Read Online Murder in Mind by Veronica Heley - Free Book Online

all-important football match. How could she have forgotten? Well, if Thomas went, it wasn’t necessary for her to have to stand at the side of the pitch watching muddy boys get muddier as rain fell unrelentingly around them. Watching a football match was not high on her list of priorities. Frank could have the pleasure of telling her about it later.
    Maria had an idea. ‘Ah, I think I know who could help you out. An old friend of mine, recently divorced, empty nest syndrome, has a business as an interior decorator. A bit of a bossy boots, but you could do with someone to take charge, couldn’t you? She uses our cleaning agency now and again, and in return I recommend her to suitable people.’
    â€˜Er, yes, I suppose so,’ said Ellie.
    Maria had a laugh in her voice. ‘Of course it’s wrong to gossip, but you might be interested to hear that she is called upon to redecorate the Hooper house whenever there is a change of, er, mistress.’
    Ellie grinned. ‘Ah, now I understand.’
    â€˜Shall I ask her if she can pop round to see you tomorrow morning? Her name’s Betsey, but the name of the firm is “Harmony in the Home”.’
    â€˜Bless you. Tomorrow morning. Wonderful.’
    Ellie dutifully attended to some of the paperwork which her secretary had left for her to sign, and read her telephone messages. One of the garden designers would be around to look at Pryce House early next week . . . Please remember to send a cheque to . . .
    Ellie wasn’t putting off the phone call to Caroline Topping. Just dealing with more important matters. Only, there was still ten minutes before supper would be on the table, so she reached for the phone book and found a number for a Mr Topping, who lived on the other side of the park.
    They were probably out. Or not the people she remembered at all. The phone was picked up, to the accompaniment of a toddler’s wail.
    â€˜Caroline Topping? This is Ellie Quicke here; I don’t know whether you remember me, but . . . Is this a bad time to call?’
    â€˜My neighbour’s just collecting her son and returning mine. Mrs Quicke, is it? Of course I remember you . . . Excuse me a moment, I’ll just let her out.’ Pause. A door slammed shut. The phone was picked up again. ‘I’m looking after my neighbour’s little one for ten days while she recovers from an operation – she can’t lift him at the moment – and in exchange she collects my son from school. He then plays with her boy till supper time. Helping one another out.’
    â€˜Ah, I thought your little boy must be too old for the play centre now.’
    â€˜Hold on a mo.’ Caroline put her hand over the phone again. Ellie waited. Caroline returned. ‘Sorry about that. My son’s just reminded me he has to be at Cubs in less than an hour, and my husband won’t be back till late. So I’m going to have to rush. How can I help you?’
    â€˜It’s the police, really. They’re trying to find someone who might have taken a photo of the clown at the play centre on their mobile phone before he disappeared.’
    â€˜Yes, that was a tragedy. Really shocking. It makes one think how your own child might have died in the same way if . . . Terrible, terrible! I did take a picture as it happens, though it didn’t come out very well. Look, I’ll run a copy off on the computer and drop it in to you when I’ve taken Duncan to Cubs. Is that all right?’
    â€˜Well, actually, it’s the police who—’ But the phone had gone dead.
    Ask a busy mum for something . . .
    Mrs Topping didn’t know where Ellie lived nowadays, did she? This wasn’t destined to turn out well.
    But, as they were clearing up after supper – the mustard sauce had been delicious with the baked mackerel and Thomas had only grumbled twice about the limited number of potatoes on his plate – someone rang the front