by H. Y. Hanna
“Yes, I heard that too. Inspector Walsh arrested them yesterday afternoon. I’d tried to reach him at the station and they wouldn’t let me speak to him. They said he was busy interviewing suspects. I guess that’s what he was doing: questioning the members of the gang.”
“So, it turned out to be quite a busy day for the local CID,” said Professor Thrope with a chuckle. “First this gang and then Lady Pritchard last night. Has she confessed?”
“Yes… and in fact, I think you helped with that, Professor.”
“Me?” he said in surprise.
Caitlyn laughed. “Yes, she was so terrified after her encounter with the Black Shuck, she was practically begging to tell the whole story to anyone who would listen. Perhaps she thought she was being haunted by the demon hound for what she had done and the only way to get rid of the ghost was to confess to everything.”
“Well, I’m glad I was able to help in some way.”
Caitlyn rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you to rest now. Oh, I nearly forgot…” She lifted a small box and placed it on the professor’s lap. “These are from my grandmother.”
Professor Thrope opened the box to find it filled with ivory white bonbons, in various shapes and sizes.
“They’re white chocolate,” Caitlyn explained. “They’re made from a blend of cocoa butter, milk, and sugar, with no theobromine—so they should be safe for you to eat.”
“Thank you, my dear—and please thank the Widow Mags for me,” said the cryptozoologist, beaming. “She’s a very good woman. I think it is a great shame that so many in the village fear and shun her.”
Caitlyn gave him a hopeful smile. “Well, things might be slowly changing. One of the farmers—Jeremy Bottom—is holding an Open Day at his dairy farm today, and he has invited the Widow Mags as the guest of honour.”
She didn’t add that what was even more surprising was that the old witch had accepted. She had thought that—after the horrible scene at the pub—the Widow Mags would refuse to venture out of her chocolate shop again. In fact, Caitlyn could hardly blame her grandmother for not wanting to face all that hostility. But strangely enough, the events of that day seemed to have had the opposite effect. It was almost as if, now that she had faced the worst, the Widow Mags didn’t care anymore.
“Ooh, I’d better get going,” said Caitlyn, glancing at her watch. “I’m supposed to pick up some things from the cottage and meet her there.” She smiled warmly at the professor. “Do come to the chocolate shop and say goodbye before you leave, won’t you?”
He returned her smile. “I certainly will.”
***
Caitlyn found a note from Bertha waiting for her on the kitchen table, together with a basket of freshly baked chocolate fudge brownies and several jars of homemade toffees.
Have taken Mother and Evie, and the other things, to the Open Day first. Can you please bring the fudge and toffees when you come, as we couldn’t carry them? Thank you.
Love, Bertha
P.S. Have left you a pair of wellies by the back door. Ground can be very muddy at the farm.
Caitlyn looked across the kitchen and saw a pair of rubber boots standing by the rear door of the cottage, then glanced down at herself. She had better change out of her pretty summer dress. Upstairs, she found that Nibs had made himself comfortable on her pillow and was curled up fast asleep. The kitten awoke as she came in and opened his mouth in a wide yawn, showing a little pink tongue and tiny white teeth.
“Mew?” he said sleepily.
“Hi Nibs,” Caitlyn said absently, as she stripped off her dress and rummaged in the chest of drawers for a clean T-shirt and her best pair of jeans.
She dressed quickly, then pulled her red hair back in a ponytail. But her fingers slipped and she dropped the elastic band in her haste. Making a sound of annoyance, Caitlyn crouched down next to the bed to retrieve it, then paused as she remembered the hag stone. She hadn’t had a chance to look for it again since yesterday lunchtime, when she had dropped it with Pomona. Now she crawled once more under the bed and squinted in the dark, dusty space. Where is it? She spied a gap between two of the floorboards. The hag stone could have rolled in there. She wouldn’t be able to look into the gap easily from this angle—the best thing was to shift the bed sideways so she could get access.
She crawled out again to find Nibs perched on the edge of the mattress, peering down curiously, trying to see what she was doing under the bed.
“Mew?” said the kitten.
“Brace yourself, Nibs,” said Caitlyn as she grabbed the posts at the foot of the bed and gave a heave. The bedframe moved sideways with a shuddering creak. Nibs gave a mew of surprise at the sudden movement and leapt off the bed. Caitlyn gripped the bedposts again and gave the bed another sideways shove, then knelt down in the empty space revealed. Nibs scampered up next to her and watched as she felt in the gap between the floorboards… Yes! There was the hag stone. It was wedged snugly in the space between the two boards, but with a bit of wriggling, she managed to pull it out.
“Mew!” said Nibs, putting out an inquisitive paw as she held the hag stone up to the light.
“Ah-ah… not for you,” Caitlyn admonished gently.
She rose and placed the hag stone temporarily on the windowsill, then returned the bed to its original position. It seemed to be much harder to shift back and it took her two or three attempts before she was satisfied. She was panting and sweating slightly by the time she was done. Turning back to the window, her eyes widened in horror as she saw that Nibs had jumped up on the windowsill and was batting the hag stone playfully with his paw.
“No! Nibs, no!” she exclaimed, diving across the room.
She grabbed the hag stone just in time, before the kitten’s paw sent it flying out of the window. Giving Nibs a stern look, she clutched the hag stone tightly in her hands and gave a sigh of relief. Then, as she opened her fingers and gazed down at the strange stone with the hole in the centre, she had an idea. Yesterday, she and Pomona had been using the hag stone to try and decipher the meaning of the symbols on the parchment. And something had happened: viewed through the hole in the hag stone, the symbols had seemed to transform, to take on the shape of letters…
She had been keen to try the hag stone on the parchment again, but now that she thought about it, she had a better idea. If the symbols on the parchment were similar to the symbols on her runestone, then that meant that the hag stone could also be used to decipher the meaning of the marks engraved on her runestone!
A thrill of excitement went through her. Hurriedly, she untied the ribbon holding the runestone around her neck, then held it up to the light. With her other hand, she raised the hag stone and held it in front of the runestone, lining it up so that she could look at the symbols through the hole in the centre.
“Mew?” said Nibs, coming closer and peering at the stones in her hands.
“Hush, Nibs…” Caitlyn muttered. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
She tried to remember what she had done the other day. A deep breath, she reminded herself. And then focus your mind on the hole in the stone. Fade out everything else around you. Slowly, her vision narrowed down to the circle through which she could see some of the symbols…
The engraved marks blurred… and then shimmered.
Caitlyn fought the urge to blink, scared that if she did, she might break the focus that enabled her to see the transformation. The shimmering intensified. And then, just like on the parchment the day before, the symbols began to uncurl and reform into different shapes… into letters…
Chameleon charm… Deflect, disarm… Fiends of evil, quartenate guised—
“MEW!”
Caitlyn jumped as a paw suddenly whacked the hag stone in her hands. She gasped and fumbled; the hag stone slipped from her fingers and fell on the windowsill, sliding to the outer edge.
“Mew!” cried Nibs again, rushing to pounce on the hag stone.
“No! Nibs, don’t!” cried Caitlyn.
<
br /> But the kitten ignored her and swatted the hag stone with glee. The circular stone shot over the edge of the windowsill and dropped from sight.
“Noooo!” groaned Caitlyn. She leaned over the windowsill and looked out. The cottage garden was right beneath her and there was no sign of the stone amongst the green foliage and flowers.
“Nibs!” she shouted. “Aaarrghh! Now, look what you’ve done!”
“Mew?” The little kitten looked up at her innocently.
She opened her mouth to berate him, then sighed and shut it again. It wasn’t really the kitten’s fault—he was only acting as kittens do. Like all cats, he was inquisitive, especially if he could see that you had all your attention on something. And she should have known, after his antics at the doctor’s clinic, that he enjoyed batting things off ledges.
She leaned to look out of the window again. The cottage garden below was a mess of overgrown beds filled with herbs, wildflowers, and tangled shrubs. It would take her ages to search for the hag stone.
Caitlyn glanced at her watch. There wasn’t time to search now—she had to get to the Open Day and, by the time she got back, it would probably be too dark. Anyway, it isn’t as if the hag stone is going anywhere, she reminded herself. It was perfectly safe, buried somewhere out there between the herbs and flowers. She could look for it tomorrow.
And besides, I’ve learnt part of the message on my runestone, she thought with a tingle of excitement. Chameleon charm / Deflect, disarm / Fiends of evil, quartenate guised— It didn’t make much sense to her, but that was okay. She smiled. She would figure it out.
With a last look at the garden, she went downstairs to collect the chocolate treats and rubber boots, and be on her way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It seemed like half the county had come to the Open Day at Jeremy Bottom’s pretty little dairy farm. The air was filled with the sound of laughing and screaming children as couples and families walked around enjoying the activities laid on for them. There was a miniature bouncy castle, a “Pin the tail on the cow” on one wall of the barn, a display of milk products and confectionery (including the magnificent chocolate statue of Ferdinand the bull), a shed where you could try your hand at hand-milking a cow, a stall selling bottled fresh milk, and a pen where children could pet the calves and feed the rabbits and chickens. Several little boys were whooping with glee as they climbed all over the farm tractor, parked especially in the centre of the farmyard, whilst others played around bales of hay stacked in the corner.
The cows, of course, were the stars of the show, and they’d all come across the field to stand by the fence, basking in the attention from the visitors. The biggest attraction was Ferdinand himself and Caitlyn smiled as she watched the enormous bull nuzzle his head against a young woman, who laughed in delight. Although he had been accepted into the herd and didn’t spend his days in a lonely field by himself anymore, it looked like the smoochy bull still loved getting cuddles and pats from humans.
“Caitlyn! Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Caitlyn turned to see Pomona approaching, and marvelled at how her cousin managed to make a pair of faded jeans and green rubber boots look glamorous.
Pomona grinned as she came up and said: “You just missed the most awesome scene! Mrs Gibbs arrived, yeah, and freaked out when she saw the Widow Mags… but she didn’t dare say anything directly to her ’cos James was there… so she started walking around the yard, pretending to talk to her friends and speaking really loudly… and making, like, all these mean comments about witches… and she was so busy talking, she didn’t look where she was going, so she stepped right into a cowpat!” Pomona dissolved into giggles. “Man, you should have seen the look on her face! And it went all over her shoes and up her leg and everything… it was priceless!”
Caitlyn couldn’t help smiling as well. She looked around, not seeing the woman. “Where’s she now?”
“Oh, that Vera woman—you know, Jeremy’s sourpuss sister—took her into the farmhouse to get cleaned up. But I can tell you, no matter how much she scrubs, she’s gonna stink for days!” Pomona grinned wickedly and added, “Pretty fitting, really, when you think that so much of what comes out of her mouth is bulls—”
“Do you know where the milking shed is?” asked a frazzled-looking young woman with a baby on one hip and a screaming toddler in the other hand. She gave them an apologetic smile as the toddler let out another piercing wail. “He’s having a bit of a tantrum. I thought I might be able to get him to calm down, if he has a go at milking a cow.”
Pomona turned and pointed. “Yeah, it’s just round the back of the barn…” She gave the woman a pitying look and said, “You know what? I’ll show you.” She turned to the little boy and held out her hand, while giving him her most dazzling smile. “Here… you wanna take my hand?”
He stared up at her, his sobs subsiding into hiccups, then slowly put his chubby little hand into hers. Pomona winked at Caitlyn, mouthed “Be right back”, and walked off with the young mother. The little boy had stopped crying completely now and was gripping her hand and staring up at her in adoration. Caitlyn laughed to herself. It looked like Pomona’s effect on the male population started at an early age!
She turned at the sound of a deep, male voice calling her name and her pulse fluttered as she saw James Fitzroy approaching. He was dressed, like Pomona, in faded jeans and wellington boots, with a crisp white shirt open at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves, to show tanned, muscular forearms. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his grey eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a familiar lopsided smile. Caitlyn’s heart skipped a beat. James hadn’t smiled at her like that for ages, not since that day when…
“I was surprised when the Widow Mags and others arrived without you,” he said, nodding across the yard to where Bertha was standing with the old witch.
“I was a bit late because I went to the hospital first—to see Professor Thrope.”
“Ah.” There was an awkward silence, then James cleared his throat. “I saw him earlier—he seemed to have come through surgery well.”
“Yes, he has.” Caitlyn squirmed at this inane, polite conversation. They both knew they were avoiding the proverbial elephant in the room: the subject of Professor Thrope’s shape-shifting.
James cleared his throat again and fell back on every Englishman’s standby. “Er… lovely weather we’re having today, aren’t we?”
Caitlyn didn’t know whether to laugh or roll her eyes, and something of it must have shown in her expression because James laughed suddenly in a sheepish manner and the tension eased between them.
“I heard at the hospital that they’ve arrested the gang who was attacking women,” said Caitlyn.
“Yes, it’s terrific news, isn’t it? What with Lady Pritchard and the other two in custody as well, the local CID have never had so many arrests within a day in their entire history,” said James with a chuckle. “I think Inspector Walsh doesn’t know if he’s coming or going.”
“What do you mean? Who else has been arrested?”
“Well, Derek Swanes was picked up this morning. He’s been charged with embezzlement and fraud. And Julian Pritchard too. It seems that they’d been conspiring together—or rather, Pritchard had enlisted Swanes to do the dirty work.”
“Oh, so that’s what I’d overheard at the petrol station!” said Caitlyn. “They weren’t discussing a plot to murder Sir Henry, they were talking about the embezzling racket.”
“Yes, Pritchard approached Swanes last year and offered him a cut, if the estate manager helped him siphon off money from his brother’s estate. Unfortunately, Swanes got caught, and to make matters worse, Sir Henry was then murdered, which meant that the police got involved… It’s why Pritchard was so against them investigating his brother’s death. Not because he was trying to cover up a murder, but because he was worried that if they started digging around, they would find out about the embezzling.”
“So he was willing to let his brother’s murderer get away, just so he could keep his own back covered?” said Caitlyn in disgust. Then she remembered something else. “What about the deal with Blackmort?”
“I think, with Pritchard now awaiting trial, he’ll have other things on his mind than negotiating a deal with Blackmort,” said James dryly.
“So that piece of land is safe for now,” said Cailyn, more to herself than to anyone else.
James gave her a quizzical look. “‘For now’? I should imagine that the estate will remain unsettled for quite a while yet, what with both the heirs arrested for serious crimes. I don’t think Blackmort will be getting his hands on that piece of land.”
Caitlyn wasn’t so certain. She felt that somehow, what Thane Blackmort wanted, he would get. She thought uneasily of Pomona and hoped that her cousin wouldn’t be going back to London any time soon. Glancing across the yard, Caitlyn saw the subject of her thoughts coming back around the corner of the barn with the young mother next to her and the toddler still clinging to her hand. She smiled and wondered if her cousin would be able to get rid of her young admirer now.
The sight of the little boy reminded Caitlyn of James’s story about his childhood friend who had created that piece of parchment with the mysterious symbols.
“By the way, James,” she said, “you know you were telling me about that piece of parchment that we found the other day in the Portrait Gallery?”
He looked at her expectantly. “Yes?”
“Well, the young man who drew those symbols—the one who spent time playing with you—can you remember anything else about him? Like… his name?”
