A Witch for Sleuth (A Modern Cozy Mystery with the Witches of Springsville)

by Dani Corlee

  "Hello?” She answered hesitantly. “Ms. Norwood?"

  She recognized Deputy Maguire’s voice. "Good morning, Deputy. Is there any news?" She asked, her knees starting to shake.

  "Call me Randy," he replied." “I just wanted to know how you are doing. A stay in the cell, although yours was short, can scare someone a lot."

  "I've been better!" She tried to joke, feeling a bit more calm. At least he hadn't called to tell her she had to go back to jail!

  A sudden thought whirred in Mabel’s head. She realized that maybe her powers could also help him. Although when she was too involved her already fragile superhuman abilities weakened, she could always count on having more than other people. At least, it was clear that the deputy believed in her innocence. And it seemed that, as far as the police were concerned, he was the only one.

  "Deputy Maguire, I mean, Randy, could I participate in the investigation? I mean, can I help you discover some clues, check around and see if I can learn something useful?"

  The deputy remained silent, considering the request. In fact, help from someone who wasn't biased could come in handy. The cops at the station were too eager to please the Sheriff to be able to see beyond their own noses and their help, up until now, had been utterly useless.

  "In fact, I think it’s an excellent idea. You definitely see things from another point of view which will help me. Unofficially, that is. Obviously the Sheriff would not appreciate my conducting the investigation with the assistance of the prime suspect."

  "Of course, I understand..."

  "Let’s do this, we’ll meet by chance at the hotel. I want to question again the concierge and investigate further the movements of Mr. Hopkins from the moment he arrived in town and hopefully also talk again with your cousins. Say, in half an hour, does that work for you?"

  "That’s fine. Just time to close the shop and I’ll be there."

  Mabel said goodbye to the deputy and tried quickly to reset the color of fabric and finish the shape. The customer wouldn’t come until late afternoon for the first fitting, and since she had no other appointments, she had time to follow the investigation up close. The idea excited her, and she felt a bit like Miss Marple, but then she returned to earth remembering that it wasn't a game and that her future was at stake.

  She closed the shop and walked into the street. Her heart began to beat fast, and she had to lean on the display window to catch her breath. She slowly closed her eyes and opened them just as slowly. Her palms were sweaty, and she realized she had left marks on the window. She breathed slowly and tightened her jaw. Since when this story had been going on, she couldn't say.

  Lucille?

  Hi! Everything OK?

  Fine thanks. Or rather, I don't know... I am going to the Plaza Hotel to meet with the deputy.

  How come?

  We decided to do some investigating together. You know, he says that at the station they are all biased, and I offer a different point of view.

  Well, it seems to me just an excuse to see you...

  What are you saying? He just wants to resolve the matter. I don’t deny that it’s a work priority for him, but it seems that it is also an important issue for him because he believes I'm innocent and, from something that he said, I think he isn’t too crazy about the Sheriff. And in that I agree with him. The man seems really dumb.

  Where are you now?

  I'm in front of my shop. I'm on my way to the hotel. The deputy also wants to speak with Pam and Prom; you know my cousins who live out of town.

  Yes, yes, of course. I know who they are. Who could forget those two!

  Right. Thank goodness they don't have magic powers and have never had any inkling that I have. I shudder to think what they could come up with if they were witches too!

  I'm sure we’ll find a solution to make them harmless. Any chance you want me to go with you?

  No, why? It’s not far. You’ve been very close to me lately, but I don't need to be accompanied everywhere.

  Fine. Lucille’s tone of voice was a bit skeptical. Remember that you can call me if you need me.

  Now I’d better go. See you soon!

  Bye!

  Mabel breathed deeply and walked slowly toward the hotel, keeping as close as possible to the walls of buildings. She approached the first stop light hesitantly and looked at the crossing; she held her breath while her heart started galloping again. Next to her a lady with a big shopping bag walked fast, and Mabel tried to stay near her. She quickly wiped the perspiration from her forehead and finally arrived at the opposite sidewalk. She tried to hasten her step and focus only on breathing. She managed to go through another crossing and then another without significant problems and soon arrived at the hotel. The deputy was already there, speaking with the doorman.

  He saw her out of the corner of his eye and turned with a broad smile, beckoning her to come closer.

  Heartened by the kind expression, she met him as he was leaving the doorman.

  "He said that the other night Mr. Hopkins exited the hotel and called a taxi. He says he had a briefcase that he noticed because, at that time of night, one doesn’t normally have business meetings and so it seemed strange to him."

  Mabel nodded. "Now what should we do?"

  "We’ll speak with the staff." The deputy went quickly to the concierge and came right back to Mabel. "Good news. A floor maid reported an argument between him and the twins, who arrived here on the same day. While I was waiting for you, I saw the twins coming in. I’m going to find them, and you go talk to the maid unofficially. I already warned the concierge who told me that she is on the second floor now."

  They headed towards the elevator and got on together. Mabel got off on the second floor, and the deputy went to the twin’s floor. The hotel was large and luxurious, and Mabel was so focused on her new task that she navigated the halls almost without even thinking. She found the maid and began talking with her.

  She was a young girl, who seemed willing to talk as it was a distraction from the boredom of her work, but from her chatter, Mabel didn’t learn much except the fact that the discussion, which wasn’t that heated, between the twins and Mr. Hopkins, had taken place in the hallway waiting for the elevator, the day of the reading of the will. It was in the late afternoon when the three were probably going to dinner, but the maid couldn't say if the discussion continued in the elevator, or if the three had dinner together or not, in or outside the hotel. She also said that on another occasion she had heard Mr. Hopkins speaking on the phone, in an unpleasant tone, saying he needed to check some of “Glenda’s” papers and she recalled that when he hung up he had muttered "stupid old butler" and that’s what had struck her.

  Mabel thanked her, mentally noting the fact that she and the deputy should check the details of the dinner and hear what the butler had to say about the matter.

  Feeling that the conversation had not been in vain, she went with light heart toward the elevator and went down to the lobby where she had an appointment with the deputy. He will be pleased with me. She thought, smiling to herself, then realizing immediately that the reason for what she was doing was certainly not to please that man. But how did you imagine such a thing?

  When she arrived, the deputy was already in the lobby still talking with the twins. "Dear Cousin!" exclaimed Prom with a fake smile, while Pam hugged and kissed her with the warmth of a cadaver.

  She tried to wriggle free from the hold and smiled with difficulty, but Pam took her arm and led her away from the two men. "So how are you doing now that you're super-rich?" She asked her with a strained smile.

  "I wouldn’t know," said Mabel, always trying to extricate herself from her cousin who was at least a head taller and towered over her.

  "I heard you had a bad day yesterday... but it seems the good deputy has taken heart in your cause, right? " And she gave her a shove on the shoulder that nearly knocked her down.

  Mabel didn’t answer her cousin who took the opportunity to continue. "You know
, I'm afraid that things are getting really bad for you. Obviously if no one saw you, you don't have an alibi, and you are the primary suspect. Mmm... Obviously I'm your cousin, and I care about you."

  Mabel looked at her puzzled, wondering where she was going with this. "Who says I don't have an alibi?"

  "Oh well," pushing her hair back, "you know, news travels fast. No matter, Prom cares about you too. You know, I was just saying, we really need to go visit our dear cousin Mabel. It’s a shame that instead we have to see each other again in this nasty situation." She snickered. "If I think about how much time we spent together as children!"

  "I really don't remember." Mabel looked toward the deputy, who was still talking to Prom, trying to wriggle free from Pam’s firm hold.

  "Well, anyway, we should help each other as cousins, don't you think?"

  "What do you mean?" She asked in a rhetorical way because by now it was clear that her cousin was just trying to get something out of her.

  "We are of the same blood, and we should help each other," she whispered in her ear.

  Mabel nodded doubtfully.

  "I was thinking about what you will do with the company? On the other hand, you can't handle it alone. And aren’t you already a seamstress? Between sewing and cutting and ironing you won’t have much time."

  "Actually, I'm a designer, and I have a shop that is doing quite well," Mabel said, ticked off.

  "Exactly... There are things I could tell about you that would help you in your, um, let’s say problematic situation. And in return you could give us the company since even you agreed, that you can’t manage it."

  "Actually I’ve never said I can’t manage it."

  "But you’re a seamstress aren’t you? Sorry, I mean a designer. And you don't have time!"

  "And just what would be these things you know and that you could tell?"

  Pam winked and finally releasing her arm answered only, "well, you need an alibi, don’t you? Think about it," and she turned to meet her brother who, in the meantime, had finished with the deputy.

  "What have you learned?" Mabel asked him.

  "Not much more than what we already knew... But in any case your cousins offered to give me the company at a favorable price if I will help them challenge the will. Completely crazy!

  And then I heard from a waiter in the bar that Mr. Hopkins was seen, on the evening of the funeral, with your aunt's ex-husband and they were talking in a violent way about the will, which would be read the following day, and about a brother of your uncle. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with our case, though. Do you know anything about this brother of your uncle? It seems that Mr. White kept asking Mr. Hopkins what he knew about this brother."

  "I don't remember... My aunt has been divorced for years. I must have been very small when Uncle George and she were married. Frankly I don’t know if my uncle had a brother."

  "Well," said the deputy. "I will check to be sure."

  It was Mabel’s turn to update him about what she had learned. "I'm kind of disappointed, though," She admitted in the end. "Just after speaking with the maid I seemed to have made progress, but now I realize that we are right back where we started. And I’m increasingly upset with my cousins. They are really horrible people!"

  "Don't let it bother you. Be thankful that they don't live nearby. And don't feel disappointed. I'm pretty satisfied even if we only learned a few things; it’s true. And relatively inconclusive. But it's still better than nothing, a small step."

  "Now what?"

  "I think that at this point, in order to unravel the story, we should to go back in time and study a little about your aunt’s past."

  "No, I'm sorry. We tried to go back in time, but just didn’t succeed." Mabel looked at the ground disconsolate.

  "What?" Randy looked at her stunned.

  She raised her eyes, realizing her gaffe and blushed. "I was joking! It was a joke ..." That’s all I need, in addition to my magical powers doing what they want, now things are coming out of my mouth that no one must know! "My aunt was an honest and wonderful woman." She continued trying to pretend that it was nothing.

  "I don't doubt it, but the murder of Mr. Hopkins has something to do with the will. I'm sure. Anyway, it doesn’t make sense that Mr. Hopkins insisted on the fact that he owns 50% of the company, and even the lawyer can’t explain it. What’s more he’s still out of town, and we won’t see him for two days if I'm not mistaken." He quickly checked his notebook. "Yes, that's right. I think it would be a good idea to make a stop at the company and check the books. Do you understand accounting?"

  "Not really, just enough to keep up with my business. But every month I take all my papers to an accountant."

  "Then let’s find out who keeps the books of the company. Who better than he can give us valuable information? I’ll call the main number to warn the guard of our arrival."

  Mabel got into the car with Randy, and they headed to the company, which was out of town. The big, low building covered a large area of what had once been open country.

  Waiting for Mabel to take over, but also for something to become clear about her implied or actual involvement in the murder, the lawyer, as executor, had had the company closed for a few days, with the exception of surveillance which he kept, fearing that some profiteer would take advantage of the situation to grab some raw materials or even try to steal the secrets of the company.

  Mabel was rather nervous at the idea of entering the factory, which soon would be hers, and that she would then have to manage. The idea terrified her, and she shook her head.

  "What’s the matter?" Randy asked.

  "I can't imagine myself being the head of a company like this. I don't know how it's possible that my aunt has left it to me. Wouldn't it have been more logical for her to have left it to the former partner? Or to her ex-husband? Or to Kendra? In short, to anyone, but not to me. She knew that my greatest wish was to become an established fashion designer."

  "Really?" Well, let's get to the bottom of this mess, if not you won’t be able to be either a fashion designer or to run this company!"

  They finally came the company's front gate and greeted the guard who was in a cage. The front parking lot was deserted, except for a single car, probably the guard’s. He greeted them kindly, but Mabel didn’t miss the dirty looks he gave her as he followed them inside, nervously jangling his big bunch of keys.

  "Why is he looking at me like that?" Mabel whispered to Randy.

  "I wouldn’t know," he replied, in a low voice. "Maybe he really thinks it’s you who killed that man."

  "Here," said the man continuing to lead the way. "Over here is the main production line."

  "Thank you, but we need to visit the offices."

  "The offices?" He answered confused. "I don't know if I can let you in there." Then, as if having a sudden inspiration he said, "But do you have a warrant?"

  "A warrant?" Said the deputy. "But didn’t the station call to advise you? And this young lady is Mabel Norwood, the legitimate owner of the company. She has every right to inspect her property."

  "Mm," he grunted. "But Mr. Whitmore isn’t here, and only he has the key."

  "Take us there anyway, thank you," Randy answered back dryly.

  The guard made his way up the stairs, arriving at a landing with two doors. "Here we are." He said.

  The office consisted of two ugly rooms for three people. "This is Mr. Whitmore’s room, who keeps the company’s books." He said indicating one of the doors. "And this is Miss Rose’s, who is the secretary and Mrs. Ramirez’, who takes care of supplies and sales. Mrs. Stone has always managed the company from her home."

  "Yes, I know." Replied Mabel, slightly sarcastically, returning the man’s hard look.

  The deputy approached the doors, examining the locks. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and went to open the first door.

  "What are you doing, you can’t enter, it's locked." The guard suddenly stopped talking when he saw that the door
gave way. Randy carefully opened the door, indicating that the other two should stay back, and when it was open, they were hit by a vague smell of a cigar.