Murder in Style by Veronica Heley Page B

to carry them off. Which Trixie did.
    Clemmie appeared from the back room, her arms full of discarded clothing, which she started to hang on a rail. Had she heard Trixie’s voice and come out to confront her? Yes.
    Trixie put her hands on her hips. ‘There you are! Where is she?’
    Clemmie said, ‘She’s not here, Trixie.’ She then ignored her cousin to speak directly to Celine. ‘It’s nearly twelve, Celine, and I’m due upstairs. Is the new girl coming to help you this afternoon?’
    â€˜Thankfully, yes. Off you go.’
    Trixie grabbed Clemmie’s shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’
    â€˜You know very well I work in the shop on Saturday mornings, and in the office upstairs in the afternoon.’ Patiently. Then, provocatively, ‘Celine’s busy. Perhaps
you’d
like to help her here in the shop for a change?’
    â€˜Come on! I’m no shop girl.’
    â€˜Well, I am. I have to work for my living, remember?’ There was no animosity in this exchange. The cousins weren’t at one another’s throats, but there was a sense that each was testing the other.
    â€˜Fortunately,’ said Trixie, almost to herself, ‘I don’t have to.’
    Clemmie nodded, twisted away from Trixie and withdrew into the back room.
    Trixie stamped her foot. ‘Oh!’ She swung on her heel and stormed out of the shop, just as Gordon was trying to leave in his wheelchair. They collided in the doorway, did some ritual shouting at one another, and exited.
    Peace and quiet. Stares from customers. A sigh of relief and more apologies from Celine.
    Ellie went through the back room into the kitchenette. The fire door was open on to the tiny yard. A tall, grey-haired, well-dressed man was standing at the base of the fire escape, talking to Clemmie. It was the same man who’d accompanied Celine to the funeral. Ellie had put him down as married to Celine. But was that right?
    When he saw Ellie watching, the man turned away and went up the stairs.
    Clemmie made as if to follow him, but changed her mind and returned to the kitchen, saying to Ellie, ‘I’m off in a minute.’
    â€˜Is that the man Ray and Gordon call “The Monkey”?’
    â€˜I don’t know why they call him that, but they were all at school together, so …’ A shrug. ‘His name is Mr Mornay and he’s helping out at the agency for the time being.’
    â€˜He’s Celine’s husband?’
    â€˜What? Oh, no. Celine’s a widow.’
    â€˜He was at the funeral with her.’
    â€˜He came to the funeral because he’s a family friend and because he’s been helping us out recently, but he didn’t want to get involved in the reading of the will. He was just checking that I’d be able to work upstairs this afternoon, which I can. The office has been closed for a week and there’s a pile of stuff to deal with. I’m going out to get some lunch for us all, and then I’m on duty upstairs.’
    Ellie said, in a conversational tone, ‘I hate to be a nuisance, but either you start talking to me, or I tell my policewoman friend that Juno has gone missing in mysterious circumstances. The police will put out an APB for her, and start questioning the family all over again.’
    Clemmie produced her tiny, pussycat smile. ‘Yes, I thought that’s what you’d say. Give me half an hour, then ring the bell on the door next to the shop, and I’ll let you in.’
    â€˜I’ll do better than that. Tell me what you want to eat for lunch, and I’ll get it for all three of us.’
    â€˜There’s four of us upstairs. The first café along the Avenue knows what we like. Two sausage baguettes, two egg and cress sandwiches, two lattes with sugar, one Ribena, one chocolate milkshake. Collect the money from us on your return.’
    Returning to The Magpie, Ellie looked for and found an unobtrusive