Murder in Mind (28 page)

Ellie wanted to say, ‘Don't be ridiculous!' Or alternatively, ‘Try not to be so stupid!' She held her tongue because neither comment would be helpful. Mrs Lavery might not be the brightest blade in the box but she probably suited Diana very well. Diana would not want to be outshone by a sharper business mind nor have a member of the staff question any of her decisions . . . which was one of the reasons why she'd forced out Mr Abel, who might be dogged but was also a man of integrity who didn't believe in cutting corners.

Mrs Lavery led the way into the back office and seated herself behind the big desk, trying out the chair and relishing the authority it gave her. ‘Me, acting manager!' She reached her hand to the landline phone. ‘I must tell my husband.'

‘One moment,' said Ellie, conscious of time marching on, things to do, people to see – and a small boy holding on to a giant umbrella with one hand and clinging to her coat with the other. ‘Do you happen to know who Mr Hooper is insured with?'

Round eyes. Hand to mouth. ‘Oh my! His house burning down. Yes, of course. Everything here is with the Britannia. I'd better ring them, I suppose. It will be up to me to make the arrangements if he's kept in hospital.'

Ellie didn't think that a good idea. ‘May I suggest that I contact my daughter first? She can confirm your temporary status and tell you what she would like you to do.'

‘Oh. Yes. I suppose.' Reluctantly.

Ellie smiled sweetly, chucked off her heavy mack and dialled her home phone number. Rose answered.

‘Rose, dear; is my daughter downstairs yet?'

‘Not she, the little madam.'

‘Well, do you think you might take a cup of tea up to her in a minute and ask her to phone me at her office? There's a problem here that only she can solve. Is Vera back yet?'

‘No, but she rang to say she'd be here in a while. Am I supposed to wait on Diana? Pat says there's been people calling for you. That blondie for one. Most insistent. Thomas rang, wanting to know if you were all right, and I said probably but one of the cleaners found your mobile in the sitting room, so that's why he couldn't get through to you, which got him worrying, and he wanted to know if he ought to come back tonight, but I said no, he ought to see to his own business. As it is, we've got such a houseful I don't know whether I'm coming or going. How many should I expect for supper, do you think?'

‘Think big, and we'll freeze any leftovers. No news from Stewart or the hospital?'

‘No, though the phone was ringing a while ago when I was out in the garden fetching in some roses, which are a bit rain-spotted but still got some colour in them, and I didn't get to it in time. I expect they've left a message.'

‘Right. I'll be back soon.' She put down the phone but held on to it. The temporary manageress made a couple of passes towards the phone, but Ellie wasn't about to let go. ‘Now, Mrs Lavery, the most important thing to do is to find Mr Abel a solicitor. I haven't my own mobile with me, so I'll have to look a number up in the directory. Mikey, would you be so kind? I can see the phone directories on that shelf over there.'

Mikey brought over the directory, Ellie picked out her own solicitor's name and got through to him. ‘Dear Gunnar, another small problem . . .'

As she talked to Gunnar, she could hear that the phones were ringing in the outer office, but they were now being answered. Good.

Mrs Lavery kept casting uneasy glances in Ellie's direction. Under normal circumstances Ellie would have agreed she was being high-handed, but not today. She finished the call to Gunnar and smiled at the woman. ‘Now, Mrs Lavery, as Mr Hooper is still in hospital we need to contact his first wife, Monique, and his son Philip. Diana asked Mr Abel to look up the information for me, but unfortunately he was prevented from passing it on. Do you think you could help me find their details?'

Mrs Lavery tossed her head. ‘I really don't think I can give out any personal information. Perhaps you can ask your daughter when she sees fit to oblige us with her presence.'

Ellie pretended to acquiesce. There must be another way round this woman's officiousness. Ellie's stomach rumbled, reminding her that it was lunchtime. ‘Oh, Mrs Lavery, I'm dying for a cuppa. While we're waiting for my daughter to ring, do you think you could ask someone to make some tea for me and perhaps find me a couple of biscuits, too?'

For one moment Ellie thought the woman would refuse, but she did acquiesce, if with a bad grace. And left the office.

‘Quick, Mikey. We need those telephone numbers. Mr Abel may have run them off for me from the computer, or he may have accessed a Rolodex or address book. Let's see if we can find them.'

Mikey homed in on Mr Abel's desk, while Ellie rather distractedly looked in his drawers. She was always happier with paper than with a computer.

Mikey plucked a piece of paper from the top of the in tray and held it high in the air before handing it over to Ellie.
Yes! Thank you, Mr Abel.
It had the details she'd asked for. ‘Bravo, Mikey! Now, as soon as I've had a cuppa, let's get out of here.'

Tuesday afternoon

Back home all was quiet. No guests. No cleaners. Rose bustled out to meet them and take their wet macks and the outsize umbrella, talking the while.

‘The phone's been ringing off and on, but I left it for you to listen to the messages. Pat stayed for a while, because she said there was a pile of mail to deal with, and that blondie came by and seemed very upset not to see you—'

‘What blondie?'

‘Dunno. Pat didn't know, either. Pat said that if you wanted her, she'd come back this afternoon, which it already is, though I don't know how she thinks you're going to be able to concentrate on business with so much else going on. Before you ask, yes; I took some tea up to her Royal Highness, and she didn't thank me for it, oh no. But there; I didn't expect thanks, her being what she is. So I gave her your message and she asked me to hand her her Blackberry, which I didn't know what it was but it turns out to be some kind of phone but not the usual sort, she says. She had a sharp word or two to someone at her office and off she went in her car as if the devil was after her, which he probably is, leaving her things all over your bedroom, which I told her was a disgrace but she took no notice, as you'd expect.'

‘Oh, good. At least she can pick up the pieces at Hoopers. Is Vera back yet?'

‘That she is, and some of her things are in my room downstairs and some upstairs and she said Mikey would help her when he got back . . . which it looks like he's already gone off to do, the little tyke. Oh, and here's your mobile, take it and put it away safely before you forget it again.'

Ellie listened to her messages.

Short and sharp from Freya. ‘I'm still at the hospital. More tests have been ordered. Dad doesn't seem to know where he is half the time, but he does like having me hold his hand. I'll ring again when I can get some sense out of the doctors.'

Nothing from Angelika.

One from Stewart. ‘Ellie, I'm in Nightmare Alley. The whole of the downstairs is just a shell of blackened rooms. The garage likewise, with the remains of two cars in it. The back of the house is intact, but everything there's been spoiled either by smoke or water. Evan's study is at the back, but the firemen say it's not safe for anyone to go in, so I can't rescue his computer or his papers. I've told Angelika the insurers will want everything left as is till they've had a chance to inspect the damage. I suggest you get on to his office to see if they know who the insurers may be, because Angelika hasn't a clue. In the meantime I'll get all the downstairs doors and windows boarded up.'

Good old Stewart. She got him on her phone. ‘Stewart? Ellie here. I've been to the Hooper office and they think he's insured with Britannia. Diana's gone over there now and I expect she'll deal with it. Are the reporters still hanging around? We don't want anyone to know where the girls are staying.'

‘One did come by, took some photos, wanted information about the members of the family – which I didn't give, incidentally – and left. The firemen say it was definitely arson, started in the big room to the right of the front door. Angelika is pretty calm, on the whole. She assumes she's staying with you for the time being. Hope that's all right. I'll ring again when I know more, shall I?' And he shut off.

Stewart was a man in a million.

The next message was from Thomas, worried about her, wanting to make sure she'd ring him if he was needed, saying that if so, he'd come straight back.

She'd manage, wouldn't she? Somehow. She'd ring him back in a little while. It was no good ringing when he was in one of his important meetings, or lectures or whatever they were.

The next message was from a woman whose voice Ellie didn't recognize. Ah, Betsey, from Harmony in the Home; Ellie had forgotten all about her. She must be the ‘blondie' who Rose said had been calling round. Well, it looked as if Betsey would have another big project on, when the Hooper house was renovated. But what about the job Ellie had asked her to do, of reorganizing their own house to accommodate Thomas's family?

‘Mrs Quicke, I've called round a couple of times with some suggestions and estimates, but I gather you're in the thick of a domestic drama at the moment. I'll leave the material with you, and perhaps you'll get back to me when you've a minute.'

Nice woman. Understanding. Put that on one side for the moment. Thomas was right; his family would have to go to a hotel.

Ellie riffled through the pile of mail which Pat had left for her, but couldn't concentrate on any of it.

Vera appeared, flushed and laughing, with a cup of tea and some sandwiches on a tray. ‘Mikey thinks you're hungry. Do you have time to wait till we can cook you something?'

‘I wish I did, but I haven't. Bless you, and welcome home. I know it's chaotic at the moment, but—'

‘It's just fine, and Mikey's loving it. Sit down, and eat up.'

Ellie relaxed, smiling; and obeyed.

‘Now,' said Vera, ‘Rose and I have made out a shopping list, and I'm going to show Rose how to order online, if you don't object. I'll use the laptop Edgar gave me and set it up in the kitchen for the moment, though no doubt I can find a better place later on.'

Ellie grinned and flapped her hand at Vera as she bit into an enormous ham and tomato sandwich. ‘Mmflm. Soon . . . be able . . . top floor?'

‘Yes, Mikey's up there now with his scooter. I hope you don't mind. He needs to burn off some energy. It's so light and airy I'm sure we'll be very happy to live up there when it's got running water and some heating. I've told him he's got to put those books back in the library where's he set up his laptop, but he just stared at me, so I dare say we'll have a spot of bother about that. Is there something else you'd like me to do?'

‘Mm.' Ellie swallowed. She was so hungry she was eating far too fast and was going to get indigestion. ‘Thomas wants to move his office into the library, which will give him more room and be more convenient in every way. Do you think you could start on that? If Mikey doesn't object?'

‘He'd better not. Now, shall I get you another cuppa?'

Ellie shook her head, reaching for the sheet of information Mr Abel had got for her. Poor man; she did hope he'd be cleared of wrongdoing soon. But there, her solicitor could be trusted to get him out.

Evan's son. Well, a Philip Hooper appeared to be living at an address up Greenford way. There was a landline phone number, but no mobile. She dialled. Nobody picked up, and there was no answerphone so she couldn't leave a message.

Next, Ellie braced herself to ring the first Mrs Hooper. The code number was not for anywhere south of London like Brighton in Sussex, as Freya had thought, but for an Inner London area. This was borne out by the Knightsbridge address, which was within spitting distance of Harrods. Upmarket, or what?

‘Mrs Hooper? Mrs Monique Hooper? You don't know me, but . . .' Ellie tried to explain without giving too much away, or causing panic. Best to say only that Evan had been taken ill and Ellie was trying to sort out the resultant confusion. ‘Would it be possible to see Mrs Hooper?'

A cool alto voice. ‘Very well. I'm at home this afternoon but will be going out this evening. Would you care to drop by within the hour?'

Mrs Quicke would. But first Mrs Quicke had to take her husband's advice and – not before time – dress up a bit. A fine cashmere and wool sweater over a heather tweed skirt. Her best ankle boots, the ones that were a bit difficult to get into, and a jacket. A gold bracelet. A pity, but she seemed to have mislaid her pearls. Oh dear. Well, no time to look for them now. Ring for a cab. Her bill with the cab company this month was going to be something horrendous.

She could hear Vera shouting, ‘No, Mikey!' as she went down the stairs. He was probably objecting to Thomas moving into the library. Well, tough. Ellie bit her lip. Should she interfere? Er, no. She hadn't time. The cab was at the door. It was still raining. Up with the umbrella, and out goes she.

Fiends take them. Where are they? It's as if they've dropped off the face of the earth, but however far they go, wherever it is they've taken shelter, they can't get away from me.

The den of iniquity is uninhabitable. Good.

Our progenitor has been whipped off to hospital and is being kept in for tests, no visitors allowed, or so the woman on the switchboard at the hospital says. Could the wicked stepmother have removed him from there and hidden him in a hotel?

They've taught me to be logical. If there's a puzzle, find a way to solve it. This one's called Hunt the Angel. I don't hate her, particularly. She's pretty enough, if you like that kind of thing. Pretty stupid, too. If she hadn't been contaminated by him, I might have let her live.