The Witch Who Mysteries Box Set

by Katie Penryn

  Without turning round Dubois dismissed us with a Gallic shrug. “C’est la vie. That’s life. I answer to the Prosecutor and not to you.”

  *

  I didn’t say a word in the car on the way home. I was too depressed to think that the police were taking the easy way out and wouldn’t even consider other suspects. Dubois seemed so sure they would get a conviction on the evidence they had. Poor Gwinny didn’t stand a chance unless we could come up with the real murderer on our own.

  As we walked through the front door with Felix in cat mode, Sam called out that Monsieur LaPresse had phoned five minutes earlier and wanted us to call him back.

  “Monsieur LaPresse? Mpenzi Munro here. You have news for us?”

  “Yes, Madame Munro. Come to my shop now, as soon as you can. The ex-girlfriend of Edna Yardley’s boyfriend is here with her girlfriends. Maybe you’d like to speak to her?”

  “Thank you. We’ll be right there.”

  “Come on, Felix,” I said picking him up and tucking him under my arm before he had a chance to jump up onto the piano for a catnap.

  “And you, too, Sam. The girls’ll be more prepared to talk to me if I have a handsome young man in tow.”

  It was annoying that Monsieur LaPresse hadn’t called me on my mobile as his shop was only a street away from the gendarmerie.

  Sam drove. Felix and I left him finding a parking space when we arrived at the shop. I was anxious not to miss the girls. Two of the tables out on the pavement were taken by groups of young women, probably girls who worked in the shops and offices nearby stopping for a snack and a cool drink in the bright summer sunshine. Which one of them was our quarry?

  Felix hovered outside the door washing himself and catching all eyes while I dashed into the shop to buttonhole Monsieur LaPresse. I bought two cold colas while Monsieur LaPresse pointed out Nanette Oriol to me. She was the young woman with the long curly chestnut hair wearing a white halter top, cut-offs and red espadrilles.

  By the time I reached the pavement again Felix had already made contact. He sat on a spare chair purring as the girls petted him. Sam walked across to join him. The women smiled and gave him a come-join-us nod, the Munro male charm breaking down social barriers. Sam pulled up a chair to join the table.

  “Not drinking?” the girls asked.

  Sam pointed to me and I leaned over to place the dewy bottles on the table. One of the girls offered me her chair. She was leaving she said as she started work earlier than the others.

  “We wanted to talk to Nanette Oriol,” I said to the three girls left at the table.

  “You’re in luck,” she said. “My friends will be leaving soon but I have the afternoon off. I work at the nursery school round the corner and there’s no school on Wednesday afternoons.”

  I explained that we had all recently arrived in France. When I told her our name was Munro she said, “You live in the big house at the end of the bay?”

  Sam nodded and took a swig of his soda.

  “The one where the murder happened?” she went on.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Why? Do you know something about it?”

  “Funnily enough, I do. My ex-boyfriend left me for that woman. They’d only been going out two weeks when she was killed.” She laughed in an embarrassed way. “Yes, I know. I’d been counting the days. Robert and I had been a couple since we were at school together. I think her Englishness made her seem exotic to him.”

  “You resented her?”

  Nanette pouted in that French way. “Of course, I did. We were at a disco down the coast and she made a play for Robert, draping herself all over him. Teasing him. He didn’t stand a chance.”

  Sam silenced me with a kick under the table and took over the questioning. “Do you mind if we ask you where you were on Saturday night? We’re trying to account for everyone who knew her.”

  “You’ll have your work cut out for you. She really threw herself about.”

  “Some of that would have been part of her job, I guess,” I said to calm the conversation down a little.

  Sam asked again, “So where were you?”

  “On Saturday night? Let me think…I was at a party. A friend’s engagement party. Some people have all the luck. But maybe I’ll be lucky too some day.”

  Sam drained his cola and put his bottle down on the table. “Can anyone support your claim?”

  Nanette pushed her chair back. “Claim, it’s not a claim. I was answering your questions. You don’t have any right to demand an alibi from me.”

  Oh dear, things weren’t going right, but I needn’t have worried because at that moment a tall and typically handsome young Frenchman arrived and bent down to kiss her on both cheeks. She softened at once and introduced him to us as Robert Ulry.

  Robert Ulry? Edna’s boyfriend. What was going on here?

  Nanette told him we’d been asking about Saturday night.

  “We were at a friend’s party…together. The two of us,” he said.

  “All night?” I asked.

  “Until about four in the morning. Why do you want to know?”

  Nanette nudged him. “They’re checking alibis.”

  “And we are suspects?” he asked with a laugh. “I have to admit in the short time I went out with Edna I was tempted to murder her several times. She was a hard woman to get along with. But as you see I came to my senses and now Nanette and I are back together again. Isn’t that right, chérie?”

  Nanette simpered and sagged against him. “So you see neither of us had any reason to want to kill Edna. We were busy getting our lives back again.”

  I thanked them for answering our questions. We spent a few more minutes making polite conversation and we left.

  “That wasn’t helpful,” said Sam.

  Felix meowed.

  “It was useful,” I said. “We can cross another two suspects off our list. At least we are getting somewhere.”

  Yes, but where? We didn’t seem to be any closer to finding Edna’s killer.

  Chapter 20

  We were a gloomy group round the kitchen table the next morning. So far six suspects had been eliminated from the list of eight — two by the police and four by us. Only two men remained on our list: Edna’s English ex-boyfriend, Harry Llewellyn, and Edna’s business rival.

  Dubois was never going to do anything about them, and so it was up to us to find out if either of them could be the murderer.

  Time was running out for Gwinny.

  We had finished breakfast but no one made a move. We needed a plan of action.

  Martine’s yellow van drew up.

  “I’ll get Martine. We need to see what she has found out for us.”

  I rushed out and caught her as she was about to turn her van round.

  “Do you have time to come in for a coffee? We’d like to know if you have anything to tell us about our suspects.”

  Audrey put the coffeemaker on again. Martine took a seat saying she was glad for a break in the middle of her round.

  She pulled out a voluminous hanky and wiped her brow. “It’s baking hot already and it’s only ten o’clock. If this global warming is going to make the summers hotter each year, I shall have to think about losing some weight. Could I have a glass of water while we wait for the coffee?”

  Jimbo ran the tap to cool the water and filled a tumbler for her.

  She drank it down to the bottom and replaced it on the table. “You want to know about the victim’s ex-boyfriend, Harry Llewellyn?”

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  “No one can say for sure that he never left his house that night. His lights were on downstairs all night but apparently that doesn’t mean anything as he often leaves his lights on when he goes out, or falls asleep in his armchair in front of the PC, so the woman in the house opposite says. She’s a nosy lot — a curtain twitcher. She says she heard his car but couldn’t tell me what time it was.”

  “It was Saturday night. He probably went out to a bar. Did she h
ear him come home?”

  “She says not.”

  Sam sighed. “That’s not conclusive, is it?”

  “No,” I said. “So what can we do?”

  Felix jumped onto Sam’s lap. He batted Sam’s nose with his paw and meowed.

  The coffee maker pinged. Sam pushed Felix down and waved Audrey back to her seat. “The only way to find out if he had an alibi would be to ask him. Even then, we’d have to verify it.”

  While Sam poured the coffee my mobile rang. It was Izzy. How timely.

  “My PA tells me Edna’s fellow estate agent, the one who threw the doorstop at her, is called Quentin Williams. Johnson has some more information on him for you, Penzi. Can you pop up here and speak to him?”

  “Would now be all right?”

  “Sure, come for coffee.”

  I put my phone back in my pocket.

  “Well?” they all asked me.

  I explained that Izzy’s butler had some news about our last suspect, the man who caused a stir at her housewarming party by throwing a doorstop at Edna and breaking a mirror, her alleged business rival.

  I turned to ask Martine about Quentin Williams. Did she know him?

  She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of him. I don’t think he’s on my round. So I can’t help you.”

  “The sooner we find out what Johnson knows the better. So I’ll go there now. I’ll take Felix with me. Izzy likes him. Jimbo and Sam help with the shopping. Audrey?”

  She smiled that sweet smile of hers. “I’ll prepare lunch, don’t worry, Penzi.”

  We left Martine finishing her coffee.

  *

  As soon as we left the house behind Felix morphed into his man form. When we neared the château he shifted back down to Felix the cat. Izzy hadn’t met Felix the man and now wasn’t the time for complicated introductions.

  “I see you’ve brought your cat with you,” was the first thing she said to me. “Odd that. I know people who take their dogs about, but you’re the first person I’ve met who travels everywhere with her cat.”

  “He’s precious. My father sent him to me as a farewell present when he died. Felix is my bodyguard.”

  Felix rubbed himself against my ankles and grated out something between a purr and a growl. As we walked round to the terrace he insinuated himself between my legs at every step, determined not to be overlooked.

  Johnson arrived with the tray of coffee and a delicious gâteau of fresh strawberries and cream.

  I didn’t know which to do first: pursue our investigation or gorge myself silly. Izzy made the choice for me inviting Johnson to join us. He hummed and hawed for a moment saying it wasn’t proper, but finally gave in after insisting he pour the coffee and help us each to a huge slice of sin.

  “So, Johnson, Mrs Tointon tells me you’ve managed to find out about the gatecrasher who threw the doorstop at Ms Yardley.”

  He eased forward in his chair and wiped his napkin across his face. He wasn’t comfortable with the upset in the social hierarchy or the heat. “I have an address for you and I’ve asked around the staff, but no one knows much about him. He hasn’t been in the district long. Our postman didn’t have anything much to add except that he lives alone in a cottage overlooking the sea. He has no neighbors so there’s little gossip about him.

  “Here’s his address,” he said handing me a piece of paper. He wiped his face again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Ms Munro.”

  So was I, but the address was a start. I thanked Johnson who rose from his seat with a sigh and waddled off back to his kingdom below stairs.

  Felix had been sitting on one of the garden chairs with his eyes fixed on Johnson while he spoke. Now he wagged his tail furiously. He wasn’t pleased with the paucity of information. He jumped down off the chair with a meow and began to walk off.

  Izzy laughed. “He’s got a mind of his own that cat. I think he’s telling you to get back to work. What will you do now, Penzi?”

  “We were hoping someone somewhere would provide Quentin Williams with an alibi, but short of asking him and following it up, we’re stuck. We’ll have to come up with a Plan B.”

  “Meow,” said Felix turning round to look back at me.

  I thanked Izzy for her help and made our farewells, hurrying after Felix before he became too exasperated and shifted into a leopard or a man while we still in the château grounds.

  *

  As soon as we were out of the gate and out of sight Felix morphed back into my human bodyguard.

  “There’s only one thing for it,” he said. “We’ll have to skip the alibi stage and go straight for the throat of the crime.”

  “Meaning?”

  “We’ll have to do the police’s work for them and see if either of these men had the means.”

  “The rohypnol?”

  “Exactly. I’ll have to hack into their personal computers and look for the purchase trail, if there is one.”

  “How are we going to do that? They won’t give up their PC’s or laptops to the likes of us, people with no authority.”

  “Penzi, we’re going in for the breaking and entering business — hopefully without the breaking. You, my girl, are going to have to face up to your responsibilities.”

  “I don’t see what more I could do, Felix.”

  “As soon as we get home you and I will lock ourselves in the study and do just that — study — study the Book of Spells. There must be one for opening doors. After all, Open Sesame is something of a cliché.”

  “I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t see myself learning spells that quickly. If it was that easy everyone would be doing it.”

  “Not everyone has your genes remember. And I have faith in you, Mpenzi Munro. You are Sir Archibald’s daughter. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

  With the house coming up Felix morphed down to Felix the cat again for the second time that day.

  My stomach fluttered like before an exam or a race on sports day. Was I really up to it? I had to do my best. We were running out of time and we didn’t have the resources or the authority the police had. I had to redress the balance and using magic would allow me to that.

  While I ran upstairs to my bedroom to fetch Gwinny’s Book of Spells Felix settled himself in the study and shifted up to Felix my bodyguard.

  Before we left London I had visited the Portobello Road market and bought a Chinese wooden box in which to keep Gwinny’s precious Book of Spells to protect its fragile pages on our journey to Beaucoup-sur-mer. The box was of mahogany, carved with ancient mystic symbols and with brass fittings reinforcing its corners. I took the box out of my armoire and tucking it beneath my arm I hurried downstairs.

  On my way to join Felix I popped my head into the kitchen and told everyone I was not to be disturbed — no matter what.

  This was the first time Felix had ever seen the Chinese box or its magic contents. I put it down on the desk and he came to stand beside me as I pushed on the cylindrical lock to open it. As the lid rose a rainbow of light flooded out, piercing the old parchment in which the book was wrapped. I lifted the bundle out and laid it down. I teased the parchment open and uncovered the jewels adorning the worn leather cover: rubies, amber, citrine, emeralds, aquamarine, the darkest of sapphires and amethyst. All the colors of the rainbow. As soon as I touched the book the lights flashed, merging into a brilliant clear white.

  Felix jumped back with a start. “The rainbow lights from the jewels make a prism, Penzi. That’s magical.”

  “That didn’t happen before. It must be because I’m a real witch now.”

  “Let’s see if there’s an index”, Felix said, leaning past me to open the book.

  He couldn’t, of course. The cover wouldn’t budge for him. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the look on his face.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked pulling his hand back as if he’d been bitten.

  “The High Council of the Guild of White Witches may have given me per
mission to have you as a helper in learning the spells, but you are not a witch.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “So, you can’t touch the book, or its cover or its pages.”

  Felix harrumphed and took a step away from the desk. “How are we going to do this then?”

  I gave him a poke in the ribs. Anything to take that sulky look off his face.

  He relaxed again and chuckled. “Sorry. It took me by surprise. That’s all.”

  “I’ll find the index and you can tell me which page we want without touching the book.”

  I lifted the cover and turned the pages slowly.

  “Stop. That’s the Table of Contents.” He ran his finger down the page making sure to keep it an inch above the parchment. “There. Page 98…Spell to open locks – Aperi. Turn the pages and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  “I’m not too bad with numbers,” I said beginning to turn the pages, from the top and sliding my fingers down the edge so as not to cause any damage to the priceless contents.

  I found the right page and looked at Felix.

  “Penzi, that’s Page 89 not 98. Continue.”

  We found the correct page. All down the margins magical creatures in brilliant colors wove in and out: dragons, unicorns, centaurs and many more. A black and gold rectangle outlined the spell itself. I stroked my fingers over the page. I could feel the indentations made by the heavy down strokes of a medieval quill pen.

  A jumble of letters and symbols hid the secret of the spell. How was Felix going to teach me the symbols? The words he could read out to me.

  Felix gripped me by the shoulder and gave me a friendly hug. “You’re all tensed up. Relax. This is do-able. Have faith. Think of the symbols as Egyptian hieroglyphics. I’ll tell you what the picture is and you can imagine it. Okay?”

  I shrugged his hand off me and rolled my shoulders to release the tension. “Here we go then. Don’t forget to cross your fingers when you call the spell out to me.”

  We both crossed our fingers. I wasn’t prepared to uncross mine until we had the spell a hundred per cent correct. I didn’t want some garbled version creating havoc. Better safe than sorry. Felix read out the first line to me. It was complicated. A word here. A symbol there. We repeated it over and over until I had it down pat. It was tiring. The mental energy required to focus on the symbols took me by surprise. Magic wasn’t easy.