The Witch Who Mysteries Box Set

by Katie Penryn

  Emotionally drained as I was I still dropped off and woke to a start when Felix knocked on my door to say it was nearly time to meet Madame Desert at The Union Jack.

  Her inspection of the shop proved to be something of an anti-climax after Dubois’s dramatic announcement earlier on that day. Audrey’s work on cleaning up the shop impressed Madame Desert so much, she said she would give Audrey three months rent free instead of the one month she’d originally promised.

  The four of us found a table out on the Esplanade for the signing of the lease which Madame Desert had thought to bring with her. She had to scratch out one month free of rent and write in three months but we were fine with that. She wanted one month up front as a damage deposit and one month in advance, and so I gave her a check for two months’ rent and she gave Audrey a copy of the lease and a receipt for the deposit and the rent for month one.

  She smiled as she handed it over to Audrey. “I am pleased to have you as a tenant, Madame Malan. You have done an excellent job and I am truly grateful. Some of the tenants I’ve had in the past have been untrustworthy, not to mention downright shabby.” She paused for breath, came to a decision and carried on. “One of the worst was that American singer who’s in hospital at the moment. When he was here ten years ago, he rented one of my houses for a year and never paid me a centime in rent. It was so dirty when he and his band left I nearly had it knocked down.”

  Felix looked at me, but I shook my head to warn him off the subject. We said nothing about Jonny Sauvage’s death.

  Our party broke up with Audrey thanking Madame Desert who turned round as she was walking away and said, “You need to do something about the rats. They will come back again if you don’t.”

  Audrey clasped her hand to her throat in her usual way when upset. “I hadn’t thought of that, Penzi. What shall we do?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Go home now and see to your children. Felix and I will stay and have another drink. We’ll sort out the rats.”

  Felix watched Audrey walk away before turning to me and saying, “Are we doing the rat trick again? The trans-something or other spell?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. We could, but not butterflies this time. If we put any more butterflies into the ecosystem, the town’s gardens will be ravaged by caterpillars next spring. We have to think of something equally beautiful but helpful.”

  We tossed ideas back and forth for a few minutes until Felix hit on the ideal solution. “Bees! Not that I like them, but it could work.”

  “Brilliant idea. We can never have enough bees to pollinate our gardens and fields. But bees need a queen. We can’t let loose thousands of bees with no leader. They’ll die.”

  “How do we find a queen?”

  “On the internet. I bet we can order a queen bee. I know you can order ladybirds. And we’ll need a beehive.”

  “Two. Let’s get two and two queens in case there are too many bees for one hive.”

  “Done,” we both said together and hi-fived.

  Felix said, “We’ll order them when we get back. They’ll probably deliver in forty-eight hours.”

  “How about we visit Father Pedro? He keeps bees. He could advise us on what type of queen to get. We’d have to build the right type of bee into our spell.”

  “Do you want to walk, or shall we fetch the car?”

  “Walk. And I have another idea I’ve been working on, but I have to check it out before I tell you.”

  “Penzi, don’t be so mysterious. Tell me. I could use some good news today.”

  The same was true for me. Talking about bees had made me forget about Jonny Sauvage for a few moments. I decided to prolong the good feeling and tell Felix my idea.

  “Remember my conversation with Brioche about the flour?”

  Felix nodded.

  “How about getting Brutus and Naomi a new job once the flour’s been sold? A new job as rat catchers at The Union Jack?”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Let’s go and ask them now. We could pop in and see them on the way home. We both need something positive to think about.”

  *

  We caught Father Pedro in his garden. He had an hour to go before he had to prepare for vespers.

  “What can I help you with, my child?” he asked me in his Spanish accented French. “Not more difficult problems of conscience?”

  “No, Father. This is my friend and protector, Felix,” I said introducing Felix to him.

  The priest shook Felix’s hand. “It’s good to see Penzi has someone at her side in her fight against evil. You’ll always be welcome in my church.”

  I hid a smile at the sight of Felix being nonplussed. I didn’t imagine that organized religion had formed part of his childhood in the jungle, but I could have been wrong.

  “Father, we want to ask you for advice about bees.”

  “You couldn’t have come to a better place. Follow me round to the back garden where I keep my hives.”

  The walk through his garden around to the back overwhelmed me with the beauty of color and fragrance. The Father has designed a garden to please his bees. They buzzed about, gathering nectar from all their favorite plants: lemon balm, honeysuckle, dog roses and many flowers. I made a note to ask the Father for suggestions when we had the time to plant up our back yard at Les Dragons.

  Sheltered against the north wind, five hives stood along the wall surrounding the rectory garden.

  Father Pedro stopped about ten feet away. “We won’t go any closer because we don’t want the bees to feel their territory or their honey is threatened.”

  “Are they aggressive?” I asked him.

  “Not if they’re allowed to go about their business. These are Abeilles du Frère Adam de l'abbaye de Buckfast, known as the Buckfast Bee.”

  “That’s a long name,” said Felix.

  Father Pedro smiled. “It is. The Buckfast Bee was bred at Buckfast Abbey in England. It’s well adapted to urban areas. It’s gentle and hardworking. We have an indigenous bee here in France but it’s better suited to rural areas, the abeille noire française — the French black bee — whose Latin name is mellifera mellifera.”

  “What a tantalizing name. It conjures up golden honey dripping from the comb. Makes my mouth water.”

  Father Pedro laughed. “Bees are great characters. You’ll enjoy bee-keeping.”

  “So if we were to keep bees you would advise the Buckfast Bee, Father?” I asked him.

  “I would. In fact, if you are serious next time my bees swarm I’ll give you a call. I can’t handle more than five hives. You’d be welcome to come and collect the swarm.”

  “Thank you, Father. I may need to pick your brains from time to time.”

  “I’m happy to help. Now, would you like to come inside for a glass of mead?”

  The rectory although more modern than the church had been built in the traditional fashion with walls two foot thick. The temperature dropped over five degrees as we stepped inside. Felix and I sat down on an old sofa covered with crocheted afghans in a variety of colors that echoed the brilliance of the flowers outside in the garden.

  Father Pedro poured us all a tall glass of mead. It wasn’t a bit like I expected. Not sweet at all. The alcoholic impact of the drink was shot through with the unmistakable flavor of honey.

  “I thought it would be sweet,” I said to Father Pedro.

  “This is dry mead. Like any alcoholic drink the sugar, in this case honey, gets absorbed in the process. Drink it slowly, it’s powerful.”

  A third of the way down the glass, my head began to spin with the combination of the alcohol and the summer heat.

  “Just as well we’re not driving, Father,” said Felix as he drained his glass.

  I put mine down only half finished. I had something else to talk to the Father about.

  “Father Pedro,” I began.

  “Yes, my child, if it’s too much for you, please leave it.”

  “Father, you will have heard by now that the
American blues singer, Jonny Sauvage, died this morning in hospital?”

  “Yes, the hospital always informs me of a death. I had been to see him the day before, but of course he was in a coma. Even so, I said my prayers over him.”

  “At this stage, we don’t know what is to happen about a funeral. As he was murdered—”

  “Oh, I didn’t know he was murdered,” Father Pedro burst out. “Not another murder here in our peaceful little town?”

  “I’m afraid so, Father. We don’t know when the police will release the body or if it will be sent back to the States for a funeral. I’m helping the mayor with the formalities. So, please keep in mind that you may be holding a funeral for Jonny Sauvage within the next six to ten days.”

  “Yes, the police investigation could extend the mandatory seven days. Did he have many friends here in Beaucoup-sur-mer?”

  “That’s a difficult question, Father. You haven’t been here long enough to know how badly he behaved when he came here ten years ago. He has some friends, but also a lot of people who could have wished him harm, hence his murder.”

  “Oh dear. Is there anyone I should comfort?”

  “His American girlfriend is here. Perhaps you could visit her.”

  Father Pedro shook his head at the enormity of the situation and asked me for the address which I gave him.

  We said our goodbyes and left the father standing in his doorway looking forlorn at the thought of the wickedness of which his flock was capable.

  *

  Although I started off towards the ruins of Tidot’s bakery in a tipsy state, the fresh air and exercise went some way to sobering me up before we reached the flour store.

  Brutus and Naomi didn’t hear us approach. Sprawled out in the hot sun they were both snoring gently.

  “Hey,” Felix said, nudging Brutus gently with his foot. “Wake up. Penzi has something important to tell you.”

  “What, what?” Brutus mumbled as he stirred and sat up, his cat’s pupils shrinking to slits as the bright sunshine hit them. “Oh, it’s you,” he said and scrambled to his feet.

  He put out his back leg and gave Naomi a surreptitious kick. She awoke and sat up to face us in one fluid movement, her tabby ginger stripes rippling as she moved.

  “Greetings,” she said. “We’re permanently off duty at the moment.”

  “Oh why?” I asked.

  She sauntered over to the door of the flour store and waved a paw. “Take a look. All the flour’s gone. We have nothing to guard. Not only are we unemployed, but we are dispensable.”

  Brutus wrapped himself around my ankles. “We need help, Penzi. How much longer is the mayor’s office going to feed us if we’re doing nothing?”

  Felix peered in through the door. “Wow,” he said. “That was quick. You only spoke to Brioche yesterday.”

  “He’s a businessman. He knew a good deal when he saw it. You never know he might give me free éclairs for life.”

  “You’d better hope he doesn’t. You don’t want to lose your sylphlike figure, boss.”

  “Much good does it do me. I attract the wrong men.”

  Naomi chirped. “Don’t we all?”

  Brutus puffed himself up and skittered sideways towards Naomi. “I thought we were made for each other.”

  Naomi darted out of the way. “Doesn’t mean I can’t look. There’s this gorgeous tomc—”

  I moved quickly between them and crouched down to pet them both. I waited until they purred in concert before dropping my news on them.

  “Guys, we have a solution for you. The perfect job. Are you interested?”

  Naomi tipped her head up towards me and stared me in the eye. “Please, Penzi. What?”

  “We have a friend, Audrey, a young Frenchwoman. She’ll be taking over the shop at the far end of the Esplanade, The Union Jack.”

  “The one where the murderer lived?” asked Brutus.

  “That’s the one. While the shop stood empty a horde of rats invaded it and took up residence.”

  “Yuk,” said Naomi lifting her paws one by one as if she had stepped in a cowpat.

  “We’ve cleaned it up.”

  Felix interrupted. “And we need to get rid of the rats hiding out in their tunnels underground.”

  “By magic?” asked Naomi. She was always the quicker of the two cats.

  “Exactly. But Audrey will need a feline presence in the property afterwards to stop other rats from getting the wrong idea and moving in.”

  “That’s where we come in?” asked Brutus. “It sounds perfect to me. Right by the beach. Lot of cats in the area for company. But does this Audrey have children?”

  “Two.”

  Brutus swung round and stalked off. “No kids,” he shouted back over his shoulder. “Where do you think I got this mangled tail?”

  Naomi ran after him and whispered in his ear. They argued for a few moments. Brutus shrugged his shoulders, but he turned round and walked slowly back towards us.

  “Well?” I asked him.

  “Naomi says that any children you know would be well behaved and would never dream of tying fireworks to a cat’s tail. Is she right?”

  “Absolutely. They’re no angels, but they’re not sadistic demons either. You’ll like them. And their dog.”

  “DOG?” shouted Brutus. “This gets worse and worse.”

  Even Naomi cowered back at the thought of a dog.

  Felix picked her up and stroked her until her fur lay flat again.

  “The dog is cute,” I said. “Brutus is larger than he is. He’s a little dachshund. He lived in the shop before. His name’s Piffle.”

  “Can’t have much dignity or self-respect then,” said Brutus.

  “Brutus, he didn’t choose his name. Now how can you be afraid of a dog called Piffle when your name is Brutus?”

  “Who said I was afraid?”

  Felix put Naomi back on the ground and she ran to Brutus. “Listen, you feline numbskull. This is an ideal job. Good lodgings, plenty to eat and the shop’s only a street’s length away from Penzi’s house. Please don’t screw this up for us.”

  Brutus took time out to regain his poise. He gave himself a wash and brush up finishing with a good de-fleaing of his tail region.

  “Brutus,” I said after a reasonable wait. “Felix and I are tired. We want to go home and have something to eat. Are you interested or not?”

  He stopped messing about and looked up at me. “We’ll take it,” he said. “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We get to watch you magic the rats away.”

  “Done,” I said reaching down to pat my palm against his paw and then Naomi’s.

  Felix copied my gesture. “Why don’t you follow us down there now and we’ll let you in. We’ll carry your beds and your food bowls.”

  “Great,” they both said.

  And off we went.

  Chapter 19

  Felix and I decided we would forgo Friday night drinks out at one of the local bars. We couldn’t put off talking about Jonny Sauvage’s murder for ever, and so we retired to my study together once supper was over.

  We mulled over what we had seen and heard the day before while Jonny was dying in his room only yards away from where we were standing.

  Felix suddenly broke up the conversation. “I don’t understand why we’re doing this.”

  “Doing what?” I asked. “We’re only talking.”

  “That just it. We’re analyzing what happened as if we’re going to do something about it.”

  That shook me. Felix had put his finger right on the problem. Should I get involved or should I stay out of it? The lawyer in me burned to find justice for Jonny Sauvage. The sister in me wanted to spend time with my family and open up the new antiques business. Either way, I was intrigued by the puzzle the case presented.

  Felix nudged my elbow off the table. “Wake up. You’ve got that far away look in your eye. You’re not thinking of taking the case on are you?”<
br />
  I narrowly missed hitting my chin on the edge of the desk. Recovering my balance I gave Felix a good sideways kick in repayment.

  “Cards on the table?” I asked.

  Felix nodded. “No cheating.”

  “Number one: I find myself intellectually challenged by the murder scene. Number two: I owe it to Jonny. As I’ve said, I consider myself to be his legal representative in death if not in life. Number three: It’s my duty as a white witch to combat evil whenever I can.”

  I paused to work out how to make my final point.

  Felix grinned. “So far, three reasons why you should do it. What about the cons?”

  “Number four: Against. You are against anything that could bring me harm. We both know murderers have a nasty way of escalating their wickedness when the powers of good move in to apprehend them.”

  Again I paused.

  “And five?” prompted Felix.

  I sighed. How could I make him understand without coming across as weak or cowardly?

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I’m capable of solving this one. It’s too difficult.”

  “Why? What’s so different?”

  “Think about it for a moment, Felix. I’m too close. I’m personally involved. I spent several days with Jonny and his band. I’ve met and spent time with most of the people we would have to regard as suspects. I’ve probably talked to and even liked the murderer. How can I be objective? All my judgments and assessments will be tainted by familiarity.”

  Felix didn’t speak. He stared into the fireplace until I lost patience.

  “Felix, say something. Anything. I’m in a difficult place here.”

  “So am I,” he answered at last. “The last thing I want you to do is to take on this case. Your safety is my chief concern. But … and I hate to say this as it goes against my protocol for looking after you … you will never forgive yourself if you don’t find Sauvage’s murderer. I know you. The pursuit of justice is one of your core values. You have to stay true to yourself and take this on.”