Murder My Neighbour (11 page)

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

M
ikey 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 . . . ?'

‘I don't think. I want to check. By the way, did you happen to notice where I put the notes I made about the Pryce family?'

‘Pet put them on one side for you. Are you going to ring the police, then?'

Ellie shuddered. She could imagine what Ears would say.
That silly woman, wasting our time. Of course Mrs Pryce changed her mind. That's what women do.
‘I don't know, Vera. Thomas, what do you think?'

‘If her car were still in the garage, I'd be inclined to think something had happened to her before she left. But if she drove away under her own steam . . . Perhaps she liked the look of a hotel en route and decided to stay there awhile? Vera, do you know what make of car she has, and the licence number?'

Vera shrugged. ‘She changes her car every year, gets the latest, automatic, satnav and so on. I think she said it was a Toyota. Would that be right?'

Ellie was struck with a thought. ‘It wasn't egg yellow, was it?'

‘Toyotas are not egg yellow,' said Thomas, through his teeth.

‘It was silver,' said Vera. ‘With wide doors. It was easy to get in and out of which mattered to her because of her knees. I don't remember the licence number. She couldn't, either. She was cross with herself because she could have asked them to transfer her old number to her new car, only she forgot.'

Thomas gave Vera a look which meant he despaired of women who couldn't remember licence numbers and makes of car.

Ellie gave her a look, too, but hers was one of sympathy.

Thomas held back impatience with the pair of them. ‘Well, it's not much use informing the police her car is missing, if we don't have the licence details and make. I agree, she ought to have let someone know where she is. Perhaps we should see if her daughter knows the licence number, before we send up alarm signals?'

Ellie arranged to meet Vera next morning at ten, and they went their several ways: Thomas and Ellie to spend some time on the phone, and Vera to take her struggling, wriggling son back home for his tea.

The air was close, threatening a thunderstorm.

When Ellie got back home, she found that Rose had made no attempt to leave the kitchen, not even to visit the conservatory. Ah well.

Thomas said he'd do some investigating via the phone book, so Ellie took the opportunity to call the office of her cleaning company. It was after hours, but she left a message to say, with apologies for disrupting the system, that she'd arranged for Vera to work for her privately the following morning so could they get someone else to partner Pet.