Murder In Law Page 2

  ‘Diana mentioned the police,’ said Susan, trying to think clearly. ‘And blood. It sounds as if something nasty has happened to Evan.’

  Rafael grinned. ‘I expect he had too much to drink and fell down the stairs. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person. Um. No. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.’

  But, while assembling food from the fridge, he continued to be amused by the thought of Evan coming to grief. Rafael might be young, but he was a shrewd businessman with a finger in many pies and knew more than most about what went on locally, especially if dodgy dealings were involved.

  Susan smiled and shook her head at him, knowing that his sharp words hid a soft heart.

  He whipped up eggs, made toast, poured out fruit juice for Jenny and made tea. ‘What’s the cuckoo child’s name? Ugh, she needs changing, doesn’t she? I’m not touching her in that state.’

  Recognizing her name, Jenny whined, ‘Where my Nanny?’ But she allowed Susan to change her in the downstairs toilet so that she could sit on Rafael’s knee to be fed.

  So they ate, surrounded by boxes.

  Susan concentrated on Fifi, who usually closed her long-lashed eyes while she fed but today fixed them, wide-open, first on her mother and then on Jenny. Fifi was not fooled. Something was Going On!

  Susan burped Fifi again, changed her nappy, replaced her dungarees and put her in her playpen in the big living room opposite so that she could have a good kick and a crawl around. She’d be fine so long as she had sight of one or other of her parents. There were toys and cloth books for her to play with, and she might even try pulling herself up to a standing position, though she hadn’t mastered the art of walking as yet.

  ‘What do we do with the cuckoo child?’ Rafael tried to stand Jenny on her own two feet … at which the child collapsed on to the floor, grizzling.

  Susan looked at her watch. Was that really the time? ‘Jenny must be tired. She can go in Fifi’s buggy for a nap. We ought to be fetching Evan from nursery at this very minute.’

  ‘We ought to be doing nothing of the kind. He’s not our concern. He has a nanny, doesn’t he?’

  To which Susan shrugged. He was right, of course. But.

  She tried to put Jenny into the buggy – and failed. Jenny stiffened and wept. However, Rafael’s authoritative manner cowed her into submission and he managed to strap her into the buggy and lower the hood to help the child to nod off.

  Meanwhile, Susan had been thinking what to do. She reached for the landline. ‘I wonder if Lesley knows what’s happened to Evan.’

  Susan’s aunt Lesley Millburn was a detective inspector in the local police force. Susan’s father had disappeared at her birth and, perhaps in consequence of this betrayal, the child’s relationship with her mother had always been a somewhat distant one. So it was her young aunt, Lesley, who had kept an eye on Susan as she grew up and encouraged her to take a cookery course when she left school.

  Lesley had been friends with Ellie and her retired minister husband, Thomas, for many a long year and had observed their struggles to keep the large house going by renting the attic flat out to a series of lodgers. It was Lesley who had introduced Susan to Ellie as a prospective lodger when the girl enrolled at college.

  Susan was still slightly in awe of an aunt who was doing so well in the police force, while guiltily aware that she herself had drawn a better card in the marriage stakes than Lesley. Rafael was a loving, practical and attentive husband, whereas Lesley’s seemed to think more of his batting average at cricket than of his wife.

  Susan dialled her aunt’s private mobile number while Rafael fed the dishwasher. Lesley’s phone went to voicemail. Susan left a message and wondered what to do next. ‘That poor little boy must be waiting to be collected from his nursery. He won’t understand what’s happening.’

  Rafael said, ‘I’ve got a couple of meetings later this afternoon, but in an emergency I can put them both off. Let me see if I can locate Deadly Di. The estate agency will have her mobile number and even if they won’t give us her number direct, they can get her to call us about fetching Little Evan.’

  ‘She may not be able to take the call if she’s at the hospital,’ said Susan. She glanced through the open door into the big room opposite, where Fifi was trying to put her foot into her mouth and not quite succeeding. Fifi was crooning to herself. She liked being in that big airy room. Fifi liked light and space.

  Susan left a second voicemail message on Lesley’s phone. ‘Lesley doesn’t like people calling her on her mobile at work, so she’ll know that if I call twice, it’s an emergency.’

  In fact, Lesley did pick up this time. Susan said, ‘Sorry to trouble you, but—’

  ‘It’s about Evan, right? Look, I’ll call you back.’ Lesley killed the call.

  ‘Oh.’ Susan pulled a face. ‘Lesley knew I was ringing about Evan. So it seems he really is in trouble.’

  Rafael nodded. He was on his own phone, trying to contact Diana’s office. Susan went to check that Jenny was asleep, which she was. Then she attacked the nearest carton which contained cooking pans and began to put them away in a low cupboard.

  Rafael was getting frustrated. ‘Her office number’s engaged. Don’t they have more than one line at the agency?’ He tried again, saying, ‘I wonder if it was Deadly Di herself who clocked Evan on the head? Not that I’d blame her, the way he carries on. Oh …’ He interrupted himself to speak into the phone. ‘My name is Rafael … yes, I’m a friend of Diana’s mother. I wonder if you can help me. Diana has asked my wife to look after her children this morning. There’s some emergency, I understand?’

  The phone quacked and clicked off.

  Rafael threw his smartphone down. ‘Diana’s told the office to hold her calls. She said she had to go to the hospital and would contact them later.’ He bent over the nearest half-unpacked box. ‘I like this new chopping board. Where do you want it?’

  Susan turned aside to reach for the box of tissues. Rafael put his arm around her.

  She blew her nose. ‘I’m thinking of poor little Evan, waiting to be picked up from his nursery, not knowing what has happened. At that age, it must be frightening. Jenny is old enough to know something is terribly wrong, too.’

  ‘So is Fifi.’ He held her close. ‘You are the most wonderful woman in the whole world. I think you care more for Diana’s children than she does. We’ll have another of our own someday, I promise.’

  ‘We-e-ll,’ said Susan … and the landline rang.

  It was Lesley. ‘Evan was assaulted at home in the early hours. He died an hour ago. We’ve invited Diana to come down to the station to make a statement. She’s beside herself, screeching she can’t leave the children, whom she says she’s dumped on you. Social Services have been contacted and will take them off your hands.’

  TWO

  Friday noon

  Lesley’s phone clicked off.

  Susan told Rafael, ‘Evan’s dead, Diana’s being questioned and Social Services are coming here to take the children. They must think Diana killed Evan!’

  Rafael said, ‘What! I know I made a joke about her doing that, but … No, she wouldn’t. She’s a cold-blooded so-and-so, but … No, even supposing that she did take a swipe at him … Let’s face it, he’s not exactly an ideal husband, but—’

  ‘To be fair, he has – did have – Alzheimer’s.’

  ‘Sure. I’d have thought that if she had killed him, she’d have set things up so that someone else would take the blame. Intruders? That would be the easiest excuse, or some of the people he’s been dealing with might have turned on him. He’s been involved in some dodgy deals in the past but not, I think, recently. Or not that I’ve heard of.’ He ran his hands back through his longer-than-usual dark hair and held on to his head.

  Susan was thinking of the children. ‘Oh, those poor little things. The police must think she’s guilty or they wouldn’t bother to get Social Services to collect them.’

  ‘I think, if you can manage here �
�’ Rafael started down the corridor to his study, saying, ‘I’ll see what I can find out.’

  Susan called after him, ‘What about Little Evan?’

  ‘Oh. Yes. All right. I’ll get on the internet and see if I can track down which nursery he’s at. It’s bound to be the most expensive in the neighbourhood.’

  He vanished into his den. He had an office at the block of flats he owned and managed, but he intended in future to work more from home. This new study of his – which had once been Ellie’s – now contained a lot more technology than hers had ever done. Rafael had spent an hour the previous evening installing and connecting up this and that while Susan had concentrated on food and bedding.

  Susan wondered what Rafael had meant about Evan being involved in dodgy dealings in the past. Dodgy enough to get him killed?

  Susan knew that Rafael had occasionally sailed too closely to the wind in the old days before they’d met. Before they were married, he’d promised her that he’d never get involved in questionable dealings again, and he hadn’t.

  At least, not to her knowledge, he hadn’t.

  He might perhaps have heard something on the grapevine …?

  No, it was far more likely that Diana had lashed out at Evan, not meaning to kill. No, of course not. But perhaps, in a rage … But there was no point worrying about that. Lesley would sort it out.

  Susan finished putting the pots and pans away and started on the crockery. She’d been planning where to put this and that in her new kitchen all the months that they’d been living in Rafael’s bachelor flat, but her mind wasn’t on the job now for worrying about the children. Rafael had laughed at her for being so soft about Evan and Jenny but there, that’s the way she’d been made.

  The phone rang. Startled, she lifted the landline on the counter. No, it wasn’t that one. She’d put her own mobile down somewhere … but no. This was a phone ringing in the kitchen. Ah, Rafael had thrown his mobile down on to the table and … she sought for it among the crockery and found it. Somewhat flurried, she couldn’t remember what his mobile number was, so said, ‘Hello?’

  A moment of tension, and the phone went dead.

  A wrong number. Or one of those dratted cold calls.

  She went back to fitting mugs into a cupboard over the space on the worktop where the kettle stood.

  She couldn’t get Evan’s death out of her mind. They’d never met, but Ellie had talked about him now and then, and there’d been pictures of him in the local paper, presenting a cup to some schoolchildren, and at a golf club event.

  What time was it in Canada? Ellie would want to be told about her son-in-law’s death. It always amused Susan to think that Ellie was Evan’s mother-in-law, as he was about the same age. His marriage to the much younger Diana had been his fourth trip down the aisle.

  Susan recalled that Evan had two surviving adult children from his earlier marriages. Ellie had said Evan took little notice of them. She’d also said he hadn’t taken much notice of Little Evan or Jenny, either. Ellie had often helped to look after her grandchildren before she went off to Canada with Thomas. Perhaps they wouldn’t miss their father much?

  Rafael’s smartphone rang again. This time Susan homed in on it quickly, only to have it go dead on her the moment she said, ‘Hello?’ Definitely a wrong number.

  Fitting cutlery into the drawer next to the sink, Susan thought that Rafael might well know something of Evan’s dealings, since they were both involved in the housing market. Evan, through his estate agency, had tried his hand at buying and selling properties to develop, and Rafael because he’d inherited a rundown block of flats which he’d brought up to date, doing most of the work himself.

  A third time Rafael’s phone rang, and then clicked off as soon as Susan answered it. She laid it down on the table, wondering if perhaps someone had been trying to ring Rafael but didn’t want to speak to her.

  Susan also wondered how Ellie would react to Evan’s death if she were back in Britain. Presumably she’d rush to help Diana, and would offer to look after the children?

  What would Ellie want Rafael and Susan to do in this situation?

  Shortly before Ellie and Thomas had left, Rafael had been invited to join the board of Ellie’s charitable trust. Ellie had told Susan that Rafael’s corkscrew way of thinking was a great asset when dealing with some of their less-than-perfect tenants. Would Ellie expect Rafael and Susan to act as her deputy in these difficult circumstances? Yes, probably.

  Susan was restless. What of Evan’s two older, grown-up children. Susan wondered if they’d been informed of his death. Presumably Diana would do that? Or would she?

  Susan put the last of the crockery away and fished the kitchen clock out of its box. Where should it go?

  The doorbell went, and Susan jumped. Oh, that would be their food delivery. Was it still raining? Yes, it was.

  Only, it wasn’t who she expected on the doorstep.

  A youngish man with a beard and a middle-aged woman with prominent front teeth stood there, brandishing a form. Lanyards round their necks. Solid figures, pleased with themselves. Officialdom, here we come.

  ‘Is this the correct address for Mrs Ellie Quicke? We’ve come to collect the children.’

  Susan called back to Rafael. ‘Social Services.’ And to the newcomers, she said, ‘Mrs Quicke is still away. Her daughter Diana asked us to look after the children. Can’t you leave them with us? Jenny is badly upset. Poor kids. It must be hard to lose their father and then be whisked away from their home and everything they know.’

  ‘I’m afraid you don’t have any choice. They will be well looked after.’

  ‘What does that mean? Will they be dumped on a paid foster-carer somewhere miles from home?’

  ‘Please, no arguments,’ said the woman, showing her teeth in what she must have imagined was a smile but which produced the unpleasant impression of her being a rodent in disguise. She flourished her form. ‘This is our authority to take the children. One boy, named Evan, and one girl, Jennifer. We are taking them to a safe place where they can be looked after by people who have been appointed to do so. They cannot be left with anyone who has not been vetted. I’m sure you understand that.’

  The young man with the weedy beard added, ‘We have to be careful, you see. Child Protection Agency and all that. You might well be someone, well, someone who abuses children in your care.’

  Susan said, ‘What!’

  The two newcomers pushed past Susan into the hall. The young man spotted the baby buggy and homed in on that. ‘There’s one!’ He pushed back the hood and woke Jenny, who had been asleep till then.

  Finding a stranger undoing the straps of the buggy, Jenny reacted with alarm. She had a good yell on her.

  ‘Oh, please!’ Susan reached out to take Jenny, but the young man evaded her.

  The woman thrust past Susan into the living room and scooped up Fifi from her playpen. ‘And here’s the other.’

  Susan screamed. ‘No! That’s Fifi! She’s mine!’

  Fifi looked up at the woman who’d so unceremoniously plucked her from her playpen, decided she didn’t like her smell or the way she was being held, and opened her mouth to protest. She had a good scream on her and exercised it.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Rafael erupted from his study. ‘What are you doing with Fifi? Here, give her to me.’

  The young man with the weedy beard believed he was in the right of it. ‘Leave off! We are taking them to a safe place and there’s nothing you can do about it, unless you want to be arrested for interfering with us in the exercise of our duty!’

  ‘What!’ said Rafael, darkening.

  Susan wrung her hands, reached out to Fifi and was thrust aside. Both children continued to scream. Their faces flushed bright red as they wriggled and fought to be free. Jenny almost made it at one point, till the young man took a firmer hold of her.

  Rafael snaked through the chaos and put his back to the front door. ‘Show me your paperwork.’

&nb
sp; The woman bared her teeth at him. ‘This is an official—’

  ‘Show me your paperwork!’

  Shifting Fifi from one arm to the other, the woman with the teeth presented him with her papers.

  Susan bit her fingers. She was in agony. Her baby was screaming and she couldn’t do anything to soothe her.

  Rafael flicked through the papers. ‘You are authorized to collect two children. One is called Evan and the other is called Jennifer. There’s been some mistake. Neither of these children is a boy.’

  ‘What!’ The woman recoiled. She looked down at Fifi, doubt in her face.

  Fifi was wearing a T-shirt and dungarees over her nappy. Jenny was wearing a pink dress and white socks with pink bows on them.

  Susan snatched Fifi from the woman’s arms. Fifi stopped crying and looked up at her mother. She huffed and kicked and waved her arms. Almost, she smiled.

  ‘What? What, what?’ The woman took her paperwork back. ‘Someone has made a mistake.’

  Susan took Jenny off the young man and for a wonder Jenny stopped weeping and clung to her.

  Rafael stood away from the front door. ‘Someone certainly has made a mistake. It might have led to your being charged with kidnapping the wrong child. If the person who made out that order of protection, or whatever it is, could make a mistake about the sex of one of the children you were sent to collect, then what other mistakes might they have made? I suggest you go back to your office and consult the legal authorities about this matter.

  ‘And, before you leave, I think you owe us an apology for your high-handed behaviour. We understand you were misled, and fortunately no great harm has been done, but—’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Would you like to see these children’s birth certificates? Neither of them is called Evan, I can assure you.’ He opened the front door. A chill wind entered and swept around the hall. ‘Bother! I should have listened to the architect when he said we’d need to add a porch. The north wind is the very devil to keep out. Penny saving, pound foolish, that’s me.’

  The two incomers dropped their eyes to the floor and slunk away.