Murder By Committee Page 17

  And poor Roy. He really isn't fit to be let out alone. Though, to give him his credit, he is a good architect. I do hope he's taken the whole sorry mess to his mother.

  I wonder if she will do something about the vicarage. Poor Aunt Drusilla, her hip. How can I get her to see a specialist? Rose is so worried about her, and so am I, dear Lord. Please, Lord, remember Aunt Drusilla tonight, perhaps unable to get to sleep, uncomfortable even in her big bed.

  And Mrs Dawes. That leg of hers …

  Ellie had a quick shower and, after checking that Felicity's light was out, got into bed and turned out her own light. Midge snuggled into her back, purring. He seemed to have recovered from the fright Marco had given him. How on earth had he managed to get so far up that tree so quickly?

  Dear Lord, take care of me now I lie down to sleep … something about guardian angels round me keep … these childhood rhymes … the Grand Old Duke of York … little Frank … must do some tidying up in the garden … baby Catriona, so sweet … I am so fortune in my friends, Lord … thank you, thank you …

  ‘What! What did you say?’ Sir Arthur was not taking the news well, especially as this unexpected visitor was interrupting his late-night supper with Diana.

  His PA, Martinez, hooded his eyes. He was a long streak of a man with a narrow head. His skin was pale, as if he rarely exposed himself to sunlight. He didn't bother to repeat his words. He knew his employer well. Sir Arthur might bluster and shout, but there was a shrewd brain behind all that unnecessary noise.

  Diana had enough sense to keep quiet, knowing enough about business men to realize there was no point complaining when a crisis blew up. And this was evidently a crisis, since Martinez had taken the trouble to come out from London to give his boss the bad news.

  Sir Arthur blundered off into his study, letting the door bang to behind him. Martinez gave Diana a sleek, poisonous glance, and followed.

  Anita, the faded blonde housekeeper, watched from the shadows. She didn't seem displeased that Sir Arthur's time with Diana had been interrupted.

  Anita topped up Diana's cup of coffee. ‘He won't be requiring you again tonight. Do you want to be on your way back to London now? You'd be in before midnight.’

  Sir Arthur was speaking on the phone next door. No. Shouting into it.

  Diana shrugged. You win some, you lose some. And she was on the winning side this time. ‘I don't like driving this late at night. I'll be off first thing in the morning.’

  Anita began to pile the dirty plates from supper on to a tray. ‘Likely he'll work all night, now. I just hope he doesn't forget to collect his new dog tomorrow.’

  Diana leaned back in her chair. She'd no intention of letting the housekeeper hustle her away. Not after all that had happened that day. She smiled.

  All things come to those who wait … and are prepared to give fate a gentle push now and then. Great-Aunt Drusilla would have to eat crow. And so would her mother. She was looking forward to seeing her mother's face when she told her.

  Fourteen

  A good night's sleep is a blessing. Ellie woke at her usual time, stretched, opened one eye to check on the time. Just before the seven o'clock news. Good. She switched on the wireless, remembering to keep the sound low in case it wakened her guest.

  Midge had been sitting on the windowsill, between the curtains and the glass. He stirred when she did, elongating himself to double his usual length, yawning with gaping pink jaws.

  Sunday. That meant church and - of course! - doing the coffee. Nothing must stand in the way of her doing the coffee, or Jean would go bananas. Ellie must also visit Mrs Dawes. Before or after church? Probably it would be best after church, because she hadn't any sherry in the house to take to her old friend. Or much food, either.

  How long was Felicity going to stay?

  Ellie shrugged. Did it matter?

  Yes, it did. Kate - always so clear-thinking - had said all along that the key to this whole mess was the killing of the dog. That was why she'd called Ellie in. Chris Talbot had had other ideas, of course He'd wanted Ellie to befriend Felicity and possibly to wean her away from her husband.

  Everyone had their own agenda.

  Roy wanted Sir Arthur off his back.

  Sir Arthur wanted Roy to divvy up some money. Sir Arthur wanted to prove Chris Talbot had poisoned his dog. Sir Arthur wanted his own way in all things and wasn't too worried how he got results. Sir Arthur was a thoroughly nasty piece of work and no one would have shed a tear if he had fallen victim to the poisoned pizza. Ellie was normally the most charitable of persons, but in this case she felt - sincerely - that it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble if he had.

  Not, of course, that one was supposed to think that way. Though one did.

  Ellie sighed, half listened to the news, properly listened to the weather forecast - more wind, more showers - some of which might be heavy - and got washed and dressed. Nothing too fancy, because she'd be doing the coffee at church. One of her ivory blouses with a pretty neckline, over a dark blue skirt. With a navy blue gilet on top, in case the weather did turn nasty.

  There was no sign of Felicity as Ellie made her way down the stairs, accompanied by Midge, who knew when breakfast was due. She fed Midge, checked the fridge and freezer. Oh dear. She'd hardly anything suitable to give a guest for breakfast. A stale heel of a loaf, only one egg, a dried-up bit of bacon that ought to have been thrown away a few days ago. No fresh orange juice, or ground coffee.

  She glanced at the clock. If she hurried, she could whiz over to the supermarket, stock up on basics and be back before Felicity got out of bed.

  She left her guest a note on the kitchen table, snatched up her purse and jacket, and let herself quietly out of the house.

  The sky looked unpromising. She hadn't brought an umbrella. She must hurry, or she'd be caught in the rain. Luckily it wasn't far to the shopping parade. The supermarket was at the far end, of course. Nearly opposite Bill Weatherspoon's office. Bill was a solicitor and a family friend, who liked to invite Ellie out now and then. If Roy didn't take his mother into his confidence, Ellie would have to see that he consulted Bill. Soon.

  There were plenty of people in the supermarket, which was always a surprise this early in the morning, and on a Sunday too. Eggs, milk, bread, bacon, orange juice, ground coffee … some chops for lunch … the broccoli didn't look too fresh, but there were some decent French beans. Potatoes? No, she'd enough at home. Mushrooms. Fruit. Newspaper. What else?

  She dithered at the checkout and then remembered. Sherry for Mrs Dawes. Apologizing to the customer in the queue after her, she went back for some sherry, and nearly bumped into someone she thought she recognized, but couldn't for the life of her remember the name. Only when she was back at the checkout and paying for her purchases did she remember who it was. She turned round to apologize to Mrs Alexis for not having greeted her, but there was no sign of the woman. Oh. Just one of those missed opportunities.

  A thought to make her giggle: was Mrs Alexis buying frozen pizza? It had rather looked like it. To poison someone with? No, no. Ellie slapped her wrist mentally. Ridiculous!

  Laden with two shopping bags plus her basket, she considered calling a minicab to get her back home. She could walk it, but the bags were heavy, and she'd wear herself out. She'd call a minicab. No mobile. Where had she left it? Upstairs in her bedroom?

  Bother. She used the phone box at the supermarket, and soon was being driven home again, worrying about where she'd left her mobile. She thought she'd taken it out of her pocket when she undressed last night, but if so, where had she put it?

  Home again. Everything looked nice and peaceful … except for a sleek car parked on the opposite side of the road. Diana's.

  Diana would have let herself into the house, of course. Would she have encountered Felicity, and if so, what would have happened? Had they ever met? Possibly not.

  Ellie let herself into her house. ‘Yoohoo! I'm back. Breakfast in ten minutes.’

&nb
sp; Diana appeared in the doorway to the living room.

  ‘What a lovely surprise!’ said Ellie. Though it wasn't. Something told Ellie that this visit of Diana's was not going to be all sweetness and light. Diana was looking too smug for that.

  ‘Who's your lady friend?’ asked Diana, not moving to help her mother heave the shopping on to the kitchen table. ‘I saw someone scuttle into the bathroom, but when I called out, she yelped and slammed the door on me. Anyone I know?’

  ‘Probably not, dear. Lady Kingsley. Felicity. Her husband's away in the country, she was lonely and somehow she ended up in the spare room.’

  Something had changed in the atmosphere of the room, though Ellie couldn't quite put her finger on it. Had Diana reacted to Felicity's name? Yes? But her face was deadpan.

  ‘Ah. Ground coffee. I'll make it, shall I?’ Diana could make excellent coffee, when she felt inclined. ‘I dropped by to pick up Frank. Since you sent me an SOS about him, I assumed he must be here, but his room's empty.’

  ‘Frank was very upset when you didn't collect him yesterday. He behaved so badly that Stewart and Maria asked me to look after him for the rest of the day. Which I did. Then Stewart collected him again in the evening. This chopping and changing is bad for him, and he acts out.’

  ‘Poor little mite. I'll make it up to him next weekend. Take him to Disney in Paris, or something.’

  ‘It isn't treats that he wants, it's consistent parenting.’

  ‘Are you criticizing me, mother? You, of all people!’

  Ellie felt herself go pink. ‘I did my best. You know very well that I had to work to help with the mortgage. I worked short hours so that I could always be at the school gates to collect you.’ Ellie drew in her breath. Diana had been a demanding and difficult child, but she could hardly say that. Or could she? No, probably not.

  She said, ‘This sort of slanging match gets us nowhere. It's little Frank we're talking about now, not you.’

  Diana spooned coffee into the cafetière, while Ellie laid the table for three. Fresh orange juice. Get the frying pan out. Eggs, bacon and mushrooms ready for an omelette or a fry-up, whichever was required. Bread sliced for toast. No cereal. She'd forgotten to get any. Well, tough.

  ‘It's because of Frank that I've been working so hard,’ said Diana. ‘You of all people should understand that I sometimes have to sacrifice the amount of time I spend with him, to make sure he gets a decent standard of living.’

  Ellie eyed her daughter with apprehension. The girl was positively glowing with inner amusement. What had she been up to now?

  Diana poured on boiling water from the kettle, and settled the lid on the cafetière. Smiling. Not nicely. ‘I'm a very lucky girl. I found someone who wants something I possess, and he's prepared to pay me handsomely for it.’

  Ellie thought, Your body? No, you give that away. You don't sell it, judging by recent history.

  Diana depressed the plunger. ‘Under my father's will, you get to live in this house for life. After your death, the house becomes mine.’

  ‘Not quite,’ said Ellie, unsure where this was leading. ‘The house was in joint ownership; mine and your father's, so he couldn't dispose of my half. I have the house for life, and on my death, you get the half which he owned outright. I can leave my half to whoever I like. I might leave it to the Cats Protection League. Or Children in Need. Or Oxfam.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Diana. ‘You'll leave your half to me, which means that after your death, I'll own the whole house. I've just sold my interest in it to a developer, which will give me enough cash to live on till I've got rid of the rest of the flats I've been renovating.’

  Ellie sat down with a bump. She stared at the boiler, not seeing it. Diana had sold the house over her mother's head? Well, not precisely over her head, but looking forward to the day when her mother would be dead? And taking not a blind bit of notice of the fact that she might not inherit all of it? It was … gruesome. Hurtful.

  It tipped up the balance of what Ellie had always considered to be stable in her life.

  Of course she oughtn't to be worried about what might happen to her house after she died. She knew in her head that other people would live there afterwards. They probably wouldn't like the way she'd decorated the house. They might neglect the garden, her lovely garden.

  She closed her eyes. Clenched her fists.

  She told herself she was being unreasonable, but it hurt to think of her house and garden being torn apart by someone who didn't give a damn about what a happy home it had been for so many years.

  Something else was worrying her. ‘A developer, you said?’

  ‘Yes, he's long wanted to get hold of a couple of houses in this road, tear them down, build flats. The outlook on to the church should be worth a few bob.’

  ‘Two houses? You mean, he's after Kate and Armand's as well? But they won't want to move.’

  Diana shrugged. ‘He's a pretty determined customer. I expect he'll make them a fair offer at first, and if they don't play ball, then … well, as I said, he's a determined customer.’

  Ellie gazed at the opposite wall. Frank had put up those wall units. He hadn't done it very well, and they'd always meant to have the kitchen refitted, some time. The kitchen wasn't very up to date. Anybody buying this house would want the kitchen replaced.

  But it wasn't going to be replaced. It was going to be torn down. The garden wiped out. Her pretty conservatory … gone. Her goldfish in their lead tank. Midge!

  Midge had gone out through the cat flap as soon as he heard Diana come in. Midge and Diana had never got on. Midge might live to be twenty. Might even outlive her.

  Ellie grabbed at something, some hint, in Diana's announcement which could do with elucidation. ‘This man. This developer. Who …?’

  Diana poured herself out a cup of coffee, black. ‘Sir Arthur Kingsley, of course.’

  Felicity appeared in the doorway, looking wan. ‘You're talking about my husband?’

  ‘Are you Felicity? I've heard a lot about you.’ Diana looked Felicity up and down and laughed.

  Ellie was shocked. Felicity recoiled. Both women understood in that moment that Diana was the latest woman in Sir Arthur's life. Diana and Sir Arthur? That would be a powerful combination, indeed.

  Ellie couldn't think of anything to say which would be helpful. She'd been schooled to ignore her own problems and to look after guests, so now she did her best to appear normal. ‘Felicity, this is my daughter, Diana, who's dropped in unexpectedly. What would you like for breakfast?’

  ‘Just tea, thank you.’ In a whisper.

  Really, thought Ellie, the girl might make an effort. Ellie could understand how Felicity's whipped-dog attitude might encourage a bully to put the boot in. She herself wouldn't mind shaking the girl, who looked washed-out and drab in her unbecoming black garb, as compared to Diana, who was all sleek grooming and expensive clothes.

  ‘Well, I'm having the lot,’ said Ellie, determinedly breaking eggs into her pan. ‘An omelette, toast, everything.’

  ‘Don't overdo it, mother,’ said Diana, draining her cup. ‘That skirt of yours is tight enough as it is.’

  Ellie considered hurling the contents of the pan at Diana's face but resisted, though her breath came fast, and her wrists shook with the effort she made not to raise the pan from the stove. ‘Get out of here, Diana, before I lose my temper. I want a sight of whatever agreement you've made with that man. I wouldn't put it past you to falsify your expectations, and if he found out that you'd double-crossed him, well …’

  Diana laughed again, but this time there was a note of unease in her laughter. ‘You wouldn't do that, mother dear. I know you. You'd never be so unkind to your darling daughter. Well, I must be on my way. Arthur's got some emergency meetings up in the City first, and when he's dealt with them, he's collecting me from the flat. Nice meeting you, Felicity. He told me what you were like, and I didn't believe him. Silly me.’

  Felicity reddened. She was not up to fig
hting back. Perhaps wisely.

  Diana picked up her expensive black leather handbag, checked that her lipstick was not smudged, and twitched a red and grey scarf into place around her neck. ‘See you later, mother. Kiss, kiss.’

  She left the house, leaving Ellie staring at the wall and not seeing it. Leaving Felicity staring at the table, and not seeing that either.

  ‘Gracious me,’ said Ellie, rescuing her overcooked eggs. ‘I need some solid sustenance for the day ahead. How about you, Felicity? Did you say you wanted tea?’

  Felicity burst into tears. Ellie told herself she didn't give a toss, and tipped her omelette out on to her plate. She put the plate on the table, poured herself out a coffee, added milk and sugar, and then abandoned both to put an arm around the weeping girl.

  ‘There, there. It's nothing new, is it? I mean, he's had women before, hasn't he? I don't suppose Diana will be the last.’

  ‘You don't understand. He was so pleased with me for warning him about the meetings that were going on behind his back that he was going to bring me back some flowers tonight, and he's picking up a new dog tomorrow. He knew that would please me. I went to bed feeling so happy for a change.’

  Ellie forked some omelette into her mouth, dropped her fork to pour herself some coffee. She patted Felicity on her back. Wondered where her box of tissues had gone.

  ‘I got used to his playing around with Anita down at the manor, but she's quite old, and he said he'd never divorce me for her. There were other “pretty little chicks” - that's what he used to call them - but they were all terribly young with not much in the way of brains, and quite useless about the house, so he always went back to Anita because she kept the manor looking so nice. But Diana …!’

  Yes, Ellie could see that Diana was different. Diana didn't give a toss about keeping a house clean. She was an ambitious career woman, handsome rather than beautiful, but fashionably dressed and accustomed to move in society of a certain type. Her morals were dodgy, she had an iron will, and hardly any conscience.