“It was,” Phoebe said.
Ember dipped another maple cream into the chocolate then set it on waxed paper and carefully made two stripes in the top. The shape of the chocolates and the stripes, swirls, and other decorations on the tops were like a secret code that one could use to determine what was inside the chocolate.
“You ask me, it has something to do with the strike.” Mabel clacked away.
Ember stopped mid-dip. “What strike?”
“Didn’t you know? Alfie was the union rep down at the toy factory. They’ve been unhappy for years over the low pay. He’d been negotiating with management for a raise, but negotiations broke down. Next step is to go on strike, and I heard that was going to happen next week.”
Brimstone hunched down on his haunches, fixated on the yarn as it dangled and jumped.
“So I heard.” Phoebe didn’t seem to be on the same page with Mabel, but Ember had to wonder. A strike would be bad for a lot of people. But would it be motive for murder? And with Alfie out of the way, would the strike still happen?
“That sounds like bad news this close to Christmas. Kids wouldn’t get all their toys,” Ember said.
“Yeah, not only that, but we’d be out of work, and out of work means no pay.” Mabel clacked louder. Brimstone inched closer, his eyes glued to the yarn.
Ember was confused, her gaze flicking from Mabel to Phoebe. “Why would that mean you’d be out of work? You don’t work at the toy factory.”
Mabel stopped clacking, and the yarn stilled. Brimstone lost interest. “Didn’t your aunt tell you? We’re part of the union. We don’t have enough people to have a chocolate makers’ union or a stocking knitters’ union, so we joined up with the elves. Even though we make our own wages and don’t get paid by the factory, we have to show solidarity and go on strike with them.”
Suddenly, Ember felt uneasy. “So, with Alfie out of the picture, what happens with the strike?”
Mabel cocked her head to the side. “Good question. I guess it holds things up until we elect another union rep.”
Apparently, Phoebe and Mabel didn’t understand the implications, but Ember did. If Alfie’s death put the strike on hold, then that might be why he’d been killed. At least, that’s the train of thought her cousins, Issy and Gray, would have. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at this detecting thing either. Issy and Gray had always taken the lead, but they weren’t here now. Could Ember solve this one on her own? Energy and interest surged through her. “So, who would lose out if you went on strike?”
Phoebe swirled the spatula on top of the bark with a flourish then put it in the sink and set the tray aside. “Lots of people. I suppose mostly the factory owners, two brothers, but I heard one of them was buying it from the other. And, of course, the workers would lose out. There is some cash set aside to pay wages, but not much. Once that runs out, no one gets paid. Why do you ask, dear?”
“Don’t you see? Whoever would benefit from stopping the strike would have motive to murder Alfie.” Ember nodded at the looks of realization on Mabel and Phoebe’s faces. “That’s where we need to start our investigation.”
Chapter 3
Aunt Phoebe frowned. “That does put a disturbing spin on things, but I’m not sure if it’s cause for us to investigate anything.”
Ember was still getting the vibe that Phoebe knew something more than she was letting on, but her surprise at Ember’s guess at the motive was genuine. Maybe she was reading too much into her aunt’s reactions. The woman was older than snow, and this turn of events had probably shaken her more than Ember realized.
“But why kill him behind our shops?” Mabel asked. "I hope the police don't suspect us of that. I mean, we would benefit if the strike was avoided."
“Pshaw.” Phoebe waved her hand dismissively as if she and Mabel having a motive was the most ridiculous thing. "There are plenty of people who would benefit more than us."
“Who?” Ember sped up production of the maple creams, using a little bit of magic to move the chocolates along faster. Suddenly, she wanted to be done with her candy-making duties so she could spend time on the investigation.
Mabel slipped her knitting needle through a stitch, twirled the strand of yarn around it, and pulled it back through. “Well, as I said, there are the elves who work in the factory.”
“Not so fast.” Brimstone stretched, humping his back up and eyeing the yarn, which was moving again. “Wouldn't those workers benefit from the strike because the outcome could be higher wages?”
Mabel looked at the cat. She wasn't a witch, so as far as Ember knew, all she heard was a string of belligerent meows. “Is your cat trying to say something?”
“No.” Ember gave Brimstone a pointed look. He knew better than to try to communicate with non-magicals around. “He gets cranky when he hasn't had enough sleep.”
“Cranky? Seriously?” Brimstone flicked his tail in her direction. “If that's the way you're going to be, then I won't add my superior deductions to the mix here. You gals are on your own.” And with that, he flounced toward the back of the shop.
Aunt Phoebe cleared her throat. “Actually, I think the elves would want the strike to happen. Otherwise, they might not get an increase in wages.” She glanced in the direction Brimstone had trotted off. If Brimstone had heard her, he was most likely back there, gloating.
“Good point,” Mabel said. “I guess the person who benefits the most is the factory owner. That's Greg Rinch. He and his brother, Tommy, have owned that factory for ages, but he's buying Tommy out.”
“Buying him out? Why?” Ember asked.
“Tommy remarried and isn't that interested in running the factory, so Greg is buying his half.” Phoebe set the bowl and pan she’d used to make bark in the sink and wiped her hands on her vintage cherry-print apron. “I bet a strike would mess things up for him.”
“I bet it would,” Mabel said. “Of course, the other people who might want to avoid it would be you and me. We’d have to strike along with them, but we wouldn’t get any benefit of increased wages.”
Aunt Phoebe pressed her lips together. “No kidding. And since Alfie was killed outside our stores, maybe we better take a proactive interest in this case.”
“How would we do that?” Ember was pleased that Phoebe wanted to investigate. For one thing, that meant that she probably wasn’t the killer, and for another, Ember really did want to see if she could solve this and prove to her cousins that she was as good as they were at catching killers.
“We know he was killed with a sleigh bell. Maybe we could visit the factory. I'm sure the other elves will be upset, and chocolates always make everyone feel better.” Phoebe grabbed some of her best gold foil boxes and started plopping chocolates into the brown paper wrappers. “While we’re there, we might get lucky and see if Greg Rinch has a set of sleigh bells with one missing bell.”
Chapter 4
The toy factory was only a few streets over, so Ember and Phoebe walked. It was actually quite pleasant to walk about in Christmas Village. Even though it always seemed to be snowing, the temperature wasn’t too bad, especially since Ember was bundled in a down jacket, scarf, mittens, and a hat.
Carrying the boxes that Phoebe had put together, they walked past the pond, where skaters in colorful jackets whirled around the pear tree that seemed to bear fruit even in winter. A lone partridge sat underneath and chirped at them as they walked past, carrying the boxes of candy that Phoebe had put together for the elves.
The tambourine jingle of the sleigh bells on a passing horse-drawn sleigh captured Ember’s attention. None of the sleigh bells were missing, but the ones on the harness were much smaller than the one that had killed Alfie.
“You didn’t need to come, dear,” Aunt Phoebe said. As if Ember would have let her elderly aunt walk into danger on her own. Yet, the way Phoebe had insisted was a bit odd. Then again, maybe she was just being protective.
There was no way Phoebe could have kept her out of it now, though. Ember
had a mystery on her hands, and she wanted to solve it. She could see why Issy was always so gung ho on finding the killer back in Silver Hollow. Of course, the fact that one of the Quinns was usually accused of being the killer might have had something to do with that too.
Phoebe slowed as they passed the giant Christmas tree. It must have been twenty feet tall and was decorated with thousands of lights, colorful Christmas balls, garland, and even old-fashioned tinsel. Ember reached out to touch the tinsel, letting it flutter through her fingers. “Hardly anyone uses this anymore.”
“Ugh. Tinsel. That stuff should be outlawed.” Brimstone had slipped into step beside them.
“I think it’s pretty,” Phoebe said.
“Dangerous to cats.” Brimstone made a sour face at the tree. “One of my cousins ate a bunch of it, and it was lights out.”
“Oh.” Ember didn’t like the thought of that. She had two kittens that she’d left back in Silver Hollow under the care of Issy, who owned the pet store in town, and the thought of anything happening to them filled her with dread. “I won’t ever use it on my tree then.”
“Good idea.” Brimstone continued down the street, and they followed him.
They turned the corner to see a long two-story building. Gigantic candy canes crossed over the entrance, and a full-size sleigh sat out front.
“Here’s the factory. We’ll go in the back entrance where the workers are. I have a keycard that will get us in because I belong to the union.” Phoebe glanced at Brimstone. “I don’t think cats are allowed.”
Brimstone rolled his eyes. “Seriously? How will you folks solve this case without me? Back in Silver Hollow, these guys can’t do a thing without my help.”
“We’ll fill you in. It’s best that you stay out here and keep watch in case the killer comes after us.” Aunt Phoebe winked at Ember.
Brimstone looked doubtful. “Really? Okay. Well then, I guess that would work. Hey, if you find any of those feather cat toys or those little balls that roll inside a ring, could you bring me one?”
“Of course, dear.” Aunt Phoebe slid her card into the slot, the door clicked open, and they stepped inside.
The back of the toy factory was a giant room filled with workbenches set up like an assembly line. There were elves at each bench, hammering and assembling. The elves wore colorful outfits in bright greens and reds, with long hats that jingled and pointy, curled shoes like the ones that Alfie had been wearing. It was a miracle they could walk in those things, but they seemed to have no problem. Ember wondered if they had funny-shaped feet. She scanned the room for sleigh bells. She didn’t see any.
One half of the room had a loft area with an office. A stairway on one wall led up to the office, which had a door and a large window that overlooked the work area. On the door was a name plaque that read G. Rinch.
“Phoebe! What brings you here?” A small elf with purple hair and glasses on a beaded chain waddled over. She was as tall as she was wide and eyed the boxes of candy with interest.
“Hi, Gladys.” Aunt Phoebe held out the boxes. “We brought you some cheer. We know you all must be upset, considering what happened to Alfie.”
Gladys grabbed the boxes. “Such a sad thing. We only just found out. It’s put a damper on production, and you know who won’t like that.” She jerked her head in the direction of the big glass window, behind which Ember could now see a fat man with a giant red-and-white-striped candy cane hanging out of his mouth like some kind of festive cigar.
Some of the elves had stopped working and migrated over to the table where Gladys was setting out the candy boxes. She gingerly took the tops off, revealing the candies. The elves did seem a little depressed, shuffling over, half smiles on their faces.
“We’re sure going to miss Alfie,” one of them said.
“No one can put doll houses together like him,” another added.
“And what will happen with our wages now?” someone whispered, casting a worried glance up at the window.
“I don’t know.” One of the taller elves, who had come out of a side office, carefully chose a candy from the box. “I heard Alfie was into something he shouldn’t have been.”
A few of the elves gasped. One choked on his candy. “Alfie? No way.”
The assuring elf, Stan, according to his name tag, shrugged. “Why else would someone kill him? And in such an odd manner. Struck down while eating chocolates.” As if to illustrate, Stan popped a chocolate into his mouth.
“Do you think it had anything to do with the strike?” Gladys mumbled around a mouthful of candies. She’d taken four and stuffed them all in, not that Ember was counting.
“Why would that have anything to do with it?” Stan asked.
Gladys shrugged. “He was the one organizing it. Besides, I hate to think of Alfie doing something suspicious.”
“He’s not the only one doing something suspicious.” An elf bearing the name tag Bernie gave another elf with the name tag Jimmy a pointed look.
Jimmy dropped his candy, his little elf hands curling into fists. “Who you calling suspicious?”
“Now. Now.” Stan pushed in between the two elves. “Bernie has a point. You have been taking long breaks, and where were you at lunch yesterday?”
“That’s no one’s business.” Jimmy shuffled his feet, looking down at them.
“Really?” Gladys said. “I saw you hanging around the petty-cash tin.”
Just then, the door at the top of the stairs flew open, and the short man with the candy cane barged out. He leaned over the railing, his face red. “You elves get back to work. You’re on the clock, and I expect a full day’s work. Union wages. You think you’re getting a raise. Not if you slack off!” His chilly gaze settled on Phoebe and Ember. “And no visitors!”
The elves grabbed at the candies, stuffing them in their pockets before hurrying back to their stations. The candy table was a mess, with wrappers strewn about. One lone sea-salted caramel remained. Stan grabbed it before heading to his office. He turned and nodded at Phoebe. “Thanks for the candy. It’s too bad about Alfie, but maybe he shouldn’t have gotten into whatever he was into. And his death might not be the last... I heard he had an accomplice, and that person better be very, very careful.”
Chapter 5
Brimstone was waiting for them outside the door. He scowled up at them. “Where are the cat toys?”
“Sorry, buddy. We didn’t see any in there.” It was sort of the truth. Ember hadn’t seen any cat toys, but she hadn’t really been looking either. She’d been too busy. Even if she had seen some, she doubted Greg Rinch would have let them just take them. “Did you see anything suspicious out here?”
“Nope. Kind of hard to keep scouting for you people if I don’t have my toys. All work and no play makes Brimstone a dull boy.” He trotted off, and Ember and Phoebe shrugged at each other then followed.
“I guess we’ll need to make a trip to the pet store,” Phoebe said.
“Do you think Alfie really was up to something shady?” They were walking past one of the many snowmen who stood in various parks and street corners around the village. They were supposed to be cute, with their carrot noses, colorful scarves, and lumps of coal for eyes, but Ember thought they were a little creepy, especially the way their coal eyes seemed to follow you. She picked up the pace a tad to get farther away from it.
“Nonsense!” Phoebe pulled her sweater tighter and glanced behind them. “Is someone following us?”
Ember whipped around, and the snowman’s eyes widened in surprise. Was that a shadow ducking behind the building? But then, a group of tourists came out laughing, and she relaxed. “No, just tourists. What’s got you so spooked?”
“What’s got me spooked? Just a murder behind the shop then all this talk of elves with shady practices.” Phoebe shivered.
“Do you think that guy, Stan, really knows something? How would he?” Ember asked.
Phoebe shrugged. “He’s the union treasurer and the toy factory a
ccountant, so I guess he would know about financial stuff.”
“That explains why he had that separate office. Sounds like he might like to be in charge, though. Maybe he’s making things up about Alfie. He could have been jealous. Maybe he even wanted to be the union rep.”
Phoebe laughed. “Hardly. Being union rep is no easy task, and besides, Stan was actually the shop steward, so he was one up on Alfie in the factory. He is one of those go-getters, though. Head of the union charity organization, the village bake sale, the elfin softball, pond hockey, and curling teams, and even manages those little elves that make cookies in the hollow of that big oak tree on the town common.”
“Ambitious.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure he was wrong about Alfie being into something shady.”
Phoebe said it with such conviction that Ember wondered if her great-aunt knew more about Alfie than she was letting on. Stan’s words about Alfie having an accomplice rang in the back of her head. Surely, Aunt Phoebe wouldn’t have been up to something shady, would she?
“Do you think that Alfie was killed because he was organizing the strike?” Ember flashed back to the shop owner and how angry he had been that the elves were taking a break. He seemed like the type who could throw a big sleigh bell hard enough to kill an elf and not even blink twice. “I bet the factory would lose a lot of money in lost toy sales because of the strike.”
“Getting rid of Alfie would solve a lot of problems for Rinch. Alfie was relentless with management, always trying to get more for the workers.”
As they turned down Candy Cane Lane, Ember heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow behind them. She turned, but no one was there. Or was someone there? A shadow lurked in the doorway of the garland shop. A window shopper? It must have been because, as she watched, the shop door opened and someone stepped in.
“I don’t think we learned very much on our visit to the factory other than Greg Rinch had motive,” Phoebe said as she unlocked the door to her candy shop. “Is there any way we can find out more about where Rinch was this morning? I know you’re used to investigating murder in Silver Hollow. Any ideas?”
Cadaver on Candy Cane Lane (Christmas Village Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 2
