by Adele Abbott
William Walters lived in one of the more upmarket areas of Candlefield, where the houses were larger and definitely more expensive.
The man opened the door while I was still mid-knock, and then he stared at me in a rather unnerving fashion.
“William?”
“Err, sorry. I just can’t believe that the Jill Maxwell is standing on my doorstep.”
“Well, here I am. It’s definitely me.”
“Sorry, where are my manners? Do come inside. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thanks. I’ve actually just had a cup of tea.”
“Let’s go through to the living room.” He gestured to the second door on the right.
I took one step inside, and then froze to the spot.
“What do you think?” He squeezed past me.
“I—err—”
“I have every poster they’ve ever published of you, I believe.”
“And they’re all on your walls. Nice.”
“There are way too many to fit in this room alone. Would you like to see those in my bedroom?”
“Err, no, I’m good, but thanks for asking.”
“I have this too.” He picked up a large scrapbook and started to flick through the pages; it was full of press-cuttings. “There’s every article ever printed about you in here. There’s nothing I don’t know about you. Would you like to test me?”
“That’s okay. I’m very—err—” Creeped out. “Impressed.”
“Thank you. I like to think that I’m your number one fan. That’s why, when you called, I cancelled my plans so I could offer my services.”
“That’s really kind of you. I hope you’re not missing anything important on my behalf?”
“It’s the monthly meeting of the JM Appreciation Society.”
“JM?”
“Jill Maxwell of course. The guys there are going to blow a fuse when I tell them you were in my house. Even I can’t believe it. This isn’t a dream, is it?”
“No, it’s really me, but we do need to get down to the matter in hand.”
“Of course. How exactly can I help?”
After I’d run through my theory about the Candle Blue, he brought up some weird coloured maps on his computer screen. “Okay, Jill, if you could just give me the location of the properties you mentioned.”
I told him the address of the community centre, the nursery and lido.
“Check, check and check. Your hunch is correct, Jill. There are very few remaining pockets of Candle Blue, and the larger ones are all outside the built-up areas of Candlefield. There are, however, a few small deposits in Candlefield itself, and the locations you have given me, correspond to three of them.”
Bingo!
“That’s great. Thanks very much, William. I really do appreciate your help. How much do I owe you?”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking a fee from you, but there is something you could do in lieu of payment.”
“Oh?”
“Could I take a selfie with you?”
“Of course.”
He snapped a couple of photos. “Thanks ever so much, Jill.”
“No problem. I really must get going now, though.”
“Couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’d love to show you the video footage I have of you in the tournaments.”
“I’d love to.” Not. “But I really must be making tracks.”
Lovely as it is to have fans, sometimes they can be a little too much. Still, my consultation with William Walters had proven to be most fruitful, and on the strength of that, I gave Daze a call.
“It’s Jill. I have something that I think will interest you. Can you spare me five minutes sometime today?”
“Blaze and I are actually in a hole at the moment.”
“Sorry. If you’re in a fix, it can wait until Monday.”
“No. When I said we were in a hole, I didn’t mean we were having problems. I meant we’re literally in a hole; we’re digging it. You’re welcome to come over and talk to me now if you like. Any excuse to get out of this muddy, wet hole.”
“Okay, great.”
I magicked myself to Washbridge. Daze had just climbed out of the hole and Blaze was about to do likewise.
“There’s no need for you to get out,” Daze said to him. “Jill is here to speak to me.”
“Not fair.”
“Cry me a river.” Daze could be a hard woman when she wanted to be. “What have you got for us, Jill?”
“I hate my life.” Blaze threw out a shovel-full of dirt, which landed suspiciously close to Daze.
“I think I’ve uncovered some kind of—err—I’m not sure what you’d call it. An illegal mining operation, I suppose. In Candlefield.”
“That sounds like something for the local police over there.”
“Yes, except that I think they’re bringing the minerals over here to the human world to sell.”
“Hang on. What kind of minerals?”
“Candle Blue.”
“That has to be Blue Jim up to his old tricks.”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t you remember I told you we’ve been on the lookout for him?”
“Vaguely.”
“That’s where he got his nickname from. He peddles Candle Blue here in the human world, but so far we’ve had no luck tracing him.”
“Do you think one of the guys I saw collecting the Candle Blue might be him?”
“I doubt it, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that they’re supplying him. Fill me in on all the details, would you?”
I told Daze about the lido and the other buildings that had been taken over by Reptile Holdings, AKA, G&D Enterprises.
“That’s fantastic work, Jill.” She turned back to the hole. “Blaze, why are you wasting your time down there? Get up here. We have work to do.”
I really hoped Daze couldn’t lip read or Blaze would be in big trouble.
“Let me know how you get on, Daze, would you? I’ve still got Grandma on my case about the lido.”
“Will do.”
***
I’d no sooner walked through the door than Florence came stomping over to me, hands on her waist. “Daddy is rubbish at models!”
Jack popped his head around the kitchen door. “That’s a bit harsh, pumpkin.”
“Come and see, Mummy.” Florence took my hand and led the way into the kitchen.
“Oh dear.” It took all my willpower not to laugh. “It’s not all that bad.”
“It’s rubbish,” Florence insisted. “The wheels are wobbly, and the seat is upside down.”
I sensed a distraction was needed. “Have you checked on the caterpillars yet?”
“Not today.”
“You’d better go and do it, then. You might miss them turning into butterflies.”
“Okay.”
Once she was outside, I turned to Jack. “What’s that thing supposed to be?”
“It was really complicated.”
“I thought you said you loved model kits when you were a kid?”
“I did, but I was never any good at them. Can’t you use magic to put it right?”
“Sure, I’ll use the make my model princess’ carriage right spell, shall I?”
“There might be one.”
“Of course there isn’t.”
“You said that about the ‘whistle’ spell.”
“They’re still not butterflies.” A disgruntled Florence stood in the doorway. “I think they’ve forgotten how to do it.”
“It won’t be long now.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Jack said. “Why don’t we all play a game?”
“Snakes and ladders!” Florence yelled. “I want to play snakes and ladders.”
“No using magic to cheat, you two,” Jack said as he rolled the dice.
“We don’t cheat, do we, Florence?”
“No.” The huge smirk on her face somewhat undermined her credibility.
Twenty minutes later, Jack was well ahead
. If it had just been him and me playing, I would definitely have used magic, but I didn’t want to set a bad example for Florence. It was Jack’s turn to roll the dice.
“Five!” He moved the counter. “Hang on, where did that snake come from?” He pointed to the board.
I glanced over at Florence who was giggling.
A snake! Of course. Why didn’t I realise before?
Chapter 27
It was Sunday morning, and Jack had nipped to the village store to pick up some marmalade. In any other shop that would have taken him no more than ten minutes, but with the Stock sisters’ shelving system, I told him I’d expect him in an hour or so.
I was upstairs, sorting out the laundry basket when Florence came running into the bedroom.
“Great-Grandma has fixed it!”
“Fixed what?”
“The princess’ carriage. It’s all fixed.”
“Hang on. Where is Great-Grandma?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Is she now?” I threw the laundry on the bed and hurried downstairs, to find Grandma putting on the kettle. “What are you doing in here?”
“I’m making myself a cup of tea, seeing as no one else was going to do it.”
“How did you get in?”
“Through that rectangular-shaped thing at the front of the house. I believe they call it a door.”
“Very funny. I meant who let you in?”
“I let myself in. And before you have a go at me, I bumped into Jeff coming out of the gate and he said I should go straight in.”
“It’s Jack.”
“Do you want a cuppa?”
“Yes, please.”
“How did you manage to do that?” I gestured at the photo-perfect model carriage, which Florence was now happily playing with.
“With magic of course. How else?”
“Yes, but which spell did you use?”
“The make my model princess’ carriage right spell, obviously. Anyway, enough of that. I came to see what’s happening with the lido.”
While we drank our tea, I brought her up to speed on the situation.
“So, I was right about the Candle Blue. What about the lido, though? Is there still time to save it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve handed everything over to Daze.”
“And what is she going to do?”
“Make some arrests, I assume.”
“You assume? That’s not going to get the job done, is it?” She gulped down the rest of her tea. “I’d better go and light a fire under that Daisy girl, or nothing will get done.” She gave Florence a kiss on the head. “Bye bye, my little poppet.”
“Bye, Great-Grandma.”
When Jack finally got back, he’d been gone for almost an hour and a quarter.
“I thought you’d got lost.”
“That store is hopeless.”
“Did you get the marmalade?”
“Eventually. It was under ‘L’.”
“Why on earth would it be under ‘L’ and not ‘M’?”
“According to Marjorie, it was under ‘L’ for lade.” He did a double take at the princess’ carriage. “What happened to that?”
“Do you like it, Daddy?” Florence beamed. “Great-Grandma mended it for me.”
“Did she?” He turned to me. “And which spell did she use?”
“I don’t think she said. Anyway, I have to nip out to see someone.”
“Is this all an elaborate excuse to get out of the village fete?”
“No, I promise it’s not. I’ll be back long before that starts.”
“You’d better be. I don’t want to have to explain to the vicar why you’ve gone AWOL.”
“I’ll be back.”
“That impression of yours doesn’t get any better.”
“Says you.”
***
If this morning’s plan extraordinaire was going to work, the execution and timing would have to be just perfect.
After parking outside the house, I double-checked my watch, and then made my way to the front door. The only part of the plan that was outside of my control was whether or not he was at home, so it was with fingers crossed that I knocked.
“What do you want? How did you find out where I lived?”
“Good morning to you too, Billy. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“I asked what you wanted.”
“A cup of tea? Why thank you. I don’t mind if I do.” Before he could stop me, I’d pushed past him into the house.
“Get out of here before I throw you out.”
“Do you really want to try that after what happened the last time?” I took the first door on my left, which turned out to be the living room. “Oh dear, Billy, did you choose this colour scheme?”
“Tell me what you want and then get out.”
“My pleasure. I’d like you to take a trip with me to the police station.”
“And why would I do that?”
“I think you already know the answer.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, if that’s how you want to play it.” I sighed. “I know you’re responsible for Killer’s death. I’m just not sure if you meant to do it.”
“I had nothing to do with his death. I told you it was Slugger.”
“Try again. Slugger has a cast iron alibi for the time of Killer’s death.”
“That still doesn’t mean I did it.”
“You did overhear the conversation between Slugger and Killer, didn’t you?”
“No, I told you that I didn’t.”
“Slugger says otherwise.”
“He’s lying.”
“I don’t think so. When you overheard Slugger welcome Killer back, you knew your days as the number one mechanic at Loose Chippings were over.”
“That’s rubbish.”
“So you went to see Killer, to try to persuade him not to come back.”
“More nonsense.”
“When he wouldn’t listen, you lost your temper. You obviously didn’t hit him or that would have shown up on the autopsy. Did you push him? I reckon you did, and when he hit his head on the bench, you thought he was dead, panicked and ran away. Do you want to know the really tragic part? When you left, he was still alive. If you’d called the ambulance, he might have lived.”
“I didn’t do it.” His initial bravado had all but drained away.
“Killer managed to hang onto life just long enough to leave a clue as to the identity of his murderer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He used his own blood to scrawl on the petrol tank of his bike.” I took out my phone and showed him the photo. “Andy thought it was the letter ‘S’, but it isn’t, is it, Billy? It’s a snake, just like the one on your arm.”
“You can’t prove any of this.”
“Maybe not, but the police will be able to when they check phone location records and CCTV nearby. They haven’t bothered until now because they assumed that Killer had tripped and hit his head, but I’m confident I can convince them to think again. If it really was an accident, things will go better for you if you hand yourself in before they come looking for you.”
“Or I could just leave.” He pushed past me and headed for the door.
I gave him a few seconds and then followed.
“Let me go!” he screamed.
“Thanks, guys,” I said. “Your timing was perfect.”
“My pleasure, Jill.” Chains had hold of Billy’s left arm.
“Can’t I just give him a good kicking first?” Slugger had hold of Billy’s other arm.
“No, you can’t, but you can take him to the police station.”
Only when they’d left did Alison show herself. She’d been waiting around the corner, no doubt watching proceedings.
“I was convinced Slugger had killed him,” she said.
“So was I for a while.”
“What will happen to Billy?”
“What if he won’t admit to it?”
“I’m pretty sure it won’t come to that. He’s probably more scared of what Chains and Slugger will do to him than he is of the courts.”
“Thanks for everything you’ve done, Jill. I really do appreciate it. Killer had his faults, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“My pleasure.”
“I heard Slugger took you for a ride on his bike. Can we expect you to join our club any time soon?”
“No chance. Once was enough for me.”
“You’ll let me have your bill?”
“You can bank on it.”
***
“See, I told you I’d be back in time,” I said.
Jack checked his watch. “Only just. How did it go?”
“Fantastic. I left Billy in the capable hands of Chains and Slugger, the leaders of the two motorcycle clubs. They were accompanying him to the police station so he could make a full confession.”
“Are you sure they won’t just dish out their own brand of justice?”
“They know if they do, I’ll turn them both in.”
“How did you work out who did it?”
“To be honest, it was the game of snakes and ladders that did it.”
“You’re going to have to explain that.”
“Killer left a blood stain on the petrol tank of his bike. It looked like an ‘S’, and for a while there, I was convinced Slugger had killed him. Then, yesterday, when we were playing that game, I saw the snake that you landed on, and everything made sense.”
“You mean the snake our daughter magicked there, so that I’d lose?”
“Let’s gloss over that for a minute. It made me realise that the blood print on the tank wasn’t an ‘S’. It was a snake. And guess who has a tattoo of a snake?”
“Billy.”
“Got it in one. For what it’s worth, I don’t believe he meant to murder Killer. I think there was an argument, Billy pushed him, and he fell backwards and hit his head.”
“Mummy! Daddy!” Florence came running in from the garden. “Come and see!”
“What is it?”
“Angie and Archie are butterflies.”
