by Adele Abbott
“What’s that?”
“It’s rather complicated, but it allowed me to speak to Ruby Stewart through the computer screen.”
“How very clever. Was she any help?”
“I’m not sure. I hope so.”
“I assume you saw the sign on your way in, Jill?”
“Has Sid put it up already? I didn’t notice.” I turned back to the door. “I wasn’t expecting it yet.”
Mrs V shouted something, but I was already halfway down the stairs. At long last, I would have the sign I’d been waiting for. I couldn’t wait to see it.
Chapter 26
What the—?
This could not be happening. When Mrs V had asked if I’d seen the sign, I’d automatically assumed that Sid Song had installed the second one.
But I’d been wrong.
There was a second sign—well, a kind of temporary banner to be precise, which was hanging directly below mine. The net result was that the two signs together now read:
Jill Gooder
Clown
Then I remembered what Kimmy had told me earlier. She’d said that they had found premises for their clown school, and that they would be able to move in straight away. I hurried back inside the building, up the stairs, and along the corridor. Sure enough, my worst fears were realised. There, on the door of what had until recently been Escape, was another temporary sign: Clown.
I knocked, but no one answered, so I tried the door, but it was locked.
“I did try to tell you about the signs, Jill,” Mrs V said.
“Have you seen the new people?”
“Yes, they seem very nice. I think they said their names were Timmy and Kimmy.”
“It’s Jimmy. Jimmy and Kimmy.”
“Do you know them, then?”
“They live across the road from me.”
“That’s nice.”
“There’s nothing nice about it. Their sign makes it look like I’m the clown.”
“They said something about opening a school.”
“It’s a clown school.”
“That sounds like fun. I’ve always loved clowns.”
Always loved clowns? What was wrong with people? “If you hear them come back, give me a shout, would you?”
“Of course, dear. Are you thinking of signing up for the clown school? You said you’d like to find an interest that you and Jack could share. Maybe you could do it together. You’d have to think of clown names, though.”
Never. Going. To. Happen.
Winky was sitting on my desk; he had a huge grin on his face.
“Don’t you dare say anything!” I threatened him.
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“One word about that sign and there’ll be no more salmon. Ever again.”
“I took a photo of the signs.” He held up his phone. “Would you like to see it?”
“No. You can delete that.”
“Whoops, too late. I seem to have shared it on all the major social media platforms.”
“Great.”
In an attempt to forget about my new neighbours and their stupid sign, I ran through the Crane case again. I now knew that Nancy and Theo had once had an affair, which had been responsible for the demise of Theo’s marriage. Was the affair still ongoing? Why had Theo lied about his Friday golf sessions? Where had he really gone every week? Was it just a coincidence that Nancy too had a regular Friday appointment at her Pilates class?
If those two were still seeing each other behind Jude’s back, was it possible they’d decided they wanted him out of the way? If so, why hadn’t Nancy simply asked for a divorce? Or were there other reasons for wanting Jude gone?
And then there was the question of where Theo had been during the weeks he’d been missing. I’d seen inside the basement where he’d supposedly been held, and it wasn’t pretty. It certainly wasn’t somewhere I’d want to spend even a day. And yet, he seemed to have come through the ordeal practically unscathed: physically and mentally. There was something else that didn’t quite ring true: His story of how he’d escaped. I’d seen the door jamb that it had supposedly taken him weeks to force; it was nothing special. I’m fairly sure I could have got out of there within a matter of days, without resorting to magic. So, why had it taken Theo so long?
And then, there was the question of the motel’s CCTV. I needed to view that for myself.
“They’re back, Jill.” Mrs V popped her head around the door. “The clown people.”
“Right, thanks.”
“Are you going to sign up for one of their classes?” Winky said. “I think you should call yourself Clueless, Clueless the clown.”
One day that cat would push his luck too far.
This time when I knocked on Clown’s door, Jimmy answered it.
“Jill? I told Kimmy that must be your office. Come on in.” I followed him into what had until recently been an escape room, but which was now already adorned with all manner of clown paraphernalia. “Kimmy! It’s Jill from across the road.”
“Hi.” Kimmy appeared from the other office. “Jimmy said he thought it was you down the corridor. Small world, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. I take it that your clown school is going to be based here?”
“We were ever so lucky.” Kimmy beamed. “Someone else had first refusal on this place, but they backed out at the last minute.”
“That was lucky.” Sigh.
“The landlord is such a nice man. He couldn’t do enough for us, could he Jimmy?”
“He’s been very helpful.”
“I wanted to ask you about the name of your business,” I said.
“We spent ages thinking about that, didn’t we, Kimmy?”
“Ages. We must have come up with a hundred different names, but then we thought, why not just call it Clown? It’s so obvious. Do you like it, Jill?”
“It’s fantastic. There’s one minor problem.”
“Oh?”
“At the moment, your temporary sign looks like it’s an extension of mine. It kind of reads:
Jill Maxwell
Clown.”
“Oh dear.” Kimmy laughed. “We hadn’t considered that.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be prepared to have a rethink on the sign, would you?”
“Rethink how?”
“Don’t bother with one?”
“We can hardly run a business if we don’t have a sign out front, can we?”
“How about a different name, then? What about Jimmy and Kimmy’s Theatrical School?”
“That wouldn’t really portray what we do or have the same ring about it.” Jimmy scratched his chin. “There is another option, though.”
“Oh?” I was open to all suggestions.
“Aren’t private investigators supposed to be secretive? If you took down your sign altogether that would make you super secretive.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Kimmy said.
Maybe not all suggestions.
***
Rhubarb Motel (I kid you not; that was its name), where the CCTV sighting had been reported, was on the outskirts of Sheffield, so once again, I used magic to get there.
“Good morning.” The young man on reception had yellow lips. “Sorry.” He took out a tissue and wiped his mouth. “I love custard, don’t you?”
“Err, it’s okay.”
“Do you have a reservation?”
“No. I’m not actually after a room. I was hoping I might speak to the manager.”
“She won’t be in until later. Is there anything I can help with?”
“Possibly. I’m a private investigator, and I was hoping to speak to whoever is responsible for your CCTV.”
“That would be me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I normally work backstage, doing all kinds of jobs. I’m only on the desk because Steve didn’t turn in this morning. What’s it in connection with?”
“I understand that someone from this motel reported
a sighting of the man who went missing in Washbridge recently.”
“That would be me, too. I felt sure the police would be over here in a flash, but then I got a phone call to say that the man had been found, so they no longer needed to view the footage.”
“I don’t suppose you still have it, do you?”
“We do. Let me see if I can get someone to watch the desk, and I’ll show you.”
“That would be great, err—sorry, I don’t know your name?”
“Arnold, but everyone calls me Tweet.”
“Tweet?”
“Yeah.”
I felt sure an explanation would be forthcoming, but none was.
“I’m Jill.”
Tweet managed to get someone to take over the desk, and then he led me through to what was obviously primarily a storage room. The CCTV screens and control console had been squeezed into one corner.
“You don’t have much room in here.”
“Tell me about it. No one gave any thought to where they’d put all this.”
He grabbed a second chair, and we squeezed in front of the console.
“That’s him.” Tweet pointed to the screen. “In that car.”
On screen, a car pulled into the car park, and a man got out. Although the images were a little fuzzy, and he was wearing a hat, which he’d pulled down in an effort to obscure his face, there was no mistaking that it was Theo Crane. He started walking towards the building, but then suddenly turned around, hurried back to the car and drove away.
“It looks like he changed his mind about checking in,” I said. “Maybe he didn’t like the look of the place.”
“It couldn’t have been that. He’d already been staying here for several weeks by the time that happened. He booked in under the name of Graham Day.”
“Did he come back later?”
“No, that was the last we saw of him. It didn’t matter to the motel because he’d paid for the room several weeks in advance.”
“By card?”
“No, by cash.”
“How come no one had recognised him during his stay?”
“There’s no reason anyone would. I doubt his photo was even shown on the local news up here. The only reason I recognised him was because I’d visited friends in Washbridge the weekend before this footage was recorded. If I hadn’t seen the local news while I was down there, I wouldn’t have recognised him either.”
“What about the belongings that were left in his room?”
“It was just clothes. We tried to contact him on the number he gave when checking in, but it was no longer in use.”
“Do you think any of the staff might remember if he ever had any visitors?”
“Your best bet would be to ask the bar staff.”
“Could you arrange for me to do that before I leave?”
“Sure.”
“I still don’t understand why he suddenly did a runner.” I sat back in the chair and stared at the screen. That’s when I spotted it. “That van. SeeYou Security Systems. Any idea who that is?”
“That’s the people who installed the CCTV. They did the external cameras first and then moved inside.”
“Does that mean the footage I’ve just seen was some of the first recorded on the new system?”
“Yes, it’s actually the first ever footage, which was recorded on the day the cameras were installed.”
“Right, thanks very much, Tweet. You’ve been a great help. If I could just have a chat with the bar staff, that would be fantastic.”
“No problem. I’m still not sure how this helps if the man was found elsewhere. I must have been mistaken; it can’t have been him, can it?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
One of the barmen did indeed remember ‘Graham Day’. He was also able to describe the woman who occasionally accompanied him to the bar.
***
I was now almost certain that Theo Crane had staged his own kidnapping, for reasons I could only guess at. Had Nancy been in on it too? My instincts said yes, but I had little by way of proof against her, and only fuzzy CCTV images of a man I believed to be Theo Crane. I needed more—much more. Ideally, a confession. From the little I knew about Theo Crane, I doubted he’d be the kind of man to simply roll over and admit his guilt. Nancy, however, was a totally different proposition.
I gave her a call.
“Nancy, it’s Jill Maxwell.”
“Oh? Have you found out who was responsible for the kidnapping?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t made much progress.”
“Oh dear. Poor Jude.”
“Is there any chance you could come by my office tomorrow morning? I’d like to at least run through what I’ve done so far.”
“Err, sure. What about Henry?”
“I’ve already spoken to him,” I lied. “He’s coming over tomorrow, but he’s tied up for most of today, so he asked if I’d contact you.”
“Oh, okay. What time?”
“Does ten work for you?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Great. See you then.”
My brain was well and truly fried, so I decided to call it a day. After magicking myself back to Washbridge, I was about to get into the car when I had a call from Kathy.
“Great news, Jill!”
“You’ve decided to call the new shop The Cheese Factory?”
“Pete’s garden won the competition!”
“That’s fantastic. The judges didn’t penalise him for the missing flowers, then?”
“No. Pete reckons they said that they were the best gardens they’d seen in the last three years. He’s thrilled to bits, as you might imagine.”
“So he should be. Tell him congratulations from me.”
“I will. Where are you anyway? Did you want to meet up for a quick coffee in town?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to get off home. This week has been crazy, and I’ve got to work on a case tonight.”
“Fair enough. Don’t forget I owe you dinner sometime.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
“Jill, before you go. Will you and Jack be at your grandmother’s surfing extravaganza on Saturday?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We’re all going. The kids saw an advert, and they’ve been pestering us to take them ever since. Do you have any idea what she has planned?”
“I dread to think.”
***
“How’s the search for an office manager going?” Jack asked, as we relaxed in the lounge.
“I’ll be interviewing next week.”
“Did you get many applications?”
“Quite a few, but only two that look promising.”
“I should quit my job, and become your office manager.”
“I’d rather give the job to Winky.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you think your cat would do a better job than I would?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter if I fall out with Winky. I’ve told you before. If you and I worked together, we’d be divorced within six months. Oh, I almost forgot. The fish man came this morning.”
“Great. I’ll have haddock for dinner tomorrow. How much do I owe you?”
“Call it twenty pounds.”
“That’ll actually be fifteen, then?”
That man knew me too well.
Chapter 27
The next morning, Jack went into work early. I’d just come out of the shower when someone hammered on the door. Who on earth was that at this time of the morning? If it was the stupid fish man again, he’d be in for a tongue lashing. I quickly checked the window, but there was no sign of the fishmobile.
Another knock; louder this time. From the upstairs windows, it wasn’t possible to see who was standing at the door, so I had no choice but to throw on some clothes, and go downstairs.
“Good morning, Jill.” Mr Hosey had a huge smile on his face. “Do you know your hair is dripping wet?”
“I’ve just stepped out of the shower
.”
“I generally only wash mine every other week. I find that helps to retain the natural oils.”
“Did you actually want something?”
“Sorry, yes. I noticed you and Jack were missing last night—busy people, I realise—so I thought I should pop over and deliver the good news.”
“Missing from what?”
“The election for chairman of the neighbourhood watch. You hadn’t forgotten, surely?”
“No, of course not. I take it that you were re-elected?”
“Indeed I was, and with an increased majority. And it’s all down to people like you. That’s why I came around—to thank you for all your support.”
“Think nothing of it, but I really must get back inside to dry my hair.”
“Of course. You might want to give some consideration to adopting the bi-weekly approach to hair washing.”
“I’ll certainly give it serious consideration.”
In truth, the only thing I was giving serious consideration to was whether or not I could get away with kidnapping Hosey and Ivers, and locking them together in a room somewhere.
***
As I approached the office building, my gaze was drawn again to that stupid sign. What kind of impression would that give to would-be clients?
Kimmy and Jimmy were hard at work, carrying more boxes of clown paraphernalia up the stairs.
“Here, let me help.” I grabbed one of the boxes.
“Are you sure, Jill?” Jimmy said. “They’re rather heavy.”
He wasn’t kidding. “It’s okay. I can manage. Whatever is in this?”
“Clown costumes and props. We’ve been keeping them in the attic and the spare bedroom. We’ll have so much more room in the house now.”
By the time I reached their premises, my shoulders felt as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. “Where shall I put this?”
“Over there, please.” Jimmy pointed. “Are you okay, Jill? You’re very red in the face.”
“I’m fine.” I was really regretting not having used the ‘power’ spell.
“Thanks, Jill.”
“No problem. While I’m here, could we have another quick chat about your sign?”
