Murder in House (7 page)

‘He went and did it, anyway?'

Felicity nodded. Was she going to cry? ‘He wants to, and I can't talk sense into him.'

‘Your own money's safe?' Felicity had been left a wealthy woman when her first, extremely unpleasant, husband had died, and her affairs were now managed by Kate, Ellie's neighbour at the old house. Kate was much younger than Ellie, of course, but was something of a financial wizard and the age difference didn't seem to matter.

Felicity said, ‘Roy has made enquiries about selling or mortgaging the block of flats that Miss Quicke left him in her will, so that he can buy into Prior's Place. I think he's mad! He says the flats in Prior's Place will sell like hot cakes and he'll be able to pay the mortgage off in no time, but of course nothing is moving because of the recession. Also, a couple of people who were going to buy into Prior's Place have backed out at the last minute, and the gym's not making a penny yet, and I have the most awful feeling that it's going to be a white elephant and Roy will lose his inheritance and everything he's worked for.'

Ellie refrained, with difficulty, from saying that in her opinion no bank should trust Roy with a credit card for over fifty pounds. He was a kind and generous man, a loving husband and father and a talented architect, but in money matters he had no sense of danger.

‘It's like . . . like they're cursed,' said Felicity, in a rush. She blushed. ‘Of course I know that's nonsense, but when I think about that place, it's like a dark cloud came down from the penthouse that night and it hasn't moved, hanging over everything. I do totally understand why people don't want anything to do with it.'

‘You were at the Grand Opening when the boy died?'

Felicity shuddered. ‘All dolled up, four-inch heels, wearing the latest fashion with a skirt well above my knees – which in this weather is stupid, but I did it because Roy wanted me to look nice and smile at all the important people who might want him to work on something else. So of course I did just that. By eleven o'clock most people had gone. I was tired and wanted to go home, because of getting up in the night with Mel. Only, Roy wanted to stay to the end, so of course we did. There was this horrible man who kept putting his arm around me and squeezing. But that's nothing, really, is it? I mean, not compared to . . .'

‘No. Did you know the boy who died?'

‘I saw his picture in the paper after, but there were quite a few young people, not waitresses but college students, friends of the young Priors, showing would-be clients around. Someone said – I think it was Caroline's husband, he works for the Town Hall you know, and it was nice to see a friendly face among all those important people – anyway, he said the young things were there as sucker bait, and I did see what he meant, because they were concentrating on the middle-aged and elderly people with money to spend.

‘The party started off in the Health Club in the basement and the show flat just above it. Lots of important people, councillors, everyone. Speeches, you know. I got stuck with this man who . . . I've told you about him already, haven't I? All I know is that after eleven, after the bigwigs had gone, someone said the young people had gone upstairs to continue the party in the penthouse suite. Apparently they were drinking heavily, things got out of hand and this lad went over.

‘It had been such a good party, too, until that happened. I mean, the building is fabulous, and I can see why Roy thought it would be a good investment. Only now he's so determined to have his own way and won't see sense, saying what do I know about it because I've never had to handle big sums, and of course that's true because my first husband did it all, and now Kate. I think he's made verbal promises, maybe even signed something, and I believe he knows he's being stupid, but won't admit it.'

‘Just like a man.'

‘I asked Kate if she could help. She said she'd tried to steer some City money into the project ages ago, after Miss Quicke had said she wasn't interested in it, but she stopped when Roy told her he could fund it himself. She says it's unlikely Roy will get a mortgage on reasonable terms for his flats at present, and if he does try to sell them he's likely to lose on the deal.' She took a deep breath. ‘You aren't bothered by my silly notions about a jinx, are you? So would you get your Trust to consider buying into Prior's Place, to keep things moving in the right direction?'

Ellie had seen this coming, and didn't like the sound of it. Her Trust fund was meant for charitable purposes, not to bail out rash relatives. Besides, the other members of the Trust would never agree to such a scheme. ‘What does Kate advise?'

‘She says I can't raise enough to help Roy out at the moment without selling shares at a huge loss, and selling my shares would reduce my income drastically. I mean, I will if all else fails, but . . . you see the problem?'

‘Don't sell,' advised Ellie. ‘Not yet, anyway. I'll have a word with Kate and with the other members of the Trust to see what can be done, but I can't promise anything.'

‘Bless you. If only that young man hadn't thought he could fly! I'm sure the flats would be selling if he hadn't.'

Ellie asked Felicity to ring for a cab for her. It was still raining, she had shopping bags to carry, and it was just that bit further to her ‘old' house, than to the ‘new'. Or rather, her own ‘old' house – the one in which she and her first husband had lived for so many years – had been built in the 1920s, long after the Edwardian grandeur of the Quicke family house in which she was now living, but the words ‘new' and ‘old' didn't always mean exactly what you intended to say, did they?

She was grateful that at least Felicity owned her own house outright, which was a blessing in view of Roy's imprudent financial dealings. Theirs had been a love match and remained one. The marriage was solid, and it was only Roy's flights of fancy that cast an uncertain glow over their future. How could Roy's finances be saved? And how could he be persuaded never to risk his capital again in future?

Miss Quicke had managed to keep him on an even keel by backing one or two of his enterprises with her own money, and refusing to consider others. At her death he'd been left without a guiding hand, and look at the result! It was a puzzle, and Ellie had no idea how to solve it.

Well, there was one other little job she could manage before she went home. When her cab came, she asked the driver to take the road past the library at the end of the Avenue, and slow down when they came to the first low block of flats. Had Mrs Collins described Ursula's flat correctly? The sooner Ellie got rid of the ring, the better. She asked the driver to wait while she stumbled through the rain to the first of the communal doors, and checked the names on the intercom system. Yes, there was the name Belton. She rang the bell but there was no reply. Mrs Belton must be out, at work, shopping, whatever. She was on the point of returning to the cab when a disembodied, rather hoarse, voice said, ‘Yes?'

‘Mrs Belton? My name's Ellie Quicke. Would it be possible for you to spare me a minute? I have something your daughter left with me.'

‘My daughter's not here.'

‘No, I realize that.'

‘Oh, very well.' The door latch clicked open.

‘Just a minute. Got to get my bags from the minicab.' Ellie put her handbag down to stop the door closing and went back to the cab to fetch her shopping. Since she'd never learned to drive, she used the minicab agency regularly, and kept a monthly account with the firm. With some difficulty she hauled her shopping bags out of the cab and through the front door into the foyer.

A tall, well-built woman held the first door on the left open for Ellie, smothering a cough in a man-sized tissue. At the moment her hair – blonde going grey – was lifeless, but it had been recently well-cut and tinted. Ellie recognized the drawn, greyish look of the skin, the lack of make-up, the reddened nose. Clearly Mrs Belton was yet another victim of the prevalent feverish cold. The down-turned mouth might also be a result of the cold, or it might be a permanent indication of Mrs Belton's attitude to life.

Ellie was ushered through a tiny hall into a square, all-purpose living room. Neat and tidy, the furnishings were a muted symphony of creams and greens. The furniture was not new but pleasantly functional, with magazines and papers neatly aligned on a coffee table. One or two bits of pewter, some Bristol blue glass, a bowl of daffodils, a couple of photographs of a young Ursula in silver frames. Nothing outstanding, except for two large pictures on the walls – or rather, one collage in blues and greens of an underwater scene, and a portrait of her hostess in pastels. Both showed considerable talent.

‘Ursula's?' Ellie peered at both. Was she beginning to need glasses, or was the daylight fading already?

‘Do be careful.' There was a snap in her voice. ‘One of your shopping bags is about to split.'

‘Oh dear.' Ellie let them down on to the floor. ‘I am so stupid. I came out without thinking about shopping, and then, as one does . . .'

The woman smothered another cough and produced a stout plastic bag from the next room along, which must be the kitchen. ‘Take this.'

Ellie took stock of her hostess as she transferred her shopping to a stronger bag. Mrs Belton was a different type from Mrs Collins. Also fifty plus but looking younger. Better educated. A slightly self-pitying approach to life? None of Ursula's bright-eyed, manipulative intelligence, but no fool either.

‘Thank you,' said Ellie.

Mrs Belton didn't offer refreshments but let herself down on to a chair, indicating that Ellie do so too. ‘I've seen you before, haven't I? At church fêtes? Someone said you'd given a local Holiday Club money for a children's outing. Didn't you marry our last vicar, the one who's just left?'

‘That's so. Your daughter didn't mention that we met yesterday?'

Mrs Belton shook her head. The downturn of her mouth appeared to be a fixture. ‘She went back to university early yesterday, leaving me barely on my feet and hardly able to fend for myself. Not that I'm complaining, you understand.'

She was complaining, of course. Ellie sought for a tissue and blew her nose.

Mrs Belton said, ‘You have something of hers? You're lucky to find me at home. I should have been at work today, but I've been laid out with flu.'

‘It takes it out of you, doesn't it?'

The woman bridled with importance. ‘I'm a speech therapist. Mustn't risk passing on germs.'

Ellie blew her nose again. ‘Ursula didn't go straight back. My husband found her in St Mary's Church—'

‘My daughter doesn't go to church. Hasn't been to church since she was in the Brownies.'

‘I daresay, but let me tell you what happened.' Ellie told the story as she knew it. Mrs Belton sat very still, surprise and some disbelief showing. Even anger. When Ellie came to Ursula's saying, ‘A broken engagement, a murder and a disappearance,' Mrs Belton shook her head. ‘What absolute nonsense! What on earth's got into the girl?'

Ellie said, ‘Let me tell you what happened when I visited Daniel today.' At the end of her recital, she took the ring in its plastic bag out of her coin purse and laid it on the coffee table in front of her.

Mrs Belton looked shocked. ‘Oh no! Oh, how could she!' She stood up with a jerk, to twitch net curtains at the windows into more even folds. The nets were fresh and very white. The room overlooked the road. ‘I can't believe it. They've been engaged for years. They bought that ring on a day outing to Brighton when they'd just left school. Ursula paid for it with some birthday money her grandfather had given her. Far too young, of course, but Daniel's a nice boy, and I was glad to see her settled. So . . . why? After all these years?'

‘I think something happened at a party they were both at in the new year.'

Mrs Belton stared. ‘What do you mean, “something happened”?' Her eyes shifted and she frowned. ‘You mean, the accident? Well, that happened after she left the party. She left early to fly off to America. I should explain that her father and I divorced when she was little; he went back to America and married again. They have two little boys, but he's always kept in touch. He paid for her ticket to go over there for a visit in the new year. Naturally she didn't want to leave me alone, but I'd got a bit of leave coming so went to stay with my sister in Leeds and we had a good time until I started to get a sore throat. I got back just before Ursula and went straight to bed with a temperature. This is my first full day up.'

She started to cough, fished out a lozenge and put it in her mouth. Ellie did the same, saying she'd had the cold, too, and it was a right terror wasn't it?

‘Ursula never catches colds, she doesn't understand how much it pulls you down. She was very good, I suppose, doing the shopping and cooking, not that I fancied anything much. We didn't see Daniel at all, but I wouldn't have expected it. The young always avoid you when you're poorly, don't they?'

Mrs Belton pounded one fist against the other. ‘I should have been the first to know. These young people, they get an idea into their heads and before you know where they are, they're committing themselves to a lifetime of loneliness.'

Like her, did she mean?

Mrs Belton straightened the already neat pile of papers on the coffee table. ‘She ought to have told me, we could have talked it over. How she could have thrown over a nice boy like that! Daniel must be terribly upset. The trouble with Ursula is that she's always been so quick to pass judgment. Ten to one, she's broken it off over something quite trivial.'