Murder in Mind by Veronica Heley

creature?’
    â€˜Enormous eyes, thin little thing. Unsure of herself. Perfect victim for Evan Hooper . . . or his daughter.’
    â€˜Not grief-stricken?’
    â€˜I may be wrong, and they may all three of them be covering up a deep grief which will only manifest itself later, but no one in that family seems to be sorrowing for Fiona or for Abigail.’
    â€˜There’s another girl in the family, isn’t there? What about her?’
    â€˜Frozen faced. Shook her head when I asked if she had anything to say. She was at a sleepover with a friend when Fiona died, and she was at school when Abigail ate the biscuits.’ Ms Milburn stood up. ‘So, here’s my card with my mobile phone number on it. Would you ring me if you hear anything about the clown or that might clear the au pair and the play centre?’
    Ellie saw Ms Milburn out. Her hand hovered over the telephone in the hall. Should she ring Diana and ask . . . What could she ask her? Whether or not Evan was heartbroken over the deaths of two of his children?
    She took her hand away. No. Better not open that can of worms.
    She thought back over the conversation with Ms Milburn. Was Ms Milburn really so scared of Ears that she would welcome an outsider’s help? Did Ms Milburn really believe that Ellie could supply her with the name and address of the clown? Surely not.
    Thomas emerged from his study down the corridor, humming something from a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. He knew all the words to the patter songs. This time it was something about being a model major-general.
    Ellie found herself smiling.
    He gave her a hug. ‘Are you free for half an hour? I’ve had it up to here with work, and the computer’s running slow. I need fresh air. What about you? If you’re free, I thought we might take a walk, go for a coffee in the Avenue.’ His eyes were round with innocence.
    She patted his impressive frontage. ‘I know what you’re aiming for, which is more than a coffee. A walk, yes. Coffee, yes. But we’re not going to Café 786 for cake, are we?’
    The look of innocence intensified. ‘I never remember what those numbers mean.’
    â€˜You know perfectly well what they mean; they’re open seven days a week, from eight in the morning to six in the evening. And they do the best carrot cake in the Avenue.’
    â€˜I suppose they do, now you mention it.’
    She had to laugh. ‘Well, all right. We’ll go there, but we’ll have just one piece of cake between us, right? I have to watch your weight, even if you don’t.’
    He grinned. ‘Half a piece of cake is better than none.’
    â€˜I’ll get the shopping list, and you can help me carry the stuff back.’
    The pile of curtains slipped off the chair, and he, being nearest, hauled them back. ‘What’s this?’
    â€˜I thought I could get the end bedroom ready for the family’s visit, and I found a box of curtains but they’re too fragile to rescue. I asked Rose to dump them, but I suppose she’s forgotten. But I’ll take the torn curtain from the dining room in to be mended on the way.’
    He gave her a look. ‘Ellie Quicke; anyone would think you had nothing better to do than fuss about curtains and carpets. For one thing, your poor overworked husband requires time out and needs your soothing hand on his brow, not to mention coffee and cake. I’ve told you before; my family can go to a hotel—’
    â€˜No, I really do want them to come here. It’ll be so much nicer.’
    â€˜If you say so. But only if you get the wonderful Maria and her cleaning agency to sort the house out for you. Let her find men to move furniture, and take curtains down to be mended. If we need new carpets and curtains then get her to organize it. I am more than prepared to foot the bill. In fact –’ and he knew this was a clincher – ‘I’m enthusiastic