Murder in House (34 page)

In one corner, with a number of women surrounding him and backed by two middle-aged no-neck type bouncers, was a dark young man in a silk suit. The prince of Araby, or wherever it was he'd come from. The man who'd demanded Ursula be served up to him on a plate. A waiter came through a swinging door, carrying a tray of drinks. He was pock-marked, shaven-headed. Bullseye, dishing out drinks innocuous and lethal.

‘Oh, Ellie!' cried the Stick Insect. ‘How wonderful to see you. You naughty, naughty thing. Dear Mr Prior has been so distressed by the porky pies you've been telling about him.'

‘Lies?' Ellie raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, no. I don't think so.'

Mr Prior lost some of his rubicund joviality, but held on to his smile. He had an excellent dentist. ‘Well, well. Now you've come to apologize, and have brought the lovely Ursula with you, all shall be forgiven.'

‘I haven't come to apologize,' said Ellie, trying to lift her voice so that everyone could hear. If Mr Prior wanted to stage a scene in public, then she'd give it him in spades. ‘How can I apologize for speaking the truth? Why should I apologize when I and my family and friends have been threatened and beaten up? And if you think I'm paying blackmail, then you've got another think coming!'

‘What nonsense is this?' He was beginning to lose his temper. A large woman beside him laid a hand on his arm and he turned his head towards her. The woman must be his wife: blonde, statuesque, glittering with diamonds. Yes, Mrs Prior. The woman pointed to the girl standing behind Ellie, and Mr Prior smiled once more and took a step forward.

‘Ursula, my dear! Welcome back. We've missed you. Now, let me introduce you to someone who's come specially on your account.'

Ursula still had her hood over her face, concealing all but a red, red mouth. One hand was clenched at her throat, holding something hidden from sight by her hood. Hawk-face and Judo stood one on either side of her, eyes quartering the room.

‘I am not a parcel, to be handed over to anyone.' Her voice was slow and rich. It carried a note of menace, which seemed to darken the corners of the room. Ellie felt a thrill crawl up and down her spine.

‘I didn't come as a guest. I came to deliver messages from your daughter, Mrs Prior.' She raised her free hand and pointed to the woman. ‘From your stepdaughter, Mr Prior.' She pointed to him. ‘From your stepsister, Anthony and Timothy. From the girl you raped, Councillor.'

Hawk-face stepped forward to draw the hood a little way back from Ursula's face, revealing a face that was not hers . . . a face that bore a life-size photo of the untouched, untroubled Mia. Ursula had enlarged Mia's photograph and pasted it as a mask on to a stick, surrounded by long black curls. The curls were made of black paper, but looked real enough at a distance. There were cut-outs for eyes and mouth. Through the mask, Ursula's eyes glittered.

Everyone jumped as a camera flashed. The local photographer was not going to miss this if he could help it.

A tremor struck the room. Someone laughed, hysterically, and smothered it. A woman standing near Ellie shuddered. The councillor pointed out by Ursula was a weaselly man with a six o'clock shadow. He set down his glass with a click that could be heard by everyone. A stout woman standing nearby frowned at him and opened her mouth to speak, looking bewildered. His wife?

Ellie stepped back into the shadows, allowing Ursula centre stage.

‘What?' said Mr Prior. ‘How dare you! Who are you?'

‘I am the girl you destroyed. Ladies, gentlemen, look around you. See the pretty young men and girls, all working hard to entrap you. Some of them are under age: jail bait. I know what I'm talking about, for I was once one of them. The ploy works, doesn't it? All the little minnows swim into the Prior net and become his puppets. Every now and then a larger fish comes along and then he needs beautiful but educated girls who are harder to come by. His eye alights on Mia, his stepdaughter, and her friend Ursula. Well, why not? They're young, desirable and not yet touched by man.'

Several middle-aged men who'd been cuddling young girls suddenly found they needed both hands to hold their glass. A couple of older women disentangled themselves from the Prior boys.

‘Ursula takes fright and runs away, which leaves Mia, poor Mia, who didn't want to stay on at the Grand Opening because a certain councillor was making himself obnoxious to her. She's told he's gone and given a drink by someone she trusts, by her own stepbrother. She falls into a drugged sleep. When she comes round, she's bleeding . . . bruised . . . bitten. She realizes she's been raped.' She raised her arm and pointed. ‘Hasn't she, Councillor?'

All eyes went to the pale-faced, sweating man. ‘No, no!'

The stout woman who'd been standing near him whipped her head round to stare first at Ursula, and then at the councillor, who seemed to be shrinking inside his clothes.

‘And impregnated. Was it your baby, Councillor?'

‘My God! No!'

His wife backhanded him. ‘So that's what happened when I had flu and you came home reeking of sex! You swore you'd been with a prostitute!'

He took a step back. ‘No, no. That is, yes, I did have her, but I didn't hurt her, I swear I didn't. No, how could I? She was just lying there, and I . . . well, anyone would, wouldn't they?' He looked around, and met only averted eyes.

His voice rose to a shout. ‘I didn't hurt her! I swear she was all right when I left her.' He swung round on Anthony. ‘You were there. You told me she was ready for it. It was you! You hurt her!'

Anthony was smoothness itself. ‘No, no. You're mistaken. There were lots of other people there. I took you downstairs and saw you into your car, remember?'

The camera flashed again.

The councillor wiped his hand across his forehead. ‘Oh yes, of course you did. I could see . . . yes, other men were queuing up to take their turn after me.'

‘And this is how you left her!' Ursula reversed the mask in her hand, and now they were faced with the photo of Mia's ruined face: the puffy lips and eyes, the bruised and discoloured skin, the half-healed cuts, the badly-cut and dyed fringe of hair. ‘This is what Mia looked like, three days ago. She is now in hospital, being filled up with antibiotics for the wounds inflicted on her, which have gone septic. The DNA will tell us who fathered her child.'

The councillor's wife made as if to hit him again, and he made a run for the door only to be blocked by Hawk-face, who seemed to move slowly, but caught the man in a vice-like grip from which he struggled in vain to release himself. Slowly, he was bent over till his head was touching his knees. Hawk-face released his grip, and the man fell at Ursula's feet. Weeping. ‘No, no. Not me. It's a mistake. I'll be ruined . . . I beg you . . .'

Ursula ignored him. The camera flashed.

The councillor's wife seized him by one arm and hauled him to his feet. ‘You pitiful little worm!' The camera was right in her face. She spoke to the room at large. ‘He'll resign tomorrow.' She towed him after her to the front door, which Hawk-face held open for her.

As it closed behind them the party-goers shifted, turning to one another, shocked, bewildered. Ellie saw most set down half-empty glasses. A sign that they believed Ursula and were rejecting Mr Prior's hospitality?

The girl in the wheelchair sat with open mouth, stunned. DC Milburn's mouth was also agape. DI Willis sipped her drink, her eyes going round the room, her expression guarded.

Mr Prior tried to regain control. He raised his voice, gathering all eyes to himself. ‘I knew nothing of this. In fact, I don't believe a word of it. The girl was a slut who—'

‘That's a lie,' said Ursula, dropping her mask, throwing back her cloak and shaking her hair loose. Taller than most people there, she dominated the room, in a short, gold sheath of a dress. ‘She was a virgin. You sacrificed her in the hopes of gaining a contract that you wouldn't otherwise have got. After she was raped, she was brought back home to this house, to her own room, and kept here for use by her family and friends.'

There was another gasp from the room. Anthony and Timothy exchanged glances, moved closer together. Daniel set down his tray with care, and rubbed his hand over his mouth. DI Willis half closed her eyes, assessing the situation.

Ursula pointed to Mrs Prior. ‘You hated Mia, didn't you? She was more beautiful than you, and kind to everyone. People loved her. You may or may not have known what was going to happen at the party, but once Mia was back in her own home, you chose to ignore what had happened. What's more, you let her be raped again and again. And beaten. Under your own roof.'

Mrs Prior laughed, and shook her head. She stood with feet apart, monumentally sure of herself. Diamonds glittered at her neck and ears and on each of her massive wrists. She hissed, ‘Ridiculous!'

Ursula surveyed the room. ‘You had her,' she said, pointing to a jolly-looking, corpulent man at Anthony's elbow. ‘She used to call you “uncle”, didn't she? And her stepbrothers? They took their turn too.' The look of shock and guilt on three faces was enough to convince the most sceptical of onlookers that what she said was true.

Flash! Flash!

Ursula's face twisted. ‘I had hoped that Timothy at least . . . but Mia says he was one of the most brutal of her visitors. And do you know what this prize family had arranged for Mia's future? When she was no longer of any use to them, they were going to sell her to a pimp in the Midlands.'

‘You are bluffing,' said Mrs Prior, in a deep, almost masculine voice. ‘You have no proof.' But her hands trembled, making her diamond rings flash.

‘I think you'd better leave,' said Mr Prior, pressing a handkerchief to his lips. A strand of white hair fell over his eye. Suddenly he didn't look like Santa Claus at all. ‘Your allegations . . . ridiculous! As if I would ever have anything to do with such a thing!'

‘You took your turn as well, didn't you? Two nights running. I wonder you can sleep at night, after what you've done.'

‘Nothing! I've done nothing.'

‘I realize you don't actually get your hands dirty yourself, do you? You set up the schemes and, if anything goes wrong, you get your wife to deal with it.' Ursula turned to Mrs Prior. ‘I thought I recognized your voice on the phone. It's your job to frighten people into doing what your husband wants, isn't it? First the threats, and then the hard men go in. Anthony was your right-hand man who arranged things for you. He in turn recruited needy young men and gave them their instructions. But your little empire is falling apart because this afternoon a couple of your foot soldiers went to the police and admitted attacking and robbing Mrs Belton.'

Something like a groan went up from the party-goers, who seemed to sway backwards, moving away from their host and hostess. The girl in the wheelchair began to cry, but DC Milburn failed to notice her sister's distress.

DI Willis took out her mobile phone and spoke into it, in a low voice. Checking on what Ursula had said? The man known as Bullseye slid out of the room.

Mr Prior was sweating. ‘No! I have never . . . Absolutely not!'

‘Mia is going to name names as soon as she leaves hospital. You understand?'

‘You are pathetic!' But it was he who was pathetic, now. Trembling hands, ageing before their eyes. ‘I didn't. At least . . . not till . . . no, not me!'

‘I suppose it would best if you pleaded guilty to rape, rather than face a murder charge.'

A shocked murmur went round the room.

Flash!

Ursula was implacable. ‘Yes, murder. Your son Timothy admitted as much to Daniel Collins, my ex-fiancé.'

Daniel's knees gave way, and he sank to the floor, his head bowed. He muttered, ‘He was joking. I told you he was joking.'

Flash!

‘Anthony killed our friend Lloyd. Worse, he destroyed Lloyd's character, saying he'd got drunk and gone over the balcony. Lloyd hardly drank at all. Timothy told you what really happened, didn't he, Dan? What was it? Did Lloyd see what was happening to Mia and object so strongly that Anthony ordered him to be silenced?'

An indrawn breath. Daniel sobbed, once. ‘Yes, yes. I suppose so. Timothy said, hinted . . . I wasn't there.'

Everyone looked at Timothy, who passed the back of his hand over his mouth. ‘I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing.'

Flash!

Anthony alone kept his nerve. ‘Lloyd shouldn't have made such a fuss.'

‘A fuss? Well, that's for the courts to decide. As for the threats the Priors have been making –' Ursula swept the room with her eyes – ‘how many of you would dare to oppose this man, if he said your wife and child would lose their eyesight if you didn't give him what he wanted? That's what a prospective investor was told this afternoon. Or if he threatened to firebomb your premises? That was the word passed to my friend's daughter. We have taped recordings of these same threats.'

A swirl of motion, and somebody crashed across the room, aiming directly for Ursula. Anthony, mad with fury. She didn't flinch.

Judo took one pace to the fore and, bending down, lifted Anthony clear off the floor, deflecting him from Ursula, and sending him skidding across the room. He crashed into a table, and lay there, groaning.

Flash!

Ursula turned to the corner of the room in which her date for the night stood, hardly breathing, his eyes flicking to and fro. ‘Your Highness, I regret that I may have given you the wrong impression at the party. I am not for sale.'

He bowed his head. ‘I do not regret knowing you, Miss Ursula. It has been an education. Now, it is time for me to leave.' Ursula stood aside as he made for the door, followed by his bodyguards, and disappeared into the night, the door shutting behind him without a sound.