by Adele Abbott
“She wants to commission us to make four movies for Max TV.”
“I hope you told her we don’t make movies for other TV stations?”
“She said they’d pay a million per film.”
“A million? Each? Are you sure you didn’t mishear?”
“Positive. That’s what she said.”
“Jeez, they must have more money than sense over there. What did you say?”
“That we’d do it, of course.”
“Without consulting me?”
“She needed an answer there and then. It’s a great deal, Dayton. You know it is.”
She did. I could practically see the pound signs spinning in her eyes.
“How did she know where to find us?”
“Who cares? This is more money than we’ll make in five years from Spooky TV.”
“Can you two handle the increase in output?”
“Yes. Well, except—” I hesitated for effect.
“Except for what?”
“We don’t have enough—err—actors.”
“I sent you another two only the other day.”
“I know, but if we’re going to make four extra movies, we’re going to need more.”
“How many more?”
“At least another ten.”
“Are you insane? Do you know how difficult it is for me to get hold of them? It’s not like they turn up at my door and volunteer.”
“I’ve often wondered, where do you get them from?”
“I have my people snatch them off the streets of GT, but it’s not like they can do it in broad daylight. They have to wait until the dead of night.”
“Thank you for sharing that with us,” Mad appeared through the door behind me.
“Who are you?” Dayton took a few steps back.
“My name is Madeline, but everyone calls me Mad. Now you know who I am, why don’t you tell me, is Dayton your first or last name?”
“George.” She turned to me. “What’s going on? Who is this woman?”
I chose that moment to reverse the ‘doppelganger’ spell. “Actually, my name is Jill.”
By now Dayton must have realised that the game was up, but if she did have any remaining doubts, they were quickly dispelled when Mad snapped the handcuffs onto her wrists.
***
I considered calling into the office on my way home, but in the end, I decided against it because I didn’t want to disrupt Winky’s production.
As I was pulling onto the driveway, I noticed that the roadworks were still there, but there was still no sign of activity. I was just about to go into the house when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving around inside the tent. Jack had been driving me mad with his constant questions about the roadworks, so I figured I’d go and see if I could find out what they were up to, and how long it would be before they’d finished.
When I called out, no one responded, but I was sure I’d seen someone moving around inside, so I pulled back the flap.
“Mr Hosey?”
“Jill. You’ve done it to me again.”
“Done what? Why are you in here? It could be dangerous.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. This is my new neighbourhood watch camouflage.”
“Roadworks? Seriously?”
“The man at Neighbourhood Camouflage Supplies told me it was one of their bestsellers. It gets great reviews, apparently.”
“I think he saw you coming.”
“Why do you say that? It looks authentic, doesn’t it? I thought it was indistinguishable from the real thing.”
“That may be true, but I think you’re missing the point. How long had you planned on staying here?”
“I hadn’t really given it much thought. Indefinitely, probably.”
“And you don’t think that might strike the neighbours as a little odd?”
“I didn’t think it would be an issue. I’ve known roadworks be in the same place for weeks at a time.”
He had a point.
“Did the man at Neighbourhood Camouflage Supplies offer any kind of moneyback guarantee?”
“Yes, he was so confident I’d be satisfied that he said I could get a full refund if I returned it, for any reason, within fourteen days.”
“In that case, my advice would be to take it back. Right now, while you still can.”
“They did have a few other items that caught my eye. Perhaps I should do a swap rather than get a refund.”
“Please make sure you give the next one a lot more thought.”
“I’ll do that, Jill. And thank you for your input. I do appreciate it.”
***
“I can’t believe it was Hosey.” Jack was preparing dinner. “Whatever was he thinking?”
“He wasn’t, but then this is the same guy who thought the dog poo bin was a good idea.”
“That was sooo funny.”
“Jack, sweetie, I know I’m not supposed to ask you about police matters.”
“That’s right, you aren’t. So don’t.”
“I was only going to ask if you knew anyone called Rhodes? He might go by the nickname Rhodesy.”
Jack stopped what he was doing and came over to the kitchen table. “What do you know about Rhodesy?”
“Nothing, but I heard someone mention his name today. Why? Who is he?”
“Ricky Rhodes, AKA Rhodesy, is one of the biggest drug dealers in this area. At least he was until earlier today.”
“What do you mean, he was?”
“Someone murdered him.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. What do you know about it?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that, Jill. How did you come across his name?”
“Do you remember I told you that I was going to continue investigating the missing penguins?”
“Yeah.”
“I paid Royston a visit, and while I was there, I heard him mention someone called Rhodesy.”
“What did he say?”
“That he wanted Rhodesy taken care of.”
Chapter 26
“I’m still not happy about this,” Jack said.
Over breakfast, we were continuing the discussion (argument) that we’d started last night.
“I promise that I’ll call you as soon as I know what they’re up to.”
“Royston is a very dangerous man. You don’t know what you might be walking into.”
“He may be dangerous, but I’m a witch, remember. I’ve been in much worse situations; you know that. If you make a move now, what have you got? A fragment of an overheard conversation, that’s all. And it’s not as though you can prove that conversation ever took place. What could you charge him with?”
It was quite obvious that Jack knew I was right, but that didn’t make him any happier about the situation. “Tell me again what you plan to do.”
“I’ve already told you a dozen times.”
“Humour me, Jill. It’s the least you can do.”
“I’m going to collect the soft toys that Winky has been making overnight and deliver them to the souvenir shop. Then, hopefully, I’ll find out exactly what they’re doing with them.”
“What makes you so sure they’re doing anything with them?”
“I would have thought that was obvious. Why else would a man like Royston get himself in such a tizzy?”
“Maybe he’s just upset because the shop is out of penguins.”
“There’s definitely more to it than that. Why else would he have panicked when he found out that Duyew had hired me? And, why did he sack Duyew and pay me off? If it turns out that I’m wrong, and this is all perfectly innocent, then I’ll let you know, and no police resources will have been wasted. Okay?”
“You have to promise me that you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.” I gave him a kiss. “I do wish you wouldn’t worry about me, though.”
“Worrying about you is my job.”
&nbs
p; ***
“What do you think, Jill?” Mrs V was standing next to her desk, admiring her handiwork.
“It’s—err—very yarnie-themed, isn’t it?”
“I wasn’t sure how to decorate it at first, but then it came to me. Why not combine my two passions?”
“It’ll certainly be a talking point for clients.”
“I’m glad you like it. I could do something similar with your desk if you like?”
“Err, thanks for the offer, but I’d rather not. It’s Dad’s old desk, and I’d prefer to keep it as he left it.”
“I understand, dear. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thanks. I only popped in to pick something up.”
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, when is the replacement sign coming?”
“I spoke to Mr Tune yesterday. He’s promised faithfully that we’ll get it next week. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Fingers crossed, then. I don’t know what that cat of yours is up to—I didn’t like to look, but there’s been an awful lot of noise coming from your office.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll see to him.”
Winky was lying on the sofa; he looked exhausted. On the floor in front of him was a huge pile of soft toys.
“What are these things supposed to be?” I picked one of them up.
“Penguins, as per your request.”
“This isn’t a penguin. It’s a mini-Winky with wings and a beak.”
“Technically, you’re right, but no one need know that.”
“Of course they’ll know. It’s quite obviously a cat!”
“I think you’ll find that cats don’t have either wings or beaks.”
“These do. I thought you were going to make penguins for me. Proper penguins.”
“And how was I supposed to do that in the time I had available? The tooling alone would have taken a week. Luckily for you, though, I still had a batch of mini-Winkys, so all I had to do was make the wings and beaks and sew them on. Voila!”
“You are unbelievable.”
“Thank you. Even I didn’t think I’d be able to manage it in the time available. Turns out I’m even more talented than I thought.”
I’d expected penguins but what I’d actually got was catguins. The soft toys reminded me of my poor Beanie Babies, which Lizzie, aided and abetted by Kathy, had turned into monsters.
There was nothing to be done about it now; I was stuck with them, like it or lump it. Now I had to figure out how to get them to the car. It would have taken at least a dozen trips to carry them all. It would also have invited questions from Mrs V who would, understandably, have wondered where so many soft toys had come from. There was nothing for it, but to shrink the toys and slip them into my pockets and bag.
Once I got to the car, I placed the tiny soft toys on the back seat, and then reversed the ‘shrink’ spell.
Whoops!
I’d totally underestimated how much room all of the full-size toys would take up. They spread from the back seat into the front, pinning me up against the side window. Although I attracted a few curious looks from passersby, no one came to my aid. Instead I was forced to slowly manoeuvre my hand until I felt the door handle. As soon as the door sprang open, I along with several dozen catguins, fell out onto the ground.
Before I could drive the car safely, I had to relocate half of the stupid soft toys into the boot. Eventually, though, I made it to the Washbridge Penguins souvenir shop.
“Good morning.” The young man behind the counter looked delighted to see me. He no doubt thought I was his first customer of the day. “Do you see anything that takes your fancy?” He spread his arms. “There’s lots to choose from.”
“I’m not here to buy anything. I have a delivery of premium penguins for you.” I produced two catguins from behind my back. “I have a car full of these outside.”
“What’s that thing?” His sour expression was not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“The penguins you’ve been waiting for.”
“They look like cats. With wings. And what’s that thing stuck to its face?”
“It’s a beak of course.”
“They’re nothing like the ones we had before.”
“These are new. As designed by Mr Royston himself.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Could you help me to carry them from the car? I’ve got two-hundred of them out there.”
“We don’t want them in here.”
“I’ve just explained the reason for the new design.”
“It’s not that. They have to be delivered to the warehouse.”
“Why? You sell them from here, don’t you?”
“Yes, but we have strict instructions that they have to go to the warehouse first. They make the delivery to us.”
“That’s a bit of a weird system, isn’t it? Does that happen with everything you stock?”
“No, only the premium penguins.”
Huh? “Fair enough. I don’t have the warehouse address with me. Could you remind me where it is?”
“Sure.”
This was getting weirder and weirder. Why would Royston insist the premium penguins be delivered to the warehouse, and then from there to the souvenir shop?
The warehouse was located on a quiet country road halfway between Washbridge and Middle Tweaking. The security around the place was incredible. What exactly did they have in there? Gold bars?
“Yes?” The security guard on the gate was wearing a uniform that was at least two sizes too small for him. I was a little concerned that one of the buttons on his jacket might pop off at any moment. If it did, I didn’t want to be in the firing line.
“I have a delivery of penguins for you. You’re expecting them, I believe.”
“Where are they?”
Talking of buttons, this guy obviously wasn’t the brightest. “The car is full of them. Look!”
“I thought you said they were penguins.”
“They are penguins.”
“They look more like cats to me.”
“Since when did a cat have a beak and wings?”
“They’re ugly things.”
“I can take them back if you don’t want them, but I understood Mr Royston has been chasing this delivery.”
The guard mumbled something indecipherable under his breath, but then raised the barrier, and pointed towards the goods inwards gate.
The two men who unloaded the car made similar derogatory remarks about the soft toys, but I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, once the car was devoid of catguins, I bid the men goodbye, and made my way off the premises.
But only as far as the nearest layby.
From there, I hurried back to the factory on foot. Invisible now, I levitated over the fence and made my way back to the loading bay where the catguins were piled high. One of the guys who had unloaded the soft toys was on the phone.
“I know they weren’t supposed to arrive today, but I’m telling you they’re here now.” He glanced around, and then continued in a whisper. “This batch are as ugly as hell. What do you want us to do with them? Okay, will do.”
Once he’d finished on the call, his colleague said, “What’s happening?”
“They want us to take them downstairs straight away.”
“So much for my coffee break.”
The two of them proceeded to load the soft toys into a large tub trolley. Once it was full, one of the men began to wheel it towards the lift, while the other stayed behind and began to load a second trolley.
Still invisible, I followed the first man to the lift, and looked over his shoulder as he entered the keycode. There wasn’t enough room inside the lift for me to stand next to the trolley, so I had to climb on top of the catguins. Fortunately, my unobservant friend didn’t notice that the pile of soft toys had been compressed a little.
When we reached the basement, and he started to push the trolley again, he looked rather confused—he was no doubt wondering why
it was suddenly much heavier than it had been before.
In the centre of the room there was a large table, surrounded by chairs. As soon as he’d parked the trolley, I jumped out before he started to unload his cargo. He’d got half of the catguins onto the table when a door opened, and in walked half a dozen men, dressed in identical white coveralls and wearing facemasks.
Perhaps they were here to do some decoupage.
“What are these things?” One of the masked men picked up a soft toy.
“These are plug ugly!” another one quipped.
“Watch what you’re saying.” Warned the man who had delivered them. “I heard that Royston designed these.”
That shut down further criticism.
The six men took their seats around the table. I was still trying to work out what they were doing when the door opened again, and in walked a man carrying a large parcel, which he deposited on the table next to the toys.
Moments later, everything became crystal clear.
Once I was back at the car, I called Jack and gave him the address of the warehouse.
“You’ll need to move quickly. I’m not sure how much longer they’ll be at it.”
“And you’re sure it’s drugs?”
“What else could it be? They’re taking stuffing out of the toys and replacing it with a white powder.”
“I’d better get our people over there.”
“The operation is taking place in the basement. You’ll need the keycode for the lift to get down there. It’s 7634.”
“Got it.”
“Let me know what happens, will you?”
“Yeah, I’ll update you when I can.”
“See you tonight.”
“Okay, and Jill—”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Chapter 27
I would have liked to have been at the warehouse to see the police take Royston’s operation down, but there was somewhere else I had to be. That was if I valued my life.
Grandma had scheduled the opening of her new beauty salon for one-thirty, which struck me as a little odd, but then she never did anything conventionally. Her other high street ventures had all been successful, some more than others. I knew it still rankled with Grandma that Forever Bride hadn’t managed to displace Kathy’s shop as Washbridge’s premier bridal destination. Would Ever Beauty ring the death knell for Nailed-It, or would Deli be able to hold off the competition in the same way as Kathy had? Only time would tell.
