Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  David nodded but sighed unhappily. “I have to admit that I have qualms about this. It’s not that I’m particularly religious. It’s just…”

  I grabbed David’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  He looked at me and smiled. He even gave my hand a squeeze back. For just a moment, I felt like all was right with the world. Then Shade opened his mouth.

  “Yo, I hate being the raincloud on the parade,” he said. “But we kind of need to remember that this place has got some mad protection wards to keep out folks like us.”

  Midnight meowed at his brother in disappointment. “None of which is any defense against the Flip Charm. So why don’t we go ahead and get those doors open, brother?”

  “No need, guys,” David said, pulling out a dull, pewter looking key. We looked at the chief, our mouths hanging open. CPI Trew chuckled. “I’m telling you, Talisman pulled out all the stops on this one,” he said, moving toward the door.

  “This is great,” Shade quipped. “We’ll probably get this done in a few minutes. Which is good, because I have a lady friend waiting on some midnight lovin'.” Shade gave his cheesiest grin, his teeth spilling out over his stretched lips.

  “Yeah, we don’t need to hear about how you service Ms. Poof, dude,” Midnight had his paws to his ears in mock horror.

  Before inserting the skeleton key into the lock, David turned to me.

  “Hat…I realize the timing on this could have been better. But…”

  “What is it, David?”

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting,” he admitted. “The last few days…something has just felt off.”

  “Well, you did have some serious stomach trouble.”

  David shook his head with a frown. “It’s more than just that…there’s been—“

  “Psst. Humans!” Midnight hissed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  As soon as we crossed the threshold of the church, the doors silently closed themselves behind us. It made me jump a little, and I was thankful Fraidy wasn’t here for this one.

  “It all good, boss lady,” Shade whispered in reassurance. I nodded at my handsome kitty and he and Midnight trotted off, sniffing between the pews, and in the naves. David and I followed cautiously. The reverend may turn in at 10 PM but nobody ever mentioned how sound a sleeper he was.

  The altar was an elaborate affair; dominated by the golden Celtic knot at its center. Holly twigs adorned the rest of the sheer-white marble, along with various Pagan symbols that were used for some of the church’s worship rituals. I tensed, holding a hand up to David. A faint clicking noise coming from behind the alter. My mouth went dry. David, moving slowly, flanked the aisle on the right, signalling for me to take the other side at the same time. I took my friend’s orders and tiptoed on shaky legs to the right side of the altar. Shade was there, tapping his paw on a flagstone section of the floor. The sound wasn’t quite right. It sounded hollow. Shade looked up at us, grinning.

  “Hidden trapdoor,” I said, crouching down.

  “Not so hidden. Touch it.” Shade urged.

  I patted the flagstone gently, and the illusion of solid rock dissipated almost immediately, revealing the door in question. I gave it a tug. Not the slightest bit of movement. I had a feeling this wouldn’t be easy entry.

  “So how do we get it to open?” David asked as he crouched beside me.

  “Beats me,” I said, feeling along the edges of the secret trap-door.

  David and Shade looked on with focused attention. Midnight padded over and promptly sprawled his whole body out on top of the hidden door as I was trying to find the opening. I stared at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m lying down, rolling about and being cute, why?” Midnight asked, genuinely perplexed at my line of questioning.

  “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

  “Sure, I can,” he chirped, exposing more of his fluffy tummy as he rolled and stretched.

  “Midnight!” I threatened..

  “Easy, Hat. I think your cat is just being a … cat. Maybe he just thought you were reading a newspaper or something.” David suggested.

  “Woah, chief, you got me!” Midnight was delighted at David’s acuity. “I TOTALLY thought boss-lady was reading a newspaper. Books and newspapers make the best makeshift beds!”

  “Only when they’re being read though, bro,” Shade proffered. “A book ain’t so comfy if it’s not being read at the time of lying on it, you dig, right?”

  “True dat, brother,” Midnight agreed.

  My fingers touched on something hard and metallic.

  The door sprang open, catapulting my languishing kitty high over the altar toward the central aisle of the church. We watched in mute amazement as my cat sailed skyward. Shade fell to the floor by the newly opened door, and rolled around in breathless hysterics.

  Midnight landed on all four feet. The look of surprise on his face, was pretty funny, I’ll admit. He trotted toward us, shaking his head, while Shade still rolled around on the floor clutching his stomach in a futile effort to slow his laughter. It was then I thought I saw a flash of movement from a row of pews toward the back of the chapel. I squinted into the blackness. Shadows playing tricks, nothing more. Still, I felt nervous.

  “Well, as Midnight said earlier, let’s get this show on the road,” David exhaled and dropped down into the hole in the floor. I patted my shoulders, and the kitties hopped on, and we followed my friend down into St Pen’s hidden recesses.

  We descended a short and very rickety ladder into a musty smelling chamber. My hands brushed against the walls trying to find illumination. My finger found a light switch and I flipped it, making sure the door above us was closed, so it wouldn’t cast out any telltale light.

  Instead of regular bulbs an army of flame torches lit the room, revealing a treasure store of ancient books, strange alchemical apparatus, and all manner of relics, some showcased in glass containers. I wandered over to one of the glass cases to look over its contents. David and the cats moved further into the room. I heard a squeak of old hinges, and a draft moved my hair ever so slightly.

  “Guys! Don’t touch anything! I cautioned, thinking that one of my nosy cats had opened something they shouldn’t have.

  Movement from the corner of my eye again, and as I turned, an inky black shadow fell over me. I grabbed the case for support as my legs nearly gave way. I fumbled for my wand, hoping it might offer me some protection, but the pool of shadow was upon me then. Gripping my arm in an icy, deathly grip. I think I just peed my pants a little, and drooled, but I can’t be sure. The shadow’s features came into view, at last, and I was standing face to face with Portia Fearwyn.

  “Por--”

  A manly arm shot from behind the old witch, and, before realizing who it was, David wrangled Portia Fearwyn into a rather ungainly headlock.

  “You idiot,” she croaked, as David applied pressure against who he thought was my assailant’s windpipe.

  “P-Portia?” He queried, letting the witch go almost immediately. “What are you doing here, for Goddess’ sake?”

  “Who do you think signed for the no-knock warrant, Chief Para Inspector?” Portia spat, rubbing her throat.

  “So you’re here for the same reason we are,” I deduced. “To see what Morag may have hid down here.”

  Portia frowned. “I am not saying that you are incorrect, Hattie. But what would have led you to believe that—“

  “Your argument with Morag in the church upstairs. It could have been about anything but given that she was seen later poking around in these vaults…” I gave the Witch Fearwyn a sheepish grin.

  Portia nodded and glanced around the vault “Let us just say, for the time being, that we had a serious disagreement regarding that object’s safety and that, despite my probing, I still have no idea what she wanted to hide.”

  “But you think it’s here,” David s
aid.

  “Possibly. I had planned to use my Ombra enchantment to quietly slide down here through the door cracks. I wasn’t expecting to meet you at the same time.”

  “And, can you tell us exactly what ‘it’ is?” David pushed.

  “No. I cannot.” Her words offered no bargaining chip.

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “I have given you my answer, CPI Trew. Now I suggest we start searching and get this over with.”

  We spent the next half hour scouring every inch of the vault. We checked the cases for any signs of tampering, and we carefully leafed through every volume in the chamber, hoping to find the hidden ‘thing’ that Morag had hinted at before she was murdered.

  A heavy iron door sealed off access to the next level. It was more than just the heavy metal blocking it. Midnight figured out that the enchantments were both old and specifically designed to counter Fae magic. There was a reason the security in these chambers was legendary.

  Portia took a look at the door and shook her head. “This is far beyond anything I could counter. Morag was a less competent caster than I. So I doubt that she would have had any more luck in getting in.”

  David shook his head. “Looks like this is a dead end.”

  “Oi! What’s this about, then?” a female voice barked upstairs. The sound of it made Portia glower back at our exit.

  “Blanche Henpeck,” she whispered. “Not the best timing for one of her insomnia episodes.”

  “I spends all this time cleaning,” Blanche said, her voice getting alarmingly close to the door. “Polishin’ up them pews just so, waxin’ the floor till me fingers is raw and wipin’ down them windows from all that dust and grime…but does I ever complain ‘bout that?”

  “Is that a trick question?” Midnight muttered. I jammed my finger in front of my lips in and glared at him.

  “No, I don’t,” Blanche continued her solo tirade. “But now some bloke or lassie gots to leave the ruddy trapdoor open when the good reverend ain’t lookin’. Bleedin’ insult, it is…who knows what kind of thieves might go down there if someone weren’t lookin’?”

  Then she hummed and added, “You know…come to think on it, maybe someone’s down there now.”

  We all tensed.. The last thing we needed was to get caught by a freaking cleaning lady, and then have the good vicar involved in this sinister case. Then suddenly she laughed and said, “Are you bleedin’ cracked, girl? You’s been readin’ too many a’ the vicar’s Father Brown books. aint no one there, …just careless folk what left the door open. Let’s shut ‘er up and be done wit’ it.”

  The door was closed with a thud and the lock slid back into place a second after. Either the door was thick enough or the enchantments strong enough to blot out any more of Blanche’s monologue.

  “Midnight?” I asked. “Could the Flip Charm—“

  “Not from in here,” Midnight said glumly. “With the door closed, the wards are way too strong for it.”

  “Anyone see another door in their travels?” David queried.

  “Bast!” Shade cried. “Ms. Poof is gonna be hollerin’ and scratchin’ tonight, that’s for sure.” He shook his furry head regretfully.

  Portia cleared her throat. I could tell that she didn’t like what she was about to say or do. “Everyone, gather around me.” We stared at her. “Quickly,” she warned.

  David looked repulsed at the idea of getting too close to Portia. “How close do we need to be?”

  “Touching shoulders. The cats should be on yours to make this work for them.”

  “Dibs on the boss!” Shade said as he enthusiastically climbed my back, his needling claws piercing my skin as he advanced.

  I love my kitty, I love my kitty, I thought through the pain. David, seeing my discomfort, squatted next to Midnight and scooped him up, plopping him atop his broad, muscular shoulders.

  I’m…not really sure what happened next. I remember descending into this pool of darkness as Portia cast her spell. The next thing I know, were tumbling through a void of black; a cosmic tar-pit that didn’t seem to have a bottom. Shade nuzzled his face into mine as we fell. Thank goodness he was with me; I felt about one percent less terrified with my fuzzy friend close by.

  I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, we were all standing at the edge of the wood at the bottom of the hill. Portia doubled over suddenly, wheezing in exhaustion or pain, we couldn’t tell. The chief instinctively grabbed her arm to steady her, but Lady Fearwyn swatted his hand away.

  “I’m quite fine, Chief Para Inspector,” she managed. “Taking that many passengers just brought me to my limits that’s all. Nothing fatal.” She snapped her fingers three times in short succession and a riderless broom came flying through the night toward us. It halted right in front of its mistress. She grabbed it and gave us a sideward glance.

  “I trust you can find your way home?”

  “Um, actually, I wonder if you’re heading toward the dunes? There’s somewhere I gotta be. Like half an hour ago.” Shade didn’t wait for a response but just hopped on the end of Portia’s besom. The old witch shook her head and pushed off. Shade turned round on the broom to look at us. He gave us a deep bow, his paw affecting a thespian flourish as he bowed his head.

  That cat.

  Chapter 8

  My head felt a little foggy the following morning. I was so out of it that Millie asked me if I was affected by a sleeping curse similar to the one she’d overcome the previous month. It was a relief when David called to propose a check-in on Infirma at her estate on Cathedral. I didn’t have any deliveries that day, and I felt in no shape to deal with over-the-counter queries. I was in the kitchen making a pot of fennel tea when Millie came in through the back door.

  “Just in time. Tea?” I smiled wearily at my assistant. She pushed her nose into the air and sniffed the licorice aroma wafting there, courtesy of the fennel.

  “I’d love one, thanks. Smells delish."

  “Won’t blacken your teeth, either,” I muttered, more to myself than Mille.

  "You okay? You look tired,” my friend noted with a degree of concern.

  “Bad sleep,” I confessed. “There are no deliveries today, so I’m going to head out with David to see if Infirma’s holding up okay. You be alright to hold the fort?”

  “Yeah, I think you could definitely do with some fresh air.” Millie squeezed my shoulder and hung up her bag by the door. “I’ll be fine here, boss. Go and do what you need to do.”

  “Millie, you’re the best,” I said. I meant it. This woman, so positive all the time, was a real nugget of gold.

  “Think nothing of it,” she waved a hand at me. “Oh, it’s eight-thirty, I’ll go open up while you finish off the tea.”

  Onyx padded in. He leaped up onto the table. “Good morning, Hattie,” my head kitty took a bow.

  “Well, hello, sunshine,” I responded, decanting the hot water into the waiting pot. “You know, I’m looking for volunteers for my outing to Cathedral shortly. I’d love it if you came along?” I raised my eyebrows at the wisest of my cats.

  “I believe Carbon will be a more suitable companion today,” he stated simply, and with that, he padded away saying nothing more.

  “Suit yourself,” I mumbled to myself while I poured the tea.

  “Hattie! You might want to see this,” Millie hollered from the front.

  I rushed from the kitchen through to the shop. My assistant stood looking down over a tumbled herb jar. Glass and sprigs of dried greenery skittered across the floor. "Looks like someone needed a hit last night, and decided his prescribed dose wasn’t enough.” Millie took a dustpan and began sweeping up the debris.

  “Where is he?”

  “Haven’t seen him,” Millie answered, looking at ground level to see if she could spot four guilty paws.

  “Jet!” I shouted.

  A movement on the top shelf caught my eye. Just the tip of a tail, flicking silently from behind the fully-stocked calendula jar.
>
  “I can see you,” I narrowed my eyes at my mostly concealed cat.

  “Oh! Hi, boss!” A coal black face popped out from the side of the glass container of dried flowers. “I was just up here … you know … chasing dust bunnies.” Jet’s face broke into a sheepish grin.

  “What’s this, buddy?” I growled pointing to the mess Millie was fussing over.

  “That? Oh, that! Yeah, I was gonna tell you about that, actually,” he began, coming out from hiding now. “I hurt my toe.” He said.

  “And?”

  “Catnip helps hurting toes. They’re better now, see?” He bounced up and down in place on the shelf.

  “Jet, catnip doesn’t help hurting toes,”

  “Oh, that’s right, it doesn’t. Sorry, I got a bit confused there.” My speedy cat snickered nervously. “It was a headache. I had a headache,”

  “Are you for real?”

  “Indigestion?” He asked, hopefully.

  “Jet!”

  My zippy kitty ducked his head, hanging it on his chest, but looking craftily out of the top of his eyes, to measure my ire.

  “Sorry, boss,” he conceded. “I just felt like I needed a boost, you know?”

  “Sweetie, you’re as high as a kite,” I sighed.

  “Well, on the bright side,” he beamed. “I’m dosed up enough for a day trip to the outside world!” Honestly, you just couldn’t stay mad for long.

  “Be outside in ten minutes.” Jet looked at me, his front paw raised, but unsure as to whether he should actually take a step. “Go!” I commanded. My zippy cat scarpered out toward the kitchen.

  “Carbon, wake up. We’re going on a ride,” I nudged my fireside cat with a toe.

  “Alright, alright!” He snapped. Carbon didn’t like being ripped away from his warm spot.

  “C’mon, buddy, let’s go,” I swept past him and joined Jet in the kitchen. I grabbed a few bits and pieces and opened the back door. Jet bounced out and paced back and forth next to the broom while we waited for his brother.