Murder in House by Veronica Heley Page B

desk sergeant. And left. Policemen and women drifted in and out of the building. Some were in plain clothes, others in uniform. Some looked over her head, one or two of those leaving the station glanced her way and then averted their gaze. She imagined those might know who she was, and have been told not to pay her any attention. Or was she getting paranoid? No one came to speak to her. Perhaps DI Willis thought Ellie would give up and go if she ignored her? Ellie was annoyed with herself for not having brought a book to read.
    How long should she wait? Please Lord, is this where you want me to be right now? Because if not, there’s a thousand things I need to be doing .
    She got out an old envelope on which she’d made a list of things to do. Some of them she’d already done, and she ticked them off.
    Rose. Rose had not gone upstairs to her bedroom last night, but had curled up in her big armchair downstairs. In consequence she was so stiff this morning that she could hardly move. Oh dear. Ellie tried to help Rose get her circulation going again, but wasn’t a nurse and didn’t know which bits to rub.
    Rose herself had been flustered and upset, worried that she was causing Ellie more work, and saying that she’d be up and climbing those stairs again in next to no time.
    â€˜Dear Rose.’ Ellie was much distressed. ‘We can’t have this. How would it be if we got your bed downstairs and set it up over there in the corner, so that you can watch your telly in peace and quiet when you want to go to have a rest? Just until you feel like climbing the stairs again.’ It was a big enough room to take the bed, with a little reorganization.
    â€˜What luxury to watch the telly in bed.’ Rose was greatly relieved, as they both skated over the fact that she was probably not going to climb stairs ever again. ‘But won’t it be a lot of trouble for you to arrange?’
    â€˜I shall enjoy it,’ said Ellie, laughing to see Rose perking up. Ellie fetched down some of Rose’s clothes, helped her to the toilet, and got her dressed. Then, with some tea and toast inside her, Rose settled down at the kitchen table to make a shopping list of food for the week. Ellie guessed she’d probably have to do the list all over again in due course since Rose, once such an efficient housekeeper, was now inclined to ask for onions when she meant potatoes.
    Ellie blew her nose fiercely once she was out of the kitchen. When their two splendid cleaners arrived – only five minutes late but keen to get on with it – Ellie took them up to Rose’s bedroom, only to discover that the bed she’d been using there had an iron frame that refused to come apart and therefore couldn’t be taken out through the doorway and down the stairs. Luckily there was a divan bed among the jumble of furniture in the farthest of the unused bedrooms, and they managed to manoeuvre that, and a small cupboard with hanging-space, down and into Rose’s sitting room. Old-fashioned pieces, but practical.
    Ellie made sure that all Rose’s favourite bits and pieces were taken downstairs, plus her clothes. She asked if the cleaners might stay on that afternoon, to clear out the room that Thomas had taken over for his prayers. The odd bits of furniture he didn’t need could be stored in the only other unused bedroom, which was rapidly taking on the appearance of a junk room.
    Ellie had her own personal assistant who helped her deal with correspondence that couldn’t be handed over to her Trust fund. Pat had, however, also gone down with this flu-like cold, so there was a stack of mail, which Ellie opened and then decided to ignore for the time being.
    After that she checked on Thomas and his secretary, whom she left hard at work but listening out for the locksmith, who’d said he’d come at half nine and hadn’t arrived by the time she left at ten.
    Before she’d left, Ellie had