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

Abigail’s weight. There was always a scene when she wanted to take the child home, but a lot of children get like that when they’ve overdone it, and no one takes much notice. It’s best to be firm with them and not let them upset you, but the au pair always tried to reason with Abigail. Waste of time.’ She looked at her watch again.
    â€˜Did you see the child eat the biscuits?’
    â€˜Um. Well, they were all milling round the clown, and I looked for my mobile to take a picture and the child I was minding ran back to me, offering me half his biscuit, which was sweet of him, he is a nice child. And then . . . they all scattered, in different directions, and I snapped the clown just as the last of the balloons were given out. So no, I don’t think I actually saw her eating it. I was thinking about leaving, the time was getting on – which reminds me, I must be off – and then the au pair was calling Abigail’s name, and people were starting to leave because it was near lunchtime, you see. And the clown disappeared—’
    â€˜Did you see the clown go?’
    A shake of the head. ‘I was strapping my little one into his buggy. Someone said that Abigail was hurt or been taken ill or something. We were amused, you can imagine, thinking she’d been greedy and made herself sick. Only, then we realized . . . and after that everything went quiet.’
    Silence.
    Caroline shook herself back to the present. ‘It was quick, they say. The play centre people were brilliant, asked us all to stay until the police came, and I had a drink for my little one in the buggy, so I did stay, but then time went on and I had to get back, the television man was coming to fix it because one of my cats had clawed the wire out of . . . But you don’t need to know about that. So I came away. I suppose I understand why Abigail’s father should be so angry, but really, that child! I mean, it’s terrible, what happened, but she did know she oughtn’t to eat snacks. I’ve heard the au pair tell her so several times. And the play centre does such a good job. It’s the only place around with an outdoor play area which has permanent equipment, and it’s good inside on wet days, as well. If it closes . . . Oh dear; it doesn’t bear thinking about. And I must go.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ said Ellie, but Caroline Topping was already on the move. Ellie held the front door open for her. ‘I remembered you because of your cats. Do you still have four?’
    â€˜The oldest one died, but I have a new manic kitten, J-peg we call her because the first we knew about her was when someone sent us a picture . . .’ And off went Caroline, still talking, chugging away in her little Volkswagen.
    So now Ellie had a picture of the clown, and much good it might do her.
    At least it wasn’t Diana. Quite definitely not.

FIVE
    Saturday morning
    W
as this a good time to kill another of the hateful tribe? The sooner they were all underground, the better.
    What about using the clown get-up again? No, better not. True, it only took a couple of seconds to tear off the mask and wig, and to shrug off the red coat. A white T-shirt hardly raised an eyebrow, and though the black trousers were baggy, they weren’t outrageous.
    But perhaps it wouldn’t be necessary to use it for this one.
    So; be prepared. Gloves, yes. Thin, disposable ones. And one of her own syringes, pinched on the earlier visit when all she’d done was laugh. The plan hadn’t been thought through then. But now . . .
    A glance around. No one in sight.
    Most shops – even in a street at the back of the bus station – were busy on a Saturday morning, but this one was so dimly lit that it repelled rather than attracted attention. The window display consisted of a few curling pamphlets, a stack of books on alternative lifestyles, and a selection of weird and wonderful charms claimed to ensure