Murder In Law Page 24

  Lesley sounded doubtful. ‘It’s a nice story, but you’ve no facts to link him with anything that’s happened. Look, I’m officially off the case. I can always drop hints, I suppose, but …’ She stretched and said, ‘Ouch.’

  Susan made one last try. ‘Let’s imagine, just for a minute, that there was a witness to Evan’s murder. Someone heard shouting and went down to the first-floor landing to see what was going on. He saw a man in black who told him to go back to bed. He knew who the man was because, although he wore a black balaclava, he recognized the scent and the voice.’

  Lesley said, ‘Hold on. Who told you what happened that night? It wasn’t Lucia, and there was no one else there. Unless … Ah, it was the child? No! Really? Little Evan told you this? But we can’t act on the word of a four-year-old? No!’

  ‘I know.’ Susan felt miserable. ‘I asked him about it, and I shouldn’t have done it without proper witnesses, should I? I thought I was being so clever. He told me this and that at intervals when he was feeling relaxed. I got your police officer to record what he said eventually, but I didn’t do it properly and … I feel such a fool.’

  ‘Yes. Well. He probably made it all up.’

  Susan felt as if her face was on fire. ‘No, I don’t think so. I really don’t. He went down to the first floor looking for his mother, only she wasn’t there. He was frightened. He heard a lot of shouting. He saw someone who told him to go back to bed. He knew the voice and he recognized the man who smoked cannabis. That’s a realistic story, isn’t it? Not one a little boy would make up.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Lesley. ‘Children nowadays watch all sorts on the telly, and some of the books they read, well, they’d scare me into having nightmares. No, I can’t face the thought of basing a prosecution on the word of an imaginative four-year-old boy.’ She moaned, hands to neck brace. ‘I think I’ve had enough for one day. Am I fit to drive home or shall I call a cab?’

  Susan had one more try. ‘What about the attempted kidnapping? Every time I think about it, my blood pressure goes through the roof. It doesn’t seem to me that the police are taking the matter seriously. Where’s the replacement protection officer we were supposed to have? Oh, if only we could get in touch with Diana! I’m sure this all goes back to her and the way she treats people.’

  Lesley pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘I’ll check. I know we’re short-staffed and they may have to prioritize. If there’s a riot outside a nightclub or a multiple car crash somewhere, there won’t be any officers to spare. Look, I can’t think anything will happen tonight with the children safely in bed here, looked after by two adults.’

  Susan was not convinced.

  Lesley blinked. She was in pain but trying to keep going. ‘I may not be thinking straight. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow. You’ve convinced me we need to look into Cal’s background, but the rest of your scenario doesn’t hang together. I’m not convinced this is all about a teenager needing to fund his drugs habit. If you’d made out a theory that that crazy woman this morning had been behind the burglary, then I’d be right on to it. But you can’t, can you?’

  Susan twisted her fingers in her hair. She couldn’t, no.

  Lesley was beyond tired. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘every now and then we get a woman crazed with grief because she’s lost her own child and tries to pinch someone else’s. Sometimes it’s an issue in a divorce case, with one party trying to get possession of the child. And there’s always a market for pretty children to be sold abroad. I’m far more worried about her than about some gardener who might have considered himself misused by Diana. If she’s fixated on one of Diana’s children, then she might well try again, probably while they’re outside on a walk, when it would be easy to snatch a child, shove him in a car and drive away. I’ll see that someone gets back here on duty first thing tomorrow.’

  Susan was close to tears. Nothing she said seemed to have got through. She said, ‘The woman used Ellie’s name.’ She turned to the window, where her own image was reflected back at her in the glass. Outside, all was dark.

  Lesley rubbed her eyes wearily. ‘You’re overreacting, and I’m worn out. We’ll talk again tomorrow. A patrol car will pass by every now and then through the night. You should be safe enough with the doors locked and Rafael on the premises.’

  Susan thought of the empty house next door, which was only too easy to break into, as Diana had proved. Once in, you could get out into the garden through the conservatory. Then you could break into their own big room through the French windows. She felt they were all too vulnerable.

  But maybe Lesley was right and she was overreacting.

  Rafael had stopped listening to her, too. ‘If we see either of those two strangers again, we’ll dial nine-nine-nine.’ His tone was almost patronizing.

  ‘They’re not strangers,’ said Susan, sounding like a child who’d been scolded for something she hadn’t done. She put two and two together and made it five. ‘The woman is Cal’s dealer. And the man is her lieutenant, possibly some relation of hers.’

  ‘Now you’re making it up,’ said Rafael, and this time his tone was sharp.

  She blinked tears away. ‘I suppose I am.’ The truth was hanging there, at the back of her mind, but she hadn’t got it quite right yet.

  Lesley was white of face. ‘Sorry, Susan. I don’t say you’re not on to something, but I’m too tired to take it all in.’ She looked around. ‘Did I come in my car? I don’t think I’m fit to drive. Can you get a taxi for me?’

  ‘I’ll take you home,’ said Rafael. ‘It’s getting late, and you look ready to drop. All right, Susan?’

  She nodded, because they expected her to agree. Inside, she knew it was not all right. Ripples of fear crawled up and down her spine. They didn’t believe her interpretation of events. Who could blame them? She hadn’t any proof. None. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew she was right. Or mostly right, anyway.

  Rafael took Lesley out, inserted her into his car, and drove away.

  Susan cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. She couldn’t stop thinking.

  If that woman is a drug dealer – which is a big ’if’ but it does fit the picture – then she must be furious with Cal for embroiling her in his crusade against Diana. Cal in turn must be feeling desperate. He’s responsible for Evan’s death. He’s murdered his lookout boy. He’s tried to silence Lucia and failed. Any minute now she might wake up and name him as her assailant. What would instinct tell him to do?

  Run away and hide.

  For this he needs money. Where can he get it?

  From Diana, of course.

  Diana would make a good target. She’s a woman, alone. But she’s disappeared.

  He knows from Lucia where Diana’s children are living now. He knows I’m a pint-sized homebody with a formidable husband.

  He suggests one final ploy to his drug dealer. ‘Let’s even things up by kidnapping Diana’s children and making her pay through the nose to get them back. Susan should not present any difficulty. We might have to wait till Rafael is out of the way, though.’

  Ah, why didn’t I see it before?

  When Cal met Lucia on Sunday evening, he asked her about the children and where he could contact Diana. For the first time, Lucia became suspicious of his motives, and SHE LET HIM SEE IT. He realized she knew why he was asking those questions and he panicked and attacked her.

  Susan considered the links in her theory and thought that yes, she’d probably got it right this time. There was no proof, of course. It was all based on her assessment of the characters of the people concerned.

  If she were right and Cal was still out for revenge and money, then the children were still a target. Oh dear … and Rafael had just left!

  No, of course Cal wouldn’t break in here tonight. Would he?

  Wouldn’t it be easier for him to turn his attention back to Diana’s big house? Burgle it again in the hope of finding the safe this time? No, he wouldn’t do th
at in case there was still a police presence there.

  Susan realized she was alone in the house except for three helpless children … oh, and Midge, the cat, who had just decided he could do with some company. He had set about making sure she agreed by winding to and fro around her legs. She fed him and switched the dishwasher on.

  She held on to the back of a chair, trying to still the shakes.

  I’m all right. I’m perfectly all right.

  The landline phone rang. It would be the baddies, checking that she was home and alone? No, ridiculous. It couldn’t be them. And why should it be, anyway?

  She didn’t recognize the voice at first. ‘It’s Sam, Coralie’s Dad. Are you all right there, missus?’

  She was so frightened, she spoke the truth. ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Ah. The thing is, you must say if I’m overstepping the mark, but Coralie told us about what’s been going on and, well, we said she was grounded and not coming back to you tomorrow. But she’s very much her mother’s daughter and she said she’d leave home and doss down with you and wouldn’t let you cope all by yourself. So we had a bit of an up and downer and we’ve sent her off up to bed in a right old state.’

  There was some confused shouting in the background. Coralie, wanting to know if her father was speaking to Susan?

  Sam took the phone away from his ear to yell, ‘Shut it!’ and then came back to Susan. ‘Sorry about that. Coralie’s worried about you.’

  ‘She’s been just great,’ said Susan. ‘But I do understand if you don’t want her to come back.’ She moved away from the kitchen window because it gave on to the great big dark space out there. Anyone standing in the road could see her moving around inside. How soon would Rafael be back? Would Lesley invite him in for a cuppa?

  ‘The thing is …’ Sam didn’t seem to know how to go on. ‘I’ve just come back from my last shout of the day. I had to collect a man from the hotel in the next road to you and take him to the station. I passed your place to get there and I noticed there was an old Volvo parked in the road a little way along from you. Three people sitting in it. There’s so much off-street parking in your area that you don’t often see cars left in the street. Now, two people having a chat in the front is OK, and two people in the back is something different, but three people …?’ Another pause. ‘The thing is the car was still there when I come back on my way home. I can’t get it out of my mind. Coralie said you’d got a police officer with you, so that’s all right, isn’t it?’

  ‘She’s been withdrawn,’ said Susan.

  The line went dead. Sam had clicked off.

  Susan shut off the kitchen light. It was too revealing. Anyone passing in the road, anyone coming into the drive, would be able to see her.

  She withdrew into the hall. She listened for sounds. Nothing. Thankfully the three children were quiet, sleeping peacefully, unaware of what might happen.

  Well, what might happen?

  Nothing might happen.

  Sam didn’t think it was nothing. He’d taken the trouble to ring me, to see if I were all right.

  Of course I’m all right. Just a little … wary. Just a tad scared of being left in a well-lit house when it’s dark outside and I’m all on my own. If those three people in the car are watching the house, checking how many people are here and how many might be left before they … well, what would they do?

  They’re not after Evan now. They’re frightened and angry. They want revenge and compensation. They’ve seen Rafael and Lesley drive off, leaving me on my own. The odds are three to one.

  Well, change the odds.

  Of course. She rang Rafael’s number.

  She heard his smartphone ring … in the kitchen!

  He’d left his smartphone on the table in the kitchen?

  She was going to scream.

  Er, that won’t help.

  Think, Susan! Think! What would Ellie do, apart from pray.

  Well, I can pray, of course I can pray. But the sensible thing to do is to ring the cops and scream for help. Come on, now. You can do it!

  Nine-nine-nine. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Weren’t they supposed to answer within so many seconds?

  ‘Which service do you want?’

  ‘Police! Quickly, please!’

  Pause, pause, pause. ‘What is your name …?’

  Susan told herself not to howl down the phone. It wouldn’t help. She managed to state her problem clearly, and without giving way to hysteria.

  The phone said, ‘You’re worried because you’re alone in the house and there was an attempted kidnapping earlier in the day?’

  ‘Yes. Sort of. A friend has just reported a suspicious car hanging around in the road outside. It’s been there some time. And there are three people in it.’

  ‘Just a moment.’ Long pause. The phone handler was consulting someone?

  Susan fidgeted.

  The phone spoke. ‘A patrol car will be passing by your house every hour on the hour to check that all’s well. If anything happens to disturb you, ring us again.’

  The phone went dead.

  Haven’t I just told them I’m scared to death?

  Susan heard a car start up in the road outside.

  A car was driven forward and parked across the entrance to their driveway. It turned off its lights.

  The streetlights were few and far between. They didn’t help much to identify the make of the car, nor its colour.

  Rafael wouldn’t park across the driveway, would he?

  And the shape of the car was all wrong.

  It wasn’t Rafael’s car.

  So whose was it?

  EIGHTEEN

  Monday, late evening

  Susan scrambled around the darkened kitchen looking for a weapon.

  I can bolt the front door, but oh, it’s got that big glass panel in it … and there are French windows leading into the big room at the back! Why didn’t the architect advise us to make the house burglar-proof? We should have had a stout oak door put in, and shutters and … I would like a moat and a drawbridge as well.

  What am I going to do?

  Pray!

  She looked wildly around for something, anything, to defend herself with.

  A dark shape loomed outside the kitchen window. It tapped on the front door. It was a man, she could see that much.

  She wasn’t going to let him in. No way!

  She dithered, closing her eyes tight, fervently wishing the caller could vanish, which he didn’t. It was Cal, the gardener. Of course.

  He rang the bell. Firmly.

  She shivered, clutching her arms. ‘Rafael, where are you?’

  Pray!

  Dear Lord above, help! I don’t know the right words, I’m no good at this thing …Would that old iron doorstop do as a weapon? It was here when we moved in … No, too heavy. I can’t even lift it … And I know it’s all wrong to ask You for help when I haven’t been in touch for a good while, but … If only I’d played hockey, or cricket, or … umbrellas are no good … and it’s not for me, in particular, but those poor children! Oh, Fifi! Don’t let them hurt Fifi! I’ll kill them if they touch her! Oh, what am I saying?

  Round and round the kitchen she went. She didn’t turn the light back on, it was too revealing. A knife, perhaps? No, I might kill someone which would be awful and I don’t know where to aim, anyway.

  Poor little Evan. Look after him, please! He’s had such a bad time …

  Ah! Got it. My heavy frying pan. If I swing it high …? No, I must try for low. Low down, see. Yes, I know there are three of them, and only one of me, but if the Lord is on my side … You will be on my side, won’t you?

  The bell rang again. There was only one man out there.

  Where were the other two?

  Ah, the man at the door was a diversion. The other two would have gone round to the far side of Ellie’s house. They’d break in through Ellie’s back door just as Diana had done. Then what would they do?

  They’d go across the hall and do
wn the corridor to see if there was a doorway into this part of the house. That will give me a few minutes. Where’s my own phone? I must ring the police again … bother! I’ve dropped it!

  She could have wept with frustration, trying on her hands and knees to see where it had gone and …

  No time to waste. Can I make some kind of barrier across the bottom of the stairs and … We do have locks on the bedroom doors, don’t we? If I lock myself in with the children and … What then? Wave a white flag or a sheet out of the window …? Where’s my rolling pin? That would make an excellent weapon, but … Where did I put it?

  The man has gone from the window. I can’t find my phone!

  They will have gone back down the corridor now and opened the door into the conservatory, or smashed it. I can’t remember whether there’s a lock on it or … No, a bolt. I think.

  Abandon the frying pan. Drag the two baby buggies out, and the scooter, and the bike. Can I tie them to the newel post at the bottom of the stairs? I can use the straps! My fingers are all thumbs. Add that dratted easel which we’ve never been able to find a proper place for and Fifi’s highchair and some saucepans.

  Crack! It sounded like a rifle shot. They’d smashed their way into the conservatory and the door there was hanging open on to the garden, wasn’t it?

  She’d left a small passage through the clutter on the stairs so that she could somehow wriggle through and up to the landing. She closed that gap after her, with a chair from the kitchen which she hauled into place from where she stood above. Her Heath Robinson construction now blocked the stairs completely.

  She stood on the landing, wondering what to do next.