‘If you’re looking for my witch, don’t bother,’ said Queenie from the cat bed by the wood-burning stove.
Mischief, who was lying beside her, raised his head just a little and said, ‘Mine either. I’d say you’re on your own today.’
Floorboards started to creak, and a few moments later my mother peeped a head down the stairs, her hair messy and her cheeks flushed. ‘Oh, I thought I heard someone up and about,’ she said in a sheepish voice.
‘Mutual Magic opens soon,’ I said. ‘We’d better get a wriggle on if we want to question Mr Montrose.’
A voice drifted out from a room upstairs. ‘Oh, Bea! Don’t be long, beautiful. I miss you already.’
I felt like my ears were bleeding. That was my father’s voice. My mother giggled and said, ‘Won’t be a minute, sweetheart.’
‘Wait.’ I pushed my embarrassment aside so I could look her in the eye. ‘What do you mean you won’t be a minute? We need to get to the bank. And weren’t you supposed to be meeting with Finn straight afterwards to sign off on the contract for the new combined police force? Agatha’s supposed to be releasing the details as part of her election campaign tomorrow!’
My mother kept looking back up the stairs, dancing from foot to foot like an impatient teenager. ‘I’ll get to it. I promise. Tell Finn I’ll um ... I’ll call him. I’ve just got to go and do ... something. See you later!’ She turned and ran up the stairs, giggling and slamming her bedroom door behind her.
I covered my ears, and ran out of the house without breakfast.
6. Mutual Magic
By the time I met Finn in front of Mutual Magic Bank, I was so disturbed about my parents that I’d managed to put all thoughts of Max to the back of my mind. Well, most of them. Okay, so I was still thinking far too much about how gorgeous he’d looked that morning.
‘I got your text,’ Finn said, rubbing his hands together. ‘About Christine’s vision. And Melissa’s. I know it’s a horrible way for things to come about, what with poor Nancy being murdered. But this could be the break we’ve been waiting for, Wanda. Am I being evil incarnate in saying that?’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I’ve kind of been thinking the same, so hey – at least we’ll go to hell together.’
‘Gretel’s going through the lists Will Berry sent you right now,’ he went on. ‘She’s doling out interview duty, and she’s going to meet us at your place for lunch when we’ve finished here. But what’s with the change of plans? Weren’t you and your mam supposed to do this interview?’
‘Don’t get me started. Melissa’s been going on about the blue blood moon,’ I told him. ‘She thinks it’s why everyone’s acting so weird. And speaking of weird, has my mam even approved the new uniforms with you yet?’
He looked away. ‘Not yet. But it’s not a big deal. All we need is a signature. She promised she’d meet me as soon as she can. She said your dad has another appointment with Florence at Night and Gale this morning.’
I scrunched up my face. I knew perfectly well that Florence, a healer at Night and Gale, was no longer helping my father retrieve his memories. Melissa was working with him instead. She was using the dark powers granted to her by her vampire ancestry in order to break through any other hypnosis that may have been used upon him. But seeing as she was reluctant to let those powers be known to the world at large, I kept my mouth shut. ‘Hey, how did the rest of your night go, anyway? Because mine brought strange to whole new levels. My parents were far too enthusiastic about each other. Even Ronnie was getting in on the whole romance vibe. I mean ... Ronnie?’
Finn shrugged, an odd smile on his face. ‘Yeah, well, this time of year will do that to us supernatural folks. I’d say that spring is definitely in the air.’
I looked around. ‘Is it?’ There was a little bit of frost on the ground, and a slight wind was blowing our way. There was a peep of sun somewhere up there, but I would have to say that this day was neither here nor there, as far as the weather went. I had no idea which goddess was on the move. ‘Why have you got that furtive little smile on your face? I didn’t think you were into this whole Imbolc thing.’
His fair skin grew flushed. ‘Well, I wasn’t. But Wanda, something happened last night. A weredog came to my house. A weredog that I’m pretty sure was Lassie. That has to mean something, right? Maybe she hasn’t realised it yet, but she might be getting over Connor. She might be ready to ... y’know ... maybe?’
I couldn’t help but join in with his hopeful smile. He’d been crazy about Lassie from the moment he met her, but she was still mourning her boyfriend Connor, one of the many witches murdered by Will’s aunt and her vampire lover. ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘She definitely seemed to be thawing in Three Witches Brew last night. But Finn, forget about Lassie for a second. Promise me you’ll pin my mother down and get her to sign off on the new policing contract. She’s the leader of our coven. Legally, none of this can go ahead without her say so.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ he said. ‘But she’s not the flaky sort, your mother. She’ll come through. So shall we go in?’
I took a deep breath, pushing all except the investigation from my mind. ‘Let’s do this thing.’
≈
I recognised the inside of the bank from the footage Gretel had recorded of the place. She’d been here numerous times, trying to find out what Barry Plimpton was doing when he met with the manager behind closed doors. We believed he was ferrying money between the ex-Minister and the Dark Team, but we never saw Barry with any money.
We were met by a young security guard the moment we walked through the doors. He was a werewolf, no doubt, and judging by the rings beneath his eyes, I’d say that he hadn’t long returned from his adventures of the previous night.
‘I’m sorry, folks,’ he said. ‘But the bank is closed for the day. We’ve suffered a bereavement, you see.’
Finn cocked an eyebrow. ‘The door was open, and I didn’t see a sign.’
The security guard produced a small, laminated sign, bearing the words, ‘Closed for Bereavement.’
‘The Manager only decided a moment ago,’ he said. ‘I was just about to put it up and lock the doors. You’ll find our online services quite satisfactory for any transactions you need to make.’ There was a slight growl behind each word, and I could see his teeth begin to sharpen.
‘Yeah, I don’t think so,’ said Finn, drumming his truncheon against his hand in a slow, steady rhythm. ‘Not seeing as we’re here to talk to Mr Montrose.’
The werewolf bared his teeth. Yup, they were definitely getting a bit on the pointy side. ‘Afraid I can’t let you do that. You folks need to leave. Like I told you, we’re suffering a bereavement here at Mutual Magic. And grief can do awful funny things to people. It can make them act out in all sorts of ways.’
Finn didn’t seem remotely put out by the threat. Instead he smiled, and took a step closer to the werewolf. ‘Not sure you know what it means to be the Peacemaker Captain,’ he said. ‘It means I can arrest anybody, at any time, for any perceived threat. It means I can go where I like, when I like. And right now I want to go into that manager’s office just a few feet behind you, and speak to Mr Montrose.’
Well, I would be lying if I told you I was surprised when the werewolf took a step back. Finn had a somewhat straightforward manner when it came to dealing with people. Some called him abrupt. Most called him a cocky so and so (and most would include me). Either way, his confidence seemed to get things done.
The door of the office was yanked open, and the man from Christine’s vision looked out at us, a false smile pasted on his face. ‘It’s quite all right, Blane,’ he said to his security guard. ‘I’m only too happy to speak with the Peacemaker and the Wayfair. We all want to get to the bottom of poor Nancy’s murder, after all.’
He held the door wide, and ushered Finn and me inside. In Christine’s scrying bowl, I could see that the furniture was expensive. Now that I was here, I could see the thickness of the gleaming wood, the shine
of his many golden executive toys. I could smell the leather inlay on his desk, and the cushioning of his chair. The room smelled like money. No, scratch that – the room smelled like other people’s money. I wondered just how happy I would be, as a customer of Mutual Magic, to see how much of my cash Heber Montrose was spending on himself.
He took a seat at his desk, and Finn and I seated ourselves across from him. On a shelf behind him there was a plate, covered over. I sniffed.
‘Fried chicken?’
Heber let out an awkward little laugh and patted his generous stomach. ‘I know what you’re thinking. The last thing I need is fried chicken with a bulge like this to get rid of.’
‘Actually, that’s not what I was thinking,’ I corrected him. ‘I was thinking that it’s a bit early for lunch.’
‘Ah.’ His eyes went to the clock on his desk. It was nine thirty, according to the hands. ‘I suppose it is. I tend to eat when I’m emotional. And after what happened last night, I’m more than a little upset. Nancy was a model employee. She’ll be greatly missed. That’s why I decided to close up today. Out of respect for her.’
Finn cocked an eyebrow. ‘Out of respect, huh? And here was me thinking it might be out of guilt.’
Mr Montrose’s breath came quickly, and unfortunately it was coming my way. No wonder Nancy had recoiled when she argued with the man. If it was fried chicken that he was eating for breakfast, then it was old and rancid fried chicken.
‘Guilt!’ he exclaimed, his lower lip wobbling. ‘What would I have to feel guilty about? I wasn’t even at Three Witches Brew last night. I celebrated Imbolc at Swanks, with some very important clients. The staff there will verify my alibi.’
‘Alibi? Now why would you need an alibi?’ Finn queried with a cold smile. ‘When I said you must be feeling guilty, I was referring to the stand-up row you had with Nancy, here in this very office. You know – the one where you accused her of listening at keyholes.’ Finn looked pointedly at the door. ‘And wouldn’t you know it? Nancy was right. Not a keyhole in sight.’
Heber Montrose made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and his eyes darted over every surface of his office.
‘I take it you’re looking for signs of recording devices?’ I gave him a sweet smile. ‘Neither the Wayfairs nor the Peacemakers have any of those in here. Although only you’d be able to tell us if you have any enemies who might have reason to spy. No.’ I sat forward, knocking the little golden balls on one of his toys against each other. ‘We use old-school methods to get our information. Scrying, to be precise.’
‘Scrying,’ he said nervously. ‘But ... that’s an imprecise art, surely. You must have made a mistake. Nancy and I had a perfectly amicable working relationship.’
Finn kicked his feet up on the desk and swung his truncheon in one hand. ‘Visions of the future are uncertain, of course. But visions caught in the present moment, or visions recorded from the past – those are one hundred percent precise. And whilst I wouldn’t expect a civilian to be up on the legalities of such things, they are, I assure you, admissible as evidence in Wyrd Court criminal proceedings.’
‘But who could ...’ He readjusted his tie, breaking off midsentence.
‘Who could be skilled enough at scrying to acquire a vision of the past?’ I helpfully finished for him. ‘Good question, Mr Montrose. Good question indeed. And the answer would be that a Wayfair would be skilled enough. We don’t hire any old riff raff, you know. And neither do you, from what I can tell. Nancy Berry came from one hell of a prestigious coven. The same coven that happens to own many shares in Mutual Magic. That’s why Finn and I find it so odd that you would have a flaming row with her, of all people.’
‘We do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We find it very odd. I know I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of a Berry. But then, maybe you have much more powerful friends than even the Berrys. The Montrose coven is a small one though, isn’t it? You manage financial institutions here and in the UK. One or two in mainland Europe. But you certainly don’t have the numbers that a coven like the Berrys can boast. I wonder, are you affiliated with someone bigger than yourselves?’
Heber was either blinking very slowly, or squeezing his eyes shut, I wasn’t quite sure which. After a few seconds of looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here, he said, ‘No. The Montroses do not swear fealty to anything other than the humble gold round. And as for why I was arguing with Nancy, well, to be honest it happened so long ago that I’d forgotten all about it. I get fits of ... well, what I suppose you’d call paranoia from time to time. It can be stressful, knowing that you have billions in golden rounds in a safe, you see. You have to be so careful with your staff. Sometimes I get a little over-zealous, perhaps. But I can assure you, Nancy and I had made up not five minutes after our little tiff. Like you say, the Berrys are a powerful coven. I would never disrespect one of their members. Well – never without apologising profusely. And I did apologise to Nancy. Believe me.’
Finn picked up a photograph. It showed Mr Montrose, a wand in his hand, standing with his foot on the head of a dead wolf. ‘Hunting fan, are we?’ Finn handed the picture to me.
‘Well, we all have our hobbies,’ said Mr Montrose. ‘Of course it’s far less bloodthirsty, the way we witches hunt. A simple death spell, and the poor beast is put out of its misery.’
‘Looks a bit like a werewolf,’ I said. ‘It’s definitely large enough.’
‘Hah! You have quite the imagination. As though a fine, upstanding citizen like myself would be involved in the illegal hunting of a supernatural being. It was a plain old wolf, Miss Wayfair.’
‘Oh? I thought they’d been killed out centuries ago in Ireland.’
Two of his chins began to wobble. The others started to sweat. ‘Ireland? No, no, not Ireland. That picture was taken in America.’
I peered closer at the photo. The trees all looked so familiar to me, but I guess one forest might well look the same as another, even if it was on a different continent. ‘Of course.’ I placed the photo back on his desk. ‘My mistake. So, Mr Montrose, I’ll need you to write down a list of people who were with you in Swanks last night, so we can double check your alibi.’
‘Of course, of course.’ He pulled a notebook from his desk and began to scribble furiously. ‘Here it is,’ he said as he handed it to me. ‘These are all dear friends and acquaintances. They shall all corroborate me. As will the staff at Swanks.’
‘I have no doubt that they will.’ Finn smiled and stood up. ‘But it doesn’t much matter, either way. We’ll have our scrying witch search for visions of last night’s festivities at Swanks, as well. People lie, but the scrying bowl always tells the truth.’
7. Bowie
By the time we arrived at the house I shared with Max, both Finn and I had received reports from a dozen other interviews that took place that morning. Nancy’s friends and family had all said much the same. She was a lovely girl, outgoing, friendly and hardworking. There wasn’t anything that gave a clue as to why she was killed.
Most of the people at the College Board had airtight alibis. There were two people on the list, though, who had been at Three Witches Brew the night before – Patrick and Angela Plimpton. Although they’d now been interviewed twice, I thought I might delve a little bit deeper as soon as I could. I wasn’t sure about Will’s theory – he seemed far too eager to get me to look at the people on the College Board. But I owed it to Nancy to look at this from every angle.
Neither Finn nor I were hungry just yet, so we went straight to my bedroom, where I opened the wardrobe door and said, ‘Reveal the room within the room.’
As soon as our secret Operation Long Leash office appeared, Finn and I went straight to our desks. There was a little problem, though, in the form of Finn’s familiar. She was a tortoiseshell cat called Jewel, and she was currently asleep on my chair.
‘How did you get in here?’ I asked as I picked her up and handed her to Finn.
She peeled an eye open. ‘The
meeting is today, isn’t it?’
‘Well, yeah, but ... never mind.’ I shook my head. That cat of Finn’s had some magical way of travelling, on par with what a witch could do. She could get in anywhere, which was precisely why we had taken her on as part of Operation Long Leash.
I had been eager to get more people working with us, but Finn wanted to hold off. For those of you who haven’t been following my misadventures so far, I guess now would be a good time to fill you in on Operation Long Leash.
Finn, Gretel and I were secretly tracking anyone who worked with the former Minister. So far, we had gathered quite a bit of dirt on some of her ex-staff members, but we were holding off on taking action just yet. If we arrested anyone now, we’d be putting them away for relatively minor crimes – like the woman who had been head of her security team at Facility B, where my father had been imprisoned. Just the week before, we caught her shoplifting at Pointer Brothers, the wand shop on Warren Lane. Instead of arresting her, we had recorded the offence and replaced the stolen wand before its absence was noticed.
We wanted them all to feel safe, like they were untouchable, until we had the evidence we were really after. Evidence that would let us know who had helped the ex-Minister kidnap my father, and proof that would lead us to the people she used to carry out assassinations – basically, we wouldn’t be happy until we found the Dark Team.
Finn thought it was best to keep it low key. The Dark Team were probably aware of everything that the Wayfairs and the Peacemakers were up to, but we believed they had no idea about Operation Long Leash. I had been angling to get more people involved. Max, for instance. If I could just admit to him that I was spying on Gabriel’s father, it would be a creepy man sized load off my mind. But Finn believed that the less people who knew, the better. He also believed that our friends and families were safer, not knowing just how close we were getting to the Dark Team.
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