Murder in House (18 page)

Ellie considered what had been said and what had been left unsaid. She didn't think Mia had handed over her belongings to these girls out of the goodness of her heart. Earrings, handbag, an expensive T-shirt, a leather jacket. No. But it wouldn't help to say they'd robbed a girl who'd come to them for help, because after their own fashion, they'd kept her safe. So far.

The blonde spoke up next. ‘The man – her brother – is saying he will give a hundred pounds to find Mia. Malgosia says “no”, but she needs the money.'

And so, thought Ellie, do you. Each one of you – except perhaps for Jackie – has already considered what they could do with that money and soon one of you will convince herself that telling the man is justifiable. Mia's head drooped, but she said nothing.

Sharp-face said, with care, ‘Of course we wouldn't tell, not for such a small sum.'

In other words, if Ellie offered a larger bribe, they'd keep quiet. Sharp-face couldn't be trusted not to give Mia away, so Mia must leave. Besides, Mia needed a doctor and possibly a psychiatrist. She needed a safe place to hide until she could be nursed back to health. At that moment Ellie wondered, grimly, exactly what the girl had been through, and whether she would ever recover.

Ellie considered that the girl had witnessed Lloyd's death and been beaten to prevent her telling what she'd seen. Or . . . no. Ellie didn't want to think what else might have happened to the girl.

The blonde said, ‘He also say that he will come back and find where we live, and if we have been telling lies, and do know where she is, then he will not pay the money, but he will punish us.'

Jackie pleaded with Ellie. ‘So now you will take Mia?'

‘About time, too,' said Sharp-face. ‘We don't want a visit from her brother, do we?'

More nods. At least they were agreed on that.

Ellie tried to think through various possible courses of action. Yes, she must remove the girl, but where to? A doctor first? Yes, but what then? If Ellie took Mia to Accident and Emergency at the nearest hospital they'd admit her, of course, but would want her to see a psychiatrist. If she continued to be silent, they'd transfer her to a psychiatric unit. Would that be in her best interests? Possibly.

But would she be safe there? If she was admitted under her own name, how long would it be before the family discovered her whereabouts, and what action would they take?

Suppose Ellie took her to the police first? But unless Mia talked, the police wouldn't be able to help her.

Consider what the brother would do. Stepbrother. He was not her actual brother. At some point – maybe even that evening – he was going to find out where the girls were living and come looking for Mia. Would the girls deny they knew Mia? They might. But more probably one or other of them would tell him that a Mrs Quicke had taken the girl.

And then he'd come after Ellie. Ouch. Ellie had visions of mayhem back at her house; of frail little Rose being pushed around, of bold Thomas defending his womenfolk with a walking stick. Thomas was a big bear of a man but no longer that young, or particularly fit. No, no. She couldn't risk either of them being put into danger. So she couldn't take Mia home with her.

She would phone Thomas and ask for advice. Ouch. She remembered that he had some meeting up in town that day and wouldn't be back till late. Who else could she ask? Ah, but she only had that wretched iPhone on her at the moment, and if she asked to use one of the girls' mobiles, the call could easily be traced and the information handed to the stepbrother. What on earth was she to do?

Ask for help, of course. Well, she hardly had time for a proper prayer, but perhaps, when you were in desperate straits, it didn't matter what words you used.

Help, Lord
. It was the best she could do.

TEN

M
ia seemed catatonic. Ellie lifted the girl's chin to make eye contact. Mia's eyes were like pebbles: dark and unrevealing. She was not focusing. She was in a faraway place, driven there by terror.

Ellie made her voice soft. ‘Ursula asked me to find you. She's really worried about you.'

The brown eyes flickered into life for a second, and then the eyelids dropped.

Had there been a slight lessening of tension?

Ellie said, ‘If one of you can lend me a mobile phone, I'll order a minicab and take Mia away. At some point the police will have to be involved, but more immediately, I think you should prepare yourselves for a visit from Mia's stepbrother, who sounds a very nasty piece of work indeed.'

The blonde had a bright idea. ‘So we say it is not Mia, but a cousin from Poland, who was with us for a few days only.'

‘That might work. But suppose he catches sight of something of Mia's: a credit card, a scarf, a piece of jewellery? I suggest you pack up everything that might give him a lead to Mia, and I'll take it away with her. We don't want him getting the idea that you've been stealing from her, do we? Or he might start on you too. As and when the police come round, they'll be looking for traces of her, too, won't they?'

Trying not to see the dismay and fluster that greeted her speech, Ellie got to her feet, and beckoned Jackie away from the others.

Jackie was hiding a smile. She said loudly, ‘We can put everything back in Mia's bag, can't we? And find her some nice clothes to wear?'

Ellie looked out of the window. They were high up here, over the shops. Even in the dark, the Avenue had plenty of people in it, coming and going from the Co-op and the pharmacy below. She couldn't see a really expensive car anywhere, which didn't mean, of course, the brother wasn't lurking in a side street.

Ellie said, ‘Jackie, do you know what time of the month it may be for Mia?'

Jackie's breathing quickened. ‘She has not said, or asked for . . . Mother of God. You think . . .?'

‘Let's hope not. Can you make sure nothing of hers is left behind?'

‘Mia had some money, not a lot, but I think—'

‘Forget it. But if someone has been using her credit cards—'

Jackie looked across at Sharp-face, who was bad-temperedly removing her things from Mia's designer handbag. ‘I am stupid. I do not think.'

‘You have done wonders, but now Mia must see a doctor. When the police come, tell them the truth. When the brother comes—'

‘I can lie but the others may not.' A shrug.

‘If he makes himself unpleasant, you must refer him to the police and say they know where she is.'

‘I can do that, but—'

‘I know. You need a number where you can reach me.' Ellie took out her diary, tore a blank page out from the notes section and wrote on it. ‘Here, this is my home number. Leave a message if I'm not in.'

Jackie produced a mobile phone. ‘You want a minicab? Where do I say they take you?'

‘I will give them the address when we leave.'

Ellie thought,
Good try, Jackie, but I'm not so stupid as to let you know where I'm taking Mia
. And indeed, where could she take her? Ellie tried to think. She needed a place where she could use a phone that nobody could overhear. The offices of the Trust and Stewart's lettings office would be closing about now. She had keys to both offices – back at home. But not on her.

She couldn't involve Stewart, with his precious family. Nor Felicity with baby Mel. Too many hostages to fortune. She could ask Roy . . . but his office was next door to her own home, and using the phone there would be leading the stepbrother straight to her front door.

The blonde led Mia into the room, wearing a mid-blue sweater, jeans and her own leather jacket. The clothes were her own, but she'd lost weight since they'd been bought. The leather handbag hung from one shoulder. She wasn't wearing any make-up. So where had her make-up gone? On to the blonde girl's face?

Forget the make-up, thought Ellie. It's not worth worrying about. Sharp-face tugged in a good quality suitcase on wheels.

‘Credit cards, evidence of identity, driving licence?' asked Ellie.

Sharp-face grimaced. ‘All there, except money for our trouble. We earned that.'

‘So you did,' said Ellie, trying not to think about misuse of credit cards. Well, let the police deal with that later.

Jackie was looking out of the window. ‘The minicab is here, I think.'

Ellie collected her bags of shopping, gave one bag to Mia to carry and then took it back again. The girl wasn't capable of walking in a straight line to the door, let alone carrying shopping. Jackie took Mia's hand from Sharp-face and, trailing luggage, they went down to the cab together.

‘Where to, Mrs Quicke?' The cabbie knew her, of course.

‘The police station,' said Ellie, and waved goodbye to Jackie, who had registered the destination, of course. But then, Ellie had given them her name and telephone number right at the start, hadn't she? Easily traced.

Once round the corner, Ellie leaned forward to address the driver. ‘I've changed my mind. Can you take me to my old house? You know where I used to live?'

‘Will do.' He made a U-turn and took the shortest way. The house was lit up, with workmen putting the finishing touches to the interior. The driver helped her out with her shopping and Mia's suitcase, and volunteered to see them safely into the house before he drove off. As Ellie guided Mia down the driveway, she noticed that the 2Ds Estate Agency board had been put back up again. Well, she couldn't bother about that now.

A painter clattered down the stairs, accompanied by the sound of muzak from his transistor. ‘Everything all right, missus? We're pretty well done here, now. Just tidying up, a coupla things left for tomorrow morning. Want a look before we go? There's been someone looking around today. It should let pretty quickly, eh?'

Ellie looked at the space on the floor where her telephone used to be, and caught her breath. It was no longer there. What was she to do now? Ask the painter if she might use his mobile? She couldn't trust him not to talk if the stepbrother tracked him down. She made herself smile. ‘Everything looks perfect. Are you on your way, then? I'll drop the latch when I go. Just wanted to use the bathroom before . . . you know?'

He laughed, called to his mate that they must be off now, collected his radio and an armful of dust sheets, and made it to the outside world.

Mia stood where she'd been left by the door. Ellie gently urged her to sit on the bottom stair, and swiftly went through the downstairs rooms, hoping against hope that somewhere a telephone might have been left, to be connected at a later date. No telephones anywhere. She supposed Stewart would have considered her old phone obsolete and decided that a tenant would want the latest cordless gadget.

There was nothing for it but to ask to use Kate's phone next door. As they'd drawn up outside the house, Ellie had spotted Kate's car already parked in their driveway, with her husband's close behind it. Red-headed and foxy-faced, Armand was head of department at a local secondary school, although Kate was the real breadwinner in the household, or would have been if she didn't have to pay for a day nanny every time she was needed to sort out someone else's financial tangles.

Kate and Armand were the proud parents of two noisy toddlers, whom Ellie could hear shouting even through the party wall. Ellie reflected there were compensations to one's only grandchild having passed beyond the screaming stage.

Ellie decided she wouldn't tell Kate and Armand the extent of her problem; just ask to use their phone for five minutes. She gathered her shopping together, and pulled Mia to her feet. ‘I'm going to let us out the back way into the garden and then cross into next door to use their phone. If I take your suitcase, can you manage, because I'm going to turn out the lights in here as we leave?'

Ellie helped Mia out of the back door, down the steps and on to the path.

There was a lamp in the alleyway that shone across the bottom of the gardens thereabouts so it was possible to see where one was going, if one took care where one put one's feet. Mia stumbled and Ellie, burdened with shopping and Mia's suitcase, was unable to help her except with a rushed prayer, and a word of encouragement.

‘Not far. Can you see the gate between this house and the next? It's a bit overgrown, but we used it a lot when I lived here.'

The gate squeaked and caught on the ground, but finally Ellie got it open, only to find herself floodlit from the house. A sensor had triggered a light on the patio next door. Mia was crying, without sound.

A door opened, and Armand came out, carrying a hockey stick. ‘Who's there?'

‘Only me,' said Ellie, humping her shopping up the steps, and then turning to give a hand to Mia. ‘Orphans of the storm and all that. May we come in for five minutes and use your phone?'