Murder by Mistake (7 page)

‘What!’

Ellie nodded, considered she’d made a sufficiently sharp impression on the DI for due process to begin, and sat back in her chair. She frowned. She really ought to have inspected the contents of the small suitcase Mia had brought with her before she’d set out on a shopping expedition. Did the girl need bras? Shoes? Toiletries?

The DI accessed data on her computer and stared at it for a long moment before swivelling round to Ellie. ‘Tell me.’

Ellie considered asking the woman to add the magic word ‘please’ to that request, but decided to overlook the omission in view of the seriousness of the situation. She told the DI what had happened the previous day, pointing to her scrapes and bruises as she did so. ‘I honestly don’t know whether Mia was the target or not. She’s convinced she was. She’s afraid that those who abused her, or possibly their friends, are going to kill her before the case comes to trial.’

The DI raised both hands. ‘Her death wouldn’t stop the trial. The police have her evidence on videotape, taken while she was still in the nursing home. We have the doctor’s evidence, too. Even if she died tomorrow – of natural causes or otherwise – the police would still go ahead with the trial.’

‘That’s a comfort. I’ll tell her that.’

‘Of course –’ the DI rubbed her chin – ‘the defendants should have been told this. I’m sure they must know, but human nature being what it is, people often believe what they want to believe. They might believe that getting rid of her would improve their chances of acquittal, no matter how often they are told otherwise.’

‘Ouch.’

‘But –’ tapping at her keyboard to access more data – ‘they’re all still locked up . . . the two stepbrothers, and the stepfather . . . yes, and the councillor who . . . and the man who supplied them with drugs. There were a couple of lowly lads who carried out some of the strong-arm stuff but . . . No, two of those are . . . One got bail, but he’s not considered a threat to the girl in any way. Ah, one of the other abusers got bail, but he was on his last legs.’

‘The one she calls “Uncle Bob”? Yes, he died.’

‘And the mother . . .’ More tapping. ‘The mother got bail. The police objected, but she made a good impression in court.’

‘Oh dear.’ Ellie remembered the woman well: a monumental blonde, flashing diamonds. A deep voice threatening destruction to anyone who crossed her husband in his plans for ever bigger developments. A woman who would refuse to acknowledge defeat and would bounce back fighting.

Ellie clasped her handbag tightly. ‘In my opinion, she was her husband’s enforcer, if that’s the right word. Her husband used his influence to get planning permission for his various enterprises, the sons assisted him in various ways – such as procuring young people to act as arm candy – and worse. If anything went wrong, the mother directed the sons to dispose of the problem. Mrs Prior gave me the shudders.’

‘She said she knew nothing of the girl’s treatment after she was raped and brought back to their house. She said she was told the girl was ill, didn’t want to see anyone.’

‘If you believe that . . .’

‘Agreed. What mother never bothers to check on her only child? But others did believe it. She got bail but is not allowed to approach her daughter in any way, or to live within so many miles of her. Since Mia left London to live in the country, Mrs Prior is currently residing in the family home, Prior Place. Not half a mile from here. How long will the girl be staying with you?’

‘Indefinitely. I know it’s rare for a mother to side with her new husband rather than her child, but—’

‘It happens, yes. By the terms of her bail, if the girl returns to Ealing, the mother must remove. I’ll see she’s informed immediately.’

‘Could you check to see if she knows about the events of yesterday? Because someone sent Mia some lilies late yesterday afternoon. Here’s the card that came with them.’ She handed it over. ‘As you can see, it says, “You should have died.”’

A frown. ‘How could she have learned that Mia had been involved in an accident so quickly?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that. You know how everyone seems to have those mobile phones which are also cameras, nowadays? There were several people taking shots of the scene. I remember wondering how they could, but I believe some people earn money by sending camera shots to the newspapers, don’t they?’

‘Yes, but how would anyone know where to find her?’

‘The police took statements, wanting to know who everyone was and where they lived. I had to tell the police officer my name, and Mia’s. I had to tell him twice that she wasn’t my daughter, but that she was staying with me. I had to give him my address. The policeman asked me to speak up because of the traffic. Anyone who was standing nearby could have heard, sent a picture to Mrs Prior, and told her where Mia was staying.’

The DI took her eyes off the screen. ‘I follow your reasoning. I wonder if the newspaper will have been given that information, along with the pictures? I’ll check, see if we can stop them printing her address.’

‘Oh dear. What a mess. And the man who saved our lives? Leon Spearman? I’d like to thank him in person.’

‘If you’re right, then his name and address will be in the paper on Friday, too. You didn’t know the woman who died?’

‘Never seen her before, didn’t really catch more than a glimpse, after . . . after. Horrible business. It keeps replaying in my mind. No one had the wits to catch the number of the car.’

‘Hang on a minute. I’ll see if I can get an update.’ The DI wasn’t long away, returning to say, ‘The Volvo. A family car. It was found abandoned by Ealing Common tube station late last night. It’s being examined now. It had been stolen the night before from outside someone’s house. The owner’s shattered, has two little boys of his own. And before you ask, they managed to save the toddler’s arm, but he’ll be in hospital for a while yet. The baby’s been taken by social services and they’re looking for other members of the family as we speak.’

‘I would like to think it was a hit and run by a joyrider, but I can’t quite convince myself that that was the case.’

The DI attempted a smile. ‘You have an instinct for crime, Mrs Quicke. It would make my life a lot easier if you hadn’t. I must admit you are more often right than wrong.’

Saying which, the DI actually held out her hand for Ellie to shake, before ushering her out of her office.

Wonders will never cease, thought Ellie. Did that woman actually admit I belong to the human race?

She looked at her watch and frowned. Everything always takes so much longer than you think it should. What was next on her list? She sought in her handbag for the envelope on which she’d been jotting down notes and found it eventually. She must go to the solicitor’s first, and then – it was getting late – a sandwich somewhere? And after that she’d go on to Marks & Spencer by bus, to get a whole load of stuff for Mia to try on. After that she’d better organize herself a taxi back home.

A horrible worm of suspicion was lurking at the back of her mind. Diana had said Denis had found them a large house to rent, one with six bedrooms and two bathrooms. Of course there was no reason to suppose that he was after one of the houses which Ellie’s trust owned. Of course not. Ridiculous.

Or was it? She thought she’d better check as soon as she got back.

FIVE

E
llie tried not to dislike people at first sight, or even second. She gave herself five seconds during which she suspended judgment on Mia’s solicitor, and then allowed herself to wonder if he’d had a personality transplant. Or might that be an asset in his line of business?

It was clear that he had all the facts and figures, the law and the prophets, at his fingertips – which, by the way, he was forever rubbing together in a manner which meant either that his skin was so dry it needed attention, or that he had an annoying mannerism which his parents should have checked. Provided, that was, that he had actually had parents, and had not been spawned out of textbooks by law reports.

He had arrived at the house just as Ellie was decanted from her cab, exhausted and hung around with bags from Marks & Spencers. Since Mia refused to leave the kitchen when the man arrived, he had seated himself at one end of the long table, laid out his papers, and proceeded to inform her of her duties with regard to himself and her inheritance. In a tone of reproach he pointed out that he’d been put to considerable inconvenience by her absence. He’d spent both time and money – remembering that time was money – trying to trace her whereabouts, all of which he would be forced to recoup from the estate. Now she had made up her mind to surface from wherever she’d been hiding, she should pay attention to what he had to say and, naturally and of course, follow his advice.

Mia said, ‘What happened to his cat?’

He smoothed out a piece of paper. ‘I have no idea. I assume it was taken by the Cats Protection League when the house was cleared. Now, as sole executor for my client, I’ve carried out his instructions, obtained probate, and am now ready to hand over to you, subject to deduction of any fees accruing. Do you understand?’

Ellie and Rose exchanged glances. Mia had insisted they stay in the room, and they’d been curious enough to do so. Mia didn’t seem to have any curiosity at all. She had put her head in her hands and was idly twirling a tress of dark hair round a finger like a schoolgirl, showing by her body language that she didn’t care what was being said to her.

The solicitor cleared his throat. Ellie was amazed that he didn’t shoot his cuffs as he picked a paper up off the pile in front of him. He shot his cuffs. She tried not to meet Rose’s eye, tried not to giggle, told herself that this was serious, grown up stuff and that she should pay attention. Wished Thomas were there to appreciate their visitor’s eccentricities.

It didn’t look as if Mia were listening as he started to read out a statement of her financial position. Ellie tried to follow, but got lost in the detail. Rose’s eyes glazed over.

‘That’s enough,’ said Mia, lifting her head. ‘If I’ve understood what you’ve been saying, he left his house to me with instructions that you should clear it, bank the proceeds, and put it up for sale. Has it been sold?’

‘As I was trying to—’

‘Yes or no.’

He sniffed, indicating annoyance. ‘We have had a reasonable offer, which awaits your approval.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to live there, would I? Close the sale. What about the business?’

‘In this day and age, the recession . . . There is a manager, of course, but he lacks, if I may say so, some of the flair which my client—’

‘Going down the tubes?’

Ellie was surprised how sharp Mia could be. But then, she’d been an intelligent, lively-minded university student once, hadn’t she?

He sniffed again. It seemed to be his way of expressing frustration. ‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly. It has some orders from old clients to keep them going, but yes, there have been some redundancies. It is still a nice little business, but perhaps—’

‘No longer a “nice little earner”? Hasn’t moved with the times, invested in new machinery, addressed new markets?’

‘I really don’t—’

‘Is there a buyer for it, at a reasonable price?’

‘Well, not as such, no. Early days, and in this present time it is a little too much to expect . . . but of course, given time, that is the route I would advise you to take.’

‘Sell everything and invest according to your advice? I don’t think so.’

He excavated a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and sniffed into it. His eyelids fluttered. ‘I’m not sure—’

‘Good,’ said Mia, getting to her feet. ‘That’s better. You may or may not have heard what I’ve been through this last year. I don’t care whether you have or not. But let me tell you this; I can’t afford to waste what time I have left. They may get me tomorrow or next week, and in a way I would welcome it. End the uncertainty. As for the inheritance, if I live long enough you should dump the lot in my bank account. If I still have one. Maybe I haven’t? I suppose I can check it out online. Whatever. Just don’t waste my time. Understood?’

Pushing papers together, eyelids fluttering, he reminded Ellie of a startled horse. Perhaps he was really a shy soul, and not just a dry one? ‘Understood, understood. But have you considered, have you yourself made a will? It would be wise, don’t you think? Be happy to oblige, give me your instructions, are you able to do so now?’

‘No.’ Mia hadn’t had much colour in her face before, now she had even less. Perhaps she hadn’t really believed in her lack of future until he’d taken her at her word?

‘Of course, of course. Will be in touch, any time, you have only to mention. You can be contacted here, of course? Naturally. But, er, what about the business?’

‘Sell it.’ Mia walked out of the kitchen. Just like that.

‘Oh, but – Mia?’ Rose went after her.

Ellie held the door open for the solicitor. ‘I’ll see you out.’ And did so, with him still fluttering his eyelids. Irritating man.

Returning to the kitchen, Ellie found Rose there, shaking her head. ‘Burst into tears, she did. Ran upstairs and bolted the door against me. Overwrought.’

‘I thought she was coping surprisingly well.’

‘Mm. That friend of hers, Ursula, came by this morning while you were out. What a strong personality, a breath of fresh air, made me feel quite tired the way she swept everything along before her. But she did Mia good, at least for the time being, jollied her along, put some backbone into her, told her not to put up with anything she didn’t want to put up with, which was probably good advice though I didn’t expect her to be rude to that solicitor, even though he could do with a dose of Epsom salts, as my mother would have said.’