by Adele Abbott
“Do you know something about the guardian?”
He pushed the fringe off his face. “That’s me. I’m the guardian.”
“You?”
“Yeah.”
“In that case, could we have a quick chat somewhere?”
“I suppose so, but I’m absolutely ravenous. I was just about to go to the cafe next door. I could meet you there after I’ve got changed out of this stupid suit.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
The cafe, which was called Two Little Ducks, was a bona fide greasy spoon. When Adam Rodenia turned up a few minutes later, he’d exchanged his suit for a baggy green and blue tracksuit. As soon as we stepped inside the cafe, the guy behind the counter shouted, “Your usual, Adam?”
“Yes please, Joe.”
“And what about your lady friend?”
Adam turned to me.
“No thanks. I’ve already eaten.”
It wasn’t difficult to find a table because there were only two other customers in the place.
“Why do you want the compass stone?” Adam said.
“I’m going after Braxmore.”
“Are you insane?”
“Probably. Do you know where the north compass stone is?”
“Of course I do. It’s my job to know.”
“How long have you been a guardian?”
“This gig has been in my family for centuries. It’s passed down from one generation to the next.”
“If you’re a guardian, how come you have time to be a bingo caller?”
“Being a guardian doesn’t take up much of my time. All I have to do is make sure I keep the information safe in case anyone asks for it.”
“How often does someone do that?”
“You’re the first person to ask me. And I know for certain that no one ever asked my father or grandfather. Before that, I couldn’t say.”
“Do you get paid for doing this?”
“Yeah. I receive a payment into my bank account each month. It’s not much, but I can’t complain because it’s basically money for nothing.”
“So where is this information?”
“Back at my flat.”
“Can we go and get it?”
“Yeah, when I’ve finished my egg and chips.”
When his food arrived, I began to regret my decision not to partake. The cafe might be a greasy spoon, but the grub looked delicious.
“Can I pinch a chip?” I said.
He had to think about it for a moment. “Okay, but only one. I’m starving.”
Tight or what?
When Adam had finished his meal, we made our way to his flat.
“It’s a bit untidy,” he said.
It was nothing of the sort; it put my house to shame.
“Do you want to grab a seat in there?” He pointed to the lounge. “I’ll go and see if I can find the info. I haven’t seen the folder for a while, but I think I remember where I put it.”
“Okay.”
This guy wasn’t exactly filling me with confidence. And, fifteen minutes later, when he still hadn’t returned, I was beginning to fear the worst.
“Got it!” He reappeared, holding a Manila folder. “I’d put it in the ottoman.” He passed me the file.
Inside was a scrap of paper, on which were the words:
Find the north compass stone where the rainbows end
“Is that it?” I checked the folder to make sure there wasn’t anything else inside, but it was empty.
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? There must be more to it.”
“No, that’s it.”
Great.
Chapter 2
I hated Monday mornings, particularly when it was pouring down with rain. And as if that wasn’t a bad enough start to the day, when I picked up the box of Chococandy Pops, it was empty.
“Who’s been eating my Chococandy Pops?”
“You’re the only one who eats that rubbish,” Jack said.
“What about you, Florence? Did you eat them?”
“No, Mummy, I don’t want my teeth to fall out.”
“How come this box is empty, then?” I shook it to prove the point.
“Most likely because you put it back in the cupboard like that,” Jack said.
That was a ridiculous notion. Someone must have eaten them. Maybe it was Buddy.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“You’re welcome to have some muesli.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll go and see if they have some at the store.”
“Good luck with that.” Jack laughed.
I was on my way across the village when someone called my name.
“Grandma, what a nice surprise,” I lied. “I’m just on my way to the store for some—”
“I’m not interested in your shopping habits. I want to talk to you about the lido.”
“Aunt Lucy mentioned something about that yesterday.”
“Candle Lido is one of the great institutions in Candlefield. It’s been there forever, but they’ve just served notice that it will close soon, and is going to be demolished.”
“Who are they? Who owns it?”
“That’s just the point. No one seems to know. If I did, I’d be hammering on their door to register my displeasure. I want you to find out who’s behind this awful decision.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Oh, sorry. I was under the impression that you were my granddaughter, Jill, the private investigator. You must be another Jill.”
“Very funny.”
“So, you’ll find out who’s behind it?”
“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”
“Good, and make sure you report back to me as soon as you know something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The two Stock sisters were behind the counter, playing a game of dominoes.
“You can’t put that there, Marjorie,” Cynthia said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a blank.”
“I know it is. That means I can put it next to any domino I like.”
“No, it doesn’t. You have to put it next to another blank.”
“That’s not right. A blank can go anywhere.”
Marjorie turned to me. “Jill, will you explain the rules of dominoes to my sister?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with them. I just popped in for a box of Chococandy Pops. Do you have any?”
“I’m afraid we’re all out of them,” Cynthia said. “But we do have Strawberrycandy Pops.”
“And Toffeecandy Pops,” Marjorie added.
“I haven’t tried either of those. Where would I find them?”
“The Toffeecandy Pops are under P for pops.”
“Right, and I assume the Strawberrycandy Pops are with them?”
“Actually, no, they’re under S for strawberry.”
“Of course.” Give me strength.
Once I’d tracked down both flavours of the cereal, I returned to the counter where the two sisters were still arguing about the rules of dominoes. Eventually, I managed to get their attention long enough to pay for my purchases, and then I made my way back to the house.
Jack took one look at the boxes of cereal and rolled his eyes. “Really?”
“They didn’t have Chococandy.”
“Mummy!” Florence tugged at my hand. “When are we going to practise our dance? You said we could do it yesterday, but we didn’t.”
“I know, darling, and I’m very sorry, but I was really tired last night.”
“Can we do it now?”
“There isn’t enough time because I have to go to work and you have to go to school, but we can do it when I get home tonight.”
“Do you pinkie promise?”
“Yes.” We locked pinkies.
“Would you like me to show you the dance now?”
“I—err—”
“I’d love to see it,” Jack piped up.<
br />
When I’d told Florence that she could come up with the dance, I’d expected something really simple. Like the one Winky and I had done for the pirate competition. How was I supposed to know that Florence was a budding choreographer? The routine she’d come up with lasted for over five minutes and was incredibly complicated.
“Do you like it, Mummy?” she asked.
“It’s very good, but it’s rather complicated. Maybe you could make a few—”
“It’s just perfect as it is,” Jack said. “You and Mummy are bound to win.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Florence gushed.
“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Fifteen minutes later, Florence went upstairs to get ready for school.
“That’s a great dance routine she came up with, isn’t it?” Jack grinned.
“I’m going to petition them to have a father and daughter competition.”
“You should. I’ve got the moves.” He did a weird kind of jig.
“What was that?”
“You’re only jealous. I still can’t believe that the guardian turned out to be a bingo caller.”
“Me neither. I was expecting some kind of exotic creature. Certainly not a young guy with a floppy fringe, calling legs eleven.”
“Have you given any more thought to the clue he gave you?”
“Plenty, but I’m no wiser. Where do rainbows end, anyway?”
“Beats me. Isn’t there supposed to be a pot of gold at the end of them?”
“Supposedly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Ask around, I suppose. I might go to Candlefield Library to see if I can turn up anything there.”
***
Mrs V was sitting cross-legged on her desk. Her eyes were closed, and she was making a humming noise. I wasn’t sure if I should say something or just creep past her. I was still trying to decide when she opened her eyes.
“Good morning, Jill.”
“Morning. Is your chair broken?”
“No, dear. I’ve decided to take up meditation.”
“You were making a weird humming noise.”
“That’s my mantra.”
“Right. What made you decide to take up meditation?”
“It was one of my yarnie friends, Matilda Moretime, who suggested it. As she pointed out, we live in such stressful times. It’s extremely important to relax and recharge our batteries.”
“I’d better leave you to it, then.”
“It’s all right, dear.” She eased herself off the desk. “I’ve finished my session for this morning, and I’ll do another one after lunch. You’re welcome to join me if you like. There’s plenty of room on the desk.”
“It’s not really my thing.”
“You should give it a chance. You always seem so stressed out.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I have something to show you.” She opened her handbag and took out a photograph.
“Is this Pepe?”
“It is. Isn’t he a handsome boy?”
“Which end is his head?”
“Very funny. You can see his little face there.”
“Oh yes, I see it now. How are you getting on with him?”
“Pepe and I are doing famously.”
“And Armi?”
“Unfortunately, Pepe seems to have taken a dislike to him. Whenever Armi comes into the room, Pepe growls at him. To tell you the truth, I think Armi is a little afraid, which is silly because Pepe wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“I’m sure they’ll become the best of friends. Could I have a coffee, please, Mrs V? I need something to get me going this morning.”
“Coming right up. You haven’t forgotten that you have an appointment this morning at ten, have you?”
“Of course not.” Totally. “What was the name again?”
“It’s a Ms Arnold. I have to say, she was remarkably well spoken. It’s nice to see we’re attracting a better class of clientele at last.”
“You’re beginning to sound like a snob, Mrs V.”
“Not at all. I would just prefer that the riff-raff kept their distance.”
Wow!
“Maybe I should put up a sign outside saying no riff-raff allowed.”
“That’s a good idea. Incidentally, I’ve put a newspaper on your desk, Jill. There’s an article on the front page that I thought you’d like to read.”
“Right, thanks.”
There was a tent pitched on the floor in the middle of my office.
I walked over and unzipped the flap to find Winky sitting inside.
“This may be a silly question, Winky, but why are you sitting in a tent in my office?”
“It’s not big enough for me to stand up in.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re about the same height whether you’re sitting or standing—hang on, that’s not the point. I meant why is there a tent pitched in my office?”
“It’s a dry run.”
“For what?”
“Before I venture out into the wild. I wanted to make sure I could remember how to put it up.”
“You’re going camping?” I laughed.
“Why not?”
“You’re much too nesh for the outdoor life.”
“Rubbish. I am at one with nature.”
“Where exactly are you going?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Wherever my compass takes me. You should join me. You look like you could do with some fresh air.”
“No, thanks.”
“Being stuck in this office all day isn’t good for you.”
“What is it with everyone, trying to sort out my health? Mrs V just asked me to meditate with her.”
“The great outdoors would do you the world of good. You could collect wood, build fires, and cook our food.”
“And what would you be doing while I was doing all that?”
“Keeping a watch out for wild animals.”
“In case an elephant should happen to stumble across our tent, I suppose?”
“Exactly.”
“Tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll give it a miss.”
The newspaper article that Mrs V had highlighted related to Phil Black, a client who had hired me to clear his name. Phil had been convicted of the murder of his younger brother and had served several years behind bars. I’d discovered that the young boy was still alive and living with his stepfather, who had allowed Phil to take the blame for a non-existent murder. According to the article, the stepfather was now serving time for the kidnap of his son, and Phil’s conviction had been quashed. By far the most pleasing aspect of the article was the news that Phil had been reunited, not only with his younger brother, but also with his estranged mother. That was a testament to his character because Phil’s mother had totally disowned him, believing him guilty of his younger brother’s murder. She’d refused to visit him in prison, and wanted nothing to do with him after his release. No one would have blamed Phil if he’d held a grudge, but instead, he’d forgiven his mother, and the three of them were happily reunited.
It brought a tear to my eye.
***
Just before ten o’clock, Mrs V came through to my office and pushed the door closed behind her.
“Is Ms Arnold here?” I said.
“Yes, but I fear I may have misjudged her.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not sure we should be dealing with the likes of her.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs V walked over to my desk, and said in a hushed voice, “I fear she’s one of those Bell’s Angels.”
“Bells? Do you mean Hell’s Angels?”
“Yes. Shall I tell her there’s been a mistake and you’re too busy to see her?”
“Definitely not. Send her in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Very well, but the sooner you get that no riff-raff sign made, the better.”
The you
ng woman was indeed dressed from head to toe in biker leathers, and she had a crash helmet under one arm. Her black hair was wild, and there was a small tattoo of a dragon on her neck.
“Jill Maxwell?” Her voice didn’t match her appearance at all. She spoke as though she had a plum in her mouth.
“That’s me.”
“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.” She strode across the room and offered her hand. “I’m Alison. Alison Arnold.”
“Do have a seat, Alison.”
She put her helmet on the floor. “I think I may have scared your receptionist.”
“You could be right. Mrs V was expecting a debutante.”
“Been there, done that. It wasn’t for me.”
“How can I help you, Alison?”
“I’m a member of the Wash-on-Wheels Motorcycle Club. You may have seen us around the city?” She stood up and turned around. On the back of her jacket was a picture of a dragon sitting astride a motorbike. Underneath it were the words Wash-on-Wheels M.C.
“Impressive artwork.”
“The club is over thirty years old, and although it has a bad reputation amongst some of the residents of Washbridge, its members actually do a lot of work for children’s charities.”
“I see. And what brings you here today?”
“One of our members, Killer Cole, has been—”
“Sorry to interrupt, but did you just call him Killer?”
“That’s just his nickname. His real name was Cecil.”
“Was?”
“He died a few weeks ago. He was found, lying in a pool of blood, on the floor of the club’s workshop.”
“What happened?”
“According to the police, he tripped, fell backwards, and hit his head on the workbench.”
“That sounds like an accident.”
“We don’t believe that for one minute. We’re sure this is the work of a rival club from West Chipping. They’re known as the Loose Chippings.”
“Do you have any proof they’re in some way responsible?”
“No, but there’s a lot of animosity between the two clubs.”
“It’s not much to go on.”
“I realise that, but I’m willing to pay whatever it costs for you to prove they did it. Your receptionist was right in as much as I do come from a wealthy family, and I inherited a small fortune.”
