Murder for Good

by Veronica Heley

  ‘How very neat,’ said Ellie.

  ‘What?’ said Hetty, with a sharp glance which morphed into one of her loud laughs. ‘I didn’t realize until later what a fright you must have had when you came in and found me asleep.’ She placed a cup of coffee in front of Ellie. ‘I’ve added two sugar lumps. That’s right, isn’t it?’

  Ellie only took one in coffee and she usually drank tea in the mornings but this was no time to quibble. She said, ‘I agree that it was a touching scene last night with you laid out on the chair and a note saying you were sorry.’

  Hetty nodded. ‘I was sorry for our disagreement earlier.’

  ‘I’m sure you were,’ said Ellie. ‘It’s a pity we had to get the paramedics out to attend to you when they’re so busy at weekends. Did they have to wash out your stomach?’

  ‘Well, they were going to, but I managed to regain possession of my senses and explain what had happened. They wanted to do it anyway, but I persuaded them that the joke was on me. I had to discharge myself, of course. They were so kind, wanting to keep me in overnight, but I said I couldn’t let you go on thinking I’d tried to kill myself, and that you needed me to look after you. Finally they let me go, and I’m none the worse for wear, as you can see.’

  Yes, Ellie did see. She’d been neatly tricked. Manipulated by a master. Game, set and match to Hetty. Well, Hetty might have won the battle, but she hadn’t won the war.

  Ellie finished the coffee which was a little too strong and sweet for her taste. She said, ‘Well, now that’s out of the way, I’m still asking you to pack up and leave. Today. Can you arrange to stay with a friend somewhere? Or do you have enough money to go to a bed and breakfast place?’

  Hetty’s face crumpled in distress. ‘Oh, you can’t mean you want to turn me out, after everything that’s happened! Not after all I’ve done for you and Thomas! You wouldn’t be so ungrateful! No, it’s not in you to be cruel. I promise to get you a duplicate key today. I can get one when I go out shopping in the Avenue. You know the man who repairs shoes? He has a key-cutting machine. I can take my key in and he’ll turn me out a duplicate in a trice.’

  Hetty seized the pad and pencil they kept on the fridge. ‘Let’s make out a list of things that I can get this morning for you. Some of those delicious croissants from the bakery for a start, and half a dozen of those lovely white eggs we get from the butcher. And some greens, don’t you think? I’ll bake you one of my famous steak and kidney pies for tonight’s supper, shall I? Just for the two of us.’

  Ellie took the pad and pencil off Hetty. ‘Hetty, we need to have a serious talk. I’m glad you haven’t suffered any ill effects from whatever you did or didn’t take yesterday, and I’m pleased you feel on top of the world today, but I am not feeling so happy. You keep avoiding the problem of your staying on here, but we do have to face it.’

  ‘No need, no need. I can take a hint. You want me to be your housekeeper so that I don’t have to pay you any rent for my little flat upstairs.’

  ‘That is not what I want. In fact, Thomas and I are thinking of downsizing, so we won’t need any help in the house in future.’

  Hetty’s jaw sagged. ‘You mean, you’re selling up? You’re letting that awful daughter of yours push you into a one-bedroom flat somewhere? No, no! I won’t let you do that. We wouldn’t be at all happy there.’

  For a moment Ellie entertained the possibility of Hetty turning on Diana by giving her sleeping pills and Ibuprofen. Would it work? Who would come out on top?

  There was no question about the result in Ellie’s mind. Diana would come out on top. Setting Hetty on to Diana would be like setting a hamster on to a fox. No, no.

  Ellie told herself that she must not let her imagination run riot. She said, ‘Seriously, Hetty, this is not working. I want you out of here.’

  Hetty’s head nodded up and down, up and down. ‘Of course, of course. You want me out of your kitchen. You want me to keep to my quarters and do all my cooking up there. I understand. I will prepare your meals in my tiny kitchen up at the top and bring them down for you when you are ready to eat. There, now! That’s settled.’

  Frustration!

  ‘Hetty, I am trying to be nice about this, but you have to be out of here before Thomas gets back from hospital. Today. This morning if possible. If you need a few hours to contact someplace you have to move to, then I’ll allow you that but—’

  ‘You’re giving me notice! Oh, oh, oh! You’re turning me out on to the street, in the cold and the rain! Oh, who will take pity on me?’

  ‘I would have done,’ said Ellie between her teeth, ‘if you hadn’t made Thomas ill by giving him Ibuprofen.’

  A long, long silence. Hetty’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean? How could you even think such a thing? You shouldn’t say things like that, you know. It will get you into trouble. Lots of trouble. That’s actionable, that is.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Ellie, crossing her fingers. ‘Take me to court. I have the Ibuprofen packet with your fingerprints on it, and that’s what the hospital say has poisoned Thomas’s stomach.’

  ‘There’s no proof that I put anything in Thomas’s coffee—’

  ‘Who said anything about his coffee?’

  Hetty’s eyes went wide with shock. She’d walked into that one, hadn’t she? But she recovered. ‘I’m sure I’m not going to stay where I’m not wanted. It will take me some time to find somewhere else to go. Shall we say a week from today? That’s a bit quick, but I dare say I can do that.’

  ‘This morning,’ said Ellie, holding out her hand, ‘and I’ll have that key off you now, if you please.’

  Hetty threw her hands up in the air and waved them around. She acted the part of a poor, put-upon, distracted female to perfection. ‘I have nowhere to go! I can’t afford to rent a place! You know that!’

  Actually Ellie was beginning to realize she’d been mistaken there. Hetty always boasted that she worked at lots of different jobs and even if they were for a minimum wage, since she hadn’t been paying any rent while she’d lived at Ellie’s then she must have some money in the bank.

  Another thought occurred to Ellie. If Hetty had had contact at any time with the people who’d left money to Thomas, then they might have left money to her, too.

  Ellie had a mental picture of herself going down the corridor to fetch the mail as it dropped through the letter box every day, and always finding Hetty there before her. Ellie had never seen letters addressed to Hetty because Hetty had always collected them first.

  Then, somehow or other Hetty had acquired sleeping tablets of a type not available over the counter. Had she by any chance stashed more of them away upstairs? Might she have used these tablets before to shorten someone’s life? What an appalling thought! And yet, there must have been some good reason for Hetty to have put a lock on the door to her quarters.

  The question was if Ellie were able to search Hetty’s quarters, what would she find?

  At the moment there was absolutely nothing to tie Hetty in to that string of deaths and if Hetty realized she was under suspicion, she would take care to remove any evidence when she left.

  Or, would she leave it behind to incriminate Thomas and Ellie?

  One minute Ellie was sure that Hetty had caused the deaths and in the next minute, she told herself not to be so absurd.

  What to do? She wasn’t normally so indecisive, was she? She told herself that she had a right to go into every room of the house, but to search Hetty’s flat she needed to get the woman out of the way. How to do that?

  Offer her money, of course.

  ‘Very well, Hetty. I do realize it might be difficult for you to find accommodation without paying rent in advance. Suppose I lend you a hundred pounds to see you over the next few days? You can repay it when your circumstances improve.’

  I’ll never see the money again, but it’s worth it to get rid of her.

  Hetty’s eyes sharpened with greed. ‘Oh, would you? Could you, do you think you could manage five
hundred?’

  She thinks I’m feeling so guilty I’ll be glad to pay her off.

  ‘Two hundred. That’s all I can manage. You have a bank account?’

  ‘Building society. Make a cheque payable to me.’

  Ellie found her handbag and wrote the cheque out. ‘There you are. Now I do understand you’ll need the morning to find somewhere to go, and I have to go out, too. Perhaps by this afternoon you’ll be ready to leave. Would you like me to help you pack?’

  ‘Oh, no. Not in the least. I travel light, you know. I always have.’ Hetty was on her feet, the cheque clutched fast in her hand. ‘I suppose, if I go now, I should be able to get to the building society when they open.’ She was on the move. ‘I’ll just fetch my coat, and I’ll be off.’

  Ellie shouted after her. ‘Leave me your key when you go.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ The answer came floating back.

  Ellie cleared the table and set the dishwasher working. The house seemed very quiet. Midge the cat, who had disappeared when Hetty arrived, purred round Ellie’s ankles asking for more food. She told him he couldn’t have any more and he settled down to attend to his toilet.

  Hello? Was that the front door closing, quietly?

  Ellie hastened along the corridor and opened the front door only to see Hetty turn into the road, travelling at a fair pace. She hadn’t left her key. Of course.

  This hardened Ellie’s suspicions. Why hadn’t Hetty left her key? Answer: because she didn’t want Ellie looking into her quarters. This made Ellie all the more determined to do so. If she couldn’t break into her own rooms, then who could?

  Ellie sighed. She really was not good with tools. Screwdrivers slipped and cut her wrists when she tried to use them. Hammers aimed themselves at her thumbnail. The best use for chisels, in her opinion, was to cut pieces of cake evenly. But needs must.

  She couldn’t wait for Rafael to get a locksmith. No. Hetty was at long last resigned to leaving and on her return would be packing to leave, taking any evidence of wrongdoing with her. It was now or never.

  Ellie rummaged around in the cupboard under the stairs and came up with a large chisel and a hammer which was so heavy it took an effort to pick it up. Thus armed, she mounted the stairs to the first floor, and made her way round the landing to the door which shut off the second lot of stairs to the attic flat.

  The door was firmly locked. Hetty really did not want Ellie in her rooms, did she?

  Well, tough. Here comes the housebreaker to break off your lock. Except, Ellie wasn’t sure how you went about it. Did you try to force open the hinges? Only, she couldn’t see where the hinges were. Ah yes. They were hidden behind a piece of wood that ran from top to bottom at the side of the door. There was a similar piece of wood to the right of the doorframe, where the lock was.

  In books, the hero kicks the door open.

  Ellie looked down at her open-toed sandals and decided that that method was not for her.

  She tried to think how Thomas might have tackled the problem. Oh, dear Lord, look after Thomas, won’t you? When would it be all right for me to ring the hospital? After the doctor’s rounds, they said. In your mercy, Lord.

  Back to business. She seemed to remember that in the dim and distant past, she’d watched her father open a locked door with a hammer and chisel. Her mother had locked the door of the junk room which contained the family’s luggage and they’d needed it for their holidays. Unfortunately the key had been mislaid, and drastic measures had become necessary.

  Once her father had eased that strip of wood away from the frame, the workings of the lock had been exposed and he had been able to pull the door open. This method meant that the strip of wood could be replaced and that there had been no damage to the door or the doorframe.

  In the here and now, Ellie noted that the door opened away from her, so if she managed to pull the strip of wood away, in theory she could get at the lock and prise the door open.

  With both hands, and putting all her weight behind it, she managed to insert the fine edge of the chisel between the door and the strip of wood, and hammered it in. A small space opened up in the paintwork.

  Fine. Now she had to pull the chisel out and stick it in a bit lower down. Ugh. It required a considerable effort. But she did it.

  Bravo! A gap of maybe four centimetres had opened up. It was going to take ages to free the strip of wood from the frame.

  She tried again. Something crackled, and another couple of centimetres was freed from paint. At this rate she’d be here for hours. Hetty would return and confront her, and then there’d be a horrid row and Hetty would leave the house and with her any chance of solving the mystery around the gifts to Thomas.

  Oh, Thomas! Don’t die on me! Please Lord, look after him.

  Ellie looked at her watch. She’d wasted too much time already.

  She picked up the heavy hammer, stood well back and swung with both hands at the lock on the door. That effort dented the wood below the lock. Her aim was poor.

  Another go. This time she caught the edge of the lock.

  Panting, she tried again.

  Four goes later, she dropped the hammer. She was exhausted. The door looked as if it had been attacked by termites but was still firmly shut.

  One more go. This time she managed to make it a bullseye. Finally, she’d shattered the wood around the lock.

  She put her shoulder to the door. Protesting like mad, the wood around the lock splintered and gave way. What a mess! But she was in.

  She shoved the broken door back on itself and hauled herself up the stairs. How long would Hetty be gone? How much time did she have?

  On the landing at the top, she stood under the skylight. It had begun to rain, softly. The sky was grey. There were lots of shadows around.

  Something touched her ankle, and she jumped a mile.

  It was only Midge, the cat, who liked to be able to patrol every single room in the house, and who had been annoyed at being refused entry up here, until now.

  Where to start? Ellie blinked. And lost her balance. She put out a hand to steady herself and went into the sitting room, which was in good order. Everything was clean and tidy.

  The three-piece suite in its sunny apricot and white slip covers looked pristine though it had been moved to a different position in the room. Otherwise all was as it had been.

  Midge tried out one of the chairs, turned round and round and settled in for a nap.

  Ellie ran a finger across the occasional table to check for dust. There was none. And none on the television.

  Ellie looked carefully around. Hetty had brought in only a few personal touches: a silver photograph frame showing a snap of three teenagers of whom the middle one must be Hetty; a christening mug with Hetty’s initials on it; a toy horse which looked Central European … Brought back from a holiday, perhaps?

  Ellie opened cupboards, checked the bookshelf, looked under the cushions on the settee and behind chairs. The Radio Times had been turned to today’s programmes. There were a couple of DVDs nearby, borrowed from the public library. No library books. No daily papers.

  Ellie moved on to the main bedroom. Hetty had few clothes, probably bought from charity shops. All were of reasonable quality and in good nick. Underwear was from Marks & Spencer’s, shoes from Clarks. There were a few, very few, toiletries, all from Boots. On the bedside table was a small radio-cum-alarm, a box of tissues and a copy of that old time favourite, the People’s Friend, whose readership was Middle England.

  The second bedroom looked as if it had never been used. A squidgy cushion without a cover was on the bed. Presumably something had been spilled on the outer cover and that was now in the wash.

  There was nothing on top of the wardrobes in either room, and nothing at the back of drawers. Ellie almost lost her balance again and put out a hand to steady herself. Whatever was the matter with her? Was she going down with something?

  The bathroom was clean and sweet smelling.

  Al
ong the corridor was the store cupboard containing the usual cleaning materials, the Hoover, mop and pan, dusters etc. Plus one large and one small suitcase on wheels. They were unlocked and empty. Ellie hauled them out and felt around in all the corners. Nothing.

  Hetty had looked after her rooms well.

  Which left the kitchen. Not much cooking had been done here. A small collection of plates, mugs and a glass tumbler had been left to dry on the draining board, together with the odd knife, fork and spoon. The small dishwasher did not appear to have been used at all. The cupboards contained nothing which should not be there; staple foods only. The fridge contained some sliced bread, margarine, milk, cheese and a packet of ham. There were some onions and potatoes in a vegetable stand at the side. There was nothing which ought not to be there.

  Ellie went back to the landing, and looked through the open doors into each room in turn. What had she missed?

  Nothing.

  But there must be something! She couldn’t have been that wrong about Hetty, could she? Was the woman really nothing more than she claimed to be? Had she put the lock on the door out of an exaggerated sense of privacy and not because she had something to hide? If so, then Ellie had damaged the door for nothing.

  Ellie looked at her watch. How long was Hetty going to be? Was Ellie wasting her time up here when there was so much else that she had planned to do that day? She shook her head to clear it.

  There was only one item out of place. Just one. What about the cushion on the spare bedroom bed, the one which had no slip cover on it?

  There were still two cushions on the settee, so why was there a spare sitting on the bed in the second bedroom, without an outer cover?

  The three-piece suite had been bought for the flat within the last couple of years, which meant it was subject to flame retardant policies. The cushions were filled with non-flammable material, a spongy material which imitated the old-fashioned and now very expensive rubber shapes of old.

  So, if there was a cushion without a cover in the spare bedroom, then what was inside the cover of one of the cushions in the sitting room?