Murder of Innocence Page 18

  ‘What the …!’ He touched the paint with his finger. ‘Dry. It must have been done after we left.’

  She switched on the lights in the hall.

  ‘Gus? Gus, are you there? Are you all right?’

  No answer. A sort of listening silence. Only, it was the house that was listening and not a scrawny little wino.

  Roy picked up the phone – the answerphone light was still winking. ‘I’ll ring the police.’

  Ellie felt a bit swimmy. Told herself she was not going to faint. She went into the living room and turned on the lights. Checked.

  Frank’s silver christening cup was gone and the little silver vase that she used for single blooms. And the video, though not the television. Diana’s mobile phone was missing, but the china in the glass cabinet was still there.

  Nothing had been touched in the study.

  While Roy was getting through to the police station, she went up the stairs and switched on more lights.

  Gus had gone, of course. His bed was unmade. All his clothes and belongings had disappeared, along with – she checked the top of the wardrobe – Frank’s best suitcase, the one with the wheels and the handle which pulled out. It had always been too heavy for her to use. The room still stank of cigarettes.

  With the calm of foreknowledge, she went into her own bedroom. The pretty mosaic-covered box which contained her bits and pieces of jewellery had gone.

  She’d gambled that he’d stay honest if she treated him well and she’d lost. Everyone would say what a fool she’d been. But what else could she have done?

  She called downstairs to Roy. ‘Tell the police he’s taken the video, a large suitcase, Diana’s mobile phone, my silver cup and vase, and some of my jewellery.’

  ‘What? What!’ Roy dropped the phone on to its hook.‘You mean, you’ve been burgled?’

  ‘No, not burgled. I invited him in, remember. Theft, I suppose they’ll call it. Personally, I’d say the poor little rabbit was frightened out of his wits by the brick and the message on the door, took what he could lay his hands on to exchange for cash, and ran.’

  Roy swelled with anger. ‘When I catch him, I’ll …’ He turned back to the phone and relayed the message. Ellie went into the kitchen and looked around. Everything was as she’d left it. Dirty cups and mugs in the sink. No sign of Gus having had supper there. He must have taken the money Roy had given him for supper, lifted the items he could sell with ease, and gone. Thank God she’d had the sense to take her parents’ clock in for repair.

  ‘You really can’t blame him,’ said Ellie. She put the kettle on for a cup of tea.

  Roy came off the phone, fuming. ‘They’ll be round when they can, they say.’

  ‘Could be a lot worse,’ said Ellie. ‘I’ve been keeping my pearls and my mother’s diamond ring in my handbag ever since he came, and wearing my good rings and watch. The rest of my jewellery was pretty, but mostly costume quality. The video is easily replaced. I never really liked Frank’s christening mug, anyway. An ugly shape. I’m sorry about the vase, though. It was pretty. And Diana will be furious about her mobile.’

  Roy gaped. ‘You mean, you guessed this might happen? You took precautions?’

  ‘Of course.’ She poured out some tea, offered him some. He didn’t seem to want it but she did. ‘I hoped it wouldn’t happen but I realized it might. I never let him have a key. If I bolt all the doors tonight, no one can get in. The news will be all round the neighbourhood in the morning and they’ll be calling in to commiserate with me while thinking it serves me right.’

  ‘I don’t understand you, Ellie. I really don’t.’

  She sighed. She knew he didn’t and she couldn’t possibly explain. Far too tired. She wished she could just go to bed and forget about everything. If someone did throw a brick through her bedroom window tonight, the curtains would catch most of the damage and she didn’t care, anyway. She needed to lie down and sleep.

  The police arrived. Not the detective sergeant, but two large men. Strangers.

  It took another hour to get rid of them, and Roy. Then she went around the house, checking locks and bolts.

  She was actually – somewhat to her surprise – pleased that Gus had gone, though it stung to think he’d taken so many of her precious things with him. Sentimental value, those bits and pieces of jewellery. Presents for anniversaries. Birthdays. Some bits of Victoriana. Some art nouveau. Some holiday bits and pieces bought abroad.

  She wished now that she’d locked the whole lot away somewhere safe. But no, she’d had to leave out just enough for him to imagine they were all she had. If he’d known about the pearls and the diamond ring, he’d have torn the place apart looking for them and done who knew what amount of damage. As it was, he’d been a neat thief. She mourned for her mother’s lapis lazuli beads, which were the wrong length for today’s fashions, but a beautiful blue.

  Midge leaped on to her bed, gave himself a lick and a promise, and fell asleep. So did she.

  The morning was all things bright and beautiful. She’d woken once or twice in the night but heard nothing to alarm her. No brick through the window.

  At seven Ellie wandered downstairs in her dressing gown accompanied by Midge, fed him, made herself a cuppa in her favourite china mug with the forget-me-nots on it and went to stand in the unfinished conservatory. With glass panes all around her and above her, she could imagine she was really standing in the garden itself.

  When it was finished, this would be her favourite room in the house. She would have a table and chair just there … with a lamp on a bracket on the wall behind her just there … and the water feature would provide a gentle burbling sound. Soothing.

  She would eat her meals here.

  Midge leaped on to the packs of floor tiles which had still to be fitted, and began a thorough wash. Hind leg up, investigate rear end. Hind leg stretched out in front, investigate between the paws. Scratch behind ear. Wash mask. Wash under chin. A ray of sun touched his back and he stretched his neck in ecstasy. Then got down to the serious business of finding the best place for a nap.

  Midge liked the conservatory, too.

  Midge had quite liked Gus, which had misled Ellie into thinking him trustworthy. She thought, But Gus was trustworthy, at first. Perhaps he would have gone on being trustworthy if the neighbourhood yobs hadn’t frightened him away.

  Oh well. She had to face it; she’d made a right mess of things.

  She looked down the garden, sparkling with overnight rain but greening over fast in the morning sun. The forsythia was a stunning, burning yellow, and the deeper yellow balls of the kerria were just beginning to show off their true colour. There were gleams of yellow, too, under the leafless lilac where celandines had spread themselves. One or two of the wallflowers were showing red. They looked bedraggled after all that rain, but their scent would be delicious if she cut some and brought them inside – though not to put in the missing silver vase. An early rose – it was really far too early for roses, but everything seemed to be early this spring – showed pink, climbing a post at the edge of the lawn.

  At the bottom of the garden, the shed door was still hanging open. She hoped last night’s rain hadn’t spoiled anything inside. She would investigate when she’d got her outdoor shoes on. And refill the bird feeder, which the tits had emptied again.

  She looked beyond the garden to the Church Green and the spire of the church rising up to the incredibly blue sky. Cloudless. Almost a dark blue.

  She wished that the church were open so that she could go in and talk to God, but there, it was a rare building that could be left unlocked nowadays.

  But I am always here, waiting for you to turn to me …

  She closed her eyes for a moment. Yes, it was true. He was always there, waiting for her to turn to him. He knew everything that had happened. How she’d tried to do what she thought was right, taking Gus in. He knew how she’d tried to help Tod. He knew how she’d failed. He knew her limits and he wasn’t going to scold her
for failing.

  She let herself rest on his strength. She laid bare to him all her feelings of inadequacy, all the mistakes she’d made, all the misery that had resulted. She offered up to him the times she’d lost her temper with Tod and Mrs Coppola. Her impatience with Gus. Her doubletalk with Diana. Her cowardice about refusing to move in with Aunt Drusilla. Her uncertainties about giving away her money to the church.

  She offered them up unreservedly. She felt his great love settle around her shoulders, calming her, bringing her peace of mind. She asked for strength and wisdom to deal with the problems in her life.

  No particular new ideas dropped into her head, but she felt as if she could now cope with the day.

  Someone knocked on the front door and rang the bell. Half past seven. What a time to call!

  It was Armand from next door with Kate behind him, both looking perturbed.

  Kate said, ‘I’ve got to fly, but … Ellie, have you seen …?’

  Armand was angry, but it had to be admitted he got angry very easily. ‘They ought to be strung up …!’

  The message on the door looked even uglier in daylight, but Armand was pointing to the low wall that divided her front garden from the road. ‘Someone’s spray-painted a message out there. Not the same person, I think. It’s in a different colour from that on the door. I could murder them!’

  ‘Your garden,’ wailed Kate. All the shrubs within the wall had been trampled down and broken. Ellie’s pride and joy – a lovely fragile magnolia stellata – had been ruined. The early daffodil bulbs, which had just begun to break into colour, had been smashed by heavy boots.

  Ellie let out a long breath, holding on to the peace of mind which she’d so recently been given. She would not let herself be disturbed. Kate, however, was almost in tears. ‘Look, we’ll go to the garden centre this weekend, shall we? And perhaps your builder can paint over …’

  ‘I haven’t got any meetings after school today,’ said Armand. ‘If you wait around for builders, in my experience you could be waiting for Godot. What say I get a pot of paint at Homebase and make a start on it this evening?’

  ‘Poor Gus must be terrified,’ said Kate, almost wringing her hands.

  ‘He’s gone,’ said Ellie.‘Last night.With some bits and pieces. I’m amazed you didn’t see the police here.’

  ‘We were out last night. What do you mean, “he’s gone”? Look, I’ll have to catch you later. I’m going to be late.’ She looked at her watch, shrieked, kissed Ellie and dashed out to her car.

  ‘I might not be able to match the paint exactly,’ said Armand.

  Ellie had never liked him so well. How absurd to have suspected him of harming Tod, even for a minute. ‘You’re a dear man. I don’t want to take up your time – I know how much marking and preparation you have to do. Give me a ring later on this morning. I’ll see if I can get my builder back to attend to it.’

  ‘Bastards!’ said Armand, getting into his own car. ‘Ought to be …’ The rest was lost as he drove off, crashing gears.

  Ellie thought, I’m shaken but not stirred. I’ll live. This too will pass.

  Another car drew up and Mrs Coppola got out, her pretty face set in spiteful lines. The driver was her friend from the night before. He was pointing at the graffiti and laughing. Mrs Coppola looked, too. And also laughed.

  She said to Ellie, ‘It’s no more than you deserve. I came to tell you that you’re not to have anything more to do with Tod. Last night a neighbour saw that paedophile taking in a pizza delivery as calm as you please. How you have the nerve to shelter him when you know what he’s done to poor Tod …’

  ‘He didn’t touch Tod.’

  Mrs Coppola laughed again, and rolled her eyes. ‘I pity you, I really do …’

  ‘No need. He’s gone.’

  The woman’s eyes narrowed, as she calculated what this might mean. Then she shrugged. ‘Whatever. Tod’s going back to school today, and my neighbour will see to him after school till I get back. I’ve told him, he’s not to go anywhere near you in future. Is that understood?’

  Ellie clenched her hands within the pockets of her gown. She nodded. She was so angry she was afraid she’d say something unforgivable. Interested faces were appearing at other front doors around her. A neighbour on his way to his car stopped to eavesdrop.

  Mrs Coppola made as if to get back in the car, but then remembered one last thing. ‘Oh yes, and Tod says you’re paying for him to go on the Internet. I’m holding you to that.’

  She ducked back into the car before Ellie could speak. Her friend drove off, spitting gravel and Ellie slowly went back into the house, closed the front door and set her back to it.

  She would not cry. No.

  Oh, Tod!

  She drew in a deep breath. Lord, have mercy on me … and on Tod … and on that – woman. One door opens as another one closes. Sometimes God closes one door before He opens another. That’s to make sure that you know which direction you ought to be going in. It can be very painful.

  Very.

  The doorbell rang and someone shouted, ‘Yoohoo!’ It was the centralheating engineer, Jimbo, with his mate. She opened the door to them.

  ‘What’s been going on here?’ asked Jimbo, cheerful as always. ‘Offended the local mafia, have we?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘If you’ve got a pot of paint to spare, I daresay we could fit in a quick dip and splash when we’ve finished today, OK?’

  ‘Bless you, Jimbo. I’d appreciate it.’

  ‘You’ve remembered to fill the kettle, have you? I’ve got to drain the tank in a minute.’

  No, she’d forgotten.

  Clattering and clanging, he and his mate went through to the conservatory to continue their work, while Ellie filled various receptacles with water and slowly went upstairs to wash, dress and get ready for what the rest of the day might hold.

  Jimbo had turned on his radio. Of course. Ellie remembered the peace and calm in the conservatory early that morning and the feeling that she was being upheld in God’s love. Only the tattered remnants of that peace remained.

  Oh, Tod.

  Coming downstairs to the workmen’s racket, she realized how much she’d come to relish her privacy. Solitude.

  Until Frank died, she’d hardly ever been alone in the house and it had been one of the worst things she’d had to bear in the aftermath of his death. But she’d become accustomed to it in the months since and now she wished, fiercely, to be alone and quiet again.

  Fat chance.

  Another lot of post had arrived. The blinking of the answerphone beckoned to her. She made herself a bowl of cereal and took it into the study to get up to date. She switched on the computer with a feeling that she could at least control one thing in her life … if it wasn’t in a mood, which sometimes it was. But no, the screen flashed up the usual information and she got down to answering some letters.

  Another ring on the doorbell. This time it was Detective Sergeant Willis, looking slightly unkempt as usual. Why didn’t the girl get a good haircut? Because it would do a lot for her grooming. She wore no rings, didn’t have the look of one who liked shopping for clothes. A pity. She could be stunning, if she took a little trouble. She was accompanied by a youngish man, also in plain clothes.

  ‘It seems you’ve made yourself unpopular.’

  ‘Indeed. I expect the insurance will pay for the brick through the window, but I don’t think they’re interested in graffiti. Are you looking for Tod? He’s gone to school, I believe.’

  ‘No, I was looking for Gus. This is PC Watts.’

  ‘He’s gone. Didn’t you know? You’d better come in.’ Ellie led the way to the living room.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. He got the message that the neighbourhood wanted him out. Two of them even came round to tell him to clear off. Tuesday night there was that brick through the window here – you can see how it tore the curtains. I went out last night with a friend to h
ave something to eat and a neighbour says she saw Gus taking delivery of a pizza. When we got back, he’d gone. With some of my bits and pieces and the video recorder.’

  ‘Damn.’ DS Willis turned to the PC. ‘Will you phone in and let them know?’ The man nodded and went out to the hall, closing the door behind him.

  The detective sergeant said, ‘We should have been told.’

  ‘I don’t suppose the police who came last night would know about Tod’s case. I suppose you’ll say I was stupid to take Gus in. I’m not trained to look after recovering alcoholics. I’m not even a very good landlady. But I was sorry for him. I still am. I’m angry, too, of course, but mainly, I’m sorry for him.’

  The policewoman sighed. ‘You weren’t to know, but late last night his alibi fell to pieces and there’s a warrant out for his arrest. I thought I could pick him up here nice and easy, but as he’s done a runner we’ll have to put out an all-points bulletin for him.’

  ‘His alibi fell through?’

  ‘Yes. You knew there were four of them, all winos, dossing down in that garage? When we brought them in, they swore they’d been together all the time and we couldn’t break them, so we had to let them go.

  ‘Then yesterday evening one of them – his name’s Mick – was caught shoplifting from an off-licence. He’s done it before, many times. He’s not very bright. Never learns about the video cameras trained on the shelves. Always thinks he can talk his way out of trouble. So he talked. He thought that if he dumped Gus in it, he might get off the shoplifting. Well, he won’t.’

  ‘How did he dump Gus in it?’

  The PC came quietly back into the room and sat down.

  ‘He said that late on Tuesday afternoon they ran out of hooch so they sent Gus off to buy some more. Mick says Gus was away for hours. So you see, Gus has no alibi for the time Tod was attacked.’

  Ellie blinked. ‘I don’t believe it. For instance, why would Mick lie and say they were all together in the first place, when they weren’t?’

  ‘Because the money they’d been using for their binge had come from a woman’s handbag that Mick and one of his mates had pinched that afternoon in the Broadway. They were sober enough at that point to realize they mustn’t attract attention by spending too much of the cash at one go. They bought a couple of bottles each and were just dumping the stolen handbag in the bushes by the church when—’