by Adele Abbott
“You’re the boss. How do we get there?”
“It’s some distance from here, so I suggest we use magic.”
“Okay.”
Back in the alleyway, Gwen was about to cast a spell when I said, “Would you mind if I magicked us both over there? My knees are still sore from when you landed on me the last time.”
“Fair enough. I’m sorry about that.”
She gave me her hand and I magicked us to the riverbank where Liam had supposedly disappeared, and may even have been murdered.
“You weren’t kidding when you said it was muddy, were you?” Gwen was trying to pull her heels out of the ground.
“I did warn you.”
“Whereabouts exactly is this incident supposed to have taken place, Jill?”
“Over there. The police found the boy’s blood on those rocks.”
It was slow progress, but Gwen managed to make her way over there.
“Here?”
“Yeah, that’s it. How does this thing work?”
“I’m going to put myself into a trance, but to do that I’ll need absolute silence from you.”
“Of course. Would you like me to move away?”
“That won’t be necessary. Just make sure you don’t make any noise.”
“Okay. Got it.”
She’d no sooner closed her eyes than a wasp started to buzz around my head.
“Shoo!” I tried to bat it away.
Gwen opened her eyes. “Jill, I just told you that I need absolute silence.”
“Sorry, there was a wasp. It’s gone now.”
“Right. I’ll try again.”
Unbelievable! The wasp was back, but even though it was buzzing around my nose, I daren’t make a noise or move in case I disturbed her again.
Fortunately, after a few minutes, it flew away.
I was watching Gwen for any indication she’d made a connection, but her expression never changed. I was just beginning to think she’d dozed off when she opened her eyes again.
“Well? What did you see, Gwen?”
“Nothing of any consequence has ever happened here.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“Just what I said. No abduction or murder ever took place here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. My powers have never failed me.”
“What about the blood?”
She shrugged.
“What does that shrug mean?”
“It means I don’t know how it got there, but it wasn’t the result of a murder.”
“But surely you must have seen it?”
“It doesn’t work like that. Do you realise how much activity there has been here since the dawn of time? A lot. I just get the briefest glimpse as it flashes by. If there had been a murder or violent abduction, I would have spotted it, but there wasn’t.”
“Did you see anyone fishing here?”
“Loads of people.”
“A young boy?”
“Lots of them. Look, I promised to tell you if there had been a murder or an abduction, and there was neither. Now, I need to get back to Candlefield. I’ve had quite enough of the human world for one day.”
“Okay, thanks for trying.”
Alone on the riverbank, I wasn’t sure what to make of that. On the one hand, it seemed to back up Phil Black’s claims that he’d had nothing to do with his stepbrother’s disappearance (and possible murder). On the other, it left me with absolutely nothing to go on. It even had me questioning whether Gwen had any powers at all, or if it was all some kind of elaborate hoax. The fact that Grandma believed in her suggested she probably was legitimate because it would take something special to pull the wool over Grandma’s eyes.
Before I could dwell on this any further, my phone rang.
“Jill, it’s Don Keigh.”
“Hi, Don. I don’t have any news for you yet, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. It’s happened again. This time it was Freddie Primrose, AKA Custard Pie Face. We’d almost finished our meeting when he stood up, gripped his chest, and then collapsed.”
“Have you called the police, Don?”
“They’re on their way. The paramedics arrived a few minutes ago and they’ve already pronounced him dead. There’s no way this is a coincidence, and no one is going to persuade me otherwise. I think you and I need to talk again as soon as possible.”
“Do you want me to come over there now?”
“Not right now. There’s too much happening here at the moment. Why don’t I give you a call tomorrow, and we’ll arrange something?”
“Okay, I’ll speak to you then.”
This day was going from bad to worse. I was getting nowhere with the Phil Black case, and now there had been another clown death.
***
I magicked myself over to Cuppy C.
“Are you alright, Jill?” Amber said. “You look really stressed out.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Coffee?”
“No, I’ve not long since had one. Could I get a cup of tea, please?”
“Sure. Anything to eat with that?”
“No, just the tea.”
“Why are you so stressed?”
“It’s work. Every case I’m working on seems to be going nowhere.”
“You’ll sort it out. You always do.”
“I hope so.”
“Hey, Jill,” Pearl said. “Were your ears burning this morning?”
“Why?”
“I overheard Grandma talking to Mum. She was furious with you.”
“I don’t need three guesses why. The hotel?”
“Yeah, I didn’t catch everything she said, but she was livid.”
“I don’t care. Her hotel opened for business on Saturday, and since then there’s been an influx of sups into the village. It turns out that all of them are new to the human world, and they have no clue how to behave. I caught two vampires as they were about to attack the vicar.”
“Seriously?”
“If I’d been one minute later, they’d have drained him of blood. I had to drag the vampires back to the hotel, and then I let Grandma have a piece of my mind. I told her she had no right to target advertising at sups who had never been to the human world before, unless she made sure they knew how to behave.”
“We have one of the brochures for her hotel in the back.” Amber went to get it and handed it to me. The front cover read:
Hotel First Time.
The ideal resort for sups on their first visit to the human world.
It included several photos of the hotel and Middle Tweaking. All in all, it was a very polished brochure, which did a good job of selling the hotel. No wonder it was fully booked.
***
After magicking myself back to Washbridge, I drove to Stanley Trotter’s house. I was hoping to find him in this time, and it seemed I was in luck because I could hear voices inside: A man and a woman. They were talking and laughing, but when I rang the doorbell, they fell silent. I waited but no one came to the door. I tried the bell again with the same result, so I knocked loudly on one of the door’s glass panels. I was just about to give up when a man in his late sixties opened the door. He was smartly dressed and reminded me a little of Colonel Briggs.
“Yes, young lady, how can I help you?”
“Mr Trotter?”
“At your service.”
“I’m very sorry to disturb you. My name is Jill Maxwell. I’m a private investigator, working for Margaret Plant, the lady who lives in the property which backs onto your garden.”
“I know Margaret.”
“Something was stolen from her house the week before last.”
“How dreadful. How exactly can I help?”
“It appears the thief got into her house through the kitchen window. That means he must have come through the garden of one of the adjoining properties. I wondered if you’d seen anything unusual. Any strangers hanging around, t
hat sort of thing?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Would it be possible to look at your garden, Mr Trotter? I realise you have company at the moment, so I can come back later if you prefer.”
“You’re welcome to look around now. There isn’t anyone else here.”
“Oh? I thought I heard you talking to someone.”
“No, I live alone. You must have heard the TV.”
“My mistake.”
“Come in. I’ll show you to the garden.”
“Thanks.”
He led the way through the house, which was spotlessly clean and beautifully furnished.
“You have a lovely home, Mr Trotter.”
“Thank you. It’s this way, through the conservatory.”
The garden, which was considerably smaller than Margaret’s, had high hedges on two sides. At the far end was the wall I’d seen from Margaret’s property.
“Margaret told me that these two properties were originally built and owned by the same family.”
“So I believe.”
“Is it okay if I take a walk down the garden?”
“Help yourself, young lady.”
He followed me down the path to the wall. As I got closer, I noticed that the padlock on the door wasn’t locked.
“Is this door usually left unlocked?”
“Err, no. It’s kept locked most of the time. I—err—took in a parcel for Margaret the other day while she was out. I used the door when I took it through to her. I must have forgotten to lock it afterwards.”
“Do you go through to Margaret’s garden very often?”
“Hardly ever. I’ve been thinking of getting the door bricked up for some time, but it’s one of those things I’ve never got around to.”
“Right, thank you very much for your time, Mr Trotter.”
“My pleasure.”
As I walked back to the car, I considered the possibility that Mr Trotter might have stolen the manuscript. His garden provided the easiest access, and he’d seemed a little flustered when I’d asked why the door between the gardens was unlocked. Surely, if the postman had been unable to deliver a parcel, he would have asked someone on the same street to take it in.
That wasn’t the only thing that was bothering me. Mr Trotter had denied having company, but the voices I’d heard were not the TV. He had been talking to a woman. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but why had he felt the need to lie?
***
I hadn’t exactly had the best of days, but at least I had one thing to look forward to—it was time to collect my new car. I just had to hope this scrapheap would keep going long enough to get me to the car lot. I crossed my fingers and turned the key. The engine made an obscene noise, but it did at least start.
Phew!
I arrived at Carr’s Cars just before four o’clock. My new car was parked outside the office, and it looked even better than I remembered.
I parked my old banger out of sight, around the back of the building, and made my way into the office.
“Jill, you’re very punctual,” Charlie Carr greeted me. “Come inside. I have all the paperwork ready for you.”
He offered me a coffee, but I declined because I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. That man gave me a serious case of the creeps.
“Right, Jill, this is the agreement for the car. I just need a signature, there and there. Thank you. As I recall, we didn’t get the chance to discuss the extended warranty when you were here before. I assume you’ll want to buy one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Are you sure? Repairs can be very expensive, and then there’s the bodywork to consider.”
“I’ll take my chances. I definitely don’t want to buy an extended warranty.”
“As you wish. Where did you park your—err—vehicle?”
“Around the back. Here are the keys.”
“Thanks. Happy motoring, Jill.”
Even though it wasn’t brand new, the blue car still had that new car smell that I love. When I turned the key in the ignition, the engine actually purred. I’d deliberately finished work early, so that I didn’t have to rush home. I wanted to take her for a little spin.
I’d only been driving for a few minutes when I heard a knocking sound. Oh no! Don’t tell me this thing was going to break down already. Maybe I should have taken the extended warranty after all.
The car was driving perfectly, but I daren’t ignore the knocking sound in case it did some permanent damage. I pulled into the first lay-by I came to, and turned off the engine, but the knocking sound continued. How could that be? It took me a few seconds to work out that it was coming from the glove compartment, so I reached over and pulled it open.
I got the shock of my life when a little head appeared.
“Hi, there,” the little man said.
“Who are you?”
“Henry.”
“Why are you in my car?”
“I’m a car elf.”
“I didn’t realise there were such things.”
“There aren’t many of us left. You’re lucky to have me.”
“And you live in the glove compartment, do you?”
“Yes. It’s been my home since this car came off the production line.”
“Don’t you scare people? Wasn’t the previous owner a human?”
“Yes, but only sups can see us, and you’re the first sup to own this car. What’s your name, by the way?”
“I’m Jill. What exactly do you do?”
“Nothing really. Just hang around in here.”
“Don’t you get bored?”
“Sometimes, but I won’t now I have you to talk to.”
Great!
Chapter 16
The next morning, by the time I made it downstairs, Florence and Jack were already seated at the kitchen table.
“Morning, Mummy.” Florence was tucking into her cornflakes.
“Good morning, my little flower.” I planted a kiss on top of her head.
Before I could give Jack a kiss, he handed me an envelope.
“Happy anniversary, darling.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Err, happy anniversary, sweetheart. I—err—I left my card upstairs. I’ll just go and get it.”
I know what you’re thinking: that I’d forgotten to buy a card. Well, you’re wrong. I’d bought one a couple of weeks earlier, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember where I’d put it. It would be somewhere Jack wouldn’t find it, but now, neither could I.
I spent the next ten minutes going through all the drawers in our bedroom, but there was no sign of it. Defeated, I sank back on the bed, and was trying to figure out what to do when I heard little footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Mummy, why have you got all the drawers open?”
“I was looking for something.”
“Shall I get Daddy’s versary card for you?”
“It’s anniversary, not—hang on, do you know where the versary, err anniversary card is?”
“You put it in my cupboard, Silly Billy.”
“Of course I did. Let’s go and get it.”
I followed her through to her bedroom and retrieved the hidden card. I was just about to take it downstairs, when she said, “You haven’t written on it, Mummy.”
Oh bum! All the pens were downstairs.
Unless.
“Do you have a pen in here, Florence?”
“There’s one on my desk.” She picked it up and handed it to me.
“Is pink the only colour you have?”
“Yes. Pink’s a nice colour, isn’t it?”
“It’s lovely.” I scribbled a message on the card and hurried back downstairs.
“Happy anniversary, darling.”
Jack eyed me suspiciously. “Did you just magic yourself somewhere to buy this?”
“How could you suggest such a thing? I’ve had it for ages.”
“I like the pink ink.” He grinned. “It looks jus
t like Florence’s pen.”
“Does it? Well, pink is the colour of love, isn’t it?”
“You haven’t forgotten we’re having dinner with our parents tonight, have you?”
“I don’t suppose we could cancel, could we?”
“No, we can’t. They’re all looking forward to it.”
“I’m glad someone is. What are you planning to cook?”
“I’m not.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to do it, do you?”
“Of course not. I’ve ordered in catering.”
“You have? Who?”
“A local company. They have a very good rating online.”
“Hmm, I foresee a tiny problem.”
“What’s that?”
“How are you going to explain to the caterer that four of the guests are ghosts?”
“Oh yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“You’ll have to cancel the booking.”
“It’s okay. We’ll be able to manage it between us.”
“Stuff that for a game of soldiers. I’ll talk to Aunt Lucy, to see if she knows of any caterers in Candlefield who can help.”
“Do you think she will?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t have any other bright ideas.”
“By the way, I’ve arranged for Florence to go to Wendy’s while the six of us have dinner.”
“When did you do that?”
“I had a word with Donna at school yesterday.”
“Is Florence okay with that?”
“Are you kidding? She thinks it’s a great idea.”
After all the time I’d wasted looking for the anniversary card, I was running late. “I should be heading out, Jack.”
“Have you remembered to put your Fitbit on?”
“No, I haven’t. Thanks for reminding me.” I hurried upstairs, retrieved it from the bedside cabinet, and rushed back down again. “I’ve got it.”
“I still can’t believe you took a bet with Winky.”
“I can’t lose this time. I’m on the go all day while that lazy cat just lies around the office doing nothing. I’ll record twice as many steps as him easily.”
“Hmm.”
“What do you mean, hmm?”
“It’s just that Winky has a habit of getting one over on you.”
