie jerked to attention, and so did Thomas.
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br />   Silence. Then came the sound of laughter.

  Ellie drained the rest of her glass of wine. ‘I needed that. Thomas, will you stick close to my back while he’s in the house?’

  ‘What can he do here, with everyone around you?’

  She tried to smile. Of course Thomas was right, and there was nothing to be afraid of, today. Perhaps it would be a different story tomorrow . . . but then, tomorrow never comes, does it?

  ‘Let’s mingle, see that everything runs smoothly.’

  There was a clash of cymbals close by and a drum roll.

  They both jumped. Ellie put her hand to her heart. ‘The DJ must have arrived and is setting up in the marquee for Diana’s party. Rose got me a sandwich earlier. You must grab something to eat yourself, or you’ll never last the course.’

  They left the French windows ajar to air the room and went back through the hall to the dining room, to catch Mr Balls thumping the floor with his cane to attract everyone’s attention. The speeches were about to begin.

  Thomas had a word with a waitress who was clearing dirty plates and glasses away, and a couple of plates piled high with delicious cold meats and salads wafted their way, while glasses of champagne appeared on a nearby table, just for them.

  As promised, the speeches were not long, and before Ellie had finished her plateful she had the pleasure of hearing Ursula thank her and Thomas for lending them her beautiful house for the day.

  The photographer snapped away, the children issued everyone with bags of bubbles, and as glasses of champagne were raised for the final toast, so the pearly bubbles floated out and around the room, almost hiding Ursula and Sam as they laughed and kissed. Flash, flash, flash! went everyone’s cameras, amid cheers and more laughter.

  Mia jumped up on a chair and stammered out, through tears and smiles, what a wonderful friend Ursula had been to her, and was helped down by the roly-poly usher, who seemed to think that Mia was the fairy off the Christmas tree.