Murder by Mistake (16 page)

‘Now don’t you be looking out of the window,’ said Rose, taking the insulated bag of goodies off Ellie. ‘We’re only serving tea and coffee on the half hour in future, and we’ve run completely out of biscuits, so Mia is making some more as we speak.’

‘Midge?’

‘Hiding under my bed. He thought the visitors would like him hanging around, until he came across one who didn’t. He’s all right, though. It’s only his pride that’s hurt, bless him.’

‘Thomas?’

‘He says if he’s wanted, I’m to knock three times on his door and he’ll let me in. Pat came in just now to say she can’t stand the noise and is going to deliver some notes to the neighbours, whatever that may mean.’

‘Oh, good. In that case, I’ll just make one phone call and get out of here.’ She evaded Mr Balls in the hall, sending him a smile but not allowing him time to talk to her . . . and reached the sanctuary of her office in safety. Her chair had been smothered by a huge pile of fabric – were those the dining room curtains? Don’t ask.

She dialled the police station and asked for DC Milburn. Out. Away. Gone for a walk. Unavailable, anyway.

However, the policewoman had left a message for her. ‘All suspects still in jail, duly accounted for. Mrs Prior has been informed that she must leave this part of Ealing, and has now removed herself.’ End of message.

Fine. As if Ellie didn’t know that already. Oh well.

Someone in the garden outside dropped a clanger. More voices were raised. Ellie put her hands over her ears and hoped the lawn would survive. She told herself she was only in the way at home and might as well make herself useful elsewhere.

So she looked up Dan Collins’ address and went to see what Ursula’s ex-fiancé might have to say about Mia’s current problems.

The house looked much as Ellie remembered it: a large Edwardian structure, running downhill. But this time – surprise! – a middle-aged to elderly man was sweeping the front path. His hair was scanty, but had been ginger at one time. He wore a tatty old shirt and even tattier trousers. The sort of garb a householder might wear when doing odd jobs around the house or when working on an allotment.

Ellie smiled at him as she passed.

He said, ‘Afternoon,’ and smiled back.

‘Mrs Collins at home?’

‘Dottie? Yes, she’s in the back somewhere.’

So he called Mrs Collins by her first name? Interesting. Ellie rang the doorbell, peering into the front window to see if she could spot Dan, whose room that used to be, but the curtains were drawn across.

Mrs Collins – ‘Dottie’ – opened the front door. She was no spring chicken, but wasn’t giving up without a struggle. She’d had a perm recently, and her fair hair had been tinted pink to match a strapless cotton top and tightly-fitting skirt. When she saw who was standing there, Mrs Collins did not look pleased. ‘What do you want? More trouble for Dan?’

‘May I come in for a moment? Something’s come up, and I wondered if Daniel might be able to cast light on it.’

The odd job man appeared at Ellie’s elbow. ‘Is there a problem, Dottie?’

‘It’s all right, Ginge.’ Short for ‘Ginger’? ‘This lady’s an old friend, sort of. Come in, Mrs Quicke. Mind the paint pot. Ginge is helping me out with a spot of this and that.’ And probably with ‘how’s your father’, too. Mrs Collins had the sleek look of someone who’d acquired a new partner late in life.

Ellie followed Mrs Collins down the corridor and into the sun lounge at the back. It was reasonably tidy now, with his and hers La-Z-Boy chairs facing the television, and the big table pushed well back. It seemed that Ginge was making himself very much at home.

‘I had a spot of trouble letting my rooms after what happened in the spring, what with my boys being mixed up in it because they were friends of the Priors. It’s turned out quite well in the end, but I had to alter my rule about only having students.’

‘Ginge is one of your lodgers now?’

‘Cuppa? A bit early for anything else, or is it?’

‘Cuppa would do me fine. Is Dan around?’

‘Got a new girlfriend, down the club. Nobody wanted anything to do with a building that Mr Prior had named after himself, so they changed the name to The Place from Prior Place, and the flats are selling, slowly, but moving at long last. As for the Health Club, they made Dan manager and call it Collins Health Club. He’s down there from first thing till last. Making it pay, too. That’s what sticking by your friends can do for you.’

‘Even if they’re in prison?’

A shrug. ‘The building was up and empty, so why not get it moving, employ your friends, make some money?’

‘It’s what Dan always wanted, isn’t it? A job in the Health Club?’

‘Being made manager, though, that was tricky at first. He’s not the brightest at the books, but then the Priors brought in this blonde. She’s a sharp blade, I must say, and they work together a treat. He moved into her place, one of those new flats up by the Green, last month. I miss him in a way, of course, but now Ginge’s got his room, so it’s an ill wind, isn’t it?’

‘I’m glad to hear everything’s worked out well for him,’ said Ellie. ‘I know he was upset when Ursula broke off their engagement but we were agreed, weren’t we, that it was a case of their having got together too young for it to last?’

That wasn’t quite what they’d agreed, but it was the right thing to say. Mrs Collins, unasked, brought a plastic box of wine from the kitchen and poured out a couple of glasses. ‘That Ursula, she’s a nice girl. She came round a couple of weeks ago to tell me she was getting married to someone else. Asked if I thought Dan would like an invitation to the wedding. I said he was well over her now, so she agreed to let bygones be bygones. Besides which, his new partner wouldn’t have like it, and she’s a terror when roused, she is.’

It sounded as if Dan had exchanged one strong-minded female for another. Ellie sipped wine and said, ‘Mm,’ which was all that was required of her.

Mrs Collins took several sips and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. ‘I’d have been glad to give Ursula a wedding present, but things being as they are, and after talking it over with Ginge, I decided it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. But I wish her luck, with all my heart.’

‘She’s a good girl.’

‘Not right for Dan, though. This new partner of his . . . Well –’ a frown – ‘she’s older than him. Been around the block a couple of times, I wouldn’t wonder. Not exactly love’s young dream.’

‘I wonder where the Priors found her?’

‘Some smart lawyer-type produced her. Everything goes through him, nowadays.’

Ellie set down her glass. ‘Which reminds me; I know Dan never looked at anyone but Ursula in the old days, but I wondered if he could think of someone who was interested in Mia Prior before . . . before everything went wrong. Someone who might now wish her harm?’

‘That poor girl. Rotten what they did to her. That is, if it’s true, and we can’t say it was or it wasn’t yet, can we? Not till it comes to trial. Though why they have to lock them all up just on her say so, I really don’t know, when it might have been only a spot of rough housing going too far, if you see what I mean. Too much slap and tickle, and her taking it the wrong way.’

Ellie suppressed a shudder. She’d seen Mia’s injuries, and they’d gone well beyond ‘slap and tickle’. ‘Mia’s recovering slowly, but someone keeps sending her messages saying they want her dead, which is giving her the heebie-jeebies.’

‘Serve her right, if she made it all up. Getting that fine family, that never harmed nobody, into trouble. Anyway, they can’t do nothing from where they are at present, can they?’

Ellie set her teeth. ‘Her injuries were very real, Mrs Collins, and it is possible that some friend of theirs might be trying to intimidate the girl, trying to frighten her enough to withdraw her testimony. I wanted to ask Dan if he can think of anyone who might be lurking in the background, someone willing to help the Priors out.’

Mrs Collins poured herself another drink. ‘All the Prior’s fine friends disappeared overnight, didn’t they? That’s why they had to change the name of the building and of the Health Club. Mud sticks.’

‘Dan stuck to them.’

‘You’re not suggesting that he would—’

‘No, I don’t think he would.’

‘No, he wouldn’t.’

Were they both trying to convince themselves? No, Ellie thought not. Dan simply wasn’t the type to think up such things. What about his new partner, though? Mm, if she were employed by the Priors, she might be acting for them in more than one capacity. Except that the girl in the flower shop had specified an untidy young man, not a woman. On another tack . . .

‘Did you ever meet one of Mia’s boyfriends in the old days?’

‘She didn’t really have one. She liked the boy who went over the balcony and got himself killed, but he only had eyes for Ursula, who didn’t encourage him, I’ll say that for her. She didn’t look at anyone but Dan in those days.’

‘Dan might know of someone? It’s really important, Mrs Collins. We think someone from Mia’s past is still around and anxious to see her dead. I realize it’s a long shot, but would it be possible for me to speak to Dan about it some time?’

‘I suppose.’ Another shrug. Mrs Collins emptied her glass. ‘He usually drops in with his dirty washing after the weekend. Says the new girl won’t do it, so I have to. They never really grow up, do they? I’ll ask him to phone you, shall I?’ She got to her feet. ‘Well, I must be getting on. Ginge likes a spot of tea, something with chips. I tell him he’ll have me putting on weight, and he says he likes to have something to get his hands on, if you see what I mean.’ She giggled.

‘Of course. And thanks.’

So that was that. Ellie called in at the bank, and she was on her way home when she clapped her hand to her forehead.

You silly fool. Missing what’s under your nose. Ursula would know who might be targeting Mia. She’s intelligent and observant; she’ll be able to give us some idea who to look for. She’s been in and out of the house all the time, seeing to Mia, and I’ve never once thought of telling her what’s been going on.

All right, all right, I know she’s busy with the preparations for the wedding . . . though come to think of it, I ought to be putting her in the picture on what’s going to happen with the Party Planner.

I don’t want to alarm Mia unduly. I wonder if I can ring Ursula on her mobile, arrange to meet her somewhere outside the house?

Ellie picked up her pace, looking at her watch. She’d reached the Green around the church by now. Should she take time to run over to the police station to see if DI Willis was back from leave? And what – if anything – DC Milburn might be doing? Had the police picked up the Sympathy Card and wreath? No, the wreath had been put out with the rubbish, hadn’t it?

Ellie told herself she shouldn’t waste valuable police time by reminding them of things which they already had in hand. No, of course not. And that was nothing to do with the fact that DI Willis intimidated her. She sat down on one of the benches by the church and got out her mobile. She rather thought Ursula’s number was somewhere in its interior workings, but how did you discover . . .? Ah, got it. She was pleased with herself. Now, how did you make the call? Ah, splendid. Except that her call went to voicemail, and Ellie hadn’t worked out precisely what she wanted to say.

‘Ursula? This is Ellie Quicke here. I need to talk to you about the wedding, and about Mia. Perhaps away from the house? I know you must be terribly busy, but . . . could you ring me?’

She switched the phone off. Then remembered that Mr Balls wanted her to leave it on all the time . . . and of course Ursula might get back to her soon. She switched it back on. She sat back, trying to relax. The sun was warm on her face, the grass at her feet well mown, the stonework of the Victorian church glowing. Someone’s phone trilled. With a start, Ellie realized it was hers. ‘Hello?’

‘Mrs Quicke? Ursula here. You wanted an update? Mia’s fine, I think. Coming along nicely. Thomas has let her use his computer to check her bank account, and it seems the Priors haven’t stopped her allowance and it’s been piling up all these months. She didn’t want to take it at first, but we talked some sense into her, and she realizes she’ll have to use it to pay some bills – you’ve been getting some bits and pieces for her, haven’t you? – and keep her afloat till she decides what she wants to do with herself.’ Ursula’s voice was like herself, alto-sax. Wasting no words.

‘That’s fine,’ said Ellie, ‘but look, I need to talk to you away from the house. I’m near the Avenue. Could you spare time to join me for a bite to eat? My treat.’

‘My father and his family fly in from America today, and I have to meet them at Heathrow Airport this afternoon, but I know you wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. It is important, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. The Sunflower Café, half an hour?’

Ursula was on time. A tall, strongly-built girl with long honey-coloured hair. Not an anorexic Hollywood chicklet, but someone who could blaze into beauty. Today she wore a skimpy flowered top over a black vest and leggings, and looked a million dollars. Her hair had been tied back in a knot, but it wasn’t coming apart like most people’s did. In fact, Ellie concluded that part of Ursula’s ‘presence’ was her grooming. She looked older than she really was. She looked as if she could hold her own in any company.

She was wearing a stunning engagement ring, a sapphire surrounded by diamonds. Probably old. Something his family had cherished for generations?

Ellie handed over the menu and said to the waitress, ‘I’m having sausages and mash. I need carbohydrates.’ And to Ursula, ‘You look as if you’ve had some good news?’

Ursula said, ‘A ham salad for me.’ And to Ellie, laughing, ‘Does it show? Congratulate me; I’ve just landed a wonderful job, helping to choose the jewellery and accessories for a big fashion firm. I’m floating on air.’