by Adele Abbott
“Take a seat,” he said.
Every chair was covered with clothes—including some unsavoury looking underwear.
“It’s okay. I’ll stand.”
I ran through my usual list of questions. His answers were slow and ponderous. I wasn’t sure if he was nervous or high on something.
“What do you do for a living?”
He shrugged. Maybe the question was too difficult. I rephrased it.
“Where do you work?”
“I don’t have a job. Not at the moment anyway. I used to be a carpet fitter, but I had to give it up. Problems with my knees. The job’s murder on the knees.”
“I can imagine. Do you know any of the other residents?”
He shook his head.
“Are you sure? What about the woman on the first floor?”
His cheeks flushed red, and he began to shuffle around on the chair. “I don’t know her.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
I wasn’t sorry to get out of his apartment. That made two for two in the dishonesty stakes. Darcy had denied she knew Jason—which to be honest, was understandable, and he’d denied he knew her. What did they have to hide? And, how were they paying the rent on this place? I hadn’t checked the actual figures, but there wouldn’t be much change out of two thousand pounds a month. Darcy’s part-time modelling and Jason’s carpet fitting, when he was actually working, wouldn’t cover that kind of outlay.
I took the stairs, and bumped into the cleaner in between the first and second floors.
“Do you have a minute?” I said.
“Sure. Nothing exciting going on here.”
“Were you working when the murder happened?”
“No. It was my day off. I work two on and one off.”
“Do you clean the apartments?”
“No. Just the common areas. Some of the residents employ their own cleaners.”
Not the guy on two obviously.
“Do you talk to the residents?”
She laughed. “Me? I doubt they know I exist. I’m invisible.”
“I bet you see what goes on though.”
“Maybe.”
“Do you have any ideas about who might have committed the murder?”
She shook her head.
“Anything you can tell me? Did you witness any arguments between the residents?”
“No arguments, but—” She seemed unsure whether to continue.
“Go on. I won’t mention this to anyone.”
“I suppose you already know about those two? The woman on one and the man?”
I nodded. This was confirmation that the concierge had been correct about Darcy and Jason. So why had they denied knowing one another?
I called Jack Maxwell’s number. I didn’t have anything much to report—it was more a courtesy call to let him know I’d spoken to all of the residents of Tregar Court.
“Detective Maxwell’s phone.”
I recognised Sushi’s voice immediately.
“Is Jack there?” I said.
“Gooder, is that you?”
The last time someone had addressed me as Gooder was when I was at school.
“Yes. Can I speak to Jack, please?”
“I’ve told you. Your point of contact is me now. What do you want?”
Aside from dipping you head first into a vat of acid? “Nothing, it isn’t important. Will you tell him I called?”
I didn’t wait for the reply—I already knew what it would be.
***
“Slow down! I can't understand what you’re saying.” Kathy grabbed me by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath.”
I took several but it didn’t help. I was ten degrees north of livid.
“She’s a cow!” I said.
“Who is?”
“A poisonous cow!”
“Who are you going on about Jill?”
“Sushi!”
“Have you been inhaling yarn fumes again? You know how that affects you.”
“Detective Susan Shay. Sushi.”
“Has Jack Maxwell moved on already?”
“No. He’s still here, but now he has a minder. Susan Sushi Shay. She had the bare-faced cheek to warn me off.”
“Warn you off what?”
“Not what. Who. Jack Maxwell. She said she’s my point of contact now. I’m to leave Jack alone.”
“What does he say about it?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I can’t get near enough to find out. He’s too busy hiding behind his blonde floozy.”
“Well,” Kathy said. “It’s a good thing you don’t care about him otherwise you might really be upset.”
She ducked just in time to avoid the kangadillo which I threw at her.
“I’m not upset. This isn’t upset. This is angry!”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do?”
“You have to get Maxwell on his own. Maybe he doesn’t realise what his new partner is up to.”
“How am I meant to get him on his own when I can’t get near him?”
“Come on, Jill. You’re the resourceful one.”
Kathy was right. I did need to get Jack Maxwell on his own. If this really was the way he wanted things to be, then he should at least have the decency to tell me to my face.
Chapter 9
I didn’t want to be seen talking to Beryl Christy in the bakery, so I’d arranged to visit her at home—a rather grand house on the east side of Candlefield. There must be money in baking—Aunt Lucy should set up her own business.
“Mrs Christy, thanks for seeing me.”
“You really must call me Beryl. Come inside.”
Tea and cakes were served on the decking at the rear of the house. The gardens were huge and well maintained.
“You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. My late husband and I bought it many years ago. It’s really much too big for me now that I’m all alone, but I can’t bring myself to move.”
“I spent some time undercover in the bakery.”
“How did it go?”
“Nothing much to report yet. There is one thing I wanted to ask you though. I understand you recently dismissed an employee from the dispatch department.”
“Eddie Lingard. That’s correct.”
“Would you mind telling me why you sacked him?”
“I’m sorry but it’s a personal issue. It has nothing to do with the damaged cakes; I can assure you of that. I can vouch for Eddie.”
Now I was intrigued, but before I could press her further, a voice from inside the house interrupted us.
“Mum? Mum?”
Beryl Christy stood up and walked back towards the open French doors. “Annie, we’re out here.”
“I should have known you’d be out here.” Annie gave her mother a hug.
“Annie, this is Jill Gooder. I told you about her.”
“The private investigator.” She held out her hand. “How exciting.”
“Not really.”
Annie had the firm grip of a confident woman.
“I’d better be going,” I said.
“Don’t let me drive you away if you still have things to discuss.”
“It’s okay. We were done anyway. Thanks again.”
Why had Beryl Christy been so secretive about her dismissal of Eddie Lingard? Something smelled fishy.
***
“You two look gorgeous,” I said.
The twins beamed back at me. I’d never seen them so excited. It was the night of the school reunion, and both Amber and Pearl were looking forward to seeing Miles Best. Little did they know that they both had their eyes on the same guy. He must have been something special to have aroused all of that passion.
I knew it was wrong, and I realised I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help myself. There weren’t too many comedy gold moments like this, and I was determined to be there. I couldn’t wait to see the twins’ faces when t
hey realised that they were both hoping to meet up with the same guy. I had my car with me, so I offered to give them a lift to the school. They were so excited they barely paused for breath all of the way there.
“Enjoy yourselves!” I called after them.
“We will!”
I parked at the far side of the car park, and waited until I thought everyone would be inside. The music coming from the large hall was loud enough to dance to in the car park. I sneaked up to one of the windows on the side of the building, and peered inside. The hall was packed—school reunions were obviously much more popular in Candlefield than they were in Washbridge. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged me to mine.
I had planned to use magic to get inside, but the hall was so busy that I felt confident I’d be able to hide among the crowd without the twins spotting me. Where were they anyway? I needed to be sure before I went charging inside. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually spotted them next to the bar. There was no one standing with them, so they obviously hadn’t spotted their prey yet.
“Hello?” The man’s voice made me jump.
“Oh, hi.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I was just—err—looking to see how many people are here already.”
“Do I know you?” He studied my face. “Were you in my year? I don’t remember your name.”
My mind went blank—I glanced around. “It’s Lawn.”
“Lawn?”
“No, Dawn.”
“Dawn—?”
“Dawn—err—Tree.”
“Dawn Tree?”
“Yeah. I joined half way through the first year.”
“Oh yeah. Dawn Tree. I remember you now. I’m Miles. Remember?”
“Miles Best?”
“I know. I’ve put on a few pounds.”
A few? Way more than a few based upon how the twins had described him. “I barely noticed.”
“And the hair,” he said. “Gone!” He ran his hand across his bald head.
“It suits you.”
“Thanks. I’ve been looking forward to tonight for ages.”
“Me too.”
“I used to be really shy at school,” he said. “I was too scared to speak to any of the girls.”
“Looks like you’ve come out of your shell.”
“I sure have. There’s no stopping me now.”
“Is there anyone in particular you’re looking forward to seeing?”
“Two people actually. You might remember them. Twins: Amber and Pearl.”
“Didn’t they have ginger hair?”
“That’s them. Have you seen them?”
“I think you’re in luck. They’re standing by the bar.”
“Fantastic! Shall we go in?”
“You go ahead. I—err—I left something in the car. I’ll be right along.”
“Okay.” Miles Best headed for the entrance. “I’ll see you inside.”
The twins had their gazes fixed on the door. I had mine fixed on them. Both girls reacted when they saw the door open, but relaxed again when they saw the fat, bald guy walk in.
I glanced over at Miles. He’d spotted his quarry.
He strode across the dance floor—a man on a mission. The twins were still staring at the door—barely noticing his approach.
“Three, two, one—bingo!”
Miles was standing in front of them now. Their expressions changed from surprise to confusion to ‘get me out of here’.
Priceless! I headed back home.
***
It was just after midnight when I heard the footsteps on the stairs.
“Hi girls, how was it?”
Amber and Pearl shared the same dejected expression.
“It was okay.” Amber managed half-heartedly.
“The music was too loud.” Pearl kicked off her shoes.
“Did you see lots of old friends?”
“Some.”
“A few.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Not really.”
Amber disappeared into the bathroom.
“Did you see Miles?” I whispered to Pearl.
“No.” She shook her head. “He wasn’t there.”
“Shame.”
“I’m going to bed,” she said.
“Did you see Miles?” I caught Amber on her way to her bedroom.
“He didn’t turn up.”
“Shame.”
***
Back in Washbridge, I was so busy thinking about the twins and Miles Best that I almost collided with Betty Longbottom. “Oh, hello. How are you settling in?”
“Very well, thanks. Everyone seems very friendly.”
Too friendly if you ask me. “Did you meet Mr Ivers?”
“No. I knocked on his door but there was no answer.”
“You should try again. I’m sure you’ll like him.”
“Okay. I will.”
“Bye, then.” I made to leave, but Betty blocked my way.
“Jill? Is it okay if I call you Jill?”
“Sure.”
“I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight?”
I didn’t like the way this was going. Time for the ‘forget’ spell methinks.
Betty looked a little puzzled. “I’ve totally forgotten what I was going to say.”
“Oh well, never mind. Look, sorry but I have to rush.”
“Jill!” Mr Ivers appeared from nowhere. What had I done to deserve this?
“I have your newsletter!”
“Thank you.” I tried to contain my excitement. “By the way, have you met our new neighbour? Betty, this is Mr Ivers. Mr Ivers, this is Betty Longbottom. Betty is a tax inspector.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he stuttered.
“Do you like cake?” Betty said.
“What kind? I’m allergic to coconut.”
“Sorry,” I interrupted. “I have to rush. Bye.”
Just call me Cupid. That should get those two off my back for a while.
***
I almost dropped my spagbol when a voice from behind me said, “That looks tasty.”
“Mum, you scared me to death.”
“Death isn’t as bad as they make it out to be. I’m having quite a hoot.”
Even so, I wish you wouldn’t creep up on me like that.”
“Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
My birth mother died shortly after she’d told me I was a witch. Since then, her ghost had attached itself to me (technical term for haunting) and appeared at regular intervals. She’d recently married her childhood sweetheart, Alberto, another ghost. I’d been one of the bridesmaids—a nightmare in pink.
“How do you feel about the Levels Competition?” my mother said.
“It would have been nice if Grandma had bothered to ask me first.”
“You know how she is.”
“I’m beginning to.”
“Still, it’s quite a compliment. You’re the first witch she’s ever put forward.”
“I feel bad for the twins.”
“You shouldn’t. I really don’t think they’re all that bothered, and they’re certainly not good enough. They’re more interested in Cuppy C. Oh, and while I remember, thank you for being a bridesmaid.”
“That’s okay, but I wish you’d told me before the day of the wedding.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
She was probably right. “Of course I would have. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. How’s Alberto?”
“Lazy. I’d forgotten just how lazy men can be. Take my advice, don’t get married.”
“You’ve only been married for five minutes.”
“I’m only joking. I love him to bits really. I just need to get him trained. I was sorry to see you’ve ended things with that nice young man you came to the wedding with. What’s his name? Drake?”
“Things just didn’t work out.”
“And you don’t seem to be doing much
better with your other young man—the detective.”
“That never really was a thing.”
“Guess I shouldn’t hold my breath for grandchildren.”
“I’ve given up on men.” I hesitated. “Look—I—err—don’t know how to say this.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t mean this to sound unkind, but—.”
“Go on. Spit it out.”
“It’s just that I feel a little uncomfortable, knowing you’re following me around all the time.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Which is precisely why I don’t want you looking over my shoulder. No child wants their parents following them around.”
“But I worry about you.”
“I’m fine, honestly. You said yourself that I’m doing okay at this ‘witch thing’.”
“You are. You have the potential to be a great witch, but The Dark One is so dangerous.”
“I need you to give me some space. If I’m in trouble, I’ll call for you.”
“I worry so much—”
“So does every mother. That goes with the territory.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“So, will you promise not to follow me around any more?”
“I promise to try my best, but a mother can’t help worrying.”
“Okay, thanks. While you’re here, would you mind if I asked you something?”
“Of course, anything.”
“I was just wondering about—well about ghosts.”
“What exactly?”
“This probably sounds like a stupid question, but where do you live?”
“It’s not a stupid question at all. We live in another plane or dimension.”
“Really?”
“No, of course not.” She laughed. “We actually live in a place known as GeeTee.”
“GeeTee?”
“Short for ghost town.”
I waited—fully expecting her to laugh again, but she didn’t.
“Think of it like Candlefield. Humans don’t know that Candlefield exists, and yet it is home to all the sups. GeeTee is much the same. Ghosts live there, but it is invisible to humans and sups alike.”
“It’s not really called GeeTee is it?”
