Murder in House Read Online Free PDF

paper and made her way quietly back to the kitchen. She spread the paper out on the table.
    There it was. ‘Tragedy at Top Venue.’ She scanned the paragraph. Not much information. A student called Lloyd had drunk too much at the Grand Opening of the stunning new block of flats on the North Circular called Prior’s Place and fallen from the top floor. Yes, yes . . . terrible accident, parents stricken. Presumably this was the death the girl had been referring to. Why had Ursula thought it was murder? There was no picture of the deceased, but there was one of the building concerned. Something futuristic with penthouse balconies.
    She scissored out the paragraph, thinking she’d come across a mention of the building somewhere else recently. It would come to her in due course. It looked expensive. Flats for those with a fortune to spare, but none for the deserving poor.
    She tucked the cutting between the glass doors of the spice cabinet, along with a card for a dentist’s appointment and a programme for local events they might like to see. She sighed, thinking of everything she’d have to do before she could get her old house handed over to Diana and, hopefully, get her daughter off her back.
    Thomas called out from the sitting room. ‘Hurry up. Your tea’s getting cold.’
    He’d pulled forward the little table that stood in front of their two big chairs, and was working his way through his pile of biscuits. ‘These aren’t half bad. Have one?’
    He really ought to go on a diet. She ought to as well, for her skirts had begun to feel a trifle too snug since Christmas. She’d think about that tomorrow. ‘We won’t need any supper after this. What did you do with little Frank in the attics?’
    â€˜I spotted an old rocking horse up there when I was putting the Christmas decorations away. It lacks a mane and tail, but I thought he might like it, and he did. I’ll get it restored for him, if you think it’s a good idea.’
    She nodded, smiling, wondering which child it had been bought for in the house’s long history. For Frank, her first husband, perhaps? He’d been brought up by his aunt Drusilla in this house, but he’d never mentioned having a rocking horse. Perhaps it had been Drusilla’s? Ellie shook her head. She couldn’t imagine Miss Quicke riding a rocking horse. Not her style. If it had been an abacus? Maybe.
    â€˜Blissful Sunday,’ said Thomas, stretching arms and legs. ‘No emails. No visits to make. No phone calls. Time apart.’ He reached across to pat her hand. ‘A nice quiet evening with you. What more could a man ask?’
    This from a man who’d gone out into the cold that morning to take a service for a friend, and to save a soul. Possibly Ursula didn’t think of herself as having a soul, since she didn’t really believe in God. Well, he’d rescued a maiden in distress. At least, Ellie presumed Ursula was a maiden. She was certainly in distress. One didn’t talk about maidenhood any more, did one?
    She relaxed, washing down her third biscuit with her cuppa. She told herself, I Must Not Worry. It May Never Happen.
    Thomas was fidgeting. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she’d noticed that just occasionally he had bouts of fidgeting, even sometimes of pacing around the ground floor as if looking for something. Maybe he needed more exercise? Perhaps that was it. But she wouldn’t encourage him to go out for a long walk in this weather. Now he said, ‘Is there anything on the telly, or do you want to tell me about it?’
    So she told him Ursula’s story as far as she understood it. ‘One accidental death which might be a murder, one broken engagement, one disappearance. The papers didn’t say it was murder; they said it was an accident. It happened at the new block of flats on the North Circular, Prior’s Place. It seems to ring a