by Adele Abbott
“Shall we sit over there?” He pointed to a small alcove.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the bench seats? They look a little more padded.”
He looked confused for a few moments, but then the penny dropped, and he managed a smile. Since the ‘rigged-raffle date’, we’d been out together twice more. The first time, he’d tried to make me look an idiot at the bowling alley—although that hadn’t exactly worked out as he planned. The second time, I’d had my revenge at the ice rink where he’d spent most of the time on his backside, which is why I’d just offered him the padded seat. Neither of those outings had been what I’d call a date, although I’m sure Kathy and Mrs V would have said otherwise.
“I’m sorry about the skating thing,” I said when he brought our coffees to the table.
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” I laughed. “Just being polite.”
“I don’t have very long.” He checked his watch.
“You really know how to make a girl feel wanted.”
“Unlike you, I have work to do.”
Cheek! “I’ll have you know that I’m rushed off my feet.” The mystery of the squashed cupcakes wasn’t going to solve itself.
“What can I do for you?” He winced as the coffee burned his lips.
“I'm just keeping you posted as promised. I’m working on the murder at Tregar Court.”
“The ‘Lift of Death’?”
“Why are you using the Bugle’s headline?”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t, but it’s what everyone has started calling it. Who’s hired you?”
“A friend of the victim.”
“Friend? A woman?”
“Yes. They were just good friends apparently.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“When did you become so cynical?”
“I was born that way. Anyway, you know the drill. Don’t get in our way.”
“I’ll do my best. Is there anything you can tell me?”
“You know better than that.”
“What about the CCTV. Can I see it?”
“I don’t see why not. The management company at Tregar uses a security firm, Gravesend Security, to monitor the CCTV in their apartments. I can ask them to let you take a look at it. Another pair of eyes on it can’t do any harm. Goodness knows, I’ve watched it enough times, and there’s nothing to see.”
“Nothing? I thought he was murdered in the lift.”
“He was. He’d been stabbed when the lift reached the ground floor. The concierge saw him fall to the ground when the lift doors opened. But there’s no sign of him being stabbed on the CCTV.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Tell me about it.” Maxwell gave up on the coffee, which was hotter than Hades. “I have to get going.”
“Okay, thanks. Will you let Gravesend Security know I’ll be over later today?”
He gave me a thumbs up as he headed to the door.
Pearl phoned while I was on my way back to the office.
“Don’t forget it’s the baking competition tonight.”
I’d lost all track of the days. “Did Aunt Lucy decide to enter in the end?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling. I thought you’d want to be there to support her.”
I did, but it had totally slipped my mind. “Okay, I’ll try to make it, but there’s something I have to do first.”
“Do your best. I know she’d love you to be there. You should see the cake she’s made. It’ll win easily.”
“Sounds great. Look, I have to run. Probably see you later.”
***
Gravesend Security was on a new industrial park, two miles west of Washbridge. If their own security was anything to go by, they should provide a good service to their clients. I didn’t think I was even going to get through the gates at first; Maxwell’s call hadn’t come through. I was on the verge of breaking open the spell book when the man in the control box confirmed authorisation had been received.
“We’ve already given the police a copy,” Tony said. In his late twenties, he had long hair and a nose which had been broken at least once. “How come you need to watch it here?”
The real reason was that Maxwell wouldn’t have wanted his people to know he had given me access.
“I was in the area, so it made sense to view it here.”
It didn’t, and Tony knew it, but he pulled the CCTV up on-screen anyway.
“That’s the fourth floor,” he said.
The illuminated panel on the left hand-side confirmed the floor number.
“What about the fifth? Doesn’t anyone live on the top floor?”
“Yeah, but the lift didn’t get called to the fifth. The first people to get on were on the fourth.”
The black and white images came from a camera which must have been mounted inside the lift, above the doors. A middle-aged couple entered and stood facing the doors. It began its descent, stopping again on the third floor where a man, who I recognised from press photos as the victim, entered the lift. The man didn’t appear to speak to, or even acknowledge the couple. He stood at the front, facing the doors.
It began to descend again—passing the second floor without stopping. On the first floor, a young woman entered the lift. She too, didn’t speak to, or acknowledge the other occupants. Apparently, neighbourhood spirit was alive and well in Tregar Court.
Once on the ground floor, the occupants vacated the lift.
“Is that it? I didn’t see anything happen.”
“Just a second.” Tony used the mouse to bring up another tape. “This is taken from the lobby.”
This second camera was situated on the ground floor. After a few seconds, the lift doors opened, and the victim, his chest stained with blood, fell face-first to the ground. The other occupants stepped over him into the lobby. The older woman appeared to be screaming. The younger woman was on her phone.
Afterwards, I was escorted out of the building by one of the secretaries. I could see why Maxwell hadn’t objected to my viewing the footage. There really was nothing to see. The other occupants of the lift had been standing right behind the victim who had died from stab wounds to the chest, and yet they had seen nothing. Nor had anything been picked up on CCTV. It made absolutely zero sense, unless he’d been stabbed before he got into the lift.
“You were lucky,” the secretary said.
“How do you mean?”
“Tony’s a bit of a creep. He used to have wandering hands; if you know what I mean?”
“Used to? Did he get a warning or something?”
“He got a girlfriend. Don’t ask me how. Someone told me she’s a real looker too. No accounting for taste.”
***
I used magic to transport myself to Candlefield. I wanted to make sure I was there in plenty of time for the baking competition. Pearl had told me to meet them at their place, above Cuppy C. I had my own room there where I kept a selection of clothes.
“Aunt Lucy and Grandma are going to meet us at the civic hall,” Amber said.
“Grandma? Is she coming? After all she said about Aunt Lucy’s baking?”
“She heard there’s a free bar.”
“She conned me out of ten pounds for a stupid competition—” I began.
“You won!” Amber said. “I almost forgot. Grandma said we had to tell you that you won the subscription. I didn’t even know you knitted.”
“I don’t. I won—really?”
“Yep.”
I was making a habit of winning competitions. Maybe I should start to do the lottery. But then, Kathy had rigged the raffle, and I wouldn’t have put it past Grandma to have done the same. But then why would she? It wasn’t like she’d do me any favours.
The baking competition was being held in the Washbridge Civic Hall. A grand title for a building which had seen better days. Stone steps with more filler than actual stone led to the outer hall, which was a fancy name for the waiting area.
/> Grandma and Aunt Lucy were already there when we arrived.
“Where’s the free drink?” Grandma said.
“Have patience, Mother.” Aunt Lucy’s sigh suggested it wasn’t the first time Grandma had asked that question. “It will be in the main hall.”
“When are they going to open the doors? A body could die of thirst out here.”
Aunt Lucy sighed again.
“Where’s your cake?” I asked.
“All of the competitors had to bring them earlier so they could be put on display before the main crowds arrived.”
“What’s the competition like?” Amber asked her mother.
“I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“The standard must be really low then, if you ask me,” Grandma said, as she checked her watch again.
“No one did ask you,” Aunt Lucy snapped.
The doors opened, and the crowd headed by Grandma, surged through to the main hall. Aunt Lucy led us to the section where the iced sponge cakes were to be judged while Grandma disappeared in search of the free bar.
“Oh no!” Amber screamed.
“No!” Pearl turned to her mother.
Aunt Lucy stared at what was left of her creation. The cake looked as if it had been hit with a mallet.
“Who would do that?” I said.
Aunt Lucy was so shocked, she couldn’t speak.
“What are you all looking so miserable about?” Grandma had what looked like a double whisky in her hand. “It looks like you could all do with a drink.”
“Look, Grandma.” Amber pointed to the remains of the cake.
“That monstrous looking thing is never going to win anything.” Grandma took a swig of whisky.
There were times when I could have gleefully strangled that woman.
“We may as well go home.” Aunt Lucy turned away.
“Hold your horses.” Grandma downed the rest of the whisky. “Don’t you want to stay and find out if you’ve won?”
Surely, no court in the land would convict me for murdering her.
Aunt Lucy began to walk towards the exit. The twins and I looked at each other, uncertain what to do.
“It’s a good thing I hid your cake this afternoon.” Grandma stooped down, lifted the tablecloth, and pulled out a magnificent iced sponge cake.
“How?” Amber stood open-mouthed.
Aunt Lucy turned around, and her face lit up.
“You lot are way too trusting,” Grandma said. “I know how these people operate, and what they are capable of doing, so I magicked up a look-alike and put it on display.”
“Thanks Mum.” Aunt Lucy gave Grandma a big hug.
I’d never heard Aunt Lucy call Grandma ‘Mum’ before, and I’d certainly never seen them embrace.
“Put me down, woman.” Grandma pulled away. “Don’t you want to know who did this?” She pointed a crooked finger at the mangled cake.
“How can we find out?”
“I spiced the replacement cake with a special potion. It should be very easy to spot the culprits.”
Sure enough, the perps were easy to identify. Grandma assured us that their pig noses would revert back to normal within twenty four hours. I’m not sure I believed her.
Grandma was on her third double whisky when it was time for the winners to be announced. It was all very tense. There were several worthy contenders in the iced sponge cake category.
‘Second place goes to Ruth Landown. And the winner of this year’s iced sponge cake category is Lucy—’
At that, the place erupted with cheers. Aunt Lucy was a popular winner with everyone except the pig noses. The prize was a modest silver cup, but Aunt Lucy could not have been happier.
“Let’s go home and celebrate,” she said.
“Jill, you have to come with us,” Pearl said.
I’d intended going back to Washbridge as soon as the winner had been announced, but I could hardly refuse to join in Aunt Lucy’s celebrations.
“Will there be drinks?” Grandma hiccupped.
Chapter 4
A few of Aunt Lucy’s closest friends joined us back at her house. There was hardly room to swing Winky.
“Where’s Lester?” I asked the twins after we’d sneaked out into the garden.
“That’s a good question,” Pearl said. “He should have been here for Mum’s big day.”
“I’m not sure Mum knows where he is.” Amber shivered—the night air was cold. “When I asked her about him, she fobbed me off.”
“Do you think they’ve had some kind of bust up?” I glanced at the door to make sure no one had followed us outside.
“Who knows?” Pearl drank the last of her wine. “Old people are weird. I’m never growing old.”
“Me neither,” Amber said.
“Talking of old people.” I hesitated long enough to check the coast was clear. “What’s with Grandma? She spends all day criticising your Mum’s baking, but then comes to the rescue like that.”
“Typical Grandma. She loves to wrong-foot you. The moment you think you have a handle on her, she surprises you.”
“Where is she anyway? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
The twins giggled.
“What?”
“We couldn’t possibly tell you.” They giggled again.
“Come on you two. What’s going on?”
“You mustn’t tell,” Amber said.
“She’ll kill us if she ever finds out.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
“Come with us.” Amber led the way back inside.
The main party was in the kitchen and dining room where the drink was still flowing, and music still playing.
Amber pointed to the door of the living room. “She’s in here,” she whispered.
Pearl put a finger to her lips. I nodded my understanding, but was beginning to regret ever asking about Grandma.
Amber opened the door as slowly and quietly as she could. What sounded like Wool TV was playing on the television. Amber peered inside, and then beckoned us to follow her.
The twins had their hands clamped tight over their mouths to stifle any laughter. When I saw the source of their amusement, I was too stunned to laugh or say anything. Grandma was on the sofa. She’d obviously fallen asleep, and had slumped to one side so her head was on the armrest. The side of her face was covered in jam and cream from the cake which was on a plate on the armrest.
I was terrified she might wake up, so led the way back out, through the kitchen and into the garden. The moment we were outside, the three of us dissolved into hysterics.
“We should have taken a photo.” Amber was crying with laughter.
“Too dangerous.” Pearl could barely speak. “She must never know.”
“That we saw her?” I tried to catch my breath. “She can hardly punish us for that.”
“Yes, well—” Amber glanced at Pearl.
“What?” I was getting a bad vibe.
“We didn’t just see her.”
“What do you mean?”
The twins giggled.
“What did you two do?”
“Well—” Pearl teased.
“Tell me!”
“We might have noticed that Grandma had fallen asleep,” Amber said. “And we might have noticed that she was beginning to slump to one side.”
“And we might have accidentally put a piece of cake on the armrest.” Pearl laughed.
They both laughed. I didn’t.
“You two are dead women walking.”
“You were with us.”
“I didn’t put the cake on the sofa.”
“I’m sure Grandma will believe you.”
They were right. Grandma was more likely to think I’d done it than the twins. We’d had a few run-ins lately.
“You two are evil.”
“Come on. You have to admit it’s funny.”
There was no denying that, but we were dealing with someone who wouldn’t think twice abo
ut turning all three of us into dung beetles.
“I’m going to call it a night,” I said.
“Aren’t you going to stay around until Grandma wakes up?”
“No, because I don’t have a death wish.”
“Are you going back to Washbridge?”
“I thought I’d stay here tonight. I promised Barry I’d take him to the park in the morning.”
“We’re going to hang on here.”
“Don’t you two dare blame me for the cake.”
“As if.”
Their innocent expressions didn’t fool me for a moment. If Grandma had them in her sights, they’d throw me under the bus without a moment’s hesitation.
***
I slept in my room above Cuppy C. Or at least, I tried to. What little sleep I did manage was filled with nightmares about giant jam and cream cakes, and dung beetles. I woke a little after eight o’clock. It came as something of a relief to find I still had only the two legs, and no overwhelming desire to roll balls of dung around the bedroom. I could hear no sign of life from the twins’ bedrooms which meant that they were either still asleep or had been turned into scarabs too small to be heard.
“Let’s go to the park,” Barry said. “Can we? Please. Can we?”
Barry was my Labradoodle. His tail was wagging so vigorously it threatened to lift him off the ground.
What I wouldn’t have given for some of his energy. It was taking all of my strength just to keep my eyelids open. “Come on then, boy. The park it is.”
“Yes! I love the park!”
He did too. Now that I’d had him for a while, I was a little more relaxed about letting him off the lead. He would run away and disappear for short periods, but he’d always come back in the end—at least that’s what I’d thought.
“Barry?” It was over ten minutes since I’d last caught sight of him. The park was huge with numerous copses. “Barry!”
My phone rang. It was the call I’d been dreading.
“Jill? I’ve been trying to catch you for days,” Drake said.
“Sorry, I’ve been kind of busy.”
“Where are you?”
I thought about lying—saying I was in Washbridge, but Drake lived close by, and for all I knew might have already seen me. “I’m in the park.”
