Murder in House (22 page)

‘Steady does it,' said Thomas, helping Mrs Belton out of the car. The front door of the flats was closed. Ellie scanned the facade with its carefully netted windows, but not a curtain twitched.

‘What's that?' Mrs Belton pointed into the flower bed beside the path. A good quality handbag, rain-soaked and gaping, but recognizable. Before Ellie could say anything about fingerprints, Mrs Belton swooped on it, and with a cry of relief produced a bunch of keys, which she handed to Thomas.

‘Thank goodness, my keys! They've left me my diary too. Oh, but my purse is empty, the cards gone. Even my library ticket! And my mobile!'

Ellie stifled the comment
what did you expect?
as she helped the woman over the step into the hall. ‘Left hand flat, Thomas.'

Thomas opened the door, and stood back to let Mrs Belton enter.

‘Oh, no!' Chaos and destruction ruled. Mrs Belton dropped her handbag, making little gasps of distress. ‘What have they done? Oh, how could they! Look at . . . Ursula's pictures! Oh, it's too much!'

She would have sunk to the floor, but that Thomas managed to lift her into an upright chair with a broken back. The vandalism had been thorough. No pictures had been left on the walls, no item of furniture left upright. Books and smashed china lay higgledy-piggledy around. The television screen had been kicked in. The landline phone had been placed, with precision, on top of a settee that no longer offered comfortable seating.

Mrs Belton rocked to and fro. ‘Oh, I can't bear it. All my lovely things.'

Ellie darted into the kitchen. Untouched. The bedrooms? Also untouched. Now what did that mean? Presumably the gang had been after money and valuables, but they'd already taken Mrs Belton's purse and cards, so why bother wrecking the flat? Were they looking for things to sell, but if so, why hadn't they searched the bedrooms for jewellery, clocks, watches?

Thomas had his mobile out and was calling the police.

Ellie put her arm around Mrs Belton's shoulders. ‘There, there. It's only things, and things can be replaced. I know, because I lost my old home to fire and it was horrible at the time, such a shock. You are insured?'

‘Yes, of course. I . . . all my papers are . . .' she pointed to an old-fashioned wooden desk, which was now lying on its side and lacked its sloping lid. The papers that had been inside were in a heap beside it. A cheque book amongst them.

‘Oh!' Mrs Belton struggled to her feet. ‘My laptop's gone! All my work schedules, my reports!'

‘Are you sure it's not here?'

‘I left it open on my desk there when I went out last night. It was connected to the mains. You can see they've unplugged it and taken it! Oh, what am I going to do?'

Thomas tried to calm her. ‘Do you back up regularly?'

‘Yes, of course, I . . . a girl at work nearly got the sack when she forgot to, so I always back up.' She scrabbled in her handbag, taking out a plastic make-up bag. Opening that up, she produced a memory stick. ‘At least I've got this.' She started to shake.

The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of a policewoman who said she'd expected to see Mrs Belton at the hospital. She gave her name, but Ellie failed to catch it. Milford, or Milbrook, something like it. She seemed capable and made the right sort of noises to Mrs Belton, while Ellie made cups of hot, sweetened tea all round. Mrs Belton, getting paler by the minute, tried to tell the policewoman what she knew.

‘I'd been out to a lecture at the Town Hall by the Historical Society. I was offered a lift back, but it would have been quicker by bus as it happened, because they had to drop two other people off first. Anyway, I suppose it was about half past ten when I got back. It was very dark. I remember thinking the light bulb must have gone again over the front door. I walked up the path, taking out my keys to open the front door, and then someone – someone tall, wearing a horrible mask, I only caught a glimpse but I think it was a Dracula mask – leaped on me from nowhere and hit me on my cheekbone – here. Someone else grabbed at the strap of my bag from behind. I had it across my body, and I went over backwards. I must have hit my head as I fell.'

She touched the back of her head. ‘And then, it's all a blur. They used me as a punchbag. And laughed!'

‘There were just two of them? Both masked?'

Mrs Belton shuddered. ‘Yes, two of them, but I don't know what the other mask was. Something white with a big, gaping, red mouth, I think. I seem to remember being dragged into the hall, but then nothing till I came to at the hospital.'

‘How did you manage to phone for an ambulance?'

‘I didn't do it. I suppose someone passing by must have done so. I was out like a light. It was chaos at the hospital,' she said, tears forming in her eyes from weakness. ‘Some drunken louts in a car had rammed another car and there were six or more of them, all still drunk, reeling around, bleeding over everything. Disgraceful! It was hours before they came to attend to me. Then I had to wait for an X-ray for my wrist, and they said it was lucky it wasn't broken, though what's lucky about what happened to me, I do not know.'

The policewoman said, ‘A neighbour must have heard the fight and phoned for an ambulance.'

‘Her? She wouldn't give me the time of day. She's –' Mrs Belton tapped her forehead – ‘Alzheimer's. Carers three times a day. She's in bed by seven every night.'

‘Can you remember anything else about the two who attacked you? What they were wearing?'

Mrs Belton was sinking lower in her seat. ‘Dark clothes. I don't know. They were big and strong.'

‘Accents? Local? Did they say anything?'

Mrs Belton looked puzzled. ‘I don't think so.' She put her hand to her head. ‘I ache all over. My head's pounding.'

‘Did they steal much?'

‘My laptop, money and cards. Mobile phone. I don't know what else.' She looked around at the debris of her belongings. Some daffodils had been trodden into the carpet, and this jogged her memory. ‘Those daffodils were in a blue vase. It had a small chip on the top, but I still use it. It was Bristol glass, you know? That intense blue. My mother gave me two pieces, and I can't see them. I can't cope. When my daughter comes . . .' She dissolved into tears.

Thomas and Ellie exchanged glances. Ellie said, ‘Ursula can't be here for a while. Suppose we pack a bag for you, Mrs Belton, and you come home with us, have a bath and go to bed with some aspirin. You'll feel better after a good rest.'

‘No, no.' She wavered to her feet. ‘Things to do. I must just go to the bathroom and then I must let the insurance people know, cancel my cards. I'm with the Sentinel people. One call and they cancel everything for me. The folder should be in the desk, but . . .'

Thomas took charge. ‘Let me see if I can find the paperwork, while you tell Ellie what you'd like her to pack for you for a few days away.' He raised his brows at the policewoman. ‘If that's all right with you?'

The policewoman stowed her notebook away. ‘This is the worst case yet. They've always been content just to steal handbags and laptops before. But this –' she indicated the mess – ‘it's escalating, I'm afraid. Give me an address where I can reach Mrs Belton. I'll ask the neighbours upstairs; find out if they saw or heard anything.'

Ellie gently steered Mrs Belton into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. As she came back into the sitting room, she heard the front door of the flat slam behind the policewoman. Thomas grovelled on the floor, sifting through paperwork. ‘A rum do, Ellie. What do you think?'

‘Very odd.'

The landline rang. Mrs Belton called out from the bathroom, ‘Will you get it?'

Ellie was nearest and picked up the receiver.

A man's voice. Educated. Forceful. ‘Well, is Ursula back yet? Tell her to ring me.'

‘What?'

The call was cut off. Ellie stared at the receiver, then replaced it on top of the damaged settee. She thought: they left the phone in full sight, where we'd be bound to see it. They didn't trash it, as they trashed everything else in the room. Therefore the men who trashed the room wanted Mrs Belton to be able to accept phone calls.

The man on the phone had expected Ursula to come running back to London when she heard what had happened. It couldn't be a chance call from an old friend, wanting to get back together, could it? No, it couldn't. The wording was specific. ‘Is Ursula back yet?' He must know what had been happening to phrase it like that. And he wanted Ursula to ring him.

Which meant that he knew all about the trashing. Which meant that there was a connection between him and the vandals in masks, wasn't there?

Ellie felt quite dizzy. What was going on? Why was it so important for Ursula to return to London?

Mrs Belton limped out of the bathroom, blowing her nose with tender care. ‘So sorry, I seem to have gone all to pieces. I've just realized, I can't leave. Ursula will be expecting me to be here when she returns.'

Ellie helped her into her bedroom. ‘Don't worry. We'll tell Ursula where you're to be found. Just concentrate on what you'd like me to pack up for you.'

Thomas held up a file. ‘Eureka. The insurance details. And the number for Sentinel.' He lifted his voice. ‘Mrs Belton, have you a camera by any chance? I could take some photos for the insurance people.'

‘In the right hand drawer of the table in the hall. Or rather, that's where it ought to be.'

Luckily, the vandals hadn't touched that table. While Ellie helped Mrs Belton to change and pack for a few days away, Thomas found the camera and took pictures of the damage. He also asked permission to take photos of Mrs Belton's ruined face when she was ready to depart.

‘Leave everything to us,' he said, helping her into his car. ‘We'll cancel the cards and inform the insurance company. All you have to do is relax and get better.'

‘I daren't think what Ursula will say. Her pictures—'

‘We'll ring and explain.'

Ellie administered aspirins, tucked Mrs Belton up in bed in their spare room, and went downstairs to join Thomas, only to find him on the phone to the insurance people.

Rose came into sight and hovered. ‘Mr Roy . . .' she began, and twitched a smile as Ellie clapped her hands to her forehead. ‘Well,' said Rose, ‘I did promise to tell you he'd called as soon as you came in, and so I have. I also told him that other people have their troubles, too, and he shouldn't expect you to have a hankie ready every time he gets a runny nose.'

‘Er, no.' Ellie subdued a desire to giggle.

‘He really is a very silly little boy,' said Rose. ‘At least, that's what Miss Quicke says.'

‘Er, yes.' Ellie wondered at Rose's use of the present tense, but decided that now was not the time to ask about it. ‘Rose, I'm sorry to impose a guest on you, but Mrs Belton's been mugged and her flat wrecked. We simply couldn't leave her there, could we?'

‘We shall rise above it. Which reminds me that that funny Ms Woodyates popped round again this morning and said she'd wait for you, but I told her you'd gone out for the day, which I hope was what you wanted me to say.'

‘Cards cancelled, insurance informed,' said Thomas, putting the phone down. ‘The insurance people will send someone round to the flat to check in due course, but promised to let us know beforehand. Now, Rose: what's for lunch?'