Murder in Mind (33 page)

‘Shut up, you! Let me think!' He held his mobile phone high. ‘One touch on this and I blow you to blazes, because you deserve it, all of you!'

Jeannette was weeping. ‘Oh, Philip! No! My darling boy!'

‘Yes; you, too! You covered up for my father when he abused me. You're as bad as my mother!' He was working himself up into a rage.

Jeannette made the mistake of reaching out for him with both arms. ‘Come to Mummy!'

He hit her, backhanded, catching her under her chin. She stumbled backwards and fell. Her eyelids flittered, and then she was still.

Everyone else's eyes switched back to Philip.

‘Ow!' he said, nursing his hand under his arm, but still holding the device in his left hand, steady. Very steady.

If he dropped it . . . If he inadvertently pressed the button . . .

The message was clear. Don't mess with me. Or else.

Heavy breathing all round.

Monique said, ‘For God's sake, Philip!' She sounded more amused than alarmed, but her voice grated and the fingers holding the cigarette shook.

‘You shut up! You sold your soul to him, didn't you! You let him mistreat me night after night in my own bedroom. You never interfered or told him to stop or even came in to comfort me when he'd finished.'

‘What absolute nonsense!'

‘You won't think it's nonsense when you wake up to find yourself in hell! All of you! All contaminated material should be burnt. You, too,' he said, turning on Diana. ‘I didn't realize I could get so many of you all at once, but now I have you're all going to die with me.'

Jeannette moaned. Was she coming round?

He spurned her with his foot. ‘As for you, you said you loved me more than Monique, but you betrayed me, too.'

Dear Lord above! He means it! He's capable of anything because his mind has been twisted out of the true by the lies told him by his so-called therapist. I never thought he'd turn on Jeannette, who did love him more than his birth mother.

Time for me to interfere? And draw his wrath upon myself? Help, Lord! Tell me what to say . . . or do.

Angelika was visibly trembling. ‘Philip? You don't mean it. You can't!'

‘You stupid bitch! Do you really think I care about blue eyes and blonde hair when I know what a stinking, maggot-ridden little soul you've got? You're going to die, like everyone else he's touched.'

‘What about your father?' said Ellie. It seemed he'd momentarily forgotten her presence for he turned on her, taken off balance for a fraction of a second . . . during which Ellie glimpsed something, someone, looking into the room from the garden. A small figure, not an adult. A child. Mikey? Who'd been forbidden to play in the garden and so had gone out to do so the moment his mother's back was turned?

No; there was no one there. The phone in her handbag was ringing. The police ringing her back? No, it couldn't be, because she hadn't ended the call she'd made to them earlier. But . . .

‘I'd better answer it, hadn't I?' she said in a bright tone, reaching into her handbag.

‘Give it here!' He snatched the phone from her hand and threw it across the room. It shattered against a bookcase. Oh. Would the police realize something was amiss? If they did, would they act upon it or think it a prank call?

A phone was still ringing. Ah, but it wasn't hers.

‘Mine, I think,' said Monique. ‘If I don't answer it, they'll be coming in search of me here, as I said I'd be in to work by ten. I'll tell them I'll call back later, shall I?'

Philip bit his lip, undecided.

Monique took out her phone and with a perfectly level voice said, ‘Bit of a crisis here. Can't talk now.' She put it back in her bag. Had she switched it off? Now that Ellie's phone had been destroyed, Monique's might be a lifeline for them all, relaying what was said to the outside world . . . or the police, if Monique had been clever enough to dial their number.

Monique said, ‘Which reminds me; Diana, what time are we supposed to get news about Evan?'

Diana, pale but composed, also made an effort. ‘I was told to ring about noon. He was asking for Philip last night. I don't know if you feel up to visiting him, Philip?'

‘What!' With his free hand he tore off his balaclava, revealing a hot, red face and redder hair. ‘If you don't all do as I say, I'll—'

‘I know,' said Monique, in the soothing tone of mother to toddler. ‘You'll blow us all up. We understand. We really do.' She looked around. ‘Is there an ashtray anywhere?'

‘Do you mind?' said Diana, ‘I'm still throwing up at the slightest thing.'

‘Sorry,' said Monique, taking what looked like a snuff box from her bag and stubbing out her cigarette in it.

Philip lifted the mobile phone into the air. ‘Are you all sitting comfortably? Then I'll—'

‘I don't understand.' Freya, resolute, despite a quaver in her voice. ‘Philip, you are my half-brother. I've never heard anything about you being abused. Are you sure?'

‘Don't pull the innocent. Of course you know. He abused me, over and over.'

Freya shook her head. Her mouth tried to smile. ‘You're joking! No, Philip. He couldn't. He didn't.'

‘All these years I tried to forget, and I did forget. I told myself that he didn't love me because I wasn't as clever as him, and because my mother didn't love me at all. And that's true!' He shot the words at Monique. ‘You never loved me. You only pretended to be ill, so that you wouldn't have to have me with you. And when he, my father, started to do that to me, you covered up for him.'

‘That's not how it was.' Monique had another cigarette out.

‘Please,' said Diana, hand to mouth.

‘Sorry, dear.' Monique put the cigarette away. ‘Have you some peppermints you could take?'

Diana scrabbled in her handbag, produced a tube of mints, and took one.

Philip cried, ‘You never loved me!'

Monique took that on the chin. ‘I tried. By the time I could hold you in my arms you already had a mother, and you made it quite clear that you didn't want me.'

‘You got rid of my real mother.'

‘Make up your mind; is Jean your biological mother, or am I?'

Through his teeth. ‘You got rid of her when I needed her most. I was being bullied at school—'

‘Evan enquired. The teachers said you weren't.'

‘I was! I should know, shouldn't I? It was all your fault. Then Dad said I wasn't suitable to go into the business and had to learn carpentry or gardening or something, anything to get me out of his sight for good. That was fine by me!' He stood up, menacing, phone lifted high. ‘So . . .!'

‘Ooops!' said Ellie. ‘I think Jeannette's coming round. You pack a wicked punch, don't you, Philip? Do you think we could get her up off the floor? She looks so uncomfortable. Freya, can you help me get her on to the settee, poor thing? I don't think she hit her head on anything as she went down, but perhaps we ought to get her checked over.'

‘Leave her be,' said Philip, but he made no move to interfere when Ellie and Freya lifted Jeannette on to the settee, displacing Angelika as they did so.

‘There, now. That's better,' said Ellie, disposing of Jeannette comfortably. ‘Now, Philip, we're all going to sit here quietly and listen to you until we get hungry or thirsty and could do with a cuppa. Did you have any breakfast today?'

‘What . . .?' He didn't appear to know. But Ellie had broken his concentration.

Freya had lost her place on the settee to Jeannette, so now took one nearer Philip. ‘Tell me; why did you kill Fiona? She always looked up to you.'

‘All the evil seed must be exterminated.'

‘You killed Fiona just because she was our father's daughter?'

‘Of course. And the toddler. That was fun.'

Angelika gulped, hand over mouth. Was she going to be sick?

‘Why now?'

He pointed to Jeannette, who moaned. ‘She found a new therapist for me, someone who helped me understand why my father disowned me. It took me a while to remember what he'd done. Then Fern told me that Dad was going to get married again and have another son whom he'd also get to abuse. She didn't see how wrong that was. I told my mother, and she refused to believe me, too. What else could I do? I had to take things into my own hands and destroy everyone he'd contaminated. Fiona was the easiest. I took her by surprise when she was on the treadmill. I had to be more careful with Abigail, disguising myself as a clown. If she hadn't been so greedy, she wouldn't have died, would she?'

‘You killed Fern, too?'

‘Of course. She talked about going to the police. She laughed at me and called me a silly boy. So I killed her.' A sob. ‘
No one
laughs at me.'

‘No, indeed,' said Ellie. ‘We all take you very seriously indeed; don't we, girls?'

Everyone nodded.

Angelika took a step forward, slowly, arms akimbo. ‘Yesterday you said you understood how awful I must be feeling. I trusted you.'

‘More fool you, Little Miss Blue Eyes! Goldilocks!'

‘How dare you!' She advanced on him, narrowing her eyes. ‘Evan was the kindest, most understanding of men, and he would never, ever have . . .' She took a deep breath. ‘You killed my baby! You are out of your tiny, warped little mind! You hopeless, brain-dead piece of shit! You turd!'

‘Don't you dare speak to me like that!' He lifted the phone high in the air. ‘Prepare to die, all of you!'

Angelika was not to be stopped. She yelled, ‘I spit on you!' And did.

Philip recoiled.

The door to the hall was flung open.

There was a rush of movement, and a small boy on a scooter whooshed past Ellie, aiming for Philip . . .

Who screamed.

Impact! Boy and scooter caught Philip amidships.

The phone, jolted out of his hand, flew high in the air.

Lazily, turning over and over . . .

Freya, athlete that she was, leaped into the air, and caught it in one hand.

Everyone froze.

One . . . two . . . three . . .

Everyone made themselves small.

Ellie put her hands over her ears.

Four . . . five . . . six.

Dear God in heaven . . .!

Seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten.

Nothing.

A long sigh of relief. Everyone straightened up.

‘I don't think it's going to set anything off,' said Freya, breathing hard. ‘I think it's just an ordinary mobile phone. I'll switch it off, shall I?'

‘It's not, it's not!' yelled Philip, disentangling himself from Mikey and scooter. ‘It's going to send you all to hell and beyond. Give it here!' He lunged for Freya.

‘Ha!' Angelika put out her foot and tripped him up. He fell headlong, but in falling turned sideways so that his rucksack and its contents didn't hit the floor.

Again, everyone held their breath.

One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five.

Nothing.

They were not going to be blown up.

Mikey abandoned his scooter to rush into Ellie's arms. He snuffled into her shoulder. Clung to her.

Ellie murmured into his ear, ‘You are a hero.'

Philip began to sob. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his head.

‘Anyone know what we do now?' enquired Diana, white of face, but still composed.

Monique withdrew her mobile phone from her handbag. ‘The police should have been here by now. Really, it's a poor service we get nowadays. I shall complain to my MP.'

Jeannette inched herself down off the settee to crawl to Philip's side, covering him with her body, crooning soft words.

Ellie looked up to see Vera standing in the doorway, looking anxious. ‘Mikey?'

Ellie said, ‘He's all right. He's a brave boy.'

‘Has someone sent for the police?' said Vera. ‘Because they've just arrived.'

‘About time, too,' said Monique, extracting another cigarette from her bag.

In came Ears, with DC Milburn at his back. ‘What's all this, then? I'm called to the scene of a riot and find you having a mother's meeting.'

‘How true,' said Ellie, feeling limp. ‘A mother's meeting is exactly what it is. That's Philip Hooper on the floor. He is responsible for the three deaths in the Hooper family, though goodness knows if he's fit to plead. Probably not. Will you please take him away and get him seen to by some doctors? Oh, and find the charlatan who filled his mind with thoughts of revenge and who needs to be certified, or struck off or something, as well.'

‘What,' said Ears, ‘is going on?'

No one replied. No one was up to it for the moment.

Ellie closed her eyes.
Thank you, Lord. Oh, thank you. Praise be.

Monique lit her cigarette.

Diana went to open a window on to the garden to do some deep breathing exercises. It had stopped raining, for a wonder.

Angelika, the avenging angel, stared into the past, not liking what she saw.

‘You'll need this.' Freya held Philip's mobile phone out to Ears, who took it without realizing its significance. Freya put her arms around Angelika and led her out of the room.

Ears finally summoned reinforcements, but Philip made no demur when asked to accompany him down to the station. Jeannette, in tears, told the police that she'd given her life to Philip and that he didn't really mean it, any of it. It was all the fault of the therapist he'd been seeing.

Which, thought Ellie, to a large extent it was. She thought about asking her solicitor to represent Philip and decided against it. It didn't seem likely to her that he'd ever be fit to stand trial.

Everyone gave statements. Tiredly. Without emotion. One by one, going into the dining room, where Ears had set up his headquarters.

They drank coffee, tea, bottled water. Gin for Monique.