Murder My Neighbour Page 8

  ‘But . . . where has she gone?’

  ‘We have no idea. We have repeatedly sent letters to her old address, which remain unanswered. We are holding her furniture until the six months that she paid for is up, although naturally we have stored them in a back room as we can let our best suite a dozen times over.’

  Ellie rubbed her forehead. ‘She gave you no hint as to where she intended to go?’

  ‘None. We did ask for a number on which we could reach Mrs Pryce, and she gave us a mobile number which seems to be out of service. We do not appreciate dealing with people who can’t make up their minds.’

  ‘I’m sure you don’t. What do her next of kin say?’

  ‘She told us she had none.’

  Oh. Mrs Pryce really didn’t like her family, did she? ‘I see. Well, thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure. Have a nice day.’ He put the phone down, and so did Ellie.

  Thomas came into the room. He looked preoccupied, till he saw Ellie’s face. ‘What’s up, my love?’

  ‘Mrs Pryce’s furniture arrived at the retirement home, but she didn’t.’

  ‘So, she changed her mind.’

  ‘A woman doesn’t carefully select what furniture she needs to make herself comfortable in retirement and send it on to her new home only to abandon it without explanation. Something’s happened to her.’

  ‘Yes, that is odd. Tell me all about it.’

  ‘In a minute.’ Ellie keyed in the phone number for her ex son-in-law, Stewart. He picked up straight away. ‘Listen, Stewart. I want to look round the Disneyland house in the next road. Can you get me an order to view?’

  ‘Surely you don’t want to buy it? It would be the devil and all to adapt it into flats, and it’d cost the earth. The house could be pulled down and the site developed, I suppose. That is, if you could get planning permission, which wouldn’t be easy in that neighbourhood. You don’t really want to go into that line, do you?’

  Ellie felt her temper rise. ‘I don’t have time to explain at the moment. I could contact Hoopers myself, but they must know you deal with the property side of our business, and it would sound better coming from you. Will you arrange for me to have a look at it, the sooner the better, please?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll ring you back.’ He sounded hurt; was he going to be upset because she hadn’t time to take him into her confidence? Well, tough.

  She put the phone down and gave her attention to Thomas, saying, ‘Have you got rid of your bishop?’ And knew her tone was too sharp.

  ‘As bishops go, he went.’

  ‘You don’t care for him? I thought bishops were in the habit of summoning you to their palaces, rather than finding their way out here to the wilds of West London.’

  ‘Ah. Well. He’s written a book and wants me to serialize it in the magazine, and I don’t think it’s, er, appropriate. He refuses to accept that it’s not appropriate. He’s tried writing and phoning me. No joy. Hence the state visit. Now, light of my life; what’s worrying you? Diana?’

  Ellie tried to switch her mind over to her daughter’s problems and got there eventually. ‘She says she’s got a new man in her life.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘She proposes to set up house with him and Frank in my old house, the one I made over to her.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Stewart and I will resist with our last breath.’

  ‘Quite right. That’s all?’

  ‘No. She wants me to bail her out of yet another financial difficulty. When she started the agency with Denis, they both signed a document saying that if one of them wanted to leave, the other would have to buy them out. Denis wants out, and she hasn’t got the money to get rid of him. Plus, she’s in debt all round. She says. I suggested she mortgage her flat and the house she’d rented out; she says she’s done that already in order to keep the agency going.’

  He stroked his beard. Sighed.

  ‘She wants me to buy Denis off, so that the agency can be taken over by a larger concern. She even offered to repay the money as a loan later, which surprised me. I said I couldn’t find the money. She doesn’t believe me.’

  Silence.

  Ellie pushed back her chair. ‘I’m at my wits’ end. How can I find that much money for her, without taking it out of the charity – which I can’t and won’t do!’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But if I don’t she’ll go bankrupt. I can’t bear the thought of that.’

  ‘Ellie, I can understand your distress, but . . . may I gently point out that it’s about time Diana took responsibility for her own actions?’

  Ellie blinked. Was it? The relief, if it was. ‘But . . .’

  ‘See that Stewart has a good solicitor because I agree that there’s no way Diana should have custody of Frank. Her lifestyle is not suitable.’

  ‘Stewart’s on to that already. Thomas, are you sure? I mean, the only way I could raise the money for her is to mortgage this house, but then we’d have difficulty repaying the instalments. We could sell it, but it’s our home, and Rose’s. Of course, we could live in a smaller place, but then you need an office and so do I, and I love this house, which is silly, I know it’s only bricks and mortar, but I really don’t want to move. Oh dear, hark at me. I’m babbling.’

  ‘I don’t see why you should have to move.’

  She grimaced. ‘A poor job I’ve made of bringing up Diana.’

  ‘The responsibility for her upbringing was not entirely yours.’

  ‘No.’ She relaxed. Closed her eyes. Breathed deeply. Felt the burden roll off her. ‘You’re right. She’s trying to push everything on to me as usual, and this is one too far for me.’ The burden rolled back. ‘And yet . . . No, I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘It’s moral blackmail.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘Yes, I must try to think of it that way and not get into a tizzy about it.’

  ‘You’ve prayed about it?’

  She nodded. Oh. Actually, she hadn’t. Not really.

  ‘And the other problem? Mrs Pryce?’

  ‘Could you bear to take another walk around there with me? I want to see if her car’s still in the garage. Vera and Pet said Mrs Pryce was going to drive herself to her new home in her own car. There’s a big padlock on the door, but perhaps we could take a torch and shine it through the window in the covered way to see if the car’s gone.’ She struck her forehead with her hand. ‘I forgot. Mia’s out and I can’t leave Rose alone.’

  ‘I’m expecting some more phone calls, so I can’t come just yet. Mia was going to have lunch with her roly-poly boyfriend and said she wouldn’t be late. Can you wait till she gets back and I’ve spoken to a couple of people? I’ll come with you then.’

  Ellie subsided into her chair and surveyed the paperwork her part-time secretary had left out for her to do. ‘Yes, of course. That would be the sensible thing to do.’

  Thomas nodded and left her to it.

  Ellie wanted to sweep all the paperwork off her desk on to the floor. And maybe trample on it. She wanted to lie down on the floor and have a tantrum like a two year old.

  Sensible? She didn’t feel sensible. She felt . . . stressed.

  She ought to pray about all sorts of things, but everything was going round and round in her head like a washing machine caught on a spin cycle.

  Diana’s finances.

  Little Frank’s bed-wetting.

  Rose’s failing health.

  The missing Mrs Pryce. Find the lady.

  Ellie couldn’t concentrate on any one of them long enough to formulate a coherent appeal to the Almighty. After all, He knew all about it, didn’t He? Oh yes. But she seemed to remember that He liked to be reminded. Well, the best she could do was . . . Please, if you could spare a minute?

  So . . . be sensible? Deal with office work?

  It was impossible to concentrate.

  She went back to the kitchen to start a new shopping list. Mia had said she’d bring back something for supper, but they were nea
rly out of sugar and tea bags . . . spreadable butter . . . and they’d hardly any cereals left, or bread. They needed more eggs, of course. The freezer looked half empty; it was time to restock. There was an excellent greengrocery in the Lane. She needed more than she could carry in one go. She wondered if they would deliver if she made up a big enough order.

  Mia had been doing most of the food shopping of late, but Mia would soon be gone.

  Ellie bobbed around from cupboard to fridge to larder, her list growing. She’d been shown how to order online some time ago, but had forgotten how. Perhaps it was time to relearn a skill which would be useful when Mia left?

  Rose slept a little and woke feeling more cheerful, much more like her old self. Her wrist was still swollen, though. They had tea at the kitchen table and ate the last of a sponge cake Mia had made. How did she manage to get her cakes so light?

  Stewart rang to say that he’d arranged a viewing of Disneyland for the following morning. He said he was rather busy so did Ellie need him along? Oh dear, he was in a huff, wasn’t he? She couldn’t be bothered to explain, so said that would be perfectly all right, thank you.

  Mia returned from her lengthy lunch date with glowing cheeks and eyes snapping with . . . temper? Or romance? Plus a rack of lamb chops which looked delicious.

  She readily agreed to help Ellie put an order for food through online and stood over her while she did it, which made Ellie feel so inadequate that she fumbled every click of the mouse. Mia was patience itself. Ellie wanted to hit her. Finally the order was completed and Ellie pressed ‘Send’.

  ‘There, now,’ said Mia. ‘You can do it all by yourself next time, can’t you?’

  Ellie gritted her teeth and tried to smile. She didn’t think she could do it all by herself next time. There were some things her brain wasn’t well equipped for, and ordering things on the computer was one of them.

  After supper, Ellie went out into the garden to do some watering. She tried to have a constructive think about all her problems, ended up soaking her skirt with a misdirected hosepipe and had to stand there, flapping it about in order to get it to dry.

  Action. That was the ticket. So she bearded Thomas in his den. ‘Are you free now to take another walk round the block? I want to test a theory.’

  ‘Sure. I need to get away for a while.’ He abandoned his desk with alacrity.

  This time Ellie didn’t linger to admire God’s creation of so many beautiful trees and flowers. This time she was anxious to get to the house.

  Someone was already in the drive, standing by the garage. A woman, trying and failing to lift a young boy up to look through the windows above the garage doors.

  It was Vera, with her brown-skinned son. ‘Oh, Mrs Quicke, you’ll say I’m daft, but I got to thinking after we talked this morning . . . and the more I thought, the more worried I got that maybe something had happened to Mrs Pryce, and I couldn’t get her out of mind. I had to collect Mikey from the childminder’s when I finished work, and I found myself walking back this way, just to look at the outside of her house. Say “hello” to Mrs Quicke, Mikey.’

  The boy muttered something. He had lively brown eyes and curly black hair, quite a contrast to his fair-haired, grey-eyed mother. Ellie remembered that he was supposed to be difficult. Autistic? Badly-behaved? At a special school?

  Vera stared up at the house. ‘Do you think she might have had an accident on the way, driving herself, you know?’

  ‘Have you tried ringing the hospitals, Vera?’

  Vera shook her head, making her hoop earrings catch the light. ‘It’s only since you said something might be wrong today that I’ve been worried.’

  ‘The same here. If we lifted Mikey up, do you think he could see if her car’s still inside the garage? Only, that window over the double doors is rather small, and I doubt if anyone could see anything through it.’

  ‘Don’t you touch me!’ Mikey kicked the door. And went on kicking it.

  ‘Stop that now,’ said his mother.

  He didn’t stop. She picked him up, and he went berserk, arms and legs all over the place. Vera staggered and would have fallen, but that Thomas took the boy off her and held him close. Mikey shrieked and struggled, but Thomas was able to control him. At last the boy went limp.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Vera, who was almost in tears. ‘He gets so excited, and if he’s crossed . . . Sometimes I’m afraid that . . .’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Thomas, and set Mikey on his feet while retaining one of the boy’s hands in his.

  Ellie felt limp, too. ‘Do you want to take him home? Suppose we just have a quick look through the window in the covered way.’ She pushed open the door in the wall and stepped through into the yard.

  ‘Hang about,’ said Vera. ‘That door’s always kept bolted.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t bolted now. I think your gardener is coming and going this way.’

  Vera’s eyes slid away from Ellie’s. Vera knew the gardener was still coming, all right.

  Thomas put on his reading glasses to inspect the door. ‘See these screw holes? It looks as though a padlock has been screwed into the woodwork here, only to be removed later on.’ He inspected the bolt on the inside of the door. It slid to and fro with ease. Had it been oiled recently? ‘If I found the door padlocked and bolted I could easily unscrew the fitment that held the padlock in place. Then I’d stand on something to reach over the top of the door to knock the bolt back.’

  Hm. Not brilliant security.

  Once in the courtyard they surveyed doors and windows. Thomas tested the door into the kitchen quarters. ‘Locked and possibly bolted as well.’

  More padlocks were on the doors which led into the garage, and two further doors beyond that. There was just the one small window into the garage. Ellie went on tiptoe to look through it. It was very dark in the garage, but if there’d been a car inside, surely she would have been able to see a glint of metal here and there? The purr of machinery was soft but distinct. Someone mowing their lawn nearby?

  Thomas lifted Mikey up to the window. ‘Tell me what you can see, Mikey.’

  Mikey announced: ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Can’t you see the big car?’ said Thomas.

  Mikey shook his head. ‘No car, stupid!’ His colour had returned to normal, and when Thomas set him on his feet again, he didn’t run off or misbehave.

  ‘Of course the car’s not there,’ said Vera. ‘Silly old me, thinking . . . I expect she had an accident, or ran out of petrol or something.’ She looked to Thomas for confirmation that her fears had been ridiculous. Women always looked to Thomas to solve their problems. Some men, too.

  Ellie said, ‘I grant you that her car’s not there, but it doesn’t follow that she drove off in it.’

  SEVEN

  Tuesday evening

  Mikey darted to the kitchen door and tried to open it. ‘Can we go inside now? See the lady?’

  ‘The lady’s gone.’ Vera pulled him away.

  Thomas checked all the doors leading out of the covered area. All were locked and/or padlocked, except for the one they’d come in by and the one that led into the garden. ‘Vera, oughtn’t all these doors have been padlocked?’

  Vera reddened. ‘Bolted on the inside, usually. I suppose Fritz, the gardener, thought he might as well harvest the crops he’d sown, because he hasn’t a garden of his own. I expect Mrs Pryce told him he could.’

  Thomas fingered his beard. ‘Fritz put the padlocks on when she left?’

  ‘I think she asked the window cleaner. He did lots of odd jobs for her, because he had ladders to get up to the guttering if it needed attention, that sort of thing.’

  ‘What’s his name and where might we find him?’

  A shrug. ‘He comes when he feels like it. Jack; Jack the Lad. Likes the sun, goes to Spain for his holidays. Big man, gives me the shivers, but Mrs Pryce likes a man with muscles, if you see what I mean. No idea what his second name is.’

  Ellie pushed the far door
open into the garden. The sun had gone behind a cloud, but the scent of roses lay heavily around them. She walked down the path past the pond and the lawn to inspect the vegetable garden.

  Thomas paced behind her. ‘Fritz hasn’t bothered to mow the lawn.’

  Vera jumped to his defence. ‘Mrs Pryce sold the mower and asked the estate agent to get a contractor in to cut the lawns. I don’t know why they haven’t done it.’

  Mikey ran into the hayfield that had been the lawn, screamed with delight, dropped on to his stomach, and rolled around.

  The adults ignored him to survey the vegetable garden.

  ‘Fritz knows how to grow vegetables, doesn’t he?’ said Thomas. ‘Where is he keeping his tools, or does he bring them in each time he comes?’

  Vera shrugged. ‘He has an old van that he takes his tools round in. He works all over the place.’

  Thomas inspected the damp earth beside the still-dripping tap. ‘Heavy boots. A man’s, recent. Only one set. Fritz?’

  Vera shrugged again.

  Ellie was scanning the windows of the house. Was that one at the top slightly open? It was difficult to judge from where she stood. ‘My housekeeper said she saw a face at that upstairs window.’ She pointed.

  Vera shook her head. ‘Mrs Pryce hasn’t been up to the top floor for months. Her knees, you know.’

  Did Vera think . . . fear . . . hope . . . that Mrs Pryce was still in the house? ‘Have you keys to the house, Vera?’

  Vera shook her head. ‘Mrs Pryce said to hand them in at the office, so we did. I must be getting back. If Mikey doesn’t get his tea soon, he’ll create something awful.’

  Ellie said, ‘I’ve arranged to look round the house tomorrow morning. Vera, if I fix it with the office and pay you for your time, do you think you could go round with me? You know the house better than anyone and can tell if . . . if anything’s amiss.’

  Vera blinked, taking in the subtext. ‘OK. What about Pet?’

  Ellie wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Pet, but knew she didn’t. ‘Just you and me. I’ll see you’re not out of pocket, and the office can fix someone else up to do your cleaning jobs with Pet.’

  ‘You think . . . ?’