Murder in Mind (30 page)

‘By which reasoning, Freya would follow. Do you think your daughter ought to be included on the list? And where would I come in?'

‘Possibly second to last?'

‘Why Angelika next, rather than Freya?'

‘Because Angelika was thinking of leaving him, anyway. That marriage is dead and cold, and Angelika has no intention of trying to revive it. She wants out, and I'm sure she'll go as soon as she can come to some sort of financial agreement with him for a quick divorce. Freya, on the other hand, intends to stick around in the vain hope that her father will eventually come to love her and allow her to go into his business.'

‘A vain hope, indeed. He's only interested in sons.'

‘Yet Freya would make a worthy successor to him. Then there's my daughter Diana, who is pregnant with a baby boy and aims to be the next Mrs Hooper.'

Monique pulled a face. ‘A boy? Lucky old her. Does she realize the risk she's running?'

‘She's probably up to his weight, even as you were. I'm worried by his use of the word “contaminated”. Does he hate his father so much that he wants to destroy anyone Evan has ever loved?'

‘You're overestimating Evan's capacity for love. Shall we substitute the words “cared for”? Or would it be more accurate to say “anyone Evan has ever owned”?'

‘He never owned you.'

‘That's true. It was a one-night stand for me, entered into out of curiosity and the fact that he was something of a stallion in those days. It's turned into a nightmare for everyone.' A glance at the clock. ‘I'm due to meet friends at Covent Garden in an hour's time, though how much I'll be able to concentrate on the opera, I don't know.'

Ellie took the hint and rose to go. ‘You'll take some precautions? Not accept chocolates sent to you through the post, not get into the first taxi that passes by?'

‘I will. And you'll keep in touch?'

Ellie nodded, agreeably surprised to find that she liked Monique and wished her well. ‘I'll give you my address and phone number, just in case. May I make a suggestion? When all this is over, and provided we are all still in the land of the living . . . would you consider taking Freya into your business?'

Monique's rather hard expression melted, and she laughed, full-throated. ‘That would indeed be a suitable revenge on Evan. Thank you for the suggestion. I will certainly take it into consideration.'

Tuesday early evening

It was completely dark by the time Ellie left Monique's flat. She took the underground back to Ealing Broadway, caught a bus to the Avenue and walked back home from there. It gave her time to think.

She didn't much like her thoughts.

Angelika. Freya. Monique. Evan. Which was next?

Or was it Diana?

Diana was no fool, and had probably understood the threat to the Hooper family quicker than most, which meant she knew she was on the target list.

Ellie didn't want to suspect her daughter of duplicity on this occasion, but it did occur to her to wonder whether the heating in Diana's flat was really on the blink or not. Had she taken refuge at her mother's house because she felt she'd be better protected there?

Home at last. But no rest for Ellie.

Midge greeted her at the front door, rubbing around her legs, indicating that he hadn't been fed for ever. A lie, of course, but Ellie picked him up and took him into the kitchen to give him a few mouthfuls of cat food.

Rose and Vera greeted her with the busy, absorbed expressions of chefs in the midst of preparing a feast for a hundred. Do Not Disturb.

There was no sign of Mikey but a rumble rumble rumble from above indicated that he'd taken himself off to the top floor and was expressing his displeasure at something by making a lot of noise. Vera had said something about him and his scooter, hadn't she? Well, as Vera didn't seem worried, Ellie decided to forget about Mikey for the moment.

There was a message on the answerphone from Angelika, asking if Ellie could collect her from the Hooper house. Nothing from Stewart or from Freya. Another pile of mail.

Ellie riffled through the letters and messages. There was a fat package from Betsey, of Harmony in the Home, containing folders with samples of fabrics and pictures of furniture for different rooms . . . Ellie shoved them aside.

One piece of paper floated to the floor.

Ellie stared at it. A somewhat dog-eared photocopy of a clown handing out biscuits and balloons. The missing picture!

But how . . .? She turned it over and saw that she'd written notes for Betsey on the back of the photograph of the clown. Ah. So that's where it had gone?

Her hand went to the phone. Should she ring Ms Milburn to say the picture had turned up? Of course, it was getting late, and the girl had probably gone home by now and in any case would be more interested in the fire and questioning poor Mr Abel . . . which reminded Ellie that she'd set her own solicitor on to the case and . . .

She wanted to chuck all her papers into the air and let them fall where they would.

Only, she knew that she would then have to get down on her hands and knees and pick them all up again. Oh, her knees!

She sighed, picked up the phone and left a message for Ms Milburn. ‘I've found the missing photo of the clown, and I've got a possible address for him.' She wondered if she should voice her suspicions about the identity of the clown. But no – she didn't have enough evidence. Feelings and suspicions are not legal tender.

She put her phone down, and it rang under her hand.

Diana. ‘Mother, where have you been?'

‘Out. I had to—'

‘Well, never mind that now. I'm ringing to say that I'll be going back to the hospital in a little while, and I won't leave till I've seen Evan asleep. So—'

‘Have the police released Mr Abel?'

‘I can't think why, but yes, they have. I shot him straight out again, of course, stood over him while he collected his stuff and saw him off the premises.'

‘He's innocent, you know.'

‘You know more than I do. I'm glad to be rid of him.'

‘Mrs Lavery is no substitute.'

‘She'll do. Did you tell her to contact the insurance people for Evan's house? There's nothing here about it.'

‘No, there wouldn't be. I've discovered that the house is still owned by the first Mrs Hooper, Monique, and that Evan merely rents it from her. Monique will contact the insurers about the fire.'

‘What? I don't believe it! He never said anything to me about that.' Unwelcome news. Evan obviously hadn't broadcast the fact that he didn't actually own the house. Diana recovered quickly enough. ‘Well, be that as it may, I'm just ringing to put you in the picture. Someone will have to wait up for me tonight, as I forget to get a front door key from Rose before I left.'

‘I think you'd better go to a hotel. You'll be safe enough there.'

‘Are you refusing me a bed for the night?'

‘Yes,' said Ellie, wondering how she dared. ‘I've got a full house. There's no beds to spare. I'll have your things packed up and leave them at the hospital for you when I collect Freya, who's been sitting with Evan all day and must be exhausted.'

‘You can't—'

‘Watch me.' Ellie put down the phone with care, feeling guilty, triumphant and ashamed all at once. Had she really dared to throw her daughter out of the house?

Was she going to regret it? Well, probably. But she really did not have a bed to spare, and Diana was perfectly capable of finding herself a hotel.

Ellie ordered a cab to collect her in twenty minutes and went upstairs to put Diana's things back into her carry-on bag. Checking the time on her watch, she darted into the kitchen to touch base with Vera and Rose before she left. The whirring, banging, and bumping continued above. Ellie looked a question.

‘Leave him be,' said Vera. ‘He threw a tantrum because you didn't take him with you this afternoon, so now he's got his scooter up there and is trying to make a point by running it round and round on the top floor. He refused to eat any tea, but I suppose he'll come down when he's hungry.'

Ellie knew she was being a coward, but fled. Bringing Mikey into the household was not going to prove an unmixed blessing.

The cab driver dropped Ellie off at the main entrance to the hospital. She said she wouldn't be long and arranged for him to circle the block till she came out again.

Evan had been moved into a side ward on one of the top floors. Nice and clean. Ellie was afraid she might have been refused admission to see him until visiting time but, when she explained the position to the nurse in charge, she was let in a few minutes early. Evan was hooked up to all sorts of machinery and seemed to be asleep. Freya was sitting beside him, holding one of his hands.

Ellie beckoned the girl to come out into the main ward to speak to her. Freya looked exhausted, moved like a sleepwalker. It was a trying situation for an adult, and the girl was only fifteen – or was it sixteen?

‘How is he?'

‘They're keeping an eye on him because he seems very confused still. They said they might have to have an operation to relieve the pressure on his brain. They keep waking him up and testing his reflexes. He's mostly asleep, and when he's awake he vomits and complains of a terrible headache. One of his eyes looks funny.'

Concussion.

‘He's in good hands and you've done a sterling job, keeping him calm today. Now, Diana's on her way here. Can you put this tote bag of hers in Evan's cupboard and then come home with me? There's a good meal waiting, and after that you must go straight to bed.'

‘I'll leave when she comes.'

‘You'll leave now, with me.' Ellie wondered at herself, giving orders left, right and centre, but it seemed to work, probably because Freya was too tired to object.

Ellie continued to be on edge. Worrying at the problem of the Hooper family. Thinking over what she'd learned, what she'd been told. Some lies, here and there? Mm. Not many. A picture was emerging, but would the police take Philip's strange ideas seriously?

Perhaps most parents had been through times when they'd wanted to beat the living daylights out of their children, but nearly all managed to restrain themselves. Ditto the other way round. However angry you might be with a parent or a sibling, it was unusual to go to the lengths of murdering them.

Another thought: had Philip been responsible for knocking his father out before he started the fire at the house? Or after? Or, had Evan's fall been an accident?

Ellie dropped Freya off at home and took the cab on to the Hooper house, in order to rescue Angelika and see for herself what was happening there. She asked the cab driver to park a little way down the road and to wait for her . . . just in case a reporter or two might still be hanging around.

Thankfully, the rain had died away, though clouds still obscured the moon.

She couldn't see any reporters, either outside the house or lurking in the garden. She stopped by the entrance to the drive to survey the desolation of the burned house, illumined by the street lights in the road. And gagged. The stink was appalling. Everything in sight was black and wet, saturated with the water used to dowse the flames.

Would the whole house have to be pulled down and rebuilt, or was it still solid enough to be restored to what it had once been? All the windows facing the road had been boarded over, as had the front door. The roof seemed intact, so maybe the fire hadn't taken that much of a hold before the fire engines got there.

A large white van sporting the logo of Ellie's trust was parked in the driveway, together with Stewart's car and two others which she didn't recognize, probably belonging to workmen.

Angelika was sitting in the back of Stewart's car, but got out when she saw Ellie. ‘Can we go now?'

‘In a minute. I must have a word with Stewart first.' Ellie made her way round the house, taking care not to trip over anything as she skirted the kitchen, the windows of which had also been boarded over. Stewart had run some electricity cables around the house from his van, to power floodlights at the back of the house. It wasn't as bright as day, but it enabled the workmen to see well enough to do their job.

The conservatory was intact. The broken door had been boarded over.

A couple of Stewart's maintenance men appeared in front of her, wearing hard hats and carrying tools. ‘Hey, there, Mrs Quicke. Nearly done. You're after the old man?'

She nodded. ‘You've managed to make all safe?'

‘One more to go. Himself's round the back.'

She found Stewart checking over a back door which was hanging open. The upstairs windows here looked all right, but there was a familiar wash of muddy water around her feet. And that smell!

Stewart looked tired. ‘Nearly done. The front of the house isn't safe to enter so the firemen broke in from the back to fight the flames from this side, too. This is the last door we'll have to board over. The windows downstairs are just cracked, and it may be safe to leave them as is. Then home and a shower before supper.'

‘Can the house be saved?'

He shrugged. ‘Hard to say. I spoke to the firemen before they left. One lot had stayed overnight to make sure no more fires broke out. He said no one should try to go in to the front until they'd worked out if it were arson or not – though he thinks it was – and a surveyor has given the all clear. There's a risk of ceilings falling in there, and the staircase has almost burned through.

‘The electricity's out, of course. Fortunately, the fire didn't reach the gas boiler or the whole lot would have gone up. The house was solidly built, and from what I've seen, the main structure is sound enough. My guess is that everything in the rooms at the front is a write-off while at the back the damage is from nearly all from smoke and water. Mrs Hooper was dying to get into the house to rescue some of her belongings, but her bedroom was at the front so I couldn't let her.'