Mauve (A Very British Witch Book 3)

by Isobella Crowley

  Despite not being a wine lover, Ronnie was a regular visitor, not just for the wine, but because he had business to attend to with Karl, the owner.

  Resting on the unmanned till, Ronnie leaned over and coughed.

  “Be right with you,” a voice called from round the back.

  Ronnie waited patiently while Karl’s footsteps grew louder, until he emerged through the doorway, grinning. “What can I—oh, Ronnie.” His face fell flat.

  Ronnie thought about making some kind of joke to get his revenge but decided against the idea. From Karl’s demeanor, he could guess that nothing about his person caused Karl to be suspicious in any way. Ronnie mulled this over and realized that if Karl didn’t suspect anything, then he must look perfectly normal to everyone. He obviously hadn’t heard the news or, if he had, didn’t have the slightest inkling that Ronnie was involved.

  He’d slept like a log for a bit after Amanda had left for work. Taken another shower when he awoke, then put on his work attire. He’d checked his face and hands for anything conspicuous at least three times. His feet still felt like razor blades, and this blasted fever from his infection was still making a nuisance of itself, but other than that everything was perfectly normal.

  “How are you Ronnie? Still not feeling too clever?”

  “I’m much better now, thank you, but I had a close shave last night, I tell you.”

  “Really? Do tell?”

  Ronnie recounted the previous night’s events. He didn’t intend to make things sound worse than they were; it’s just that the dogs formed his most vivid memories. And now, in the cold light of day, his brush with death felt much closer.

  “I barely escaped in one piece, Karl.”

  “Sounds like quite an ordeal.”

  “It was. I—” Ronnie leaned in.

  Karl reciprocated until their heads were close to touching across the counter.

  Ronnie lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t want to go through that again for the next two nights, I can tell you.”

  Standing back, Karl took a deep breath and paused for thought. When he opened his mouth to talk, the concern that was written all over his face made itself audible. “Well, not to worry.”

  “Not to worry? Is that all you have to say?”

  “Not to worry, because we’ll get you chained up.”

  “Chained up? Where?”

  “You could go in Tarquin’s back room. He won’t mind. I’ll have a word with him.”

  Ronnie wasn’t sure what to make of this latest development but before he could respond, the door swung open and they jolted around together like Siamese twins.

  “And what are you two gossiping about?” Scarlett grinned as she removed her coat and placed it on a hanger.

  Karl smiled back at her. “Oh, err, nothing. We were just catching up. We haven’t seen each other for a while.”

  Scarlett recalled seeing Ronnie in the shop only a few days ago but decided to play along. A ray of sun shone right in, making her squint and turn her head so that she was looking at Ronnie full on.

  “Ronnie! What on Earth’s happened to you? Wow, you look dreadful.”

  Ronnie laughed. “Why thank you Scarlett. Shall I take that as a sordid compliment?”

  “Ronnie, I’m serious. You’d better get home to bed right now or I’m calling Amanda.”

  Karl nodded. “Yeah, she’s right Ronnie, you’re not looking too chipper come to think of it.”

  “Well I’ve definitely seen better days, but had no idea I was such an eyesore.”

  Scarlett’s ears pricked and she looked at Karl, puzzled.

  “Is something wrong, Scarlett?” Karl asked with an air of authority.

  Scarlett shrugged. “Oh, no, nothing. I’ll err, make a start with the stock taking, should I?”

  Ronnie said goodbye to them both and left the shop, trying to picture how it would be next time he met Karl.

  CHAPTER THREE

  RAF Bicester, Launton

  It took Tim a full ten minutes to arrive at the scene, during which time he’d managed to conjure up a line of questioning that was going to get to the bottom of things.

  Just as he’d suspected, the scene swarmed with military. His first job was ascertaining if everyone knew what was expected of them.

  “Good morning,” Tim called, stepping out from his car.

  A group of five soldiers stopped what they were doing. “Oh, good morning, sir,” each of them said as they raised their hands to salute.

  “As you were.” He paused to glance up at the gray sky, soaking his face with a fine drizzle for his trouble. “No, on second thought, let’s have a team meeting. Come on, gather around.”

  Addressing the huddle of soldiers that surrounded him, Tim began to execute the plan he’d devised on the way there. “Now, I trust you all know that this is top secret material.”

  They all nodded and said, “Yes, sir,” in turn.

  “Right, so what have we come up with thus far?”

  A tall soldier with a freshly shaved head stepped forward. “Not much I’m afraid, sir. Nothing new anyway.”

  “I see. And what about last night? Did any of you witness what happened first-hand?”

  The men Tim was addressing were the first men on the scene the night before, they were the first to find the eviscerated cow, and they were the first to take pursuit of the beast responsible.

  “So, no one saw what actually happened?”

  The elected spokesman of the group stepped forward. “No, sir, ‘fraid not. We were called to the scene too late for that.”

  “And what about the dogs? Did they get a good scent?”

  “Yes, sir. I think—” He glanced round and lowered his voice. “I think, sir, that the dogs will be our best witnesses. They’ll be able to identify him no problem, sir.”

  “Our priority then is to get a bunch of suspects together for an identity parade, then let the dogs pick him—or her—out. Can we trust them absolutely to find the right man?”

  “Oh, yes. They’re all highly trained scent-recognizing canines. They wouldn’t have caused him—it—any harm, just brought him down, but it wasn’t to know that was it, sir?”

  “No, I suppose not. Great, that’s sorted then, we’ll try and form an identity parade and let the dogs do the business. In the meantime, I’d still like to find out what each of you saw, exactly. So, I want to interview each of you separately, starting with you.” He gestured at the spokesman to follow him. “What’s your name?”

  “Baines, sir. Lance Corporal Baines.”

  “Well then, Baines, follow me, come on, hop to it.”

  Baines saluted. “Oh, yes, sir, coming sir.”

  “No time for all that now. Come on, in my car.”

  Tim sat on the driver’s seat, shut the door, then reached across to open the passenger door. Waiting for Baines to settle, he glanced at him, returned his focus to the windshield and told him to describe in detail everything he’d seen the previous night, specifically the events that had played out in the field in front of them.

  “Well, sir, by the time we got to the scene, the cow had already been eviscerated. Bits of bone were scattered everywhere. We even found remnants a good quarter of a mile from the carcass.”

  Tim looked at Baines through his periphery. “What about blood? Was there much?”

  “Well, we couldn’t see sir, it was dark, but the dogs…”

  “They found some did they?”

  “They did, sir. Went insane. Sniffing and whining in all directions.”

  “So, blood was scattered far and wide, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, sir. It would seem so.”

  “Um. So, we can definitely rule out a vampire attack?”

  Baines chuckled. “Very funny, sir.”

  “Thank you, Baines, you’ve been a great help. Send in the next in line, will you?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  The next to climb in and sit beside him was a large, rotund
fellow with red cheeks and short, cropped blond hair. The odor of underarm sweat filled the front of car, prompting Tim to crack the window as far as he dared. “I need something to call you, what’s your name?”

  “Billings, sir.”

  “Well then, Billings, can you recount the events of last night? Give me as many details as you can.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll try. But I haven’t been home all night, so my mind’s still a bit blurry, sir.”

  “Not to worry, just do your best.”

  “Well—”

  “Oh, one minute, Billings.” Tim wound the window back up to the very top. “Can’t be too careful, can we?”

  “No, sir. The cow had already been eviscerated by the time we arrived on the scene. There were bits of gnawed bones everywhere, scattered far and wide across the field.”

  “Yes, yes. Baines has already told me that. Did you get a good look at the bones?”

  “I did my best, sir, but it was dark. I picked a few up and my ran fingers down, just to get a feel for it.”

  “And what did you conclude?”

  “Well sir, the bone felt a bit like an old baseball bat. Absolutely no meat left at all.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well, I did feel one or two... indentations. As if someone had banged a chisel into it, sir.”

  “Hmmm. Are you certain it was an indentation? It wasn’t a gnaw?”

  “Definitely not a gnaw, sir.”

  “Would you say it might be a tooth mark, perhaps?”

  “Could be sir, in fact—yes, it felt just like that, sir. Like some kind of sabre-toothed tiger had bitten right into it.”

  “So, we can rule out a domestic animal then? Not even a big dog like a pit bull could have done this, would you say?”

  “Definitely not, sir. Like I said, it would have to be an animal with huge canines.”

  “But you pursued a man?”

  “A man was leaving the scene, but no one saw him eviscerate the cow. Not as far as I know anyway.”

  “Well, thank you, Billings, you’ve been most helpful. Send in the next in line, will you?”

  “No problem, sir.” Billings left the car.

  “Oh, leave the door open. It’s gotten a bit stuffy in here.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Waiting for Billings to trample a meter-long path in the grass, Tim wafted the air in front of his nose and leaned across to take a gulp of the fresh air outside.

  The next to occupy the hotseat was a Scottish chap called MacIntyre.

  Still focusing on the field through the windshield, Tim looked at MacIntyre from the corner of his eye. “Your friends have given me some rather interesting information. Now I’m looking for some specific details, if you can’t answer them, just say no, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “OK. Did you, at any time, get a good look at the beast?”

  “Well…”

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  Tim looked MacIntyre in the eye. “You did? Why didn’t you say something before, man?”

  “No one asked me, sir. Everyone was saying they couldn’t see a damn thing, so I guess I didn’t want to appear foolish.”

  “Well that’s not entirely the right attitude, but never mind that now. Can you give me a description?”

  “Well, not a description as such. Not a very accurate one anyway.”

  Tim glanced at his watch. “Well get on with it, don’t keep me on tenterhooks.”

  “Well, when we were called to the scene, I was out in front, searching through the grass with a stick. About a minute after we arrived on the scene, I saw something, what appeared to be a man, sir. It had its teeth in the cow’s neck, which was still struggling. Then once the cow was still, it looked up and … howled.”

  “Howled?”

  “Well, I think so. It was a long way off. I could only see its silhouette. It was a full moon, you see. Didn’t say anything, because I thought they’d laugh. Well, it’s a bit of a cliché isn’t it? A man howling like a dog under a full moon. They’d have had me carted off to the funny farm before I could blink.”

  “Well, I see your point. But you still should have said something before, MacIntyre.”

  “Won’t happen again, sir.”

  “Well, if you’ve nothing more to add, thank you for this revelation. Call the next man in, will you?”

  The next three couldn’t add much else and Tim found himself drifting away, thinking about what MacIntyre had said. By the time the last man entered, he was dying for a coffee.

  “Ok, I’m dying for a coffee, so let’s make this brief. What’s your name? I need something to call you.”

  “Key, sir.”

  “OK, well then, Key, can you tell me what you saw? I have lots of details now, so I specifically want to know the direction in which you chased it and where it went afterwards.” He handed Key a pen and tore of a piece of ruled paper from his notepad. “Here, draw me a map if you can.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Tim spent the next five minutes staring through the windshield, trying to piece everything together. The sound of a biro scrawling across paper was of an entirely different world.

  “Here you are, sir.” Key handed Tim the map.

  “Oh, thank you, Key. This will be most useful.” He ran his eye over the map and nodded. “Nothing else, Key. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a date with a mug of hot, steaming coffee.”

  +++

  Costa Coffee, Market Square, Bicester

  By the time lunchtime came around, Scarlett couldn’t wait to leave the shop and go for a walk around town. Bicester wasn’t a particularly big or busy town. The streets were never crowded like London or Manchester and there were plenty of trees. It was a nice enough place but, to Scarlett, it was just a bit insular.

  Leaving the vicinity of the wine shop, she took a right and at the end of the road turned right again onto Sheep Street. Costa was only a few doors along.

  Stepping inside, she scanned the tables, which stretched to the back of the shop, but Amanda was nowhere to be found. With little choice then, she joined the back of the queue.

  When the barista finally made eye contact and smiled in her direction, she ordered two lattes and took them to a round table that was at the front of the back section of the shop. To her right, were ten or so crowded tables, and beyond them the shop window. Turning to her left, she saw a row of twenty or more, all unoccupied, save for a man in the corner who was clunking away on his laptop.

  The hot white mug had only just caressed her lips when a draft blew in and Amanda appeared, looking flustered.

  Scarlett waved and moved her spoon around the mug as she waited.

  “Hiya,” Amanda said, pulling out the chair opposite and sitting on the cold, hard wood.

  Scarlett’s mug clinked as she placed it back on the saucer. “Hi, you okay?”

  “Oh, you know, busy. Good to get some air, it gets really hot in there.”

  “I bet it does, all those ovens and everything. Well, it’s over with now. You can go home and relax for the day.”

  “Yes, I can.” Amanda took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes. “Mmm, delicious. I needed that.”

  “It’s not just work, is it? I’ve known you for long enough now to tell when something’s bothering you.”

  “Well actually, it’s Ronnie.”

  Scarlett grinned. “I thought as much. What has he done now?”

  “I’d rather not think about it right now. Probably something and nothing anyway.” She looked over her shoulder at the counter. “I’m actually a bit hungry. You?”

  “Famished.”

  “Those paninis look good, don’t they?”

  “They do, I thought that earlier while I was waiting.”

  Amanda got to her feet. “Ham and cheese?”

  “No onions.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Scarlett tried to drain her coffee mug, letting the frothed milk creep
along the inside of the cup and into her mouth. After a minute or so of craning her neck back, she placed the mug back on the saucer and glanced down at the froth, which she’d paid for and not been able to enjoy.

  An elderly woman and her grandson walked past and sat halfway down the row of tables, slap bang in the middle between Scarlett and the man with the laptop. In no time at all, a younger woman—probably the boy’s mother—joined them, and from that moment on, the atmosphere changed entirely.

  “Hello, Earth to Scarlett!”

  Startled, Scarlett turned to her friend and grinned. “Sorry, I was miles away. Oh, those look delicious. Here, gimme!” She reached to take her panini and tucked right in.

  Save for the odd mmm, they both chewed in silence for a few minutes, before Scarlett put her panini down and blurted out, “I was thinking earlier about when I went backpacking.” She sighed. “It would be good to do it again before I get too old.”

  “Well, first of all, you’re still in your twenties. If you’re old, then I fear for our future.”

  They both laughed.

  Scarlett’s expression turned wistful. “But seriously… I think I need a break. I just feel that the girl I was at university has gone.”

  “We were younger then Scarlett, and we've both done a lot of growing up since.”

  “Yeah, but still. You know, I lie awake at night, wondering what to do with my life. Worrying that I will just get old with zero purpose and end up old and alone.”

  “Oh Scarlett, come now, you old and alone? Never.” Amanda laughed at the ridiculous thought.

  Scarlett sighed with exasperation. “I’m being serious now!”

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, you know, I thought we were settled around here. You have friends, a job, your aunt Tabitha—and Tim.”

  “Oh, I know.” Scarlett took another bite of her panini, getting on with it.

  “How are things between you and Tim?”

  “Well…”

  “Thought things were going great?”

  “They are, but he’s married to his job.” She lowered her voice and leaned right in. “And he might be a sex maniac.”

  Amanda rocked her head back, started to laugh, caught a crumb in her throat and spent the next five minutes coughing and spluttering so loudly that a waitress brought her a glass of water.