His eyes began to water. Good Gretel, he was as bad at keeping things to himself as I was. ‘No. Yes. Look, last night the murderer was apparently caught, right?’
‘Right.’
He shook his head. ‘Wrong. I hate Mildred Valentine. She’s always been out to get weredogs. If anyone wants to see that woman locked away, it’s me. But Wanda, I know she can’t be the murderer. Because if she was, then Lassie would have come home.’
Oh dear. This time, Dudley could not hold it in.
≈
You might think that twenty-three security tapes – each one featuring eight hours of footage from a small candle store on Grafton Street – would make for incredibly interesting viewing. You would be wrong.
Luckily, we had popcorn, pizza and wine.
‘This pizza’s nice,’ I said, reaching for my third slice. ‘The cheese is weird. Tasty, but weird.’
‘It’s vegan,’ Max mumbled, fast forwarding through a scene that featured Connor Cramer rearranging one of his shelves. It was riveting. I would have liked to watch it in full myself. ‘And don’t laugh. I think you and your rat have laughed quite enough at my expense for one day. Yes, I’m a vegan weredog. Big deal. Lots of us are. I mean, if you had to spend three nights of every month eating whatever you found in restaurant bins, you’d soon go vegan too.’
‘Wayfairs don’t go in for a lot of meat either,’ I told him. ‘In the old days, they had to break up a lot of sacrifices. There’s only so much burning flesh you can encounter before you go off meat for good. Wait. Rewind that bit. Press play again from where the shop door opens.’
Max rewound the video to the correct point. As he pressed play again, his face grew pale. He was staring at the screen, even more transfixed than I was.
A young woman had entered the shop. She had long, shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes. She sidled towards Connor Cramer, pinched his behind, and grinned. Connor turned towards her, gathered her in his arms and … well … let’s just say they showed each other a lot of affection. And, as it turns out, when you fast forward through such moments, you still see quite a bit more than you might care for.
‘You know her?’ Dudley asked gently.
Max nodded. ‘That’s Lassie. My cousin. And I haven’t seen her for days.’
Dudley and I exchanged glances. For once, we were both mature enough to understand when a situation merited a calm, caring demeanour instead of riotous laughter.
‘Tell us about her,’ I said gently. ‘Tell us what you know.’
Max refilled our glasses, and began.
‘Lassie met Connor last summer. They fell madly, deeply in love. But they couldn’t meet up here, or in the witch enclave, so Connor rented a little flat in Rathmines. They were talking about coming out. They’d even been to speak to Eoin Reynolds about it. He was talking about campaigning for new legislation. The law says that weredogs can’t intermarry with anyone. Eoin wanted to change that law.’
I gasped. ‘You know he was another of the victims, right?’
Max sighed. ‘I know he was. He was also my best friend. I’ve been devastated about Connor and Eoin, and I’ve not been able to say a word to anyone. Because weredogs and witches are never friends. I was even worried about you being here, unempowered or not. But then I realised you worked for the Berrys, so I figured you’d be all right. I mean, no one messes with the Berrys, do they?’
I took a sip of my wine. Tomorrow’s exam was looking better than ever. And why did everyone think I was one of the Berrys now? I was their accounting assistant slash minion for goodness sake. ‘You said you knew that Mildred couldn’t be the murderer because if she was …’ I coughed. ‘… if she was, then Lassie would have come home. Tell me, do you know where Lassie is?’
Max shook his head miserably. ‘No idea. She rang me on the day it happened to tell me she was going on the run, but she hasn’t phoned me since. She said … she said she saw who did it. She was in the back, behind the curtains. She always hid there when the bell rang in case anyone saw them together. The shop filled up pretty quick, because Connor had a sale on jasmine-scented tea lights that day, so … anyway, she said there was someone she recognised in the shop, and they were standing behind a human. She said they whispered “Cluedo” and then the human just went wild and bashed Connor with the candlestick, over and over and over …’
I patted his hand. He was shaking and crying. ‘Max,’ I said softly. ‘The footage from the day of the murder is missing. The garda said so when he handed these boxes to Alice Berry today. I’d hoped to find something else on the tapes that would give me a clue but … I don’t think I’m going to find anything better than Lassie. And I kind of already know the answer to this but … I don’t suppose she gave you any idea of who she might have seen in the shop?’
‘No. But she said that the person saw her. She said it was a powerful woman, and that the woman told her that if Lassie breathed a word of what she saw, she’d make sure that every single one of Lassie’s family and friends would be put down. And I doubt she meant with the use of a nice sleepy-go-bye-bye-drug.’
15. The Water Bowl
I took a taxi to the exam hall. I’d stopped after two glasses of wine, so a hangover wasn’t the issue. The issue was one that I should have given more consideration to on the days preceding the exam, rather than on the day itself. I hadn’t studied. Not for days.
Despite my lack of preparation, the exam felt like it went all right – but then again, my judgement hadn’t been stellar of late. As I was leaving the hall I turned on my phone, and a text message came through from Will:
Happy Birthday, Wanda. And good luck with your exam. I haven’t been able to speak to you as much as I would’ve liked this last couple of days. Maybe I could meet you after the exam for a combined celebration/explanation.
Oh, bugger. I took in a deep breath and replied:
Have to meet up with family afterwards, but I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I can. Would definitely love to see you soon.
Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. I was very much hoping that I’d be meeting some family. Just not my own.
I made my way to Capel Street and looked for the side street Max had told me about. As with Westerly Crescent, once I knew it was there, I should be able to see it. Sure enough, I soon found a sign I’d never seen before: Eile Street.
I turned onto the street, wondering what to expect. Westerly Crescent was the only other enclave I’d encountered, though I’d always known they existed. As I took my first steps along Eile Street, though, I realised the set up was far different. The very first area was clearly for unempowered witches. The first store I passed was a bookshop, with titles in the front like Spells for Dummies: Simple spells even the Unempowered can master and Finding the Power Within: The inspirational biography of an Unempowered witch.
The shop next to that one sold crystals and charms, designed to increase power, and the rest of the stores went on in much the same vein. Across the street though, the shops were most definitely geared towards wizards. There were shops selling technical gadgets, as well as a large building called Wentforth’s College for Wizards. I put my head down. Unknown to any of my family, I’d taken an online course with Wentforth’s College. It had not gone well. I never did go in for the final exams. I knew by that stage I wasn’t cut out for wizardry, so I hardly needed an embarrassing fail on my record to prove it.
There was a café beside the college, and Max was standing outside. He waved at me and I ran to join him.
‘It’s just down here,’ he said, nodding towards a lane at the end of the street. The sign said Madra Lane.
We passed by a small cluster of dayturner-focused shops, selling pills and creams that promised to alleviate any discomfort that might arise should they venture out at night.
As we turned the corner onto Madra Lane, I felt dozens of weredogs staring my way. I was about as welcome here as … well, as a witch in a weredog enclave. I wore my Pendant of Privilege so they’d thin
k I was unempowered, but I doubted it made much of a difference.
Max led me to a pub called the Water Bowl. A large, blond man was standing outside the door. He was dressed in a dark-coloured suit, and was sweating in the afternoon sun.
He wiped his forehead, glaring at the pendant around my neck.
‘It’s alright Goldie, she’s with me,’ Max said.
Goldie grunted. ‘Plenty of pubs up her own part of the enclave, if she’s thirsty.’
Max sidled closer to Goldie. ‘Saw this guy in the Phoenix Park last Monday night. Looked a lot like you,’ he whispered.
Goldie grimaced, stood aside, and let me enter.
We made it three feet inside before I asked, ‘What was he doing in the park?’
Max came close to my ear and said quietly, ‘Running with one of the she-wolves from the Lupin Lane pack. Let’s just say that we’re not supposed to mix with them, and leave it at that.’
We walked to the bar and found two free stools. I was getting a little bit sick of hearing who wasn’t supposed to mix with who, to be honest. The barmaid seemed to have been told to expect my arrival, because she didn’t scowl when I asked for an orange juice. She was a pretty redhead with light blue eyes. As she handed Max his chocolate soymilk she mumbled, ‘Rover’s in the back.’
Carrying our drinks, we followed the barmaid to a room next to the toilets. She opened a door into a room that smelled a little like wet dog. To be fair it had been raining earlier that morning. A card game was taking place in the room, and the currency seemed to be tiny, gold bones. It certainly beat maintenance minutes.
A huge, red-haired man with a gold chain around his neck stood up, said, ‘Take a break, fellas,’ and left the table. He took a seat on a corner couch, and Max and I joined him.
‘You’re Wanda Wayfair,’ he said, sniffing me – thankfully, he did it from a safe distance. ‘I’m Rover.’
I extended a hand. He sniffed that, too. ‘Why are you wearing that ugly thing?’ He nodded to my pendant. ‘You already have your power.’
Max gawped at me. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘Well duh! Of course you do. Dudley’s not your pet is he? He’s your familiar.’
I gave a shrug that was somewhere between guilty and defiant. ‘Well a few days ago you told me you were my familiar. So I’m not going to apologise. And to be fair, Max – Dudley can talk. You kind of shoulda figured it out already.’
Rover let out a deep barking laugh and patted Max on the back. ‘She’s a Wayfair, Max. She’ll have her reasons. And don’t worry, Wanda – no one else smells power the way that I do. Your secret’s safe. Now, I’ve had a scent about, as we discussed.’
‘Rover’s got the best nose of any weredog,’ Max explained.
‘Yeah.’ I nodded. ‘I kind of got that.’
Rover grinned. ‘I like you, Wanda Wayfair. Our Max has done good.’
Max turned puce. ‘It’s not like that. She’s just helping me find Lassie.’
Rover shrugged. ‘Whatever you need to tell yourself. Anyway, I wish I had better news. But it’s like Lassie’s disappeared off the face of the earth, Max. I got her scent on Grafton Street, around the candle shop where that witch died. There’s a lot of witch scent in the area, too, but that’s to be expected. Then there’s a whole lot of lavender and peppermint and then … nothing.’
Max’s face fell. ‘The lavender and peppermint are good for disguising our scent,’ he explained to me. ‘She might have done it so I wouldn’t find her.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Rover. ‘But those smells don’t normally throw me off. I’m telling you, it’s like she just plain disappeared. And we might not be able to make a thing like that happen. But a witch certainly could. Either way, I’ll keep my nose to the ground. As for the other thing … now I’ve had a chance to meet her, I think you might be right.’
‘The other thing?’ I glanced at Max. ‘What other thing?’
Rover laughed again. He put me in mind of a pit bull owned by one of my old housemates. The dog was mostly white with brown ears, and he was the friendliest little guy in the world, right up until the night the house got broken in to. He tore that burglar apart. Yeah, I thought, looking at Rover – he’d be a great guy to have on your side, but you’d be a fool to make him an enemy.
He raised a brow at Max. ‘You’re asking for special favours for this girl of yours and you haven’t even told her? Do you even know if she wants a collar?’
Max swallowed, looked at me and said, ‘Yeah. I should’ve said. The thing is, I spoke to Rover about this earlier. Things are getting bad for weredogs. Vampires are coming down on us. Werewolves have never stopped coming down on us. I think we need to make friends with some witches. As in, openly make friends. Rover agrees.’
‘But these things have to be started somewhere,’ Rover cut in. ‘And where better to start than with a Wayfair? As witches go, your coven is one of the least unpopular. I’m the big dog around here, and I’m extending a welcome. But Max is worried about you being safe in the area. So to make sure the other dogs don’t mistake you for an enemy, I need to give you my seal of approval, so to speak. I’ve got you a collar. Now, technically, we don’t have any private enclaves. We’re not allowed to have them, just like the wizards, the dayturners and the unempowered. But … let’s just say we all mark our territory here on Eile Street. So if you’re here again – or anywhere like it – as long as you wear a collar, then the dogs will leave you be.’
My mouth hung open. ‘Collar?’ All sorts of images flashed through my mind. None were pleasant.
Rover let out another of his barking laughs, and pulled a ring from his pocket. It was black, and covered with silver studs. ‘This is a collar. What, did you think I wanted to put something around your neck?’
I snorted, putting the ring on my finger. ‘Well, you could have tried.’
‘Oh, I like you, Wanda. I like you a lot.’ He stopped laughing and turned back to Max. ‘Wanda can come and go now, in any of our private places. You have my word.’
≈
We left the boys in the back room to their poker game. Apart from my rather fetching ring, I was worried that coming to see Rover had been a waste of time. We were no closer to finding Lassie, and as long as she was still out there, I was sure that the real murderer was, too.
Max looked just as dejected as I felt. We sat at the bar once more. ‘I might get something to eat,’ he said. ‘They do a great black bean burrito here.’
‘You really like burritos.’
‘I really do.’
I glanced at my watch. It was lunch time. ‘Why not?’
My brain never worked well when I was hungry, so food was a pretty good idea. And the burrito really was good. It was spicy, but not too spicy. I was almost finished when my eyes strayed to a newspaper on the counter next to me: The Daily Dubliner.
The food was bringing my brain back to life. The sight of the newspaper brought the In Dublin’s Scare City article rushing to my mind. Except now, things that hadn’t made sense suddenly did. Cogs were turning rapidly, and I frantically tapped Max on the arm, but my mouth was too full to get out what I wanted to say. I chewed furiously, impatient to finish. He needed to hear this. But just as I was nearly there, the barmaid turned on the TV.
It was a lot newer and flasher than the TV my coven owned, and it clearly had a supernatural adapter chip installed, because it was turned to one of the witches’ channels, and the weredogs seemed to be able to view it with no problem at all.
Sandra the presenter was back again. This time she was standing outside a building that I guessed must be the Wyrd Court. I could spot the roof of the Hilltop Hotel a short distance away. A tall, thin, black-haired woman dressed in a glamorous black suit was being led towards a van by a group of Peacemakers.
I shivered as I looked at them. Their uniforms were grey and black, more like armour than anything, and they wore tight-fitting helmets, leaving only their eyes visible.
‘And there we have it, f
olks,’ said Sandra. ‘Mildred Valentine’s plea hearing is over, and boy was it exciting. She has entered a plea of not guilty. That’s right, folks. Despite the mounting evidence against her, Mildred Valentine is insisting she is innocent. Her trial will take place tonight.’
Sandra held a microphone up to a man. Like Mildred, he was dressed head to toe in black. I narrowed my eyes. I knew that man.
‘Mr Valentine, I assume you support your wife in this plea of hers.’
Mr Valentine nodded vehemently. ‘Call me Basil. And of course I support my wife’s plea, Sandra. Even though the evidence strongly suggests otherwise, I know my wife is innocent.’
Sandra patted his arm. ‘The evidence is certainly damning, Basil. Damning indeed. You’ll have heard that Peacemakers discovered her fingerprints at Berrys’ Bottlers, tying her to the break-in there. But did you know that the stolen Berry Good Go Juice recipe was found in her private office this very morning?’
Basil Valentine turned from the camera, sniffled a bit and said, ‘Oh no. Oh for the love of Dracula, no! Not more proof.’ He sniffled some more, looked back at the camera and said, ‘Despite this irrefutable evidence, I will stand by my wife.’
I finally swallowed that last bite of burrito. ‘Come on Max,’ I said. ‘We have to go. I think I’ve figured this out.’
16. The Longest Library
I tried again and again, but no one was answering. Melissa I could forgive. She had a final today, and for all I knew the exam was still going on. But my mother and Christine? They never ignored a phone call from me.
‘Maybe they’re busy preparing your birthday surprise,’ Max suggested as we ran through the city.
‘Eye of newt!’ I cursed. ‘You’re probably right. There’s usually a huge celebration when a witch gets her power. Couple that with my twenty-first and good Gretel, I can’t even begin to picture what they might have up their sleeves. Are you sure you’ve no idea how to find the phone number?’
A Magical Trio Page 11
