All Was Revealed

by Adele Abbott

  I followed her into the outer office. “Hello, Zac.”

  “Hi, Jill. Needless to say I’m here because of Gordon again. He insists that you’re keeping a cat in the office. He reckons he has a photo of it.” He sighed. “Waving flags.”

  “A cat waving flags?”

  “That’s what he says.”

  “Do you think maybe he has a drink problem?”

  Just then, Gordon came charging into the office.

  “I heard that. No, I don’t have a drink problem, but what I do have is photographic evidence. What can’t speak, can’t lie.” He took out his phone. “Look, Zac, see?” He brought up the most recent photograph.

  “Gordon,” Zac said. “Is this meant to be the photograph?”

  “Yes! That’s the one.” Gordon didn’t even bother to look at the screen. He was too busy gloating.

  “But that’s a photograph of Jill’s receptionist. And, from what I can see, she’s holding knitting needles in her hands. There’s no sign of any flags. Or cats.”

  “That’s not the photograph,” Gordon insisted. “The photograph I had was of a cat waving flags.”

  “Where is it, then?”

  “I don’t know. It’s disappeared.” He turned to me. “You’ve done it again, Gooder. You’ve sabotaged me! It was a cat! I saw it with my own eyes! I’m not crazy!”

  “Hmm? The jury’s still out on that one.” I grinned.

  “I—err—you—err—I’ll get you, Gooder.” With that, he stormed out of my office.

  “Once again, Jill.” Zac looked and sounded exasperated. “I can only apologise.”

  ***

  After some persuasion, I’d managed to get Stuart Steele’s ex-girlfriend to agree to talk to me. Her name was Brie Lant. She answered the door dressed as though she was just on her way to a wedding or a posh restaurant, but I had a suspicion that she always dressed to impress. Her makeup was immaculate. She obviously spent a fortune at the hairdresser. Everything about her screamed money, and yet the apartment she lived in was quite a modest one, which didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of her image.

  “Hi, I’m Jill Gooder, I called earlier?”

  “Oh yah. Do come in.”

  Oh yah? Oh boy!

  “You do realise I’m no longer seeing Stuart?”

  “Yes, so I understand, but I still think you may be able to help. I’m investigating the murder of Starr Fish. You’ve probably heard about it in the news.”

  “Wasn’t she in one of those ghastly reality TV shows?”

  “Yes. She was found dead in Bar Fish, which as you probably know is Stuart’s Steele’s new venture.”

  “And what an unmitigated disaster that’s been.” She moved towards the glass-fronted cabinet. “I’m having a glass of wine. Would you care for one?”

  “Not for me thanks.”

  She poured herself a large glass of rose, and took much more than a sip.

  “How do you mean, disaster?”

  “I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. Who wants to sit in a bar surrounded by fish? The riff raff, that’s all. And those kind of people don’t have money to spend. Not real money.”

  “Those kind of people?”

  “You know the kind. Dirty finger nails and no dress sense.”

  “You weren’t keen on the idea, then?”

  “There are far better ways to spend money. He’d promised to move me into a new apartment, and to buy me a new car, but once he started on that crazy venture, that all went out of the window.”

  “Had you and he been seeing each other for long?”

  “Oh, yah—ages. At least two months.”

  “What attracted you to him?”

  “He was very generous. At first.”

  “And good looking?”

  “I suppose so.”

  I was beginning to wonder if she’d even be able to pick him out in a line-up. Probably, provided he had his wallet in his hand.

  “Why did you split up?”

  “Because of the stupid Bar Fish venture, why do you think? We’d probably still be together if it wasn’t for that.”

  “So, you’re saying you split up because of the money he was ploughing into Bar Fish?”

  “He’d promised me an apartment, and a car.”

  “Of course.”

  “I told him, it was either Bar Fish or me.”

  “I’m guessing he chose Bar Fish.”

  “Yah, and he’s welcome to it.”

  Brie Lant was a nasty piece of work; an unapologetic gold digger, but she had at least provided me with some useful information. According to Brie, Stuart had got in way too deep—that seemed to correspond with what the bar manager had told me, and might explain Stuart’s personality change.

  Maybe I’d been looking at this case from the wrong angle altogether?

  I had a hunch.

  “Hello. Is that BeeLine motors?”

  “That’s us, what can I do you for?”

  “My name is Brie Lant. You collected my boyfriend’s car for repair the other day.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I haven’t even told you his name yet.”

  “You don’t need to. We don’t repair cars. We repossess them.”

  “Repossess?”

  “As in when someone doesn’t keep up their payments.”

  “I think there must be a mistake.”

  “There always is.”

  “What if I was to pay the money owed?”

  “You have ten days from the day the car is repossessed. Plus, there’s our charges on top to pay.”

  “Sure. Can you tell me how much that will be?” I gave him Stuart’s name and address.

  “Three thousand, two hundred and eighty-five pounds.”

  “Is a credit card okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Will it be possible to see the car first. Just to make sure it’s not damaged in any way?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I look inside it?”

  “Yes, someone will show you, but we can’t let you have the keys.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we don’t want people driving off before they’ve paid.”

  “Of course. Okay, I’ll come right over.”

  BeeLine Motors was essentially a massive car pound. There were cars of every type, size and colour as far as the eye could see. At the front of the pound was a small office where I had to wait in line. The man behind the counter looked terminally bored when I passed him Stuart Steele’s details.

  “I’m his girlfriend.”

  “You could be his long lost cousin for all I care. Provided you’ve got the money.”

  “When I called earlier, you said I could see the car before I made the payment.”

  “Ten minutes only.”

  He pressed a buzzer, and moments later, a young man with a nose piercing, appeared from the back.

  “Chops, take this lady down to G327.”

  I followed the young man, down the lines of cars.

  “Chops? Is that really your name?”

  “Nah. It’s just what Bill calls me. He thinks it’s funny.”

  “What is your name?”

  “David.”

  “David? I don’t get it.”

  “David Lamb.”

  “Lamb?” I laughed. “Lamb chops?”

  He shot me a look.

  “Sorry. Not funny.”

  “Is this your car, love?”

  “No, it’s my boyfriend’s.”

  “You only get ten minutes.”

  “That’s fine.”

  In fact, it took me less than a minute. As soon as I checked the boot, I had my answer.

  “You have to go back to the office to pay,” Chops said.

  “Nah. I don’t think I’ll bother. You can keep it.”

  Chapter 21

  According to the bar manager at Bar Fish, Stuart Steele was due home late that evening, so I made sure I was at his house before he arrived. It was easy to
gain access with a combination of the ‘power’ and ‘take it back’ spells. He would have no idea I’d forced the lock.

  The house was rather creepy. It felt like there were hundreds of eyes on me—which of course there were. Tropical fish of all shapes, sizes and colours stared out from the tanks on the walls, and under the floor. I headed for the living room where I took a sample of the water from the large open-topped tank.

  Now, all I had to do was wait.

  It was almost a quarter-past-ten when a taxi pulled up outside. Stuart paid the driver, and moments later, walked into the living room. When he spotted me, he dropped his briefcase.

  “Jill? What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

  “Never mind that, I have a question for you.”

  “What?”

  “Why did you kill Starr Fish?”

  “Me?” He laughed or at least tried to. It was hardly convincing. “Kill her? Don’t be ridiculous. I was the one who asked you to find out who murdered her.”

  “And that’s precisely what I’ve done, but we both know the real reason you hired me, don’t we? You thought you’d be able to find out how the police investigation was going through my connection with Jack.”

  “This is crazy. Why would I kill her? I didn’t even know the woman.”

  “Really? Didn’t you book her to do a personal appearance at Bar Fish?”

  “No. That’s rubbish.”

  “I don’t think so. Starr was handling her own bookings, and kept surprisingly good records.” I lied.

  “Okay. I did book her, but like I said, it didn’t work out.”

  “It didn’t work out because you couldn’t pay her. She was your last hope, wasn’t she?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The money had run out, and the bank was threatening to foreclose. You needed a miracle. You thought having Starr Fish in your bar would generate enough publicity to give the business a boost to get you through. She was the biggest thing that’s happened in Washbridge forever. My guess is that when your cheque bounced, she came around here to confront you.”

  “She’s never been here.”

  “Why did you kill her, Stuart? Did she laugh in your face when you tried to persuade her to wait for her money? Did she tell you to shove your tropical fish where the sun doesn’t shine?”

  “This is all nonsense.”

  “Your last hope had gone, and you saw red. You probably didn’t intend to kill her. But then you realised that, even dead, she could still provide the publicity you needed. So you took her body to Bar Fish, put her in the tank and tipped off Pullman. You knew he’d bite because he’d taken pictures of Starr Fish before.”

  “I’ve told you, she was never here. She drowned at Bar Fish. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You’re lying. She wasn’t drowned at Bar Fish. The water in her lungs doesn’t match the water in the tanks there, but I’m guessing it will match the water in the tanks here.” I held up the test tube, which contained the sample I’d taken earlier. “Would you like a small wager? And there are traces of Starr in your repossessed car. The boot is still damp.”

  He slumped into the chair, and I knew I’d got him.

  “I didn’t mean to drown her. She just wouldn’t listen to reason. She’d waited until the last minute to pull out; there wasn’t time to get anyone else. I told her I’d make sure she was paid, but she wanted the money upfront. I didn’t have it. She told me to stuff it, and I lost it. It’s all a blur. I thought if I scared her, she’d agree to do it, but then she stopped breathing.”

  “And, instead of doing the decent thing—calling the police—you were still only thinking about yourself. Starr Fish could be even bigger news now she’d been murdered.”

  “I needed the publicity. I was going to lose everything!”

  “You’re going to get plenty of publicity now, Stuart, but I’m not sure it’s going to do you or Bar Fish any good.”

  I called Jack.

  ***

  An hour later, Stuart Steele had been taken away—under arrest for the murder of Starr Fish. Jack was giving me a lift back to my car which I’d parked a few streets away.

  “I suppose I’d be wasting my breath telling you that you shouldn’t have confronted him alone?” Jack was decidedly unhappy.

  “I was never in any danger.”

  “He’d already murdered one woman in that house.”

  “I can handle myself, Jack. You know that.”

  He went silent on me, but I decided it was probably best to leave it rather than cause a big row. When he pulled up behind my car, I reached for the door handle.

  “Jill wait! We need to talk.”

  Oh bum.

  Call me pessimistic, but that sounded ominous. Was he planning to dump me? I couldn’t blame him if he did. Our relationship had been cursed right from the start. Perhaps it really was cursed. Maybe Grandma had cast a spell on us; I wouldn’t put it past her. Perhaps she didn’t like the idea of me going out with a human.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you before I confronted him,” I said.

  “This isn’t about that.”

  “What then?”

  “There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  Oh dear. Here comes the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech.

  “Look, it’s probably best if I get straight to the point.”

  Here it comes. I knew it.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going wrong between us.”

  Let me guess. It’s you, not me.

  “It’s not us. It’s our circumstances.”

  Was that a variation on the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech? I waited for him to continue.

  “I’m not expressing myself very well. What I’m trying to say is I think a lot of the problem stems from the fact that we barely see one another.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Anyway, I guess what I’m getting at is—err—I think our relationship might have a better chance if we spent more time together. If you were to move into my place.”

  I was stunned. More than stunned. It had never occurred to me for a moment that he was going to suggest that. “You mean live together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Does the idea appal you?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting it.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know, but not this. It’s a big step.”

  “I realise that. I’m not suggesting you give up your flat. We could see how things go. If it doesn’t work out, you could just move back. But if things do work out, we can take it from there. What do you say?”

  “I’m going to need some time to think about it. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. Take as long as you like, but I’m worried if we carry on as we are at present that we may end up breaking up altogether.”

  “I know. You’re right. I’ll let you have my decision as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. Goodnight, then.”

  I was still stunned as I watched him drive away. Jack was right—our so-called relationship was headed nowhere fast, but I’d still been blindsided by his suggestion that we live together. Of course, he had no idea what my main reservations were. How could he? The question I had to ask myself was could I live a lie every day?

  ***

  I managed virtually no sleep that night. Did I want to move in with Jack? That was easy—of course I did. But was it fair on him? He’d never be able to know the real me. I’d never be able to tell him that I was a witch. It would all have been so much easier if I’d never found out.

  I was pretty much useless at work, although I did manage to categorise every paper clip and rubber band in the office. Even Winky asked if I was feeling okay.

  I needed to talk to someone, and although I couldn’t mention the whole ‘witch’ thing, I wanted that someone to be Kathy. Growing up, we’d al
ways confided in one another. Despite our differences, I still valued her opinion. I called and arranged to go over after she’d finished at Ever.

  “Auntie Jill, Auntie Jill, come and see the beanies.” Lizzie collared me as soon as I walked in the door.

  “I need to talk to your mummy.”

  Ever since Kathy and Lizzie had abducted my beanies, I dreaded seeing them. The two of them had insisted on cutting several of them in half, and then joining the two halves together to make Frankensteinesque monsters. It tore me apart to see it.

  “Please, Auntie Jill. I want you to see this.” She grabbed my hand, and led me to her bedroom.

  “Why are all the beanies hanging by their necks from the ceiling, Lizzie?”

  “Before we did this, I couldn’t find the one I wanted because they were all over the floor.”

  “Maybe if you’d catalogued and categorized them as I suggested, there wouldn’t have been a problem.”

  “That’s boring. This is much better. It was Mummy’s idea.”

  Why didn’t that surprise me?

  “Mummy said we could have a line across the room, and then hang the beanies from it. It’s great, isn’t it, Auntie Jill?”

  “Do you think the beanies enjoy hanging by their necks?”

  “Yes, they love it.”

  “What happens when you want to play with one of them?”

  “If I stand on my footstool, I can take their head out of the loop.”

  Noose, more like.

  “Look, I’ll show you.” She stepped onto the footstool, reached up, and took my favourite beanie bear out of its noose. The poor thing must have been hanging there for ages. It was a travesty.

  “Where’s all of your Lego gone?” I’d grown accustomed to having to step over the little bricks whenever I visited Kathy’s, but today there were none to be seen.

  “I like virtual building now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll show you on my tablet.”

  “You’ve got a tablet?”

  “Yes, Mummy bought one each for Mikey and me. Look!” Her tiny fingers skipped back and forth across the screen. “This is the app.” On screen, there were lots of little building blocks, similar to the ones she used to play with in real life. “This is how I build.” She put her finger on the virtual blocks, and began to build a wall. Then she picked up a window, and slid it into the wall she’d just created. “See how easy it is, Auntie Jill? Do you want to have a go?”