Murder in Mind Read online

  The DC continued. ‘We received notification of a fatal accident at twelve hundred hours on Thursday morning. One of the children attending the play centre had an allergy to peanuts, had eaten a couple of biscuits given her by a clown, and died despite all they could do to save her.’

  ‘A clown?’

  The DC nodded. ‘Imagine that. A clown. Somebody’s birthday treat, apparently. Only, no one has owned up to having a birthday that day, or to organizing a visit from a clown. The women who run the play centre are trained in first aid. They kept their heads and did all the right things. As soon as the child was found to be in distress, they asked her au pair for the EpiPen to treat her, and used it. No good. The child was past help. Death comes quickly in such cases, which is a blessing in some ways, I suppose. They rang for an ambulance, a paramedic attended, who asked for a doctor; he pronounced the child dead and passed the buck to us.

  ‘The call came into the station just as the inspector was about to go out on another case, and he told me to take it. He thought it must be a hoax call because a clown was mentioned, and someone at the back of the room asked if the clown had big ears, which made him, er, rather cross. I wasn’t laughing, honest, but he caught my eye and said I’d be the best person to deal with it.’

  The DC’s tone was limpid, but Ellie understood the subtext. Ms Milburn’s boss bore the nickname of ‘Ears’ because his stuck out and turned red when he was upset about anything. Ellie had referred to him as the man with the red ears when she first met him and this unfortunate nickname had stuck – much to his fury and everyone else’s secret amusement.

  ‘I never meant to cause him distress,’ said Ellie. ‘I ought to feel sorry for him, I suppose, and I do try to.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Ms Milburn, smoothing away a smile. She knew, and Ellie knew, that Ears disliked Ellie. Of course, he didn’t seem to like anyone very much, and he certainly didn’t care for his DC, who was considerably brighter than him and a woman, as well. So yes; it would have amused him to send her out on a hoax call.

  Only, it had turned out to be far from a hoax.

  ‘I got there within fifteen minutes. The doctor was just leaving, and the parents were in the process of taking the other children away. It was lunchtime, you see; the day was warm, the children tired and fractious. Everyone was in shock. It wasn’t surprising that they wanted to take their children away.

  ‘The play centre people were excellent. They’d had the morning from hell, as a toddler had fallen off a swing and hurt himself earlier. It was entirely his own fault, nothing sinister, but everyone was concerned, naturally. You know how much noise a frightened child can make, especially when there’s a bump on the head or a cut finger? So all the helpers and some of the adults had been involved, looking after the toddler, arranging for the young mother to take him to hospital to be checked out.

  ‘It was all written up in the Incident Book and everyone was relaxing when the clown arrived shouting, “Roll up, Roll up! Birthday treat!” and passing out biscuits and balloons to all and sundry. Before anyone could ask who’d sent him, all the children had clustered around to be given a biscuit or a balloon, or both. Abigail not only took one—’

  ‘Didn’t the child know better than to eat anything offered her by a stranger?’

  ‘She’d been warned, of course. The au pair – who was in floods of tears when I saw her – said so. The play centre people knew of her allergy as well. The Hoopers insisted that everyone knew. They referred to the child as their little angel, the light of their lives, etcetera.’

  ‘The parents were at the play centre at the time?’

  ‘No. I interviewed them later, back at their house. The au pair had taken the child to the park. According to the au pair, Abigail was a monster with a shocking temper who, when crossed, could throw a tantrum and make herself sick with crying. Earlier that day the au pair had refused to buy her a bag of crisps and the child had been furious. So angry, in fact, that she’d thrown one of her famous strops and the au pair had threatened to take her straight home without visiting the park. It was unfortunate that she didn’t.

  ‘Abigail not only ate her own biscuit but snatched one from another child and ran off to eat it out of sight of the au pair. She died before anyone realized anything was wrong, by which time the clown had long since disappeared.

  ‘I called to the station for backup, which was rather slow in coming. I mean, you can understand that they thought that I, too, had been a victim of a hoax call. My priority was to ask for an All Points looking for a man dressed as a clown and after that to get statements from everyone who might have seen something. I asked the adults who were still there to stay behind till I could talk to them. Some did stay, but others left.’

  She lifted her hands in resignation. ‘I was by myself, I couldn’t physically stop them and I sympathized with them wanting to get their children away as quickly as possible.’ She stopped and looked, narrow eyed, at Ellie.

  Ellie obliged. ‘So, because you didn’t stop them leaving, even though you couldn’t physically do so, Ears wants your guts for garters.’

  ‘Which is why I need your help.’

  ‘What can I do?’

  ‘You know these people. I’ve got a whole list of names to wade through, and I need to prioritize, to find who might be likely to have some information. I need to produce something quickly because Mr Hooper is raging mad and wants to sue everyone in sight. First off he wants to sue the play centre. Even if the case is dismissed – which it should be because I can’t see that the play centre people are in any way to blame – but if he does sue, the publicity will close them down, they’ll lose their jobs and the community loses the play centre.

  ‘Mr Hooper also wants us to arrest the au pair – who is Polish, by the way, and seems a bit dim but otherwise straightforward. Yes, she deserves to lose her job because she was talking to a friend rather than watching every movement her charge made. But even if she’d been standing right beside the child, she might not have been able to prevent her eating the biscuits. I’m inclined to believe her when she says there was nothing much she could have done to prevent the tragedy because the child was so fond of having her own way. Mr Hooper wants the police to prosecute the au pair for manslaughter, claiming that it was her negligence which caused the toddler’s death.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘The Hoopers employed her. If they thought she was so inadequate, they shouldn’t have let her take the girl out of the house.’

  ‘Agreed, but Mr Hooper is—’

  ‘A bully, and Ears wants to please him. I do understand that you have to go through the motions. The other adults who were there will be able to back up the au pair, won’t they?’

  ‘They might, but they won’t want to speak ill of the dead. Especially of a child. And I doubt if they’d want to make the sort of statement which would condemn the au pair to a trial for manslaughter.’

  Ellie digested that in silence. From what she knew of Mr Hooper, it was more than likely he would insist on his pound of flesh. Equally, none of the other adults attending the play centre would want to be drawn into his quarrel with the au pair.

  ‘What I thought was,’ said Ms Milburn, ‘that as you know so many people in the community you might ring around, ask if anyone knows anything? It would save me hours of interviews with people who saw nothing, heard nothing and have their lips zipped tight. You never know, you might even be able to get a lead on the clown for me.’

  Ellie laughed. ‘Ridiculous. How could I?’

  ‘I don’t know. What I do understand is that you have a nose for this business. Won’t you at least try?’

  Ellie thought about it. She liked Ms Milburn and was inclined to help her if she could. ‘You’ve confirmed there was no birthday boy or girl that day? That no one had ordered a clown’s appearance?’

  ‘No one admitted to it, anyway.’

  ‘You got a description of the clown from the adults? Was he wearing a mask, or had he painted his fac
e? Was it a man or a woman?’

  ‘You know how unreliable eye witnesses can be. In fact, I think you’re almost the only person I know who can remember accurately what you’ve seen. I was told he was six foot high, not very tall, had a pot belly, was thin as a beanpole, had a bald head, and a ginger wig. He wore black and red trousers with a white waistcoat. No, a red and black outfit with no waistcoat. He had bare arms and a high collar with an artificial flower in his buttonhole, the kind that squirts water at you. Oh, and he wore highly polished black shoes. That last observation came from the small boy who’d lost his biscuit to the dead girl. I believed him. I think the clown really did wear highly polished black shoes.’

  ‘That boy sounds as if he might be worth interviewing.’

  ‘He’d gone by the time I got round to taking names and addresses. His name was Timothy. There are two Timothys on the list the playgroup kept, and I don’t know which one he is.’

  ‘The other people are producing memories of clowns they’ve seen in the past and making out that’s what they saw yesterday?’

  ‘Some of them may be remembering correctly, but I don’t know which.’

  Ellie thought about it. ‘Mobile phones. Most of them have cameras nowadays, don’t they? An adult waiting around for a child would be interested when a clown arrived unexpectedly. Wouldn’t they have taken the opportunity to photograph him?’

  ‘I thought of that, too. By the time I got round to questioning the adults who remained, there were only three left. One was on a business call at the time of the incident. He said his wife was at the dentist’s and he’d taken the morning off to look after the child. One of the women said she’d thought of taking a photo but the battery on her phone was getting low so she didn’t bother. The third was talking to someone else when the clown came in. She had thought of taking a photograph but at that point her little boy ran up to her in tears because Abigail had pushed him off the slide and he’d hurt his knee, so she forgot about it.’

  ‘One or two of the adults who left early might have a picture on their phones.’

  ‘True. The play centre people had a list of everyone who’d signed in that morning, and they gave me a copy in case I needed to follow it up. It’s going to take a while for me to get round all of them. Meanwhile, Mr Hooper is on the warpath.’

  ‘And you want to drag me into the line of fire?’

  ‘You’re fireproof.’

  Ellie shook her head. No, she was far from fireproof and she was worried that Diana was going to be drawn into this. ‘Two incidents, both from Mr Hooper’s family. Is the first one still being treated as an accident?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ The DC didn’t sound convinced. ‘If the clown hadn’t disappeared and Mr Hooper wasn’t so anxious to sue everyone in sight, we might have written this death off as misadventure, too.’

  ‘How did he disappear? Into a waiting car which was waiting for him outside the park gates? Was he driven off by an accomplice?’

  ‘None of the people I interviewed saw him leave. One moment he was there; the next, everyone was clustering around Abigail, and I suppose that’s how they missed his exit. Of course we could divert personnel from other duties in order to question everyone coming and going in and out of the park, to see if anyone saw the clown leave, but that would mean the expenditure of many man hours and put a strain on the budget. Authority is considering whether it’s worth it.’

  Ellie reflected. ‘I suppose it would be easier all round to let Mr Hooper place the blame on the play centre people and the au pair, and to forget about the clown?’

  ‘Well, it would, wouldn’t it? That is, unless your imagination started working overtime, and you woke up wondering where this sequence of events might lead. The boss says I’m inclined to let my imagination run away with me. What do you think? Is it possible that someone is targeting the members of the Hooper family?’

  Diana.

  Diana would gain by these two deaths because those children were expensive and likely to be more so . . .

  Ellie assembled a smiled and pinned it on to her face. ‘They tell me that all the best policemen and women let their imaginations work for them. If you’re right, well . . . I believe Mr Hooper’s upset a lot of people in his time.’

  ‘Let’s hope I’m wrong. I shudder at the thought of having to investigate a man who dines with the Commissioner of Police.’

  Ellie realized she must try to help the DC or spend the next week or so in a state of acute worry. Could Diana be responsible for these deaths?

  Her heart said no. Diana wouldn’t.

  Are you sure?

  Yes. It would never occur to Diana to target Evan’s children. She hadn’t got that sort of mind. A bash over the head; possibly. A sneaky visit by a clown; no.

  Who could she get to play the clown for her, anyway? No, it was not Diana.

  Set aside the first incident because that must have been an accident, surely; concentrate on the clown.

  Ms Milburn handed Ellie a sheet of paper on which she’d written down a long list of names. On one side there was the name of the child, and on the other the surname of the person who had brought him or her to the play centre. ‘They keep good records. I wondered if you might know any of these people and could find out for me quickly if they’d taken a photo of the clown. It would save some time.’

  Ellie looked. She read the list, twice, and put it down. ‘The name “Topping” rings a bell. I think I know someone called Topping, but why and in what context . . . Not at church, I think. Was she a volunteer at the charity shop where I used to work? No, I don’t think so. Sorry, I can’t think where I’ve met her. I don’t know any of the other names. Was this Topping person with a little boy or a girl?’

  ‘A boy. She’s a small woman with a big personality. Dark hair cut short. She didn’t stay to be questioned.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell. It may come to me later.’ Her mind churned with awful possibilities, of Diana being arrested and charged, of the possible fate of Diana’s unborn child, of Mr Hooper’s anger. Which reminded her. ‘You say you interviewed both Abigail’s parents? What is Angelika like?’

  A shrug. ‘The powers that be think a woman handles those matters better than a man so I’ve had to deliver bad news about accidents and even death to parents several times. If they care for the victim at all, the parents are horrified, disbelieving, shaken to their core. Quite often they tremble visibly. Some hyperventilate. Some collapse, physically and mentally. Some are calm on the surface, but you can see the whites of their eyes and know they’ll give way later.

  ‘Angelika with a “k” is quite beautiful. Young, tall and thin, with expensively treated long blonde hair. Beautifully made up. She models for swimsuits and underwear. Long legs, tan all over, expensive clothes. An expressionless face. She held a tissue to her eyes, couldn’t speak, except to say how much she’d miss her little angel, and how there was now a gap in her life which could never be filled.’

  Ellie caught the subtext. ‘You don’t think she was devastated, then?’

  ‘I really don’t know. She’s not that easy to read. I thought at first that she might be acting the part of a bereaved mother, but . . . I really don’t know.’

  ‘And Evan?’

  ‘A powerful bull of a man. Much older than her but still handsome in his own way. He kept saying how shocked he was, that he couldn’t believe it. No tears. Then the phone rang, a landline phone. Most people, if they’ve just received such bad news, let the phone ring, or take it off the hook. They can’t cope with an outside call. Or they give the caller the brush-off, say they’ll get back to them later. He was lucid, calm, able to explain what had happened and then to say he’d ring back next day. It was a business call from his office. During this phone call she picked up her handbag, got out her mirror and touched up her make-up.’

  ‘Ouch. That’s shocking.’

  ‘I am prepared to believe they loved and would grieve for their child, but . . .
I suppose they did, but . . . I’m not sure. By the time he got off the phone, he’d moved from shock to anger. Within minutes he was casting around for someone to take the blame. There was no more talk about what a lovely daughter he’d lost. He strode about the room, projecting violence.

  ‘Tell the truth, I thought Angelika seemed afraid of him. When she’d done fiddling with her lipstick and hair, she sat like a statue, beautiful, emotionless. But her eyes kept flickering: to Evan and back; to the rings on her fingers and then to the phone. She was thinking about . . . what? Ringing someone?

  ‘It crossed my mind to wonder if she’d resented the child, because Abigail had interrupted Mum’s all-important career. I wondered – again, this is only my imagination at work – if she’d want to put herself through another pregnancy.’

  ‘You thought she was putting on a performance?’

  ‘I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.’

  Ellie thought, but did not say, that Angelika had probably lost more than a child when she’d lost Abigail. She might also have lost her husband. Now that Ellie knew the importance which Evan placed on having a son, it was possible to wonder if he’d married Angelika because she was pregnant with his child. And now? Would her beauty be enough to keep her husband, now that Diana was on the scene and carrying his son?

  Ellie told herself she had no right to think like that. For all she knew, Evan Hooper might well have been head over heels in love with his beautiful young wife. Well, he might. Perhaps it would be interesting to find out.

  FOUR

  Ms Milburn said, ‘Mm,’ in appreciation as she laid her empty coffee cup down. She sighed. ‘When I interviewed the au pair yesterday afternoon she was barely coherent, not fit to make a statement. So this morning I went back to the Hoopers to see her and was informed Mr Hooper had thrown her out of the house last night. He gave me an address for her; she’s moved in with some friends up in Greenford, sleeping on their settee with all her belongings around her in black plastic sacks. A world away from the luxury of the Hooper household.