Witch Is Why The Laughter Stopped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 14) (13 page)

“Presumably, you’ve told the signage people to come and take it down?”

“Of course we have,” Pearl said. “But they can’t come until tomorrow, so we have to keep the shop closed all day. It’s going to cost us a fortune.”

I decided against having a drink.

On my way out of Cuppy C, I bumped into three familiar characters, who I’d hoped never to see again: Ma Chivers, Alicia and Cyril.

“Hello, Jill,” Ma said.

“I haven’t seen the three of you for a while. Where have you been?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She sneered.

“No, not really.”

“We didn’t feel the need to
advertise
the fact that we’re back.” The three of them laughed, and then carried on down the street. What was that all about?
‘We didn’t feel the need to advertise?’—
Grandma’s advertising! It must have been Ma Chivers who’d sabotaged it.

Chapter 22

Mid-morning the next day, Jessica Lambeth turned up at my office unannounced.

“I hope you don’t mind me popping in like this, Jill.”

“Not at all, come in.”

She looked much better than on the last two occasions I’d seen her. Her eyes were bright again, and she no longer looked spaced-out.

“Are you okay now, Jessica?”

“Yeah, I feel so much better. I don’t know what came over me these last few days. I’ve been really out of it. And it isn’t just me. Paul’s back to his old self too. We’re getting on so much better now. I don’t know what happened. Maybe we’ve had some sort of virus?”

“Could be. Whatever it was, it seemed to knock you both for six. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me too. You must let me have your bill for the work you did. I know it turned out to be a waste of time in the end, but I don’t care. All that matters is I’ve got the old Paul back. Thanks again, Jill.”

She turned to leave.

“One last thing, Jessica.”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever heard of a bar called Bar Scarlet?”

“No, I can’t say I have. Why?”

“No reason. Thanks again for coming in. I’ll post my bill out to you.”

Winky came out from behind the screen.

“Ta-dah!” he said.

“Ta-dah what?”

“I’ve finished. The time machine is complete.”

This should be interesting.

He pulled back the screen to reveal the finished product. It was much bigger than I’d expected—almost as tall as I was.

“It’s rather big isn’t it? It will never get off the ground.”

“You really don’t know anything about time travel, do you?”

“Go on then. Enlighten me.”

“The machine doesn’t move. It projects whoever’s inside it through time.”

“That’s not how it should work.”

“Says who?”

“I’ve seen the movies and TV programmes.”

“You do realise they aren’t real?” Winky sighed.

“And
this
is?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. Whatever you say. I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath arguing with you when you’re obviously a spanner short of a toolbox. I just hope you’ve got your money ready to pay out on the bet.”

“Don’t count your hens.”

“Chickens.”

“What?”

“It’s don’t count your chickens.”

“Hens? Chickens? Same difference. Would you like to accompany me on the maiden voyage?”

“Me? Get in that thing? No chance!”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah, petrified.” There were all sorts of lights and dials on the side of the metal cabinet. Inside it was a single large lever. “You’re not getting me in there!”

“Wouldn’t you like to travel through time?”

“That would be great, but until somebody invents a time machine, I guess I’m stuck here.”

“The machine you’re waiting for is right here in front of you.”

“That remains to be seen. So where in time will you be travelling to, exactly?”

“I have absolutely no idea. The machine doesn’t work like that. I can’t dial in a date; it’s just pot-luck. It may be sometime in the future, or back in the past. That’s part of the excitement. Surely, you want to be involved?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.”

“Your loss.” He stepped into the cabinet. “Are you sure? This is your last chance.”

“I’m positive. Just make sure you’ve got your money ready to pay me.”

He pushed the lever, and the cabinet began to vibrate. Lights flashed on and off, and steam rose slowly from the outlets on the side, obscuring the cabinet.

“Winky, are you all right?”

The cabinet carried on vibrating for a couple of minutes, and then suddenly, it stopped. The lights stopped flashing, and slowly, the steam cleared. There was no sign of Winky. The cabinet was empty.

“Winky, where are you? Winky?”

He was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t see how he could have got out of the cabinet without me seeing him. I checked under my desk and under the sofa, but there was no sign of him.

“Winky, where are you?”

Suddenly, the door to the outer office opened, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

“Jill, are you okay?” Jules was looking at me as though I’d gone crazy.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just lost the cat.”

“Where’s he gone?”

“I don’t know, Jules. That’s why he’s lost.”

“Sorry. Maybe he got out of the window?”

It was slightly ajar.

“Yeah, I suppose he must have.”

“What’s that thing?” Jules was looking at the time machine.

“That—err—that’s a sort of experimental—err—lie detector.”

“It’s very big for a lie detector, isn’t it?”

“It’s a new kind. Instead of having wires attached to your arm, you simply step inside it. When you answer questions, the lights flash if you’re not telling the truth.”

“How very clever. But why do you need one?”

“I’m testing it for a friend.”

“Can I give it a try?”

“No, sorry. It isn’t ready yet. There’s a lot more testing to be done on it.”

I spent the next ten minutes looking for Winky, but he was nowhere to be found. This had to be some kind of elaborate trick. He’d probably sneaked out the window when I wasn’t looking.

I couldn’t hang around there all day waiting for him to turn up, so I magicked myself over to Aunt Lucy’s house. It was like deja-vu. She and Lester were arguing again.

“Hi, Aunt Lucy. Is it okay for me to come in?”

“Of course. Take no notice of us.”

“I was just on my way out, anyway.” Lester started for the door. “It’s no good me trying to talk to Lucy while she’s in this mood.”

“I take it he still wants to go ahead with the Grim Reaper application?” I said, after he’d left.

“It’s far worse than that.” Aunt Lucy took a seat at the kitchen table. “He’s actually been offered the job.”

“As a Grim Reaper?”

“Yes.”

“Is he going to take it?”

“He says so. I’ve told him it’s a ridiculous idea, but what do I know? He won’t listen to me. Anyway, never mind that. Have you any news on Gloria Cloverleaf?”

“Nothing concrete yet, but I do have a hunch which I need to follow up on. I may know more later today.”

Aunt Lucy and I had tea and cupcakes. By the time I was ready to leave, she was much brighter.

“Hopefully, when Lester comes back, he will have seen sense,” she said.

I didn’t say so, but I was pretty sure that Lester would take the job. He didn’t want to be out of work, and unable to bring any money in. Hopefully, the job would work out for him, and Aunt Lucy would come around in time.

The twins were behind the tea-room counter in Cuppy C.

“I see you’ve got your old sign back up.”

“Thank goodness.” Pearl looked mightily relieved.

“Yes, but we’re still getting complaints,” Amber said. “You wouldn’t believe how many people have asked if everything is still free. They’re such children.”

“Have the signage people agreed to make a replacement?”

“No, because they still insist that they provided exactly what we ordered.”

I glanced over at the cake counter. Flora and Laura were there, and they seemed to be giggling about something.

Hmm?

Daze had arranged to meet me for a coffee. She arrived five minutes later.

“Thanks for the tip-off about Bar Scarlet, Jill. I don’t know how that one slipped under our radar. It was one of the biggest operations of its kind.”

“Have you closed it down?”

“Yes. All those involved have been arrested, and are behind bars in Candlefield. They won’t see the light of day for a long time. It’s one of the worst crimes imaginable—providing human blood for vampires in the human world.”

“What will happen to Bar Scarlet?”

“It’s been boarded up, and we’ve removed all the blood transfusion equipment so no one else can get hold of it. But of course, there’s going to be a knock-on effect.”

“How do you mean?”

“They’d been operating out of there for quite some time, and had a large clientele, as you probably noticed.”

“Yeah, I saw a lot of vampires going in and out.”

“Exactly. Those vampires have been getting a regular supply of fresh human blood for goodness knows how long. Now we’ve turned off the tap, do you think they’ll all simply shrug their shoulders, and go back to synthetic blood?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Hopefully, most of them will. But there are bound to be some who can’t shake the craving for human blood. If they can’t get it on tap—it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“That could be bad news for the people of Washbridge, couldn’t it?”

“Very. I’ve sent extra Rogue Retrievers over there to keep an eye on events. If you see anything, let us know. It could be very dangerous for humans in Washbridge just now.”

***

After Daze had left, I spent some time in my room above Cuppy C. Then, in the evening, I made my way to Candlefield Social. I was one of the first to arrive. It was the last night of Kenny Pope’s run. I managed to nab a good seat right at the front, and ordered myself a ginger beer. I’d been tempted to order something stronger, but I wanted to keep my wits about me.

Slowly but surely, the club filled up. The punters were obviously looking forward to the night’s entertainment. I could hear a lot of them saying that they’d heard very good reports about Kenny Pope.

Ten minutes before the show was due to start, I spotted the comedian in the wings. Just as I’d suspected, he was casting a spell on the audience. But I was ready for him.

A few minutes later, Kenny Pope walked onto the stage. He went straight into his routine. It was the same one I’d heard him practising the other day. The jokes were terrible, but this time I wasn’t the only one who thought so. The audience sat, stony-faced. You could have heard a pin drop. After the punchline of the first gag, only a couple of people laughed. There was a look of concern on Pope’s face. He carried on. His next joke was met with stony silence. After the third joke, people were getting restless.

“Rubbish!” someone at the back shouted.

“You’re not funny!” a man on the front row yelled.

“Get off!”

After each joke, more and more people began to heckle him. Someone threw something on stage. It looked like a half-eaten apple. The shouts of,
‘Get off!’
were getting louder. In the end, he had no option but to leave the stage. I almost felt sorry for the man.

I made my way backstage, and found him in his dressing room, which was no more than a glorified cupboard. He was in a chair, with his head in his hands.

“What do you want?” He looked up.

“I’d like a quick chat about your performance tonight.”

“Come to gloat? Well you can get out! Leave me alone.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know why your act went down like a lead balloon tonight, Kenny?”

“Who are you? What do you mean?”

“It was because I blocked your spell.”

He looked at me more intently. “What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. I blocked the spell that you’ve been using to make people laugh at your jokes—to make people think you’re funny. Tonight, the audience saw and heard you for what you really are. You’re not funny, Kenny. You’re not a comedian.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because the spell you’ve been using is dangerous. It’s killing people. But you already know that. It happened in the human world, and now it’s happening here.”

“That’s just a coincidence. It has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you! The spell works just fine on most people; it makes them laugh at your jokes. But for those people who rarely laugh out loud, the effect of the spell can be delayed by up to a day. And then, when it finally kicks in, it does so with devastating effect. You must have realised that, so why didn’t you stop?”

“You have no proof of any of this.”

“There’s plenty of proof. For a start, there’s all the people in the human world who died laughing after they’d been to your gig.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never worked in the human world.”

“Not under your real name, perhaps.”

“Not under any name.”

“Come on, Kenny. Or should I call you Lenny? The curly hair and sunglasses isn’t fooling anyone.”

I could see in his eyes that he knew the game was up.

“Is that why you came back to the sup world? Were you hoping the spell wouldn’t have such a devastating effect on sups? If so, you were wrong. Three people have died so far, and all because you wanted to make the audience laugh.”