Witch Is Why The Laughter Stopped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 14) (6 page)

“What about these dishes?”

“They can wait.”

Chapter 8

Jack was up and out, bright and early the next morning. When I eventually did stir, I immediately remembered Jen’s visit from the night before. After I’d showered and dressed, I checked through the front window. Jen’s car had gone, but Blake’s was still there.

Ten minutes later, when he set off for work, I hurried outside, jumped in my car and followed him. Blake had told me where he worked, when we were chatting at the housewarming party, so I pretty much knew the route he’d be taking. I stayed several cars behind him. Thankfully, there were no delays at the toll bridge. When he was about three miles outside Washbridge, he took a right turn, which caught me off guard; I’d been expecting him to carry straight on. Perhaps he knew a shortcut I didn’t.

After no more than a mile, he suddenly pulled up. There was a young woman standing at the side of the road. She’d obviously been waiting for him. After she’d climbed into the passenger seat, he drove off. Perhaps it was a co-worker who he gave a lift to each day. I half expected him to do a U-turn to get back on the main road, but instead he carried straight on.

Eventually he turned onto the Speedlink Industrial Estate, which was full of relatively new industrial units. He pulled up outside one called Pring Springs. I stayed about a hundred metres up the road. It was difficult to see from that distance, but it looked as though the two figures inside the car leaned towards one another. Were they kissing?

Oh bum!

Once the young woman had gone inside the building, Blake turned the car around, and drove back off the estate. I followed him. This time he did make his way back onto the main Washbridge road, and to his place of work. I carried on to my office.

That was all I needed! It had never, for a minute, occurred to me that Blake might actually be seeing someone behind Jen’s back. When she’d mentioned her concern that he was keeping something from her, I’d automatically assumed it was because he had to hide the fact that he was a wizard. That was why I’d sided with him, and why I’d offered to pretend to follow him. But now, I was really concerned—what exactly had I just seen? Could it have been perfectly innocent? Had he simply been giving a lift to a friend? Or was there something more to it? I had no choice now; I had to find out what was really going on.

“Morning, Jill,” Jules said when I walked into the office. I was miles away, still thinking about Blake.

“Morning, Jules. I see you’re knitting again.”

“I’m getting much faster. Look.” She held up the scarf of many widths.

“Very nice, Jules. Very nice.”

“I’m going to knit some socks next.”

“You don’t think that might be a little ambitious?”

“I don’t think so. Look how quickly I’ve done this scarf.”

“Yes, well, anyway, I’ve got something to tell you. I spoke to Peter last night.”

“About Jethro and Sebastian?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, Sebastian does have a girlfriend.”

Her face fell.

“But, the good news is that Jethro doesn’t.”

“Oh?” She was smiling again.

“And there’s even better news.”

“What’s that?”

“Apparently, Jethro asked about you after the housewarming.”

“About me? Are you sure it was me, and not that Megan what’s-her-face, your next-door neighbour?”

“It was definitely you. He specifically said the young woman who was with the guy with bad acne.”

“That does sound like me. What do you think I should do? Should I contact him? Do you have his phone number?”

“That’s the last thing you should do. Take it from someone who is something of an expert when it comes to the opposite sex.”

What? Why are you lot laughing?

“The trick is to play hard to get.”

“How do you mean?”

“If you ring him now, he’ll have the upper hand. But if Peter just happens to mention that you’re now single, and Jethro comes chasing after you, then you’ll have all the power.”

“I don’t really want the power. I just want a boyfriend.”

“Trust me on this, Jules. It never fails.”

“Okay. As long as you’re sure?”

“Absolutely sure. You’re talking to the master.”

When I walked through to my office, I could hear Winky hard at work behind the screen.

“How’s it coming along, Winky?”

“Nearly there. Another few days, and it should be finished.”

“What are you really building?”

“I’ve already told you. It’s a time machine.”

“Why don’t you just pay up, and concede that this is never going to work.”

“I don’t think so. When it’s finished, I’ll give you a demonstration, then you’ll have to apologise for ever doubting me.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Halfway through the morning, Jules put through a call from Maisy Topp.

“Maisy, I’m afraid I don’t have any news for you, yet.”

“That’s okay. Toto is back home.”

“Really? How?”

“Someone found him roaming the streets, and checked the address on his collar.”

“That’s great news.”

“Please post me your bill, and I’ll pay it straightaway.”

Before I could say anything else, she’d hung up.

Something was bothering me about Maisy’s telephone call. It was her tone—she should have sounded overjoyed at having her dog back, but instead she’d sounded rather subdued. I called Boris Froggatt.

“It’s Jill Gooder. I came to see you the other day.”

“I remember.”

“I wondered if you’d had any luck tracing your dog?”

“Yes. He’s back home.”

“That’s great news. Did someone find him?”

“No, he just turned up at the door.”

“I see.”

How very strange. Two missing dogs. Two frantic owners. And then within the space of twenty-four hours both dogs suddenly reappear? Way too much of a coincidence for my liking.

***

The sudden, loud sound made Winky jump off the sofa and hide underneath it. It was music; incredibly loud music. Jules came rushing in.

“What on earth is that, Jill?”

“It sounds like it’s coming from next door. I’d better take a look.”

I made my way out of the office and along the landing. The building work looked as though it was more or less finished. There was only one workman still there, and he seemed to be tidying up. They’d knocked three small offices into one large room, and sealed up two of the old doors.

The remaining door was open, so I went inside. The transformation was incredible. The room was full of equipment: cross trainers, rowing machines, treadmills and any number of loose weights. The music was blaring out of speakers which were located along the walls on all sides. The noise was deafening.

At the far side of the room, Brent and George were working out on a couple of cross trainers. They hadn’t seen me come in, and they certainly hadn’t heard me.

When I was only a few feet away, they finally spotted me.

“Jill!” George shouted.

“Hiya!” Brent shouted even louder.

I put my hands to my ears, and pointed to the speakers. “Can you turn it down?”

George picked up a remote, and lowered the volume to a much more reasonable level.

“Come to check out our new place, Jill?”

“Not really. I can’t hear myself think next door with that music.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” Brent didn’t look very sorry.

“Are you sure we can’t persuade you to let us have your office?” George said. “It would be ideal for a sauna.”

“I’ve been through all this before with my previous neighbours. It was my father’s office for many years, and it holds very dear memories for me. If it was just any old office, then maybe you could persuade me, but I’m not giving up Dad’s old office. And I don’t expect to have to put up with that level of noise from in here.”

“Of course not,” Brent said. “When we’re open, we shan’t have the music up so loud, because people will want to talk. We’ll keep the volume down to a reasonable level.”

“I hope so. I don’t want to have to go to Zac with this.”

“There’ll be no need for that.” George assured me. “You’ll see. You’ll hardly know we’re here.”

While I was there, I decided to get something else off my chest.

“Jules tells me you’ve been trying to poach her to come and work for you?”

“Every time we see Jules, she always looks bored. When I popped my head into your office the other day she was knitting. She’s a young woman! She should be working in a vibrant organisation! Not in some dowdy old office. No offence.”

‘No offence’?

“You know what I mean?” he continued. “Don’t you think she’d benefit from working somewhere more ‘now’?”

“I’ll have you know that my business is very ‘now’.”

They both grinned.

“Jules is quite happy where she is, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make any more approaches to her.”

“We won’t,” George said. “We’ve sorted out a receptionist now. We’ve just got to recruit a few additional instructors.”

“How’s everything else coming along?”

“The building work’s finished, and most of the equipment has been installed. We’re pretty much good to go.”

“I assume you’ll be opening soon then?”

“Yeah, not long now. We haven’t finalised a date, but it’s going to be within the next couple of weeks. There’s still time for you to take advantage of the early bird membership offer. It’s fifty percent off if you sign up before opening day. If you do, we can get you in shape in no time.”

Get me in shape? Cheek!

Chapter 9

I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I knew I’d better talk to the twins to see if I could change their minds about taking on the shop in Washbridge. I didn’t fancy my chances, but if I didn’t at least try, I’d have Grandma on my back again.

When I magicked myself over there, I found them sitting at a corner table. They were staring down at their drinks, and looked rather unhappy.

“What’s wrong, girls?”

“Nothing,” Amber said.

“Obviously, something is.”

“You know that shop we were going to open in Washbridge?” Pearl looked up from her cup. “The one opposite Grandma’s wool shop.”

“Yeah?”

“Someone beat us to it. We got a call today to say it had already been let.”

“That must be disappointing.”

“It would have been great,” Amber said. “We were going to take turns working in the two shops. We would have had the best of both worlds.”

“That’s a real shame. I thought it was a great idea,” I lied.

“Grandma didn’t.” Amber finished the last of her coffee. “She was dead set against it.”

“It’s just not fair,” Pearl said.

“We can still look for somewhere else.” Amber was obviously trying to put on a brave face. “There must be lots of other empty shops in Washbridge.”

“I guess so.” Pearl shrugged. “We’ll just have to keep looking.”

“Are you sure?” I had to cut this idea off at the knees. “Maybe this was a sign?”

“Absolutely sure. It might take us a while, but we’ll find somewhere.”

Oh bum!

Just then, a man seated by the window started laughing really loudly. Everyone looked over at him. I immediately got a sense of deja vu.

“What’s with him?” Pearl said.

“I don’t know.”

The laughter grew louder and louder. He had the same panicked expression on his face as the woman in Holo. After a few moments, he staggered to his feet, but only managed a couple of paces before he fell to the floor. Another man, sitting close by, rushed to his side.

“Should I call an ambulance?” someone shouted.

“It’s too late.”

Something was definitely wrong. That was twice now that I’d seen someone start to laugh uncontrollably, and then drop dead. It was very scary.

***

I’d arranged to meet Patricia Lewis, the widow of Joseph Lewis—the man in the article I’d come across when looking through the archives for news items on lost dogs. Even though Toto and Hector had been reunited with their owners, I was still curious to learn the details of this murder.

Patricia Lewis wore her hair in a bun. She reminded me a little of Sue Zann, the Buninator.

“Jill Gooder?” She answered the door wearing slippers.

“That’s me.”

“Do come in. Would you like a drink?”

“No, thanks. I’ve not long since had one.”

We went through to the lounge, and I took a seat in the armchair. Patricia sat opposite me.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about Joseph’s murder?” She picked up a woollen jumper, from the small coffee table next to the sofa, and began to squeeze it much like a child with a comfort blanket. “What do you want to know?”

“I came across an article about your husband’s murder when I was researching another case. Am I right in thinking that no one has ever been charged?”

“That’s right. The police have all but dropped the case. They seem to be trusting to fortune now.”

“How do you mean?”

“They have the murderer’s DNA. They ran a check against their databases nationwide, but there was no match. So, unless the man walks into a police station and gives himself up, the only way he’s likely to be caught is if his DNA is taken in relation to some other offence. I don’t hold out much hope after all this time.”

“This may sound kind of weird, but I came across your husband’s case when I was searching the archives of The Bugle for articles on lost dogs.”

“Is that something you specialise in?”

“No. In fact, I’ve never had a lost dog case until recently. The article about your husband mentioned that his dog had gone missing.”

“That’s right. Desi—that’s what we used to call him. He was a lovely dog—a wire-haired terrier. Joseph treated him like a son, and was devastated when he went missing.”

“How long was that before your husband was murdered?”

“Only a matter of days. I think there must have been a gang of dog thieves in the area because a colleague of Joseph’s had her dog taken around the same time. Ironically, on the morning of the day he was killed, Joseph actually seemed much brighter. He was convinced he was going to get Desi back.”

“What made him think that?”

“I don’t know. He said it would be his present to himself.”

“Present?”

“Didn’t you know? Joseph was murdered on his birthday. He was wearing the jumper that I’d knitted for him. I’m not very good at knitting, but Joseph said he loved it. He was kind hearted like that. That was the last time I spoke to him. The next thing I heard was when the police called to tell me he’d been murdered.” She pressed the jumper tight to her chest. “They gave me his clothes a few weeks later.” She glanced down at the jumper. “I can’t bring myself to throw this away. I had to wash it though. It was covered in dog hairs.”

“Desi’s?”

“Yes, and lots of others too. Joseph loved dogs. All dogs.”

“You said a colleague of his also had her dog stolen?”

“Yes. She was on Washbridge Council with my husband. Now, what was her name? Charlene—Charlene West, that was it. I remember that her dog turned up again, out of the blue, the day before Joseph was murdered.”

As I made my way back to the car, I remembered something that Maisy Topp had said when she’d first come to see me. She’d been in a hurry because she had a meeting—a council meeting. Coincidence? I didn’t believe in them.

I called Boris Froggatt.

“You really must stop contacting me,” he said. “I’ve told you—I have Hector back.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Froggatt, I just need you to answer one quick question, please. Are you by any chance on Washbridge Council?”

“Yes. I have been for three years now.”

“Thank you, Mr Froggatt. Thank you very much.”

***

Jack was working late. He’d called during the day to say it would probably be close to midnight before he got in, so I’d arranged to go over to Kathy’s after work. When I arrived, Peter was there.

“I didn’t expect you to be home yet, Peter.”

“It makes such a difference having another employee. Now I’ve got Sebastian
and
Jethro, we’re getting through the work in a fraction of the time. Hopefully, this will become the norm.”

“Speaking of Jethro, I mentioned to Jules that he might be interested in seeing her.”

“What did she say?”

“She was very excited, but I told her it was probably best to let him make the first approach—to play hard to get.”

“Yeah.” Kathy nodded. “That’s what I always did.”

Peter and I both stared at her, open-mouthed.

“What? It’s true.”

“I seem to remember you chased after me relentlessly until you wore me down, and I asked you out.” Peter grinned.

“You never did have a particularly good memory.”

“I don’t have Jules’s mobile phone number,” I said. “But you can give Jethro my office number; he can call her on that.”

Kathy had prepared pizza and chips.

“This is just what I needed, Kathy,” I said through a mouth full of pizza.

“It was all I could be bothered with, to be honest. I’m shattered. You haven’t forgotten it’s my big day tomorrow, have you?”

“Big day?”

“I might have known you’d forget. It’s my first day presenting at Wool TV.”

“Oh, yeah. So it is.”

“You have to watch!”

“I’ll be glued to the screen.” The truth was, gluing me to the screen would be the only way to get me to watch it. “What time does it go out?”

“The live broadcast is at two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Oh dear! I’ll be working then.”

“Don’t worry, it’s repeated three or four times during the day. It’ll be on in the evening, so check the listings and make sure you tune in. Get Jack to watch it too, and Mrs V and Jules.”

“If I do that, it will double the audience figures.”

“Cheek! I’ll have you know Wool TV has tens of thousands of viewers.”

“Are you nervous?”

“I’m absolutely terrified, but I’m excited as well. Who knows where it might lead? I could end up on national TV.”

“Probably best to walk before you run.”

“Is it time yet, Mummy?” Lizzie came running in. “Is it time?”

Both kids were standing next to the table. They obviously had something on their minds.

“I think so. Auntie Jill has more or less finished her dinner, haven’t you, Auntie Jill?”

“Err—yeah.” What was going on?

“Lizzie and Mikey have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I hated surprises.

“You have to go with them, Auntie Jill.”

“Right.”

Lizzie grabbed one of my hands; Mikey grabbed the other. Between them, they led me to Mikey’s bedroom. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw the drum on the chest of drawers, and my heart sank.

“I thought you kept your drums at TomTom, Mikey?”

“I have to keep my main drum kit there. Mum and Dad won’t let me have it at home. But I still have my old drum here.”

“So what’s this surprise you want to show me?”

“Go and sit in the chair over there please, Auntie Jill,” Lizzie said, half pushing me towards the corner of the room. Then she stood next to Mikey who had put the drum around his neck.

Oh, no! Please no! What had I done to deserve this?

“One, two, three.” Lizzie counted them in.

Mikey began to thump the drum, and Lizzie began to sing. I’d never heard anything quite like it. Lizzie’s voice would have shattered glass, and Mikey seemed to have no sense of rhythm.

I glanced to my left, and saw that Kathy and Peter were standing just outside the door, both of them in hysterics. I’d make them pay for this.

The torture went on for another ten minutes before the two kids took a bow. I clapped.

“That was very good, wasn’t it, Auntie Jill,” Kathy said, as she and Peter came into the room.

“Excellent,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps you’d like to hear another song?” Kathy grinned.

“I’d love to, but I have to get back home. I’ve left a thing in the thingumajig. But you were very good, Lizzie. Well done, Mikey. Keep practising.” You need it.

When we got outside, I turned on Kathy and Peter.

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” Little Miss Innocent said. “Surely you want to encourage your nephew and niece in their musical interests?”

“I noticed you two didn’t come into the room.”

“We have to listen to it all week,” Peter said. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t have to suffer too.”

***

My ears were still ringing when I got back home. It was still light, so I looked out of the back window to see how the lawn was doing. There were two new molehills! I wasn’t going to put up with this any longer. Tomorrow I’d find an expert who could tell me the best way to get rid of an unwanted mole.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mrs Rollo hard at work in her garden. Just then, I felt a vibration in my pocket. It was the Z-Call button. I hadn’t heard from Z-Watch for over six months. I checked the alarm; there was a zombie somewhere in my vicinity.

Not good.

When I glanced again out of the back window, I saw them. Over the back fence, coming through the field towards Mrs Rollo’s house, were two zombies.

Mrs Rollo was oblivious to the imminent danger. She was so busy watering her plants that she hadn’t noticed the undead heading towards her. I had to do something, so I dashed next door.

“Mrs Rollo.”

“Hello, Jill? I didn’t see you there.”

“Sorry. Do you remember what you said about teaching me to bake sometime?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“How about now? Right now would be a really good time.”

“I’m just watering the—”

“Please, Mrs Rollo. I have to bake something special for err—Jack’s err—birthday. Will you help me?”

“Of course.”

I glanced over her shoulder. The zombies were almost at the fence.

“Let’s get inside now, shall we?”

“What about my watering?”