Witch Is When the Penny Dropped (2 page)

Chapter 2

I was pleased to see the giant sign for Armitage, Armitage, Armitage and Poole had been removed over the weekend. It had been replaced by a much more modest one which did not completely obscure mine, as the previous one had done. I now shared the building with the AAA&P solicitors who also had the building next door. Gordon Armitage was desperate to get me out so they could have the whole building to themselves. That was never going to happen. Armitage had tried a number of underhanded tricks to dislodge me, but to no avail.

“Why are you wearing a hat?” I said.

Mrs V looked up from her knitting.

“My ears look old.”

Mrs V was my PA/receptionist—unpaid. And before you accuse me of being a tightwad, I should explain that she did this quite voluntarily. I didn’t feel too bad about it for two reasons: one—I didn’t make enough money to pay her anyway, and two—she spent most of the day knitting.

“Aren’t your ears the same age as the rest of you?”

“Oh no, dear,” she said. “They’re much older.”

“Couldn’t you just grow your hair?”

“It doesn’t suit me long.”

“It’s a nice hat. Did you knit it?”

“Me?” She laughed. “I don’t knit hats—you should know that. Scarves and socks are more than enough for me. Tulip Carruthers made it for me.”

“Tulip?”

“Yes, she and her sister, Hyacinth, are the last word in hats. I could ask them to knit one for you if you like?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m not really a hat person.”

“Just wait until your ears get old, then you’ll change your mind.”

“How’s Winky?”

Mrs V gave me a look, and I immediately regretted asking. Winky was my one-eyed, crazy cat who I’d rescued from the cat home. He and Mrs V were sworn enemies.

“He laughed at me,” she said.

“Cats can’t laugh.”

“I know, but that’s what it sounded like. When I went into your office to get a file, he made this weird noise. I could have sworn he was laughing.”

“Maybe he’s coming down with something?”

“Have you seen that crazy old coot out there?” Winky was rolling about the floor in hysterics.

“Shh!” I pushed the door closed behind me. Fortunately, Mrs V’s hearing wasn’t up to scratch—probably the old ears. “You shouldn’t laugh at her. She’s an old lady.”

He could barely speak for laughing. “What’s that on her head?”

“I like it. I think it suits her.”

“You’re such a bad liar.”

“She has a problem with her ears.”

“Are they falling off?” He sat up—suddenly more serious. “Hey, do you think they’ve fallen off?”

“Her ears? Course not—don’t be stupid.”

“She might be a zombie. Their ears fall off.”

“Mrs V is not a zombie.”

“It would explain a lot.”

Did other people have this type of conversation, or was it just me?

The door opened behind me.

“Watch out!” Winky yelled. “Zombie attack!”

I gave him a nudge with my foot—okay maybe more than just a nudge—which sent him sliding under the leather sofa.

“There’s someone to see you,” Mrs V said. “She doesn’t have an appointment.”

I had no appointments that morning, or afternoon, or for the rest of the week for that matter. As always, the punters weren’t exactly beating a path to my door.

“Show her in. What’s her name?”

“Miss Comm.”

Miss Comm was in her late twenties, and as cute as a button.

“Thank you for seeing me.” She managed a smile, but there was sadness in her eyes.

“No problem. Take a seat, Miss Comm.”

“Dorothy, but everyone calls me Dot.”

Dot Comm? I wanted to laugh, but I could see she wasn’t in the mood for my stupid sense of humour.

“How can I help, Dot?”

“My fiancé is Ron Peel. His sister was murdered a few days ago. The police have arrested Ron on suspicion of her murder.”

The name ‘Peel’ rang a bell. It was one of the murders I’d seen reported in the Bugle that morning.

“Where is he now?”

“At Washbridge police station. He was arrested last night, and they won’t let me see him.”

“What happened exactly?”

“I don’t know the details, but Gina—that’s his sister—was found murdered in an apartment over at the East Side Development. Do you know it?”

I nodded. What had once been a beautiful area of woodland had been cleared for executive apartments. Despite local opposition, the development had been given the green light—there had been rumours of corruption.

“Were your fiancé and his sister close?”

“Not really. They didn’t see one another very often.”

“Do you know why the police arrested him?”

“I assume it has to do with the money. Ron used to have a twin brother, Reg.”

Ron and Reg? Someone was having a laugh.

“Reg died just over two years ago in a climbing accident. The two of them had been climbing together when Reg fell to his death. The terms of their parents’ Will provided for all three children, but left the bulk of the estate to the last surviving child.”

“So Ron is now set to inherit the estate?”

“That’s right. As far as I can make out, that’s the only reason the police have arrested him.”

“Did you know his sister or his brother?”

She looked down as though contemplating her answer. When she met my gaze again, there were tears in her eyes. “I didn’t know Gina very well. We’d only met a few times.” She took a deep breath. “I used to go out with Reg. We had planned to marry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“After his death, Ron and I turned to one another for comfort. After a while that developed into something more.”

“Do you have any thoughts on who might have murdered Gina?”

She shook her head. “I really didn’t know her very well. I met her a few times when I was with Reg, and no more than a couple of times since Ron and I got together.”

I spent another twenty minutes gathering what other information I could from Dot, and I agreed to take on the case.

She’d no sooner left than Winky came rolling out from under the sofa.

“How did you do it?” He laughed.

“Do what?”

“Keep a straight face.”

“I’ve told you. I don’t find Mrs V’s hat funny.” I lied.

“I don’t mean old crazy’s hat. I mean that woman’s name. Dot Comm? What were her parents thinking?”

“Making fun of people’s names is not clever.” And obviously something I would never do.

“Fancy another game of darts?” Winky pointed to the dart board which he’d had installed above the sofa.

“No thanks.”

I’d been hustled by him once before to the tune of ten pounds. I wasn’t going to fall for that one again.

“Go on. I’ll give you a start.”

“No.”

“I’ll play with two darts to your three.”

“No, thanks.”

“I’ll play blindfolded.”

“I’m too busy to play darts. I have a case to work on.”

Mrs V caught me on the way out.

“Does Peter go fishing?”

“Occasionally, but not as often as he used to.”

Peter was my long-suffering brother-in-law.

“I thought so. Tell him to be on the look out. I heard on the woolvine that there have been a lot of conmen targeting anglers. I wouldn’t want him to get swindled.”

“What kind of conmen?”

“I don’t know exactly, but apparently they pretend to be something they’re not. Tell him to be on the look out, and to tell any of his fishing buddies.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

I was about to head over to East Side when my phone rang. It was Jack Maxwell

“You’ve seen the Bugle, I take it?” he said.

“Two murders. That should keep you busy.”

“Maybe I should get Susan back down here to help out.”

Susan ‘Sushi’ Shay had worked with Jack before he moved to Washbridge, and she’d moved down here for a short while during which time she’d been the bane of my life.

“You should. I’m missing Sushi.”

“I bet you are.” He laughed. “Anyway, I promised you a meal.”

“I thought you’d forgotten.”

“Of course not. I’ve just been busy. Anyway, I came to the conclusion that if I wait until I’m not busy, I’ll be waiting forever.”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“I promised that I’d cook. Remember?”

“I thought that was a joke. Do you mean to tell me you really can cook?”

“I told you. I’m red hot in the kitchen. So what do you say?”

I probably should have mentioned that Luther and I were now an item, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And besides, I didn’t want to jeopardise our fragile professional relationship. “Okay, when did you have in mind?”

“Friday would be best for me.”

“Friday it is then.”

Look at me. Two dates in one week. Was I hot or what?

“Jack, before you go. I ought to tell you that I’ve taken on a case related to one of the murders.”

“I might have known. Which one?”

“The Gina Peel murder. The fiancée of the man you’ve charged came to see me.”

“He hasn’t been charged. We’re just questioning him.”

“Can you tell me anything?”

“What do you think?”

“I think ‘yes’.”

“Try again.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I can tell you this much. There’s something weird going on with the fingerprints. Look, I have to go. See you on Friday.”

“Hang on!”

Too late. He’d gone. How could he leave me hanging like that? What did he mean by
‘something weird with the fingerprints’
? Now I really was intrigued. If Maxwell wouldn’t tell me then an ‘undercover’ visit to the police station was called for.

***

My cousins, Amber and Pearl, ran Cuppy C which was a cake shop and tea room. Like me, they were level two witches. Neither of them seemed particularly interested in moving up the levels. They were far more interested in Cuppy C and their fiancés, Alan and William.

“That’s new isn’t it?” I pointed to the sign on the wall above the counter.

“Yeah,” Pearl said. “What do you think?”

The sign read:
‘If our cupcakes don’t make you happy, we’ll give you another one’.

“It’s a nice touch, and I guess you don’t have much to worry about—your cupcakes are the best in Candlefield.”

“Yeah, that’s what we figured.”

“Jill, hi.” Amber walked through from the cake shop. She was followed by four other young witches.

“Hi. I was just commenting on your new sign.”

“The Cuppy C guarantee of satisfaction? Yeah, it’s one of our better ideas.” She glanced back at the four witches. “These are the friends of ours which we told you about. Ladies, this is our cousin, and P.I. extraordinaire.”

Pearl joined us; we had to push two tables together to accommodate everyone.

“I’ll let the girls introduce themselves,” Amber said.

“Hi, I’m Tilly,” the redhead with the tight braids, said.

“I’m Milly.” The blonde to her right.

“I’m Lily.” The tallest of the four.

Tilly, Milly and Lily? Was this a wind up?

“And I’m Hilary,” said the one with a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her neck.

“Let me guess.” I grinned. “Everyone calls you Hilly?”

“No.” She looked puzzled. “Everyone calls me Hilary.”

“I just thought: Tilly, Milly, Lily. That you’d be—err—never mind. Anyway, I’m Jilly—err—I mean Jill. Jill Gooder. How can I help you?”

Chapter 3

It turned out that the four young witches ran a human/witch dating agency called ‘Love Spell’.

“Where is it based?” I asked.

“We have two offices.” Hilary seemed to have been appointed spokeswoman. “One here in Candlefield and one in Washbridge.”

“Is it for any kind of sup?”

“No. It’s for witches only. Witches who want to find a husband in the human world.”

Now I understood why they had the two offices.

“But, isn’t that a little awkward? I mean humans aren’t supposed to know sups exist.”

“The witches who sign up with us all know the rules. If they find a partner they’re committed to keeping their ‘secret’ for life.”

“What about the Washbridge office?”

“As far as the humans are concerned, we’re just another dating agency. To keep our cover, we accept men and women. All of the women are matched with humans, but the more suitable men are matched with our witches.”

“How do you decide which men are suitable to be matched with a witch?”

“It’s difficult to put into words. It’s more a feeling than anything else.” The other three all nodded. “Some men just feel right.”

“Sounds great. How long have you been in business?”

“Almost five years now, and going from strength to strength. Until six months ago.”

Tilly, who up until now had said very little, chimed in. “It’s sabotage.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Milly said.

“What else could it be?”

“What happened six months ago?” I said.

The girls all began to have their say, and I slowly managed to assemble their story. Their business had been going great guns until a few months ago when suddenly something strange happened. They’d kept meticulous records, and knew the percentage of introductions which would normally result in a successful relationship. That figure had barely changed over the time the agency had been in operation. If anything, it had improved slightly as the girls had become more experienced at making the perfect match. Then six months ago, the success rate plummeted. More and more introductions were leading nowhere.

At this point in the discussion, things became heated for a while. It was obvious to me that the two girls based in Candlefield, Tilly and Lily, blamed the two based in Washbridge, and vice versa.

“What are your fees?” Hilary said. “Since things started to go wrong, our income has taken a knock. We can barely pay ourselves a wage.”

“Look, seeing as you are friends of Amber and Pearl, I’ll take on the case on the basis that if I uncover anything, and things go back to how they were, you can pay me out of the additional income. How does that sound?”

There I went again—a sucker if ever there was one—no wonder I couldn’t even afford to pay my own staff.

“That’s very fair.”

“See,” Amber said. “Didn’t I tell you our cousin was the best?”

***

How very strange! Usually when I went upstairs to my room above Cuppy C, I could guarantee that Barry would come running to me. But there was no sign of him. Maybe the twins had taken him around to Aunt Lucy’s?

Barry was a Labradoodle, and the softest thing you were ever likely to meet. I adored him, but I would have been the first to admit he wasn’t the brightest button.

Then I spotted his tail—sticking out from under my bed.

I knelt down and looked underneath.

“Barry?”

“I’m not here.” He had his eyes closed.

“I can see you.”

“No you can’t. I can’t see you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m hiding.”

“Why are you hiding?”

“Don’t want the snap.”

“Why don’t you come out and tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Not coming out. Don’t want the snap.”

If he didn’t want to come out, I probably wasn’t going to get him out. Barry was a big dog—a big soft dog it’s true, but big nonetheless. I had no idea what he was going on about, but he’d obviously got a bee in his bonnet about something.

The Love Spell girls had left when I went back downstairs.

“Thanks for agreeing to help them,” Amber said.

“No problem.”

“You should sign up with them, Jill,” Pearl said.

“I’ll have you know that I have not
one
, but
two
dates this week. With two different guys.”

“Wow! Are you seeing Drake again?”

“No, both dates are with humans.”

“Traitor.” Pearl laughed. “Who are the lucky men?”

“Jack Maxwell—”

“Isn’t he the policeman?”

“That’s the guy. He’s cooking a meal for me. And then I’m entertaining the luscious Luther.”

“He sounds hot,” Amber said. “Who’s he?”

“He’s my—err—he moved into my block of flats recently.”

“You have to let us know how you get on,” Pearl said. “My money is on Luscious Luther.”

***

“Aunt Lucy!” I called as I let myself into her house. I’d knocked, but there had been no response. “Aunt Lucy!”

I could hear sounds coming from the dining room, so I made my way over there. “Aunt Lucy!”

“Do you have to make so much noise?” Grandma was sitting at the head of the table. Sitting with her, were five other witches, all old and all ugly. What? It’s true! It looked like a convention for the ugly sisters.

“Sorry, Grandma. I was looking for Aunt Lucy.”

There was a pot of money on the table, and the witches were all holding playing cards.

“She went out with Fester.”

I resisted the urge to correct her. She knew full well Aunt Lucy’s boyfriend was called Lester. She’d only said it to wind me up.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Grandma managed a shrug. “Do you want to buy in?”

I was sorely tempted. I could see they were playing poker—a game my adoptive father had taught me. He’d occasionally allowed me to join him on his monthly poker game. He’d put up my buy-in, and we’d split the winnings. Truth be known, I fancied myself as a bit of a card sharp.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you chicken?” Grandma said—the other witches cackled.

“I have things to do.”

“Cluck, cluck cluck.” Grandma taunted me. That woman knew just how to press my buttons. Well I’d show her. She and her ugly friends would be laughing on the other side of their faces when I walked out with all of their money.

It’s like riding a bike. You never lose it. I called, bluffed and generally played them into the ground. Three hours later, and the only two people who still had cash were me and Grandma. The others were still around the table—cheering Grandma on.

One hand, I’d take the pot, and the next, she’d take it back.

“I’d better get going,” I said.

“One last hand.” Grandma was already dealing the cards.

“Okay, but this is definitely the last one.”

Jack of diamonds and king of spades. A mediocre hand, but I bet anyway. Grandma called.

On the flop came a three of hearts, six of diamonds and the jack of clubs. I had a pair, so bet again. Grandma called again.

King of diamonds came on the turn. Now I had two pair. Not bad. I bet again—bigger this time. Grandma called again.

King of clubs came on the river. I had a full house. I forced myself to think about ice cream because I didn’t want Grandma to read my mind, and find out what cards I had. The twins and I had used the ‘ice cream’ ploy once before.

I bet small—I wanted to tempt her in.

Grandma raised me. Bingo! I had her. I went all in. She called.

Yeah baby! I threw my cards face up onto the table. “Full house!”

I reached out and began to collect the cash when her bony fingers grabbed my hand.

“Not so fast, missy!” She turned her cards over. “Four of a kind!”

No! It wasn’t possible.

Grandma scooped up the money while cackling to herself.

“Thanks for the game, Jill,” she said. “Any time you want a rematch, let me know.”

I stomped out of the house without a word. I didn’t trust myself to say anything to her.

***

I was back at my flat. I needed ginger beer and custard creams, and I needed them now.

Thirty minutes later, and I was still fuming. What were the chances of her getting four of a kind? I could still see the look on her face when she threw the cards on the table. I could still see those cards. Hold on! Just wait a minute. They were jacks—four of them!

“You conniving little witch!”

She’d used magic to cheat me. I’d had two jacks in my hand, so how could she have had another four?

When would I ever learn?

***

I was still seething when I woke the next morning. What kind of grandmother would cheat her granddaughter out of her money? I had to find a way to get one up on her for a change. Yeah—like that was ever going to happen.

I was still intrigued by Jack Maxwell’s comment about the fingerprints. What was so strange about them? He’d made it clear he wasn’t prepared to share the information, so that left me with only one choice. I had to get inside the police station and find out for myself.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’d done it. When I’d been hired to investigate the so-called ‘Animal’ serial killer, I’d used the ‘invisible’ spell to get inside. It had worked, but there’d been a few close calls when the spell had worn off. Whenever I thought of that, I remembered my close-up of Jack Maxwell’s Tweety-pie socks. This time around, I was going to employ a different approach. I was a more experienced witch now, and I had more spells in my arsenal. Nothing could possibly go wrong this time.

***

“Oh no!” I scurried across the floor with the cat in hot pursuit. There was a small hole in the skirting board, but the wall was still a few metres away. The cat was getting closer; I could hear its paws pounding on the floor behind me. I slid the last few inches into the hole.

Phew, made it!

The cat was lying on his side, poking his paw into the hole. Fortunately for me, I was too far back for him to reach. Now, I knew how a mouse felt.

When I’d cast the ‘shrink’ spell, it hadn’t occurred to me there might be a cat in the police station. I’d been expecting dogs, but had assumed they’d be on a lead or caged. What on earth was a cat doing there? Wasn’t it against some kind of Health and Safety regulation? I had a good mind to report them. But right now, I had more pressing concerns. Like how to get out of this hole without becoming a cat’s lunch. If I’d had the presence of mind, I could have reversed the spell as soon as the cat appeared, but blind terror had taken hold, and I’d been too busy running for my life. Anyway, even if I had reversed the spell, that would have landed me in a whole lot of different trouble. I was in one of the conference rooms on the first floor of Washbridge police station—how would I have explained my very sudden appearance?

So, I was in a hole—literally. Nice work, Jill. There was only one thing to do in a situation like this.