Bonbons and Broomsticks (BEWITCHED BY CHOCOLATE Mysteries ~ Book 5)

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Bonbons and Broomsticks (BEWITCHED BY CHOCOLATE Mysteries ~ Book 5) Page 21

by H. Y. Hanna


  “I… I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she stammered.

  “That old man in the weird black suit who was with you! I saw him—don’t try to pretend—when you were leaving my house. You didn’t realise I followed you, did you? I was upstairs—at the window right above where you and your friend were hiding by the hedge, actually—and I heard everything you said. Besides, when I saw that you had the chocolate mould, I knew you would figure things out sooner or later—”

  “But I still don’t understand,” Caitlyn interrupted. “Why did you kill the tramp? What did he have to do with anything?”

  Lady Pritchard smiled. “Darling… as we say in the business, never do anything without a rehearsal first. I needed to make sure that my dosage was right, that the poison I injected into the chocolates would kill within the hour, and I needed a guinea pig. How convenient that I should find a tramp sleeping in the garden shed by the orchard! I’d been growing some foxgloves especially for my purposes, you see, behind that shed, and I knew nobody normally went out there except me. So I made up a trial batch of bonbons, took them out to the tramp that night, and sent him on his way with the chocolates as a consolation gift.” She laughed. “You should have seen how grateful he was, the poor sod! Couldn’t believe his luck: homemade luxury chocolates! And the next morning, I heard the news.” She clapped her hands with glee. “Success! So I got ready for the real performance.”

  Caitlyn looked at the woman with disgust and horror. “This wasn’t some silly part you were playing in a theatre—this was a real man you murdered!”

  “Ah, but you’re wrong. This was the greatest part, the most thrilling role, I have ever played in my whole life! I never thought all those years of acting in crummy second-rate plays and budget movies would pay off like this. But I was good, wasn’t I?” Her eyes gleamed. “I fooled everyone—even you, for a while! Everybody swallowed the poor, grieving widow act. And it was as if the Fates themselves had stepped in to smooth my way. I mean, I had been planning and waiting for the right moment… and then the stories about the Black Shuck began circulating around the village. It was perfect! I know Tillyhenge—I knew those superstitious old busybodies would jump to blame any unusual death on evil monsters and black magic. And that would just muddle the murder investigation even more. So all I had to do was watch and listen and stir the pot every so often: drop a few hints about possible suspects here and there, mention the legendary ghost hound and how scared I was…” She laughed again. “Did you know that fear is the most infectious emotion of all?”

  “But Sir Henry… why did you kill him?”

  Lady Pritchard pulled a face. “Bloody hell, do you really need to ask? You saw him at that dinner. Can you imagine being married to that male-chauvinist boor? Oh, I know what you’re going to say—that I only married him for the money anyway, so I should have known what I was getting into. Well, that might be true, but there’s only so much a woman can stand! How would you like your husband to smack your bum in public and treat you like livestock? After ten years of it, I had to get out.”

  “But you could have just divorced him—you didn’t need to murder him!”

  “What, and break my prenup? No way! It was bad enough that the bulk of the estate was going to that smug git brother of his, but as Henry’s wife, I was entitled to a quarter of the money. Well, that’s more than enough to keep me comfortable… at least until the next gullible rich fool comes along!” She chuckled. Then she sobered and scowled. “But if I left Henry, I’d be entitled to nothing. Those were the terms of the prenup contract. So I had to find some other way. I wasn’t going to sit around, getting older and losing my looks, waiting for that stupid old sod to die… even if there were—ahem—‘other diversions’ in the meantime.” She gave a coy smile.

  “Dr Nichols,” said Caitlyn, thinking that Pomona had been right. “You’re having an affair with him, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call it an affair…” Lady Pritchard purred. “That has such romantic connotations. It suggests tragic passion… obsession… star-crossed lovers! This was more of a… a spot of entertainment, shall we say? A woman in my position has certain needs… Ben is very young… and very handsome…” She laughed throatily. Then suddenly, she was by Caitlyn’s side. “Now, it’s been very nice chatting to you, but it’s getting late…”

  Caitlyn gasped and went rigid as hard fingers suddenly clamped around her neck. She realised with horror that while she had been distracted by Lady Pritchard’s explanations, the woman herself had sidled up close and taken her by surprise. Now, her head was yanked back by a cruel grip while Lady Pritchard raised her other hand and thrust something towards her face.

  Caitlyn gave a strangled cry as the moonlight caught the silvery glint of a syringe, the deadly needle aimed at her throat.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “I wouldn’t move if I were you,” said Lady Pritchard softly next to her ear. “See this syringe? It contains a concentrated solution of digitalis extract… yes, I can see you know what that means. A few drops would be enough to stop your heart, especially if it was injected straight into a vein.” She laughed softly. “It’s quite handy shagging a doctor, you know… you can learn all sorts of useful things—like where the jugular vein is and how to use a syringe effectively—and all he thinks is that you’re a wide-eyed little woman admiring his manly medical knowledge.”

  “The police… they’re going to be here any moment—”

  Lady Pritchard laughed. “You don’t think I’m going to fall for that old cliché, do you?”

  “It’s true! My friend—the old man—he’s gone to the Manor to tell James about you and call the police—”

  “Do you think I’m stupid? It’s at least a twenty-minute walk to the Manor from here—and that’s if you’re young and fit. That doddery old fool looked like he could barely stand up. He would be lucky to get there in an hour. By the time they listen to his story—assuming they believe him—and call the police… and the police arrive… hah!”

  She jabbed the needle closer and Caitlyn flinched. But at the same time, she felt a flicker of hope. It was obvious that Lady Pritchard didn’t know Viktor’s true identity. If the woman had been spying on them from behind a bush and Viktor had been in the shadows, she wouldn’t have seen the old vampire shift into his bat form. So she had no idea that he would be flying, not walking to Huntingdon Manor. And however wobbly and decrepit Viktor might have looked as a human, he was swift and agile in his bat form. (Well, okay, maybe agile was going a bit far. But he was certainly fast enough once he was alight in the air.) Caitlyn swallowed. If she could just keep the woman talking and that deadly needle away from her throat, she might still get out of this unscathed.

  “I don’t believe you’re really going to kill me,” she said boldly. “Otherwise, why wouldn’t you have done it by now?”

  “Ah, that’s because I want you to tell me who else—apart from that old geezer—you’ve been telling your little theories to. I need to know who else I might have to deal with. James Fitzroy and the inspector are fixated on Swanes and Julian as suspects, so they should be no problem… But what about that journalist friend of his… Nathan? Have you told him your suspicions about me?” demanded Lady Pritchard.

  “No… but he’s not stupid. And neither is James. No matter how much you try to set up Swanes and Julian Pritchard as scapegoats, it won’t stop them realising it’s you once they join up the dots like I did. All the clues are there. Your biggest mistake was making some chocolates for your lover using the same mould as for the poisoned chocolates.”

  She scowled. “No one knows I was the one who gave Ben those chocolates.”

  “But they can work it out from your note. Just like I did,” said Caitlyn. She knew she shouldn’t antagonise the woman, but Lady Pritchard’s conceited overconfidence pricked her temper and she couldn’t stop herself adding, “Were you trying to be clever with that card? That’s your problem, you know—you take stupid risks b
ecause you think you’re so much smarter than everyone else and nobody will get your little jokes.”

  Lady Pritchard made a hissing sound and her fingers clenched on the syringe. Caitlyn jerked her head backwards as the needle jabbed towards her. Suddenly she regretted provoking the woman. She felt the fingers tighten around her neck and she froze, bracing herself for the sting of the needle…

  A loud rustling next to them made Lady Pritchard stop and look up sharply.

  There was silence, except for the murmur of the breeze through the trees and the distant call of an owl. But it was a heavy, loaded silence… as if something was there in the shadows, watching and waiting…

  “Wh…who’s there?” Lady Pritchard shouted, staring around with wide eyes, all her previous arrogance gone.

  She was answered by a low growl.

  Caitlyn felt the hairs stand up on her neck, and Lady Pritchard trembled next to her. A minute later, the bushes parted and a huge, shaggy black dog stepped soundlessly out. Caitlyn felt a sense of relief and delighted recognition, but also a thrill of fear because she had never seen the Black Shuck look so ferocious. This was not the playful phantom hound that she had met the last few times by herself—this was something out of horror stories and nightmares. A monstrous beast with teeth bared and fangs gleaming, and eyes that glowed a sinister red. It crouched, then launched itself at them.

  Lady Pritchard screamed and thrust Caitlyn in front of her. But the demon hound ignored Caitlyn, darting around her and lunging at the other woman. It threw its massive paws on her chest and knocked her down. She thrashed and screamed, and Caitlyn cried out too… and she heard—almost like echoes—distant voices shouting as well.

  Everything became a noisy confusion of wild movement, terrified cries, and blurred images… waving torchlight… figures running towards them… an eruption of snarling, barking, growling… the Black Shuck pinning his victim to the ground…

  “No, don’t hurt her!” Caitlyn cried instinctively.

  Then she saw that the huge dog was not biting Lady Pritchard. It was just holding her in place and snarling in her face—although that seemed to be enough to terrify her, and she was screaming and carrying on as if she was being eaten alive.

  Then a tall figure rushed up… Caitlyn heard her name, felt herself being thrust behind a hard, male body… then she saw the gleam of a rifle barrel in the moonlight…

  “NO!” she shouted, throwing herself at James as he aimed at the Black Shuck and fired.

  She smacked into his arm just as he pulled the trigger and the gun jerked wildly. There was a whine of pain and her heart lurched. She saw a shaggy black shape limp off into the shadows and disappear between the trees. James raised the rifle again.

  “No, no—don’t shoot!” she cried, grabbing his arm.

  “Caitlyn, are you mad?” James stared at her, angry and confused. “That creature was mauling Lady Pritchard—”

  “No, it wasn’t—it was just scaring her!”

  “What do you mean—” He broke off and made an impatient sound. “I need to find it before it hurts someone else. Wild animals that have been wounded can become even more dangerous.” He plunged into the woods after the phantom hound.

  Caitlyn started to follow but her arm was caught by Nathan Lewis, who had arrived with James.

  “Caitlyn—”

  “Let me go!” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and plunged after James. Thankfully, he seemed to be on a track of some kind, otherwise she would never have been able to find him in the forest. She put on a burst of speed to catch up with him.

  “James!”

  He swung around in surprise. “Caitlyn! What are you doing? Go back! I don’t want you getting hurt—”

  “James… listen to me… please!” she gasped, struggling to keep pace with his long legs. “The Black Shuck—you mustn’t hurt it! It isn’t what you think—it isn’t what anyone thinks!”

  They’d come out into a wide space in the centre of the forest, where the canopy thinned, letting light in, and a narrow stream cut across the path. An old stone bridge had been erected across the stream and, in the pale moonlight, Caitlyn saw the bloody tracks leave the path; they led down to the water’s edge and out of sight beneath the bridge. She darted in front of James and blocked his way as he started to follow.

  “James, listen… listen… the Black Shuck is good. It’s a guardian… it protects night travellers; it doesn’t harm them.”

  He sighed. “Caitlyn, I understand there are different versions of the legends and you’d like to believe the nice ones, but—”

  “No, it’s not just a legend! It’s the truth! I know because I… I’ve met it.”

  “You’ve… ‘met’ it?” James was looking at her like she had lost her mind, and she couldn’t really blame him.

  “Yes, have you heard of shape-shifters? Well, the Black Shuck… it’s the canine form of a man.” Caitlyn took a deep breath. “It’s… it’s Professor Thrope.”

  “What? That’s… that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” James looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed.

  “It’s true! I confronted him about it and he admitted it. But even if he hadn’t, I knew already, because… because the signs were all there—”

  “What signs? This is nonsense,” said James irritably. Then a familiar look of disappointment crossed his face. “This is like that witch thing, isn’t it? You’re just making things up, pretending a magic identity where there is none! Why can’t you just accept that you’re living a fantasy—”

  “I’m not making it up!” Caitlyn shouted, losing her temper. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe—just maybe—magic could exist? Why won’t you even consider it?” She glared at him, her eyes blazing. She couldn’t remember ever feeling such furious frustration and all her usual shyness around James evaporated. “Why can’t you open your mind for once, and stop being so smug in your scientific superiority?”

  James was looking at her like he’d never seen her before, but Caitlyn was beyond caring. She took a step closer to him and said fiercely: “If you shoot that dog tonight, you’ll be murdering a man! Because however much you don’t want to believe it and however much it doesn’t fit into your neat little scientific world, that creature is Professor Thrope.”

  She turned and stalked towards the water’s edge. There was a small hollow underneath the bridge and she crouched down, peering into the shadows. The moonlight, which lit up the clearing, didn’t penetrate much under the bridge, but she could just see a dark form lying against the earth, the shaggy fur rising and falling rapidly as the creature panted. Then, as she watched transfixed, the huge beast seemed to shimmer and start to shrink: the snout shortening, the pointed ears disappearing, the black paws extending into human fingers, the shaggy black fur smoothing and flattening out…

  There was an involuntary cry behind her and Caitlyn glanced over her shoulder to see James standing there. His grey eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly open, as he watched the transformation.

  Caitlyn turned back. The Black Shuck was gone. All that was left was an old man with enormous sideburns, lying on his side, his hair dishevelled and his clothes ragged, and one arm bleeding from a gunshot wound.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Yes, he’s awake now. You can go and see him if you like.”

  Caitlyn followed the nurse to the rear of the ward, where she was shown into a private room with the name “Professor Kynan Thrope” on the label next to the door. Lying in bed, his arm bandaged and held in a sling, was the cryptozoologist. His face lit up as he saw her and he attempted to sit up.

  “No, don’t get up,” said Caitlyn. She settled herself in the chair by the bed and smiled at the professor. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been shot,” he said with a hoarse laugh. “No, but seriously, I don’t feel too bad. Arm’s very sore, of course, and I’m a bit groggy from the anaesthetic… but all things considered, I just feel lucky to be
alive.” He gave her a grateful look. “And I believe I have you to thank for that, my dear,”

  Caitlyn looked down in embarrassment. “It was nothing, really. I mean, I’m sure James wouldn’t have shot you if he had known who you really were…”

  Professor Thrope raised his eyebrows. “So does Lord Fitzroy know…? He came to see me as soon as I got out of surgery, but he didn’t say much, other than to apologise again. Of course, I assured him that accidents happen and I didn’t blame him at all. In fact, he has been more than generous—” he waved a hand around the room, “—arranging for me to have a private room and insisting on covering all hospital expenses.”

  “Yes, James does know,” said Caitlyn quietly. “He saw your transformation.”

  “And… his friend, Nathan?” asked Professor Thrope, his face alarmed.

  “No, Nathan didn’t see. He arrived a moment after you’d shifted back, and neither James nor I mentioned it. We just said that you must have been chasing the Black Shuck too and been shot by mistake in the dark. He seemed to accept that explanation.”

  The cryptozoologist relaxed a bit. “So Lord Fitzroy is the only one who knows, except you?”

  “Yes, and you don’t have to worry… I think he will keep your secret. I… we haven’t spoken about it, but I know James…” Caitlyn blushed at the intimacy implied in those words, and added hastily, “Actually, my grandmother knows too. In fact, she knew about you before I even suspected.”

  Professor Thrope smiled. “She is a very wise woman, the Widow Mags. I hope to see her again before I leave.”

  “Will you be going soon?”

  “As soon as the doctors say I can travel. Lord Fitzroy is very kind but…” He gave a wry smile. “I feel that I have outstayed my welcome. In any case, I think my work here is done. I heard one of the nurses talking earlier—apparently the police have arrested that gang of men who had been attacking women in the countryside?”

 

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