by Adele Abbott
Just then, I became aware of someone walking towards our table. It was Jack.
Oh bum!
“Hello, you two.” He glanced from me to Stuart and back again.
“Hello, Jack,” Stuart said. “We were just talking about you.”
Oh bum, bum, bum!
“Were you really?” Jack glared at me. “Tell me more.”
I said nothing, but Stuart did.
“I was just catching up on the Starr Fish case. I assume you know that I’ve hired Jill to work on it for me?”
Jack glared at me again. “Actually I didn’t know that. Jill must have forgotten to mention it to me.”
“About that, Jack.” I smiled as sweetly as I could.
“Never mind. I only popped in because I spotted you two through the window. I’m on my way to an important meeting. I’ll catch up with you later, Stuart. And you, Jill.”
I was really in trouble now.
After I’d finished my fishtail, I made my way to Ever A Wool Moment to see Kathy.
“I’m in deep water with Jack.”
“Really? You do surprise me. What have you done now?”
“He caught me with Stuart Steele in Bar Fish.”
“Oh dear.” She laughed.
“It isn’t funny. Stuart told him I was working on the Starr Fish case.”
“Oh dear.”
“Is that all you can say?”
“What do you expect? I warned you this would happen.”
“You don’t have to rub salt into the wound.”
“What did Jack say?”
“That he’d catch up with me later.”
“He’s probably planning a romantic night in.”
“Oh shut up, Kathy! You’re no help.”
Chapter 15
Mad stopped by the office. Her hair was down again, and it looked pretty wild. Yet she was still wearing her librarian outfit.
“Another lunch hour and a half?”
“No, it’s my half day. I’ve just finished.”
“I didn’t know you worked half days.”
“Neither does the boss.” She laughed. “I couldn’t stand the thought of spending another minute in that place, so I said I had a dentist appointment. Anyway, I just dropped by to update you on Matthew Most. It seems he’s well known to the authorities in Ghost Town. He’s a bit of a naughty boy, our Matthew. His speciality seems to be stealing from stately homes in the human world. He fences the goods before taking his ill-gotten gains back to Ghost Town. He’s been caught a couple of times and thrown in jail, but it doesn’t seem to deter him for long. As soon as he’s released, he’s back to his old tricks again.”
“I’d hardly call the colonel’s house a stately home, but it’s certainly a large property. And some of the items in there are probably worth quite a bit. Is there anything you can do about it?”
“I’ve had a word with my bosses back in Ghost Town, and they confirmed that there are a couple of warrants out on him already, so I don’t even need to catch him red-handed. I can just ship him back to Ghost Town on the charges that are already outstanding.”
“That’s fantastic. Any idea when you’ll be able to do it?”
“Seeing as I have the afternoon off I may as well get over there now.”
“Thanks, Mad. I owe you.”
“Funny you should say that.”
Oh dear.
“You remember I mentioned my mum wanted you to come over for dinner?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’s tonight. I realise it’s short notice, but—”
“That’s okay.” What else could I say? I did owe her. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s your mum’s cooking like these days?”
I could still remember some of the slop Mad’s mum had offered me when I was a kid. I’d come up with some great excuses to get out of it: I have to get back home to shampoo my hamster, my dad is stuck up a ladder and needs me to help him.
“She still can’t cook to save her life. I wouldn’t touch her stuff with a barge pole. But, she’s got Nails to help her now. He used to work in a kitchen somewhere although he never says exactly where. He makes out it was a hotel, but I suspect it was probably in the nick.”
“Prison?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, but to be fair, he’s not a half bad cook. I’ve eaten a few meals that he’s prepared.”
“And?”
“And, I’m still here to tell the tale.”
“High praise indeed.”
“So, how about it? Seven-thirty at our house?”
“Sure. Why not? I’ll see you then.”
***
Myrtle called to ask if I could get over to Middle Tweaking, so I jumped in the car, and made my way straight to the old watermill.
“Jill, come in.” Myrtle greeted me at the door. “There are a couple of people here I’d like you to meet.”
There were two old ladies sitting in the living room; they looked about the same age as Myrtle, but stranger characters you were unlikely to meet.
“Let me introduce you to two of my oldest friends. This is Celia Hodd.”
Celia was no more than five-feet tall, although her stoop made her look even shorter. She was wearing what looked like men’s boots, and walked with the aid of a stick which had a bulldog’s head for a handle.
“Nice to meet you, Celia.” I offered my hand.
“Call me Hodd. Everyone does.” She had what sounded like a cockney accent, which seemed very out of place in rural Middle Tweaking.
“That’s cos you are odd.” The other woman laughed.
“Shut it, Jobbs!” Celia turned on her.
“Now, ladies.” Myrtle stepped between the two of them. “What will Jill think of you?”
The two women continued to glare at one another.
“This is Constance Jobbs, Jill.”
The second woman stepped forward. She was as tall as the other woman was short. It was difficult not to be distracted by the scar on her chin.
“Any friend of Turtle’s is a friend of mine.” Constance’s grip was vice like. I was struggling to place her accent, but it might have been west country.
“Nice to meet you too, Constance.”
“None of that Constance rubbish. Call me Jobbs. Everyone does.”
“Or Jobbies,” Hodd said.
“Only if they’re tired of living.” Jobbs turned on Hodd.
I know I can be slow on the uptake, but it was only then that it occurred to me: Celia Hodd and Constance Jobbs. Hodd Jobbs. So that’s what Myrtle had meant when I thought she’d said odd jobs.
And odd, they most certainly were. I’d never come across a couple of old girls quite like them before.
Myrtle gestured for me to take a seat.
“Hodd, Jobbs and I go way back. We first met when we were—how should I put this? On opposite sides of the law.”
“We’re reformed characters now, though,” Hodd assured me. “Aren’t we, Jobbs?”
“Most of the time.”
“Jobbs!” Myrtle shouted.
“Sorry. Yes, totally reformed.”
“These two ladies occasionally do odd jobs for me.” Myrtle laughed. “Get it? Hodd, Jobbs?”
“Oh yeah. That’s very—err—good.”
Why did anyone think making fun of people’s names was funny? It was plain childish.
Myrtle continued. “When I came back to settle in Middle Tweaking, I heard that Hodd and Jobbs had fallen on hard times. And, although we’d often been adversaries, we’d become good friends over the years, so I invited them to come and live up here. They live in the old waterworks shed.” She pointed to a building at the far end of her garden which I hadn’t noticed before. “I had it renovated and converted some years back. Rather than pay rent, the ladies help me out with odd jobs from time to time.”
“Help you out?”
“These two ladies have a certain skillset which can be useful in my investigations.”
Skil
lset? Before I could ask what she meant, she continued.
“The other day, Jill, you mentioned you’d like to get a look at the murder scene.”
“That’s right. Do you think there’s any chance that we’ll be able to get in?”
“Let me put it this way. If we were to ask the police, I’m pretty sure the answer would be a resounding ‘no’. But there’s more than one way to—”
Paws over your ears, Winky!
Myrtle continued. “My two friends here will be able to get us inside, I’m sure. Won’t you ladies?”
“No problem, Turtle.” Hodd grinned.
“Piece of cake.” Jobbs agreed.
“Are you talking about breaking in?” I asked.
“Breaking in is rather an emotive expression,” Myrtle said. “Let’s just say they’ll be able to facilitate our entry.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“It’s the only way we’re going to get a chance to take a look around.”
If I’d been working the case alone, I’d have used magic to get inside, but that wasn’t an option. I was more than a little worried at the thought of Hodd and Jobbs breaking in.
“Off you go, you two,” Myrtle said. “We’ll give you five minutes. Will that be long enough?”
“More than enough.” Hodd was already on her way to the door.
“Piece of cake,” Jobbs said.
“Just make sure you’re not seen. Jill and I will follow you over there in five.”
“Consider it done, Turtle,” Hodd said. “Nice to meet you, Jill.”
“You too.”
“They’re rather a strange couple, aren’t they?” I commented, after they’d left.
“Hearts of gold—both of them. In their day, they were responsible for a good proportion of the burglaries in the West End. They saw themselves as sort of Robin Hood characters. Robbing from the rich and giving to the poor.”
“The poor?”
“Themselves. But those days are behind them now, apart from the occasional job for me.”
After five minutes, Myrtle beckoned me to follow her. She led the way through the village, and around the back of the post office. There was no sign of Hodd or Jobbs, but lo and behold, the back door was open. There was no sign that it had been forced, so I could only surmise that the ladies had picked the lock.
“Come on, Jill. Before someone sees us.” Myrtle led the way upstairs to the flat where Madge Hick had lived. “You take the kitchen; that’s where her body was found. I’ll take a look in the bedroom.”
There was no obvious sign that a murder had taken place in that very spot only days before. I had no idea what I was looking for, but felt sure I’d recognise it when I saw it. After a few minutes, Myrtle called to me. “Jill, come and look at this.”
In the drawer of the bedside cabinet was a pile of papers. When I took a closer look, I realised what they were: Lottery slips. Lots of them.
“They go back years,” Myrtle said. “Every week, the same numbers.”
“So Madge was telling the truth when she said she’d bought a ticket every week.”
“It looks like it. Wouldn’t you know the numbers came up the one week she forgot.”
“She could easily have proven she wasn’t cheating because she’d kept all these tickets. I wonder why she didn’t say something?”
“Maybe she felt the others should have taken her at her word, and that she shouldn’t have to prove anything. It’s all very tragic.”
Myrtle moved on to the living room, while I continued to look around the kitchen. Out of the window, I could see the beer garden on the roof of The Old Trout, which was only a few yards away. An hour later, we called it a day. We’d found nothing of any consequence.
***
From Middle Tweaking, I went straight back to my flat. I wasn’t sure what to wear for dinner at Mad’s mother’s house. I suspected that whatever I chose I’d be overdressed. As a kid, I’d always been apprehensive about going to Mad’s house. Her mother had always been a little strange—and yes, I realise that’s rich coming from me. She’d delighted in embarrassing me at every opportunity. Still, I didn’t have to worry about that now we were both adults.
Who was I trying to kid?
The man who answered the door looked out to lunch. He never once made eye contact with me; he was too busy tapping away on his phone.
“Good evening.” I tried to catch his attention.
Tap, tap, tap.
“I’m Jill Gooder.”
Tap, tap, tap.
“Madeline invited me.”
“Come in.” He didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “They’re in the living room.” He pointed the way, and then walked off in the opposite direction—towards the kitchen.
Mad was by herself. “Is that Nails?” I said, in a low voice.
“That’s him. Once seen, never forgotten. No matter how hard I try.”
“He didn’t say much. He was too busy on his phone.”
“Think yourself lucky he wasn’t biting his nails. He never stops.”
The more I heard, the more I was looking forward to dinner.
“Anyway, I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Jill Gooder.”
“What have I done now?”
“I went to the colonel’s house this afternoon.”
“Was there a problem?”
“Only that practically everyone up there was stark naked.”
“Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “I forgot to mention that.”
“You kind of did, didn’t you? I didn’t know where to put my face. The only person who was wearing any clothes was the old butler who let me in. He told me I’d find the owner on the back porch. There were half-a-dozen of them playing volleyball—all stark naked! Then the guy who owns the house got off the lounger, naked as you’ll like, and shook my hand. I almost died of embarrassment.”
“I’m really sorry, Mad.” I said through tears of laughter.
“Yeah, you look it.”
“Did you manage to get things sorted out?”
“I told the owner that I was from Washbridge Better Homes magazine.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“I doubt it. Anyway, he was only too pleased to let me take a look around. I bumped into the colonel while I was there, and he pointed me in the direction of Matthew Most, who was eyeing up the silverware in the dining room. He wasn’t very happy to see me.”
“Did you catch him?”
“Of course I did. He tried to make a run for it, but he was way too slow. He’s back in Ghost Town now. The colonel won’t have any more trouble from Matthew Most—not for a few years, at least.”
“Thanks, Mad. I owe you.”
“You definitely do. Big time.”
“Dinner’s burnt.” Mad’s mother, Delilah, came storming in. “It’s Nails’ fault. I told him to watch that pie, but he was too busy playing on his stupid phone. Sorry about this, Jill. How are you, anyway?”
“Okay, thanks, Mrs Lane.”
“I’ve told you. Call me Deli. Mrs Lane makes me sound ancient. Have you got yourself a fella yet?”
“Mum!” Mad yelled.
“I’m only asking. So, have you, Jill?”
“Yes, I am seeing someone.”
“That’s more than this one is doing.” She gestured to Mad. “She’s never likely to either, not the way she dresses. No fella wants to see a woman dressed in a woollen two-piece. I keep telling her to wear something that makes the most of what she’s got—you know—show a bit of cleavage and a bit of leg.”
“Mother!” Mad’s face was red with embarrassment. “What did I tell you?”
“Jill doesn’t mind, do you, Jill?”
I managed a smile.
“I’ve ordered in some pizza. It should be here in twenty minutes. I’ll go and shave my legs while we’re waiting.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Mad said, once her mother had gone.
“It’s just like the good old days.”
&nb
sp; “I’ve got to get my own place. If I stay here much longer, I might do something I regret.”
It was almost thirty minutes later when a spotty, young guy arrived with the pizza. It was surprisingly good, but I would have enjoyed it even more had it not been for the fact that Nails was picking at his toe nails all through the meal. Every time Delilah yelled at him, he stopped, but only for a few minutes.
“So what’s your fella’s name?” Delilah said, through a mouthful of pizza.
“Jack.” I ducked to avoid a low-flying toe nail.
“You should bring him over to meet us some time.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“When?”
“Soon.” The day after hell freezes over.
Chapter 16
These bean bags were such a stupid idea. I was in Beans—waiting for Jack. He’d called and asked if we could meet up. I’d suggested Coffee Triangle, but he’d reminded me it was drum day, so not exactly conducive to conversation. He’d said we needed to talk, but when I’d pressed him about what in particular, he’d been evasive. I had a horrible feeling this was not going to end well.
I was desperately trying to balance on the stupid bean bag, and drink my coffee at the same time. Whoever had come up with this idea had to have been crazy. When Jack walked in, our eyes met, and I thought I detected the hint of a smile. Maybe things weren’t as bad as I’d thought. Even so, it felt like forever while he got himself a coffee. I just wanted to know what this was all about.
“Maybe this place wasn’t such a good idea,” he said, almost spilling his drink as he got down onto the bean bag next to me.
“What’s up? Is everything okay?” Fingers crossed.
“I thought we needed to clear the air.”
“Look, I’m sorry about—”
“Can I say my piece before you start with the apologies?”
“Yeah, sorry. I mean—err—yeah, go on.”
“Look, Jill. I realise you have a job to do, and I know that from time to time our paths are going to cross, professionally, but I can’t have you involved with cases unless I know about it. If nothing else, it’s embarrassing when I hear from one of my colleagues that my girlfriend is working on a case behind my back.”
