Murder By Committee Read online

  ‘Of course,’ said Felicity, blushing. ‘I'll see to it, of course I will. How much is it? I'll bring the money in tomorrow, or perhaps the next day.’

  If she were going to leave her husband, what were the chances of getting the bill paid?

  Thomas looked at his watch as they got back into his car. ‘Where to now, ladies?’

  Felicity was frowning, biting her lip. Undecided.

  ‘Felicity, dear.’ The endearment came easily, because Ellie was indeed very sorry for the girl. ‘What do you want to do? Are you ready to leave your husband? It's a big step to take, and you must be sure of what you're doing. If you do decide you've had enough, then you're very welcome to stay with me for a while.’

  ‘Do you think Arthur would care?’ Felicity was biting her lip. ‘Or even notice, if he's got your daughter to keep his bed warm?’

  Ellie blinked. That hurt. ‘I can't answer for Diana, and I don't know the answer to your question. Do you want to leave him? You've grounds enough.’

  ‘I can't. You know why. Mummy. I could go on as we are for a bit. Only, your daughter's different, isn't she? I know I irritate him sometimes, though I do try, I really do. But he wouldn't really go so far as to get rid of me, would he? I mean, divorce. Not … not anything else.’

  They'd been over this ground before.

  Felicity sniffed. ‘He'll never find anyone who can keep his house looking so nice as I do, or look after his dogs and take them for walks and groom them, and be there when he wants me, and not there when he doesn't. I mean, Diana couldn't do all that, could she?’

  ‘No, she couldn't.’ But Diana could do other things, which he might be finding more attractive at the moment.

  ‘I must admit that it's a teensy bit lonely sometimes. And Marco is getting really nasty! Ordering me about just as if he were the master, and I was a cleaner. A couple of times lately he's tried my door at night when Arthur's away. I said I'd tell Arthur if he tried that again, but he just laughed. He said Arthur wouldn't believe me, and I suppose he's right. And that Martinez gives me the creeps!’

  ‘Yes.’

  Felicity fidgeted. ‘Suppose I were to get away somewhere, just for a few days? I could leave him a note saying that when he'd decided what he wanted, he should let me know and I could come back? Give him time to think. If only it weren't for Mummy …’

  Thomas said, with care, ‘If you divorced your husband, you'd be entitled to a comfortable income, and could easily pay for your mother's care out of that.’

  Felicity was silent. Head down. Plucking at her black T-shirt. ‘Or he could have me killed. To avoid a divorce.’

  Silence.

  Felicity made up her mind. ‘If I can stay with you for a bit, Ellie, that would be good. I need to collect one or two things from the house first. He's out with Diana this evening, so it should be quite safe. If you'd come in with me, just in case Marco's there, I could pack a bag and get away before he realizes.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Thomas, starting the car. ‘But we'll have to do it pretty quickly. Evensong in twenty minutes.’

  Ellie said, ‘Drop us at Felicity's. I'll call a cab to take us both back home. May I borrow your mobile again?’

  ‘Don't you have a mobile?’ asked Felicity, surprise and a little contempt colouring her tone.

  Ellie felt the sting. ‘Yes, I do, but I don't know what I've done with it. It's not in my handbag, that's for sure.’

  ‘You can borrow mine,’ said Felicity, producing hers. ‘I always keep it by me.’

  Ellie blushed for shame. From the start, she'd written Felicity off as a dimwit, but the girl was constantly proving her wrong. It was Ellie who was the dimwit, mislaying papers and forgetting where she'd put things. It was humiliating. ‘Thank you, Felicity, I appreciate it.’

  The girl let her down lightly. ‘You don't drive, either, do you? I don't know what I'd do without my car, though it's terribly old and often in the garage. I must ring them tomorrow and see what the latest bill is … unless …’ She left the sentence unfinished. If she left her husband she wouldn't have the money to pay the garage bill. Was she going to dissolve into helplessness again?

  No, she wasn't, but her voice trembled as she said, ‘I'll have to get a job, and move Mummy into a cheaper place.’

  ‘Good for you,’ said Ellie. ‘And of course you're welcome to stay with me till you're on your feet again.’

  ‘Bravo, Felicity,’ said Thomas. He drove them down the hill and parked in the drive of her home. The windows looked blank and dull, giving the house an unoccupied air. There was a drift of fallen leaves on the gravel of the drive and in the porch. There was also fresh graffiti on the garage doors.

  ‘Will you be all right?’ asked Thomas, looking at his watch. ‘I could wait, but …’

  ‘We'll be fine,’ said Ellie, knowing he was due back at the church. ‘Thanks for the lift.’

  Felicity got out of the car, looking at the graffiti. ‘Oh, I did hope Paddy would have forgotten about it by now. Arthur'll be furious! I wish Marco had made an effort to clean it off, but he doesn't appear to be here. Arthur won't like that, either.’ She looked up at the blank, uncurtained windows above the garage. The evenings were getting darker, and the whole house seemed to be in shadow.

  Ellie had the odd fancy that if the sun struck the building, it would disappear like a soap bubble. Perhaps it was all that dark red paint against red brick. A dispiriting combination.

  Felicity let them into the great house. The air struck Ellie as being slightly damp. Felicity exclaimed, and turned up the thermostat so that the central heating clicked on. She didn't bother to turn on any lights, but led the way up the imposing staircase to the first floor and down a corridor, sorting out a key from her bunch.

  ‘Arthur sleeps in the big bedroom at the front, but when he's away I like to sleep in a small bedroom at the back, because it overlooks the garden. I keep my clothes there, so that Arthur's got plenty of room for his wardrobe. I always keep my door locked when I'm out, because of Marco and … oh!’

  It wasn't going to be necessary to use the key in the door. It was ajar. A tyre lever lay on the floor - was that the instrument that had been used to break Ellie's windows? - and the splintered edge of the door showed where someone had jimmied it from the frame.

  Felicity gave the door a push and it swung open, revealing a pink bedroom which looked out on to the garden. The curtains had been roughly drawn across the window and a bedside light left on. A dishevelled, unshaven figure lay flat on his back on the single bed. There were half-healed scratches on his hands showing where Midge had defended himself.

  Marco had been sick at some point. Carpet and bedding - not to mention his clothes - bore evidence of this. Five empty beer cans lay around, with one spilling half its contents on to the carpet. Ellie disturbed another with her foot, and it rolled away from her.

  Marco must have come back from the pub drunk. He'd known the police wanted to question him about Ellie's windows. Perhaps that's why he'd not returned to his own quarters? Or perhaps he'd simply been drunk enough to hunt for Felicity? Either way, he'd forced his way into her room sometime during the night. It must still have been dark, to judge by the evidence of the halfdrawn curtains and the bedside light. He'd stayed there, drinking, till he'd passed out.

  Women's clothes had been pulled from the wardrobe, and emptied out of a chest of drawers. Not many clothes, and none of them could have cost much.

  Felicity picked up a pretty blue scarf. ‘Mummy gave me this for Christmas!’

  It was stained too.

  Ellie saw that Marco was beginning to stir out of his drunken slumber. ‘Come away. I'll take you shopping in the morning.’

  ‘But …’ Felicity picked up a sweater, some underwear, a pair of black jeans. ‘I can't just … these are all I've …’

  Ellie put her arm round the girl's shoulders. ‘The only things worth keeping are items of sentimental value. Did you say your granny left you some jewellery? Are there an
y family photos you'd like to keep? Where would they be?’

  Felicity made a sound as if she were in pain, but stood on a chair to rescue a worn leather jewellery case from the top of the wardrobe. From under her bed she pulled out a plastic bag containing a couple of old-fashioned photograph albums.

  Marco was definitely stirring. He would have a terrible headache. Hopefully.

  Ellie tugged on Felicity's arm. ‘Let me take those for you. Now, is there anything else you need?’ The girl scooped up an armful of clothes, and looked around, chewing her lip, undecided, on the verge of tears.

  Ellie prompted her. ‘What about recipe books? Gardening books? That sort of thing?’

  ‘My own trowel, that my papa - that's my second papa - gave me when I was little. It's stainless steel. And my winter boots and coat … oh, I can't think.’

  ‘Can you find a suitcase to put your things in?’

  Felicity was going to cry again. ‘The matching cases are all Arthur's.’

  ‘Then we'll find a couple of large plastic bags for these things, shall we?’

  They got as far as the corridor, then Felicity stopped to pluck a watercolour of some bluebells off the wall. ‘That's mine, that Mummy gave me when I was tiny, and I've always had it.’

  Ellie added the picture to the jewellery box and albums. Felicity's arms were full of clothing, some of which she dropped as she led the way to the head of the stairs. Ellie stooped to pick up one of Felicity's boots.

  The front door swung open, letting in a blast of cold air. In strode the master of the house, bringing with him an air of good wine, cigars and aftershave. And menace.

  Arthur was feeling pleased with himself. Which didn't last long. He threw a laptop and his mobile on to the hall table. ‘Felicity!’ He switched on the light in the hall. ‘Why hasn't the heating been turned on? You know I don't like coming into a cold house.’

  He hadn't yet caught sight of Ellie, deep in the shadow of the landing.

  ‘Arthur!’ Felicity cringed, clutching her possessions. ‘I thought … didn't you say that …? I've been out all day!’

  ‘Why are you wandering around in the dark? And what are you doing with all that washing on a Sunday night? You know it gives me a headache when you run the washing machine.’ He turned to usher a companion into the hall. ‘Come on in, my dear. Welcome to the ancestral home.’

  Oh, no! Ellie's mind leaped at the truth before the woman came into sight. But no! He wouldn't bring Diana here, before he'd rid himself of Felicity, would he? But that's exactly what he had done.

  Diana moved into the light, wearing a sleek black dress which looked new and had certainly not come from Marks & Spencer. A light, glittery wrap was around her shoulders, picking up the pinpoints of diamond studs in her ears. Where had those jewels come from? Guess! Diana had been shopping with her credit cards, setting lures to catch the eye of a wealthy man.

  Diana, whose eyes were everywhere, was trying to look bored, but taking everything in. Yes, this was what Diana wanted. A house and a lifestyle to die for!

  Felicity could read the signs as well as Ellie.

  Arthur heaved off his overcoat, and threw it over a chair. He helped unwind Diana from her gauzy wrap. ‘We'll soon have the house warm enough, my dear.’ And to Felicity, ‘Well, don't just stand there! It's been quite a day, and I don't want any lip from you. I've had enough of that from …’ He scowled. ‘Well, never mind, that little rebellion's been quelled, and I won't be having any more trouble from that direction.’

  Ellie flinched. So Arthur had overcome the ‘little rebellion', had he? Then Mr Talbot and Gwyn had lost!

  ‘We could do with a drink. In my den. Straight away.’

  Felicity gasped, and more clothing slipped from her arms. She looked as if she were about to faint.

  ‘Goodness gracious me.’ Diana was amused. ‘Is it always like this?’

  Arthur's mood switched to outrage. ‘Snap out of it, girl! Drinks! Now! Chop-chop!’

  At this point Marco came blundering out into the corridor, holding his head, and moaning.

  Arthur heard him. ‘What's that! A burglar?’

  Felicity quavered. ‘It's Marco. He broke into my room and has been sick.’

  Arthur was astonished. ‘What did he do that for?’

  ‘He wanted … he wanted me.’

  Diana smiled, all disbelief. ‘Oh, really!’

  Arthur shouted with laughter. ‘Don't be silly, old girl. What would he want with you, eh?’

  Felicity reddened, and was mute.

  Marco hadn't realized his boss was back. He could see Felicity at the top of the stairs, and that was enough for him. He bounced off the wall and reached for her, leering. ‘Oi! You! Come back here and let's have a tumble!’

  Felicity attempted a scream, but managed no more than a squeak. As Marco lunged for her, she tried to recoil, and lost her footing. She tumbled down a couple of steps, dropping everything she was carrying, before catching hold of a baluster to halt her descent.

  Ellie jettisoned her own load and rushed down after Felicity, cradling her. Felicity held her breath.

  ‘Mother! What are you doing here?’ Diana was aghast, as well she should be.

  Arthur saw Ellie for the first time too. ‘What …? You …?’ He strode up the stairs, pausing momentarily when he reached Felicity, but making no move to touch her. He loomed over Ellie. ‘Didn't I tell you to get out and stay out? Get the hell away from my wife, do you hear?’

  He looked up at Marco. ‘What the hell do you think you're playing at? Did you really dare go into my wife's bedroom? Out of my way!’ He took the last few steps at a run and blundered along the corridor, switching on lights as he went. They all heard his roar of anger when he saw the bedroom door jimmied open and the mess within.

  Marco's knees gave way. ‘I can explain …!’

  Wheeling back down the corridor, Arthur swung at Marco, who tried to duck but couldn't get out from under in time. Marco half fell and half stumbled down the stairs past Felicity and Ellie, with Arthur lumbering after him.

  At the bottom Arthur picked up Marco, squealing, and kicked him across the hall.

  Diana laughed. Felicity let go of the breath she'd been holding, and turned her face into Ellie's shoulder.

  Arthur opened the front door, and swung Marco out into the night. ‘You're sacked! Get your things, and leave! Now!’

  Marco sprawled on the gravel. He shook his head to clear it. He hadn't expected Sir Arthur back, and he hadn't expected an audience when he went after Felicity. Marco chose, perhaps unwisely, to fight. He staggered to his feet. ‘You won't sack me. You daren't!’

  Arthur stood in the doorway, towering over him. ‘You tell me what I can do and can't do? I could stamp you into the mud and not even notice it.’

  Marco took a step back, but wasn't finished yet. ‘There's things I could tell, if I had a mind!’

  ‘Try it! Would anyone take the word of a worm like you, against me? I know nothing of what you may have been doing behind my back. Understand?’

  Marco retreated a few steps, then returned to the fight. ‘I know stuff! Stuff you wouldn't like told.’

  Arthur was contemptuous. ‘If I hear you've been making trouble for me, I'll ask Martinez to pay you a visit. Understand?’

  The threat sobered Marco. He swayed on his feet, muttering. Then said, in a calmer voice, ‘You can't turn me out just like that. I'll go in the morning. And you owe me a month's wages, right?’

  ‘A month's wages won't pay the damage you've done to my property. Now, get out. Remember, if I hear that you've been gossiping …’

  Marco had had enough. ‘You'll be sorry for this, you will!’ The sound of his footsteps retreated.

  Arthur shut and bolted the front door. He looked for approbation not to his wife, but to Diana.

  Diana ran her hand down his sleeve. ‘Fisticuffs! Adorable!’ He laughed, good humour restored.

  Then scowled up at his wife. ‘Get up, girl! Drinks. No
w. Then a little supper in half an hour, say. As for you, Mrs Quickie, or whatever your name is … out!’

  Ellie said, ‘I don't think your wife's broken any bones in her fall, but it has shaken her up.’ No, nothing appeared broken - except for the girl's spirit. She was like a rag doll. No backbone. Ellie coaxed the girl to stand. It would be easy to take over, to tell Arthur that Felicity was leaving him, and to sweep her out of the house.

  No. That wouldn't be right. This was a decision that Felicity must make and communicate to her husband herself. Or not. The girl was trembling, clinging to Ellie.

  Arthur's lip was lifting. ‘Pull yourself together, girl. Our guest will think poorly of your hospitality.’

  Felicity pushed back her hair, which had come loose. ‘Arthur, you said you wouldn't be coming back tonight, and then I found Marco in my room. But that's not it. What it is …’ she faltered, then went on in a stronger voice. ‘What it is, I've had enough. You've been good to me in lots of ways, I know that, and I'm grateful. But it's not enough and I'm leaving you.’

  Arthur's eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Has your father been getting at you? You know he's lost his latest battle with me?’

  Felicity shook her head. ‘I haven't been in contact with him. I know that leaving you means Mummy may suffer terribly, but I can't go on like this …’ Her voice broke, and she brushed her forearm across her face. ‘So I'm going. I'll get a job, somewhere. My car's in the garage still. You can pick it up tomorrow. I'll just take one or two things now, and come back for the rest tomorrow.’

  Arthur's eyes went from side to side. Ellie could read him easily enough. This was a surprise, yes; but it wasn't unwelcome news. His eyes went to Diana, who was ironing out a smile, but otherwise seemed content to let events take their course. If Felicity went, it would ease his path with Diana. Perhaps he'd get another housekeeper, and then move Diana in?