‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because she was moved after she’d been rendered unconscious. I suppose that when he found the safe he went back to try to shake the combination out of her. She couldn’t or wouldn’t help him. His earlier blows to the head might have knocked all the sense out of her, or perhaps she was so bloody-minded she wouldn’t tell. Poor girl. He panicked and left, leaving the lights on, perhaps not realizing that she was dying. I hope he didn’t realize it.’
He made a gesture of defeat. ‘You’ve told us nothing we didn’t know already. I expected better of you.’
She ignored the sneer in his voice. ‘There’s plenty I don’t know. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? And why did the chicken cross the road?’
‘Don’t even think it!’
She allowed herself a small smile. ‘All right. I can’t even guess who might have caused Mrs Pryce’s death until we find out whether the safe was empty or not. You say Evangeline was disappointed when the will was read. When did that happen, may I ask?’
The DC replied, ‘The will wasn’t read till early this week. On Tuesday, to be precise. After that, Evangeline must have been psyching herself up to check on the safe, and finally made it on Friday night.’
‘And why did Jack the Lad hold back till now?’
The DC said, ‘We believe his name is really John, and he is listed among the beneficiaries of the will, but he didn’t attend the reading. In fact, only the immediate family attended. The others mentioned will be informed of their good fortune by letter. We have an address for him. We’ll follow that up. You do know that you—?’
Ears cut her short. ‘If she wants to play games with us, that’s all right. It takes two to tango.’
Ellie blinked. What on earth did he mean?
‘Enough,’ said Ears, gathering himself together. ‘I’m really disappointed in you, Mrs Quicke. I’d thought you’d want to help us, instead of withholding information, so—’
‘What?’
‘When you’re prepared to be open with us, we’ll be happy to continue this discussion. As it is, we’ll be on our way.’
Ellie couldn’t think what he meant. ‘I’ve done my best, but . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Let me show you out. I’ll be down in the morning to see if I can identify my bits and pieces, all right? I can sign a statement then.’
As she passed out of the door the DC muttered something about a letter, which Ellie didn’t catch because she was so happy to see the back of them.
She shut the front door with a bang. Good riddance.
She tried to turn her mind to some other matter, but for some reason couldn’t think straight. Was she missing a piece of the jigsaw puzzle? Several pieces, in fact. Facts and figures whirled around in her mind, refusing to settle into a pattern.
Perhaps there was no pattern. Perhaps it was all panic and stupidity.
Dear Lord, this is nothing to do with me. I don’t really have to worry about it, do I?
He didn’t reply. He seemed to be waiting for her to do – or say – something.
There was one question she could put to Rose, if she wanted to be nosey. The violence of Evangeline’s death was frightening. Suppose Fritz had been mistaken about Jack? It would be terrible if she’d pointed the police in the direction of an innocent man.
She went through to the kitchen. ‘Rose, does someone called Jack clean our windows?’
‘He used to, years ago, but Miss Quicke got rid of him, said he gave her the creeps. Someone the gardener recommended does it now. Is there a problem?’
‘Absolutely not. That lamb smells delicious! And here comes Thomas, back in good time to eat with us.’
Perhaps they’d go out into the country that afternoon for a walk. Or what about a visit to Kew Gardens? Yes, why not? Life was not all tears and tension, was it?
Sunday night
The night was rendered hideous by Midge, who gave up sentry duty in favour of headbutting the dining-room door.
Boom! Boom!
Screams of terror from the little cat.
Boom!
Eleven o’clock. Boom! Half past. Boom!
Thomas got out of bed, went downstairs, picked Midge up, thrust him into the kitchen and shut the door on him.
Bang! Bang! Midnight.
Midge wasn’t giving up. Rose tottered out of her room. ‘What’s the matter? Is it a burglar?’
Mia joined her. Thomas returned, collected Midge and carried him up the stairs to join Ellie in their bedroom. Midge hissed out a complaint, but in a few minutes decided that he must have won, because the intruder was downstairs and he was ensconced on a chair in the master bedroom. Besides which, he knew he could always get out of the window if he wished to do so. Tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he’d drive that little rat out of his territory!
Peace at last.
Ellie stared at the ceiling. She liked jigsaw puzzles, but this one was rather too hard for her. She reminded herself that she was going to have a busy today tomorrow, which didn’t help. At one o’clock she was still awake.
Why had Ears been so, well, almost secretive about the reading of the will? He’d implied . . . She didn’t know what he’d been thinking, but it was almost as if he thought she knew something about it. But she didn’t.
Suddenly, she remembered the two unopened letters in her study. She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb either Midge or Thomas, and crept down the stairs to her office. She closed the door and put on the light.
Yes, both letters were from solicitors.
She opened the one from Gunnar, her own solicitor, first. He reported that until he’d seen the contract Diana had signed with Denis at the start of their business venture, he could not be expected to give an opinion. But his first thoughts were that if Denis wanted to sue Diana, Diana could in turn threaten to sue him for breaking the terms of their agreement by no longer being available. If both parties to the agreement decided to sue, then the agreement might be considered null and void. Diana could then change the name of the agency and continue in practice.
Ellie smiled. Now that was an interesting way out of the dilemma, wasn’t it? But it didn’t solve the problem of how to deal with a daughter who kept on wanting more money and more attention and was never satisfied with what she’d got. And who had tried to k— . . . Ellie made herself complete the sentence. A daughter who had tried to kill her mother. All right, it had been a momentary impulse. But if Thomas hadn’t come in at that point . . . It didn’t bear thinking about, but Ellie knew that some time she would have to face up to what had happened.
Blood is thicker than water, etcetera. Even if Diana was the most unloving of daughters, she was still Ellie’s responsibility. Till death do us part. Surely that was the Christian way of looking at things?
The other envelope was from a solicitor Ellie didn’t know. It was much larger and contained a letter on thick, expensive paper and another envelope. A writ from Diana?
No. Very far from it.
Ellie sank down into her chair. The covering letter was from a solicitor called Greenbody. Now that rang a bell, didn’t it? Yes; he – or possibly they – were Mrs Pryce’s solicitors. Edwina Pryce had mentioned them.
Ellie scanned the letter. Apparently, Mrs Pryce had left Ellie a legacy. How very pleasant. And unexpected. After all, Ellie had only met Mrs Pryce once, although she thought they might have been good friends if they’d met more often.
Mr Greenbody requested that Mrs Quicke contact him soonest to discuss the terms of the will. Fine. Ellie would do that. A few thousand would be nice, to offset the cost of redoing the bathroom and the holiday in Paris.
There was an envelope addressed to Ellie alongside the covering letter:
Dear Mrs Quicke,
Your aunt told me a great deal about you, and I have made further enquiries since her death. I understand that you administer a considerable estate for charitable purposes with common sense and mercy, while at the same time supporting various members of your famil
y and friends through their trials and tribulations. I sympathize, as I have over the years tried to do likewise. I have always lived by the maxim that money doesn’t bring happiness but can sometimes ease people’s path through life and I believe you work on the same principle.
My dear husband disliked the way his children had turned out, and made me promise not to give them any large sums of money, but to ensure they were never short of the basics. For a long time I was at a loss how to arrange for this to be done after I pass on, until I heard about you.
Apart from the immediate family, I have grown fond of several people who have made my life so much brighter in recent years, and whom I shall miss when I move away. They work hard, and suitable injections of cash might make their lives easier.
I intend to spend my last years in the best retirement home I can find, trusting that my money doesn’t give out before I do. But just in case I keel over with a stroke tomorrow, or die in a motorway pile-up, I have decided to make a will as follows:
Five thousand pounds each to my stepson Edgar, to my stepdaughter Edwina, to her daughter Evangeline, and to my step-great-nephew Terry.
One thousand pounds each to my gardener, Fritz; to my window cleaner John; and to my faithful cleaners, Vera and Pet.
I have appointed you, Ellie Quicke, and another trustworthy old friend to be my executors, for which you will each receive the sum of ten thousand pounds. The residue of my estate – including the house – goes to you, Ellie Quicke, to be disbursed at your discretion, either to any of the above who may be in need from time to time, or for any other suitable charitable purpose that comes to your attention. I place no restrictions on you about the house; do with it as you think best.
I wish we could have met more than once. I think we would have enjoyed one another’s company, as I enjoyed that of your aunt. I am aware that I am placing a heavy burden on your shoulders. Blame Drusilla for misleading me about her circumstances all those years ago.
Flavia Pryce.
The pieces of the jigsaw whirled round and round in Ellie’s head. She put the letter down on her desk and said, ‘Dear me.’
She read it all through again.
It explained much that had been puzzling her.
Oh, those silly creatures, rushing around in a panic . . . Why couldn’t they have waited?
Ellie read the letter a third time and sighed. She wished she’d known Mrs Pryce better. Perhaps one day Ellie would be able to deal with Diana with the same firmness which Mrs Pryce had exercised over her family.
Meanwhile . . . there were a couple more pieces of the puzzle to put into place, but she couldn’t deal with them till the morning.
Monday morning
Everyone looked jaded next morning except Midge, who ate his breakfast noisily and with relish while keeping an eye on the door to the hall.
‘You’re staying in the kitchen this morning, Midge,’ said Rose. ‘Just till we can get your little friend back to where she belongs.’
Midge sent her a look of contempt, backed away from his dish, and elongated to double his length. He stretched out first one leg behind him, and then the other, strolled to the cat flap in the kitchen door, and made his exit.
Mia, stacking plates in the dishwasher, was anxious. ‘He can’t get into the dining room from outside, can he?’ She gave a little scream, looking at her watch. ‘I’ll be late. Rose, can you finish up here for me? There’s a board meeting at ten, and I said I’d get there early.’
‘You’re enjoying getting back to work?’ asked Ellie. ‘Is everything going well . . . At the printing works, I mean?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Mia was distracted, picking up her handbag, checking to see if her keys and mobile phone were in it. ‘We have more work coming in now I’ve made them appoint a proper salesman, and I’m pushing them to consider new technology, but dragging them into the twenty-first century is like pulling teeth. Rose, can you manage without me all day today? I’ve got a driving lesson this afternoon. It’s about time I got myself some wheels, and a friend promised to give me some practice in his car this evening.’
Good news all round.
‘Bless you, of course I can manage,’ said Rose. ‘Off you go, and I’ll have a nice hotpot waiting for you when you get back this evening. Meanwhile, I’d better make sure all the windows in the dining room are shut and locked, and our little guest hasn’t done any further damage.’
Ellie looked in the fridge. Had they enough food in the house, and would she have to go to the shops to get some more? Mm. Well stocked for once.
Rose returned to the kitchen with the kitten on her shoulder. ‘She was ever so pleased to see me. Hasn’t she got a big purr for her size?’
Thomas wandered in and, seeing the little cat, held out his arms. ‘She’s a pretty little thing. I’ll have her in with me in my study this morning, if you like. Midge can’t open that door.’
‘And I’ll ring the Cats Protection League, find out where she belongs.’ Ellie yawned. She hadn’t slept well. One part of her wanted to drag Thomas into her office and show him the solicitor’s letter, so that they could have a nice comfortable discussion about whether she should accept or not. Ten thousand pounds sounded a lot if you said it quickly, but Ellie had a feeling that accepting the legacy would cost her far more than that in terms of time and energy. It would be best if she read it all over again, quietly, by herself.
She rang the Cats Protection League, only to discover they knew nothing of a half-grown brindled cat without a collar. If Ellie had found a stray, would it be possible for her to foster it for a while? They’d get someone to call in to see her about it when they had time.
Oh. Maybe Vera would know something about the cat.
She disinterred Vera’s mobile phone number from the stir fry on her desk. ‘Vera, it’s Ellie Quicke here. You’re at work somewhere, I assume? Can you spare a minute to answer a couple of quick questions? Well; three, actually.’
‘Sure, I can polish at the same time. Did you have a good holiday?’
‘I did, thank you. Have you had a letter from Mrs Pryce’s solicitor, saying she’d left you some money?’
‘Wasn’t that good of her? I told Mikey we’d get a holiday out of it, but it will have to be half term, since he’s back at school now. I’m a bit worried because the rent’s just gone up, but it’s important to have a holiday, isn’t it?’
‘It is indeed. Next, there’s a stray cat, brindled, only half grown, big ears, no collar, been wandering around the place. Didn’t you say that Mrs Pryce had two cats, but they were taken by the Cats Protection League?’
‘They were both black and white and went to a good home. I asked. The cat you’re talking about belongs up the road – three, no four, houses up – and it’s called Molly. I do them Wednesdays. They’ve got four little monsters under the age of six, three boys, one girl, and the girl’s the worst for jumping on the cat. Their father thought they’d like a pet, but they scare the life out of her. I’m not surprised she’s trying to find another home. I’ll give you their phone number if you can hold on a minute . . .’
The girl must have put the phone down. Somewhere nearby a vacuum cleaner swooped and whined. ‘Are you there?’ Vera was back. ‘I’ll read it out to you, shall I?’
Ellie made a note of the number. ‘Um, Vera; they haven’t put up any notices asking for the return of the cat, have they? I’m just wondering how attached they are to her.’
‘Tell the truth, not very. You want to turn her over to the Cats people?’
‘I suppose so, in the end. But I’ll ring these people first. One last question; when is Pet coming back?’
‘Oh, didn’t they tell you? No, of course, you’ve been away. She and her husband have been asked to stay on down in the Isle of Wight, help her friends run their boarding house. They’ve even given up their council flat in Acton. But my new mate’s working out just fine. I really like her, and she loves antique furniture, knows how to bring it up a treat. We’ll see you tom
orrow as usual?’
‘Can Pet drive?’
‘Yes, of course. Most people can, can’t they? It’s just silly billies like me that can’t. Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean—’ She’d remembered that Ellie didn’t drive, either.
‘That’s all right, Vera. What about her husband? Does he drive, and do they have a car?’
‘They did have but it died the death and they’re doing without at the moment. Saving hard, you know?’
‘That makes sense. All right, Vera. See you tomorrow.’
That filled in one more piece of the puzzle.
NINETEEN
Monday morning
Midge pushed open Ellie’s office door and prowled around with murder in mind.
Ellie abandoned thoughts of a mysterious death and rang the house down the road which might have mislaid a cat. A distracted female nearly leaped down the phone with gratitude when Ellie said she’d found a kitten which might belong to them. It appeared that the eldest boy had been driving them mad trying to find it, rushing around the roads as soon as he got back from school, calling, ‘Molly, Molly!’ at every house. He had put up some notices, but hadn’t used proper tacks so they’d all fallen down. He was in such a state as you wouldn’t believe, and had Ellie got the kitten safe because it needed to go to the vets and be microchipped and so on . . .
Ellie sighed, said they would keep the kitten safe until called for, and hoped that would be as soon as possible.
A pity. Thomas adored that kitten.
She rang the police station, only to be told that Ears was out. Of course. Maybe he was, and maybe he wasn’t, but she could always leave a message, couldn’t she? She was going to enjoy this. ‘Please tell the inspector that Mrs Quicke called. As she is now the owner of the Pryce house and its contents, she would like to be present when your expert opens the safe. Please let her know when this is to take place.’
She supposed that meant she accepted the legacy. She phoned Mrs Pryce’s solicitor and was connected to Mr Greenbody’s son, ‘young’ Mr Greenbody, who sounded efficient and impersonal.
Murder My Neighbour Page 23
