Free Murder in Time by Veronica Heley Page A

welcome.’
    â€˜Twelve years ago—’
    He nearly spilled his tea. He set the mug down with care. He put his hands – capable, long-fingered hands – on the arms of his chair. Ellie imagined he’d have no trouble dominating a class or even a hall full of children. He had that intangible thing called authority.
    He tried to smile. ‘The night the earth shook?’
    â€˜The night everything changed, and not necessarily for the better.’
    â€˜No, indeed.’ His smile faded. ‘Let the past bury the past. I decided a long time ago that I had to draw a line under what had happened and move on.’
    â€˜Unsolved mysteries have a habit of returning to upset the present, and now there’s a need for answers.’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Mrs Quicke. I can’t talk about it. So, may we change the subject?’
    â€˜Someone has dug up a witness to your father’s death.’
    That shook him. ‘What? Who? No, I don’t believe it.’
    â€˜The witness concerned may not be speaking the truth, but can do a lot of damage even if the case never comes to court.’
    â€˜To court? You mean …? No, surely …! Why would you joke about …? The police …’ He controlled himself with an effort. ‘Perhaps you’d better start from the beginning, Mrs Quicke.’ A formal tone.
    â€˜I wish I knew where the beginning was. A man has been found who says he witnessed your father’s death. He – or she – is prepared to put a name to the person concerned.’
    His breathing quickened. He got to his feet and took a turn around the room. She thought that he was used to larger rooms and didn’t like being confined to this small space. With his back to her, he said, ‘Who?’
    â€˜A private detective has been paid to come up with evidence against a friend of mine. Such evidence is tainted, but could cause her a great deal of trouble.’
    His whole body jerked. ‘Her?’ He turned, slowly, to face her.
    â€˜Yes.’ Ellie watched him struggle with the name.
    â€˜It can’t be …?’
    â€˜Vera, yes.’
    He coloured up. A flush that receded only slowly. ‘Well,’ he said, in a flat voice, ‘there’s a turn up for the books, or, as you might say, a blast from the past.’ He went to stand by the French windows that looked on to the garden, hands behind his back, looking up at the sky. So that he didn’t have to meet Ellie’s eye?
    â€˜Don’t you want to hear why she’s been accused of murder?’
    â€˜I have no feelings on the subject. I haven’t seen her for years. I don’t suppose I’d recognize her if I saw her in the street. I wouldn’t have thought she’d have … But what do I know? I suppose she might have been caught up in an abusive situation and lashed out, or … Forgive me. I really don’t want to talk about it.’
    Ellie persisted. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late for you to hide your head in the sand. People are telling what they think is the truth, but their truth may not be someone else’s truth, and … I’m getting into a muddle here. All I know is that a certain person is blackmailing Vera. He says that either she gives him something he wants, or he’ll see that she’s accused of murdering your father.’
    â€˜Ridiculous!’ He pressed his hands over his eyes for a moment. ‘Great heavens above! Has the world gone mad?’
    â€˜Would you be prepared to give me a statement to the effect that Vera had long gone home by the time your father was killed? That should do it.’
    â€˜I … No. I can’t do that, not of my own knowledge.’ He made a despairing gesture with his hands.
    She guessed, ‘You weren’t there either?’
    â€˜No. I wasn’t.’ He turned a frown on her. ‘What is your interest in this, Mrs Quicke?’
    â€˜Vera