An Old Witches Tale

by Agnes Lester Brown

  Blaise chimed in, “And, we tested the potion I had prepared beforehand, so it was foolproof. I don’t think the police are going to find enough hard evidence to keep Petula behind bars. And then they’ll be back to square one.”

  “Worse could happen,” Dinah said, putting down a copy of the Fennelmoore Times with a large photo of Petula on the front page, under the headline Suspect Arrested in Mysterious Murder Case. “The cops might find enough evidence directly linking Petula to Joe’s death and land a conviction. If that happens, Petula might spend the rest of her life behind bars, innocent or not.”

  “I have a few hunches I want to follow up on,” Fae said and got up. “I’ll meet you guys back at the room in a while.”

  “Hunch” wasn’t an entirely accurate description for Fae’s thinking. She had a whole bunch of thoughts running through her mind that she had to make sense of, and for that, she needed a little quiet space.

  For a while, Fae wandered aimlessly around the long corridors of Shady Pastures, greeting residents whom she was friends with as she passed them. A few times, she stopped to have a chat. Inevitably, the first topic of discussion was Petula’s arrest. Almost without exception, everyone was happy with the police’s progress. At face value, the arrest seemed logical, following a motive that was clear as daylight: a dumped lover who took revenge, left behind a telltale letter, and would now pay the price for her actions.

  A vague fragrance of carnations and jasmine attracted Fae’s attention as she passed a room beside the kitchen. Curious to see where the scent was coming from, she peeked inside, where Brenda Drake was busy cutting fresh flowers and arranging them in vases. She looked up when Fae knocked on the door, unsure whether Brenda wanted to be disturbed. Her eyes were red and puffy.

  “I’m not an expert at flower arranging, but let me help you cut those flower stems,” Fae offered.

  “You don’t have to, but your company will do me good,” Brenda said and handed Fae a pair of scissors and an apron. “These flowers were donated to the old age home by a benefactor, and I thought they’d look good in arrangements for the public areas.”

  For a while, the two stood side by side, snipping flower stems and talking about the sweet smells of the blooms. Then, inevitably, the conversation turned to Joe. Immediately Brenda’s eyes filled up with tears.

  Fae stopped clipping, dug out a tissue and handed it to Brenda. “You seem pretty torn up by Joe’s death. I didn’t realize you knew him that well. I’ve lost dear friends in my lifetime and cried myself to bits every time. I know how you feel.”

  Brenda shook her head. “Don’t mind me. I’m being silly. It’s just…”

  Brenda’s tears grew into a full-on sob before she could finish her sentence. Fae felt a painful emotion stir. It was one she’d last felt at a tender age, when she’d lost her first love while growing up in Fennelmoore. Her eyes went moist, and she put her arm around Brenda and hugged her.

  After a minute of crying, Brenda managed to compose herself. “I’m sorry. It’s been a tough time.”

  Fae was itching to satisfy her curiosity and ask some questions but waited for Brenda to open up by herself as they resumed arranging flowers.

  “I’m not sure he ever told you this, but I’ve known Joe for a very long time. We were colleagues at the company where we both worked. That’s how we got to know each other. When we were introduced, we instantly knew we were kindred souls. We shared the same interests. We spent hours solving the problems of the world, went to bookshops together, hung out. It was a short but magical time for both of us. We both knew it wasn’t meant to be, and we stopped seeing each other after a week.”

  Fae held a yellow carnation under her nose and breathed in. “What happened next?”

  “I unexpectedly became pregnant and knew it was Joe’s child. I never told Howard, and he raised Hank as his own. I made a conscious choice to make my marriage successful and provide a stable home for my son. I quit my job soon after to stay home and take care of Hank, who was an exceptionally difficult child. Joe, on the other hand, started drinking heavily, and in the end, he did time in jail for fraud and embezzlement.

  “Then, imagine my surprise when Joe showed up at the door six months ago out of the blue, after I hadn’t seen him in twenty years. He’d answered an ad for the janitor position here.”

  Fae wondered whether it was really a coincidence, or whether Brenda and Joe had kept in contact. But there was no reason for Brenda to lie. On the contrary—she looked relieved to be able to share her secret with someone.

  Brenda continued. “We recognized each other instantly the moment Howard introduced us. When he left after his interview with Howard, I was hoping I’d never see him again. But the next thing I knew, Howard had offered him the job and he’d moved in. The first few weeks were very, very awkward, but then we got used to each other.”

  “That must’ve been a big shock, seeing him again,” Fae said. “Does Hank know who his real father is? I noticed he wasn’t at the funeral.”

  “I never told him, no. Joe and I agreed not to ever tell him. It wasn’t worth the upset it would cause. Joe meant nothing to him. He was just another employee. So I’m not all that surprised he wasn’t at the funeral.”

  Brenda put down her shears and collected the cutoffs. “There, now you know why I’m being such a cry-baby. Even after twenty years, it hurts when someone you once loved dies.” She looked at Fae. “Thanks for listening to me without judgment. I’m sure you’ll keep what I’ve shared with you to yourself, won’t you?”

  Fae had never been one for sentimentality. She preferred to deal with difficult situations directly, rather than avoid the pain. But there was something about Brenda’s situation that made her empathize. Her voice was therefore tender when she replied.

  “Don’t worry, this is between us. I won’t mention a word to anyone.”

  Brenda opened her handbag and took out a photo from a hidden side pocket. She showed it to Fae.

  “I recognize Joe in there,” Fae said. “But who are the children?”

  Brenda pointed at the boy on the right. “This is Willie, Joe’s in the middle with his arms around their shoulders, and Hank’s on the left. This was taken the last time I saw him, after he came out of jail. He called, said he’d been released and wanted to see Hank one final time. While we met, he somehow wangled a way for him to be with both boys, and a friend of his took the photo and later gave a copy to me. I think Joe probably carried a copy with him, too.”

  “You realize the weight that will lift from your shoulders if you told Hank the truth,” Fae said. “These festering secrets have a way of coming out at the most inopportune moments. My advice is to face up to it and have a talk with him as well as Howard. It’s essential, more than ever now that Joe’s no longer here.”

  Brenda took Fae’s hand and looked into her eyes. “I know you’re right. But this will be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life. There’s a good chance Hank will hate me forever afterwards. I can’t do this on my own. You’re such a strong, grounded person. Can you support me when I tell him, please?”

  Fae got up, untied her apron and turned to leave. “You let me know when you’re ready,” she said. “I promise, you won’t be alone in this.”

  “Strictly cash on delivery,” Fae whispered into the car window as she handed the three potion sampler boxes to the eager hands inside. She counted the money handed to her by the light of the full moon.

  “You’re twenty dollars short. Either pay up, or we’ll have to keep the broom.” She did her best not to sound irritated at yet another customer hoping an old lady’s arithmetic would let her down. “And hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

  A minute later, the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance, and after the routine change of clothes, the three witches made their way back across the darkened parking lot, back to the front door of Shady Pastures. “Cheapskates,” Fae grumbled and pocketed the twenty dollars she’d had to squeeze out
of their customers.

  “These small deliveries are hardly worth the risk,” Dinah complained, looking around furtively. “I’m a nervous wreck every time we have to venture out. How long before we get caught sneaking back in?”

  Her words had barely left her lips when another set of headlights appeared in the driveway. However, instead of going into the visitor parking lot, the vehicle continued to the employee parking area. For a minute, the witches stood frozen outside the front door, too scared to move as a figure got out of the car and started walking towards the front door.

  Fae tried her best to sound like meeting Stanley Ellis at midnight was perfectly normal.

  “Good evening, Stanley. We were out getting a bit of fresh air. The air in our rooms is very stifling this time of year. Looks like you had a late night out, too?”

  Stanley stopped dead in his tracks when Fae began to speak. However, he recovered well from the shock of seeing the women and resumed coming up the stairs an instant later.

  “Yes, I was out for the evening to see a movie in town and remembered I left some papers I need at the office. Shall we all go inside? I don’t know about you, but I’m dead tired.”

  “So, what movie did you see?” Fae wanted to break the uneasy silence between them as they stood in the deserted reception area.

  For a moment Stanley appeared to be at a loss for words. Then he gave a hollow, forced laugh.

  “You won’t believe it, but I can’t recall. It didn’t make much of an impression. In fact, I fell asleep halfway through. Must be because I had a tough day. Good night, ladies.”

  And with that he hurried off, not looking back as the witches made their way to Room Fifty-Five.

  Chapter Seven

  Fae decided it was time she had her hair done, again.

  She slid into the hairdresser’s chair Julie motioned her into, giving her an abashed look. “I simply can’t stay away from your good company. I enjoy our chats so much. It’s a welcome break from the boring company of those two plain-Jane roommates of mine.”

  Fae knew from Julie’s merry laughter that she didn’t mind the company. She knew the two of them would, as usual, use their time together well. Shady Pastures always had lots of gossip to share.

  “Wasn’t Joe’s funeral a moving affair?” Julie said as she started clipping away at a few wayward strands of Fae’s hair. “I must admit, I was so moved to tears, I almost had to join Brenda outside the church to avoid making a spectacle of myself.”

  “Well, at least they have the culprit behind bars.” Fae was angling to hear Julie’s opinion on the matter.

  Julie wrinkled her nose. “She’s half-crazy, that Petula woman. She has to be. What else drives a person to killing their lover? Holden’s convinced they’re going to get a quick conviction. Apparently the forensics found lots of Joe’s DNA under her fingernails.”

  It was clear Julie had made up her mind, too, so Fae changed the subject.

  “Guess who we saw slipping into the building way past midnight last night?” To add drama to her answer, Fae paused a few seconds for Julie’s curiosity to build up before she finished. “You won’t believe it—none other than Stanley Ellis.”

  “Really?” Julie stopped blow-drying Fae’s hair. “What on earth was he doing here at that time of night? I’d have thought he was well past the age for late-night partying.”

  “I went for a drink of water, and when I looked through the window, I saw his car driving up and parking at his usual spot. When we saw him earlier this morning, he claimed he was at the movies and had come to get some files, but I wonder about that.” Fae knew that would start the wheels of speculation turning, and she wasn’t disappointed.

  “My cousin Marianne, who’s a croupier at a casino, says she regularly sees Stanley at the tables. Maybe he was out gambling late, lost some money, and came here to raid the petty cash box.” Fae knew Julie was only half-joking.

  “An accountant that gambles? Now that sounds a contradiction in terms.” Julie had a good laugh at Fae’s sardonic remark. “I hope he wins big, so we can have pudding again.” But she made a note to run Julie’s remark past the others to hear what they thought about it.

  The orange light of dawn had begun coloring the grey sky in the east, yet Fae was still lying awake. She’d only slept an hour since going to bed, when she was forced awake by a nasty nightmare. She was chasing the phantom of Joe’s killer through a never-ending maze, trying to take shortcuts without succeeding. Then, just as she was about to catch the killer, he sailed off in a steamboat. She knew how the boat had gotten into her dream—it was the same one her uncle had gone off to Europe in to join the Second World War, never to return.

  Since waking up, she’d been tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep again. On top of it, Blaise had eaten too much yogurt during breakfast the day before and was lifting the roof with her snoring.

  A growing list of people had motives to do away with Joe, Fae thought while she lay staring at the ceiling. Willie’s visit to Shady Pastures was still unexplained. Why had he visited Joe? Next, Petula would have to come up with a very, very good explanation to avoid being locked up. If Claptrap had found out about Joe’s history with Brenda, which might have been rekindled after he’d arrived at Shady Pastures, that would be good reason for him to want to get rid of Joe. Perhaps his plan to fire Joe had gone awry. At least it looked like Gail didn’t have any obvious motive. That helped.

  Someone knocked on Fae’s bedroom door after she’d returned from breakfast and was just about ready to go downstairs.

  She didn’t need a sixth sense to know who it was.

  “I knew it. I’ve been expecting you,” Fae said as she closed the door behind her and she and Brenda walked down the corridor. “I knew you’d make time for this, sooner rather than later.” She linked arms with her. “Brave girl. Don’t worry, this is going to go well.”

  Fae had to rest for ten minutes after climbing the staircase leading to the attic of the Shady Pastures building. She was sure she’d be worse off if she hadn’t been used to climbing the stairs down into the basement, but her age was showing. Brenda followed patiently in her wake, the photo of Willie, Joe and Hank in her hand.

  Her stamina might not be the same as years before, but there was nothing wrong with Fae’s ears. From afar, she heard the cacophony of dark, bass-filled music coming from a room to the right. “Death Metal” was what her goth granddaughter Rosie had told her it was called. The lightning flashes coming through the open door in the otherwise-deserted floor confirmed it was the room they were heading for.

  Hank Drake was sitting on the edge of his bed, his round, shaven head bopping up and down as he lifted and dropped a huge iron barbell he was exercising with. Both his muscled arms were covered in gory tattoos featuring skulls, graveyards and reapers that were in sharp contrast with the golden Rolex watch he was wearing. A huge wall-mounted television was disgorging gory zombie scenes from a music video.

  Fae had glimpsed the room only once before, shortly after Hank had moved in. Then it had been sparse, containing little more than a bed, side table and writing desk. Now there was hardly a wall space not covered by posters of horror movies. An open display cupboard showed row upon row of silver-bladed knives of all shapes and sizes. Several photos pasted on the wall behind the bed showed Hank standing beside a brand-new Corvette parked in front of a showroom, receiving the keys from the salesman. She looked at Brenda, who only drew up her shoulders and shook her head.

  Hank was jobless. Fae had heard that he had worked as a doorman at a sleazy nightclub in the city until recently, but had run into trouble after landing a patron in the hospital. He’d also had several brushes with the law, all related to illegal steroid trading.

  For a moment, Fae hovered at the bedroom door. There was an evil force pushing against her chest from inside the room.

  “Hank!” Fae cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted the grimacing man’s name after knocking three times without attracting
his attention.

  Hank dropped the barbell to the floor. He pressed the mute button on a remote by his side, and a merciful silence fell over the room.

  “Can’t you read the sign on the door?”

  Fae looked at the outside of the door. A large notice in red letters announced No Entry. Do Not Disturb.

  “Well, the door was standing open, so I assumed I was welcome. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, your mother’s here too.” Fae tried not to breathe too deeply as she entered the room. “When did you get up and take a bath last? It smells like a cesspool in here.”

  “Are you two done?” Hank’s finger hovered over the mute button.

  Fae had never liked Hank, and his behavior at that moment did little to change her opinion. She thought he was a rude, brutish hulk with no manners. She didn’t have much to do with him—her impression came from the bickering she overheard between him and his parents, and his unsmiling, somber demeanor in the dining room.

  Fae looked at him with a mixture of distaste and apprehension. For a quick moment, images of her own grandchildren sprang to mind. They were mavericks, boisterous, often rebellious, but they were good kids. Unlike this one.

  She glanced at Brenda. The poor woman, her eyes fearful, looked like she was about to turn and run.

  Fae summed up the situation. Here was a young man who was living a separate reality from his family, who had had a tenuous relationship with his parents for most of his life. Knowing who was or who wasn’t his real father would in all probability leave him cold. She decided to get it over with quickly, for Brenda’s sake.

  “We’ve come here to talk to you about something important, but it seems you’re otherwise occupied and cannot be distracted. That’s fine. We’ll make this quick. Now, you’ve no doubt heard about Joe Humberton’s murder?”