Ellie sobbed. ‘Nothing’s right! Diana’s going to accuse me of murder!’
Lesley was shocked. ‘Diana’s going to do what?’
Ellie was too wound up to stop now that she had started. ‘She says I murdered Monique, which I didn’t, I swear I didn’t. How could I have done so, anyway? I haven’t seen her for months. Diana makes herself believe whatever she wants to believe and oh, I can’t bear it!’
‘Wait a minute! I don’t understand. I’ve been told to speak to you because someone rang the police station to say Thomas had been embezzling funds, which I didn’t believe for a minute, but murder? That’s so ridiculous it’s … Words fail me! Let’s sit down and you can tell me all about it.’
Rafael said, ‘I’ll make a pot of tea, shall I?’ He departed for the kitchen quarters.
Ellie couldn’t stop talking. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so stupid, but it’s been a terrible few days, and when Diana said that … She wants money as always, and when she found out that Monique has left me some … Do you remember Monique? Perhaps you don’t. She was Evan’s first wife, long divorced and she’s left all this money not to me but the trust, and Diana’s furious and she said she was going to tell the police that—’
‘From the beginning,’ said Lesley, steering Ellie into the sitting room and depositing her in her high-backed chair.
Ellie struggled to speak clearly. ‘Diana’s going to say that I killed Monique, because I wouldn’t help her. Wouldn’t help Diana, I mean. Financially. As if I could, because it has to go through the trust, anyway, and they wouldn’t agree to help Diana. Why should they? And I didn’t kill Monique. I don’t even know exactly when she died!’
Lesley pulled up a chair and held her hand. ‘Take a deep breath, girl! Get a grip.’
Ellie gulped and tried to calm herself down. ‘Sorry, sorry. I know it’s ridiculous, and Diana does too, really. At least, she would if she were thinking straight, but I do see that she’s in a bit of a hole. What’s happened is that they bought an option on a piece of land by the river, thinking they could get permission to develop it. Now they need to complete the deal but can’t, so they’ll lose what they’ve already invested. It sounds as if their finances are in a dreadful mess and they ought never to have committed themselves to such a deal, but what do I know about such things, anyway?’
Rafael clanked in with the hostess trolley. Teapot, mugs instead of cups and saucers, milk, sugar and the biscuit tin. ‘Carbohydrates for shock. I’ll be mother, shall I?’ He poured out mugs of hot, very strong tea, added sugar and handed them around. ‘No talking, by order. Not till we’ve drunk the tea and had several biscuits each.’
Ellie felt in her pockets for her phone. Had she put it back in her handbag, and if so, where had she dropped that? ‘I have to ring the hospital.’
Rafael said, ‘You drink your tea, and I’ll do it.’ He got out his smartphone, rang the hospital and was switched here and there. And listened. He clicked his phone off. ‘They’ve admitted him to a ward. You can visit this evening.’
Ellie drank her tea and tried to relax. ‘Understood. I’ll be all right in a minute.’
Lesley took a second biscuit and said, ‘Rafael, would you like to fill me in while Ellie recovers her wits?’
Rafael replied for Ellie. ‘Monique – you remember her, don’t you? Impressive woman, owned a successful estate agency in Kensington, walked with a stick. Married to Evan for a short time, twenty-odd years ago. Monique had a fall some weeks ago, was hospitalized, went downhill and died. She was cremated early this morning. Ellie and I went to the service in church at noon. The will was read this afternoon. Mrs Quicke’s trust gets practically everything with strings attached. Said strings are that the trust must look after the son Monique produced with Evan, if he is ever well enough to live in the community again. Evan and Diana were furious and uttered threats which were probably libellous, knowing them. Incredibly, they accused Ellie of murdering Monique. Ellie is distressed because she liked Monique. End of.’
Lesley drank tea and ate her second biscuit. ‘Let’s get this straight. Diana is going to lodge an official complaint against her mother? Not against Thomas?’
Rafael shrugged. ‘So Ellie said.’
Ellie set aside her sodden hankie and reached for the box of tissues on a nearby table. She mopped herself up and blew her nose. ‘There’s no reasoning with Diana. She lashes out without thinking. Evan’s getting old and losing his touch and she has two small children under five. She’s under a lot of stress. But to accuse me of murder!’
‘How many other people have you and Thomas upset recently?’
Ellie took a deep breath. ‘Thomas didn’t upset anyone. Six people have died recently and left him varying sums of money. Plus their relatives and friends.’
Lesley blinked. ‘How odd, Ellie, really?’
‘Have you got half an hour to tell you what’s been happening? We’ve been trying to sort it out ourselves this week and got nowhere. Thomas was going to take the whole business to you tomorrow, but now he’s in hospital and I don’t know how …’ She restrained tears with difficulty. ‘Let me fetch the paperwork we’ve been collecting and you can see what’s been going on for yourself.’
She got to her feet, trying to think where she’d left the papers. ‘Now, I know some of the letters are in Thomas’s study and some in mine … Which reminds me that I must speak to his secretary urgently. Give me a minute, will you, Lesley?’
She left the room as Rafael said, ‘Shall I pour you another cuppa, Lesley?’
Ellie dashed down to Thomas’s study at the end of the corridor and was not surprised to find his secretary’s desk unoccupied. It was getting latish on a Friday afternoon, and the woman didn’t usually work long hours. Of course, she didn’t know Thomas was in hospital, did she?
Ellie rubbed her forehead, trying to think. Ought she to get in touch with his secretary and ask her as a favour to work on the magazine over the weekend? Ah, but the woman wasn’t usually around at weekends, was she? Didn’t she go up north to visit her mother, who was ailing? In which case, she was not going to be dragged back to London till Monday when they were due to send the stuff to the printers.
Ellie decided that if the magazine went out two days late, it wouldn’t matter.
She collected some of the relevant papers, took them to her study and with trembling fingers booted up the photocopier.
Rafael tapped on the door and she started. He said, ‘Lesley suspects you’re going to take photocopies, but she’s letting you do it. If she’d disapproved, she’d have accompanied you to your lair and stood over you till you handed the stuff over. Do the earliest ones first. I’ll take them back to her, saying you’ve put them in different files and you’re taking a while to find where you’ve put everything.’
Ellie nodded, putting an original into the copier, and pressing buttons. When two had been done, she handed the originals to Rafael, who took them back down the corridor to the sitting room.
Ellie proceeded with the next lot, and the next …
Rafael returned, ironing out a grin. ‘She knows exactly what you’re doing, but she’s not going to say anything.’
Ellie turned off the copier. ‘I don’t know why I’m bothering. What good is it going to do to have copies?’
‘You’ll think of something. By the way, I think your housekeeper’s just come back. I heard someone come in the front door as I delivered the first papers to Lesley. Whoever it was didn’t go upstairs but went straight along to the kitchen.’
Ellie groaned. ‘Another problem. I’ve got to find somewhere else for her to live. You wouldn’t have a spare room to let, would you?’
‘I’m not that stupid. Let her throw herself on the mercies of the borough council. They have facilities for waifs and strays.’
He was right. Hard-hearted, but right.
They took the rest of the papers back to the sitting room and delivered them to Lesley, who looked through them and said, ‘Talk me t
hrough this, will you?’
So Ellie did so. She began at the beginning, when the first cheque arrived from the estate of a parishioner. Ellie said, ‘It was unexpected, but he’d known and liked her. He was grateful, if slightly surprised, that she’d remembered him. The same with the second one. Well, that wasn’t a parishioner but someone who lived locally and got in touch with Thomas through the charity Age UK. She was pretty well housebound. Thomas used to visit her, not every week but every now and then.’
Lesley spread the paperwork out on the gateleg table in the window and put the documents in order as Ellie talked her through the arrival of numbers three to five and Thomas’s growing bewilderment as to why he’d been selected as a recipient of this bounty.
Ellie said, ‘He was beginning to think something was not quite right when he got a cheque from the estate of an old friend for a much greater amount, in fact for twenty thousand pounds. He’d known the man well for many years. He believed that that last cheque was all right but, knowing that number six was all right made the others more and not less suspect.’
Lesley eyed the paperwork. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. None of the early ones are for large amounts, but number six is for twenty thousand pounds and that is a different matter. You say that’s genuine. Have you checked?’
‘We haven’t had time. It was Thursday afternoon – only yesterday! – that Thomas received that big cheque. His reaction was that he was going to ask you to look into the matter, and that he didn’t feel he could possibly accept it, or any of the other cheques he’d been sent. I didn’t agree with him entirely. I thought that he should accept the money from his friend, but … Yes, I had to admit that there was something very strange about the earlier ones. I suggested trying to find out some link between the testators which would account for them leaving Thomas money, and he agreed. We discussed the matter with Rafael and Susan, and they came up with some information which may or may not be helpful.’
Rafael said, ‘Number four. I knew him slightly. If I say he was a corrupt councillor, you’ll probably know who I mean.’
Lesley looked startled. Then thoughtful. Finally she leaned down and picked one particular set of papers up off the floor. ‘Councillor Thornwell?’
‘Rumour indicates he was far from squeaky clean, but you didn’t hear that from me.’
Ellie glanced at Rafael, wondering if he were going to mention the possibly corrupt deal Diana and Evan had been involved in with Councillor Thornwell, but Rafael’s expression remained guileless.
Lesley narrowed her eyes at Rafael. ‘You have no proof of anything untoward?’
Rafael widened his eyes. ‘About what?’
Lesley said, ‘Humpf. All right. So where’s the connection between Thornwell and Thomas?’
‘That’s just it,’ said Ellie. ‘I don’t know. Thomas didn’t know. I haven’t a clue where to start on that one.’
Thomas is in hospital and I don’t know how I can remain sitting here, talking calmly about these cheques as if they were important.
Lesley said, ‘At ten this morning someone rang the station to claim that Thomas had been stealing from his parishioners. It was a woman who refused to give her name. The call was recorded. It landed on my desk with a thud. My boss was thrilled to hear that Thomas was being accused of something criminal and asked me to investigate. I don’t think it was Diana, because she speaks in a clipped manner. I’ll see if I can get permission for you to listen to the tape. You might recognize the voice. Do you think it could be one of the people you’ve interviewed about Thomas’s cheques?’
Ellie shook her head. ‘I only saw two of them, and I can’t think it would be either. I met Bob and Dawn Pullin, the stepson and stepdaughter of Mrs Pullin – she’s number five – the woman who left him a thousand pounds. Neither of them knew Thomas. Neither of them thought there was anything odd about their stepmother’s list of bequests. They spoke openly to me about their problems in life, but there was no hint of resentment. Well, except that Bob Pullin – who is not the nicest of men – did say that if the lawyers hadn’t had to pay out a number of bequests, they’d have had enough in the bank to get the house ready to put on the market. I offered to help with a loan, an offer which they accepted with pleasure. Neither of them would have complained about me or Thomas.’
Lesley said, ‘I’ll have to see them, though.’
‘Granted. I also went to see a long-time old friend of mine, Gwen Harris, Harold’s widow. I don’t think either Gwen or Harold ever met Thomas. They knew me, but not him. When I raised the matter of Harold’s bequest to Thomas, Gwen wasn’t at all perturbed about it. Poor dear, she’s in a bad way. On anti-depressants. Those are the only two families I visited. Maybe the police can get further, but I’m stuck.’
Lesley shuffled the papers together. ‘You have a knack of getting people to talk and I suspect I’ll get less out of them than you. Have you got their phone numbers?’
‘I can give you those for the Pullins, brother and sister, and for Gwen. I haven’t had time to do any more.’
Lesley was soothing. ‘Don’t worry. I can get their details easily enough.’
Ellie looked at the clock. Was it running slow? She looked at her watch. When had Rafael said that visiting hours started?
Lesley pushed the paperwork together. ‘You’ll want to get to the hospital. I’m sure it’s nothing serious with Thomas. In the meantime, you do understand that you mustn’t try to contact any of these people about the bequests? Leave all that to me.’
Ellie said, ‘Oh, but I have to lend the Pullin family some money and arrange for their stepmother’s house to be cleared. I promised!’ She ran her fingers back through her hair.
How long will it take me to get to the hospital? It’s a bus to the Broadway, and then another to the hospital. Perhaps I’d better take a cab.
Lesley tapped the papers into a neat pile. ‘I know nothing about that.’
Did Lesley mean that she didn’t want to hear about it, or that she didn’t want to know about it? Confusion …!
Rafael said, ‘Suppose Ellie arranges the loan and the clearing up through a solicitor. That would be all right, wouldn’t it?’
‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ said Lesley, slipping the papers into a folder, and getting ready to leave.
Ellie wasn’t sure what this meant, either. ‘Do you mean, “out of sight, out of mind”?’
Lesley said, ‘Give Thomas my love,’ and took herself off.
Rafael put the last of the tea things back on the trolley. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital. Saves time.’
‘You’re a busy man. You can’t just—’
‘Yes, I can. If I didn’t, can you imagine what Susan would say? I’d be sleeping on the settee tonight. I’ll ring her, tell her what’s happening.’ He got out his phone.
Ellie pushed the trolley across the hall and down to the kitchen from which came a smell of burning and the sound of the radio going at full blast.
Oh dear! Yes, there was Hetty, hair all over the place, a smudge of flour on her cheek, giving vent to little screams of horror, attempting to lift a baking tray full of burnt scones out of the top oven. The table was littered with pans and jars and a bag of flour, spilling its contents everywhere.
Also, there was a whirring sound. What could that be? The liquidizer, overdoing it? Scraps of uncooked pastry clung to the board on which Ellie usually made sandwiches, and there were coils of apple peel everywhere.
On the floor by the oven was a puddle with a broken eggshell in it. If someone slipped on that, they could do themselves a serious injury. As if that were not enough, something boiled over on the stove.
‘Oh, oh, oh!’ cried Hetty, dropping the tray on to the table, which overturned half a bottle of milk. The liquid ran thither and hither over the surface, found its way to the edge and dripped down to the floor.
‘Oh, oh, oh! Everything’s gone wrong!’ Hetty flung herself into the big chair at the head of the table and
rocked to and fro in a nicely judged case of hysteria.
Ellie told herself to keep calm. Very calm. She abandoned the trolley to switch off the radio first, and then the gas under the pot on the stove. And lastly, the liquidizer.
A beautiful silence flooded into the room.
Ellie righted the milk bottle, seized some kitchen towel and wiped up first the egg on the floor and then the milk.
Hetty wept, jetting out words that sometimes made sense and sometimes didn’t. ‘But I didn’t know you were coming back so … I thought to surprise … I know it’s all a mess, it’s all gone wrong. But I thought you’d be so pleased if I made you a lovely pie and some scones for tea, and it would make up for … Because I know how hard you work, and I thought that if I made you a really nice supper, you’d give me another chance.’
Ellie tipped the burnt scones into the bin and put the baking tray in soak. A pan full of apples cooking in a sugary liquid had boiled over on the stove. The sugar in the pan was going to make clearing up that mess difficult.
Ellie got out the mop and cleaned the floor where the egg and the milk had been. The egg box was now empty, which meant there wouldn’t be any eggs left for breakfast.
Hetty wept louder than ever.
Rafael came in. He exclaimed something which Ellie decided not to hear, seized the mop from Ellie and proceeded to give the floor a better clean. Ellie tackled the mess on the table. Then she remembered that Hetty said she’d put a pie in the oven? Ellie opened the bottom oven door and black smoke flooded into the kitchen.
Rafael said something else sharp.
Ellie looked at the clock. Oughtn’t she to be on her way to the hospital by now?
Rafael intercepted her look. ‘I’ll take you. Let’s clear this lot up, first.’
Hetty was gulping, red-faced. But no longer in tears. ‘I was only trying to help!’
‘Yes,’ said Ellie. ‘I know. I did ask you not to. We let you have the flat upstairs until you could get yourself sorted, and we never expected you to use our kitchen. We haven’t asked for rent which makes you a guest and not a tenant. Your stay here hasn’t worked out. We wish you nothing but good, but you are no longer welcome. I have been trying to find somewhere else for you to go locally and had no luck. I must ask you to make an effort to find something for yourself. Now!’
Murder for Good Page 14
