Witch Is How Dreams Became Reality (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 32)

by Adele Abbott

  “Why do you want him? Who are you, anyway?”

  “This is something that would probably be best discussed face-to-face. Where are you?”

  “In Llandudno.”

  “That’s lucky. I’m just down the road from you, in Colwyn Bay. I could be with you in twenty minutes.”

  “Can’t you just tell me what this is all about?”

  “I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. It’s a nice day, why don’t we meet on the pier?”

  “Okay.”

  “How will I know you?”

  “I’m wearing blue overalls. I’ve only just finished work.”

  “I’ll be with you in twenty minutes.”

  Obviously, I could have magicked myself there instantly, but I figured that would freak him out. It already required a stretch of the imagination for him to believe that I just happened to be down the road in Colwyn Bay. And besides, the delay would give me time to figure out exactly how to approach this. I didn’t think that opening with the line: I think your brother is a serial killer, would exactly endear me to James.

  ***

  It had been a few years since I’d last visited Llandudno, but from what I could see it hadn’t changed that much. I’d always liked the pier, and according to the plaque I spotted, I wasn’t the only one because it had been voted Pier Of The Year in 2005.

  It wasn’t difficult to pick out James Hattersley because he was the only one wearing overalls, although I would have argued they were closer to turquoise than blue.

  “James?”

  “Yes. Jill?”

  “Shall we take a seat?” I pointed to one of the wooden benches.

  “Okay, but what’s this all about?”

  “I’m a private investigator based in Washbridge.”

  “How come you were in Colwyn Bay, then?”

  “I—err—I’m on a day trip. I’d like to speak to you about your brother and his possible connection to a case I’m working on. He used to work in Washbridge until recently, I believe?”

  “What kind of case?”

  “My client has been accused of murdering his wife.”

  “What does that have to do with Paul?”

  “Perhaps nothing, but he did visit my client’s flat a couple of weeks before the murder.”

  “That doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “You’re probably right, but the thing is, I’ve found two similar cases where a man has been convicted of his wife’s murder: One in Liverpool and one in Newcastle.”

  “So what?”

  “Your brother visited the properties in question shortly before each of the murders, and then left his job without notice shortly afterwards.”

  “That could just be a coincidence.”

  “Quite possibly. Why don’t you tell me about your brother?”

  He said nothing for the longest time, and I half expected him to stand up and walk away.

  “Paul’s younger than me by five years. Do you have siblings?”

  “An older sister, yeah.”

  “You’ll know what it’s like then. The bond, I mean. There’s nothing quite like it, is there?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Our parents weren’t good people. Drunks, both of them. Drugs too, probably. They should never have had children. Our father was a violent man even when he wasn’t drunk. He used to knock my mother about. Us too. Our mum wasn’t much better. Instead of protecting us, she took her anger out on Paul and me.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like.”

  “It only stopped when they locked him up.”

  “Your father?”

  “Yes. He went too far one night and ended up killing our mother. Paul and I were put into care. Thankfully, they kept us together.”

  “That must have been terrible for you.”

  “You might have thought so, but actually going into care was the best thing that happened to us. It meant we got away from the beatings.”

  “An experience like that must have left a psychological mark.”

  “Of course it did, but more so on Paul, I reckon. Probably because he was younger.”

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “I’ve already said too much.”

  “If you know, you have to tell me. You know you do.”

  James stood up, and I thought he was going to walk away, but instead he began to pace back and forth, lost in his own thoughts.

  “James, please! This isn’t something you can simply brush under the carpet.”

  He stopped pacing, bowed his head, and said in a voice I could barely hear, “Paul’s at my place. He moved in a couple of weeks ago. I knew something was wrong. I could sense it.”

  “Will you take me to see him?”

  “Only if you promise to let me do the talking.”

  “But, I—”

  “You have to promise.”

  “Okay.”

  We made our way off the pier in silence, and walked to James’ van, which he had parked a few streets back from the promenade.

  “Is it far?” I asked as we drove away.

  “Ten minutes. I’d better warn you: Paul isn’t in great shape. He’s not been eating properly.”

  “Okay.”

  We parked outside a terraced property that, from the exterior at least, had seen better days. I followed James inside, into the small living room which overlooked a tiny garden at the rear of the house. Seated in an old armchair, staring out of the window, was a man who was a shorter version of James. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed that Paul was the older brother.

  “Paul,” James said. “I’m back.”

  His brother didn’t seem to be alarmed by my presence. In fact, he didn’t register any emotion at all.

  “This is Jill.” James turned to me. “Take a seat, please.”

  I took the matching armchair while James sat on the sofa. Paul looked at me but didn’t speak.

  “Jill is from Washbridge, Paul. She’s just been telling me about something bad that happened while you were working there.” He waited for a reaction, but there was none, so he continued. “She also told me that something similar happened while you were working in Newcastle and Liverpool. Do you know anything about any of this?”

  Paul stared at his brother, but still showed no sign of emotion. This didn’t seem to be getting us anywhere, and I was ready to intervene.

  “I saved them,” Paul said.

  “Saved who?” I got in before James had a chance to react.

  “Are they okay?” Paul was looking at me now.

  Before I could speak again, James said, “Who are you talking about, Paul? Is who safe?”

  “The children. Are they okay?”

  “Yes, Paul.” James nodded. “They’re safe. How did you save them? What did you do?”

  It was a laborious process, but Paul eventually managed to tell us what he’d done. Including the why and the how. By the time he’d finished, he was exhausted. Moments later, his eyes closed, and he drifted off to sleep.

  James gestured that I should follow him out of the room, and then said, “What happens now?”

  “We have to call the police.”

  “What will happen to him?”

  “He’s responsible for the death of three women, and for putting three innocent men in prison.”

  “But you’ve seen the state he’s in. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

  “That will be for the courts to decide.”

  “You have to let me be the one to contact the police, Jill.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Please. I promise I’ll call them as soon as you’ve left. I want to stay with him.”

  “I doubt they’ll allow you to do that.”

  “I have to try.”

  “Okay, but I’ll check later, and if you haven’t kept your promise, I’ll contact the police myself.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

  I declined Ja
mes’ offer of a lift back to Colwyn Bay. Instead, once I was in an isolated spot, I magicked myself back to Washbridge.

  I should have been elated. Laurence Forrest would no doubt soon walk free from prison, as would two more wrongly convicted men. But how could I feel good about what had just happened?

  Paul Hattersley was a three-time murderer who had framed innocent men to cover his tracks. That was inexcusable, and he would no doubt be punished for his crimes. But having listened to the man speak, it was clear that, in his warped mind, he’d believed he was doing good. When Paul’s father had murdered his mother, Paul had been taken into care, rescuing him from the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his parents. Paul believed he was doing the same thing for those children. That was quite obviously wrong on so many levels, not least the fact that these children hadn’t been living in abusive homes.

  From all accounts, Paul Hattersley had been a model employee. Good at his job, he was diligent and well regarded. In the course of his duties, he had on three separate occasions, in three different cities, found himself in properties where the adults were arguing with one another. Nothing serious, just the kind of arguments all couples have from time to time. But it had been enough to spark terrible memories for Paul. He’d seen it as his mission to rescue the child from that environment, and he’d done that by killing the mother and framing the father. By taking something from the apartment that could later be used as a murder weapon, Paul had been able to return, commit the murder and then leave the incriminating evidence, which would eventually help to convict the innocent husband.

  It was impossible to predict how the police and courts would move forward with the case. Had Paul been of sound mind when he committed the murders? The careful planning that had gone into them suggested that he had. But then, to listen to his story, and to hear the way he himself interpreted those actions, might that not cast doubts on his competency to stand trial?

  I was pleased that I wouldn’t be the one who would have to make that decision.

  ***

  Meow!

  No, I hadn’t turned myself into a cat again. That’s where I was: At Meow! Washbridge’s new cat café. And I have to be honest, they were fantastic.

  No, not the cats. I’m talking about their muffins.

  A lot of time and money had been spent on the café, and the results spoke for themselves. The place was packed, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. If it hadn’t been for the cats, it would have been perfect. One in particular was really getting on my nerves. It kept trying to grab my muffin.

  “Get your own.” I tried to shoo it away.

  “Give us a bite, lady. Just a small piece.”

  “No. These are bad for cats. I’m doing you a favour.”

  “Sorry?” The woman sitting at the next table shot me a confused look. “Were you talking to me?”

  “No. To the cat.”

  “They’re all so darling, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah. Have you been here before?”

  “Every day since it opened. I love it here.”

  “The cats certainly seem to enjoy it.”

  “They do, but my favourite, Topsy, isn’t out today. She’s gorgeous.”

  “Maybe she’s poorly?”

  “I don’t think so. They have lots of cats, but they only allow so many into the café at a time. I suppose they must take turns, so they don’t get over-tired.”

  “Where do they keep the others?”

  “Through the back, I believe.”

  Hmm, interesting.

  So far, I hadn’t seen Lovely, Bruiser or either of Winky’s friends, but maybe they were in the back.

  I monitored the staff, and sure enough, every now and then, they would pick up one of the cats, take it through the door at the back of the café, and then a few minutes later, return with a different cat.

  When I was sure that all the staff members were out front, and occupied with customers, I slipped quietly into the back. The room was very large and contained dozens of spacious cages, resting on shelves on either side of the room. The sound of meowing in there was deafening, and I could barely hear myself think. Starting at one side of the room, I walked along the row of cages, glancing inside each one, to see if I could spot any of the missing cats.

  I had no luck on the first wall, so I crossed the room, and started to make my way back along that side. I’d just reached the last cage—still with no sign of Lovely, Bruiser or the other two—when the door opened.

  “What are you doing in here?” the man was carrying a ginger tom.

  “I—err—was looking for the toilet.”

  “It’s on the other side of the café.”

  “Oh? Okay, sorry.” I slid past him and scurried away before he could ask any more questions.

  ***

  I’d had a gruelling day, and I couldn’t wait to get home. First, though, I needed to nip into the office to feed Winky.

  Mrs V was on the point of leaving as I arrived.

  “Any messages, Mrs V?”

  “Only the one. A Mrs Rightplace phoned to say she’d tried to find our offices, but she couldn’t. I explained about the sign, but she said it didn’t matter because she’s hired another P.I.”

  “Great.”

  “I’d better get going. I’m meeting Armi—we’re going to get pizza.”

  “Very nice. Have a good weekend.”

  “Don’t you pick up your new car tomorrow, Jill?”

  “I do. I can’t wait.”

  Winky was looking skywards through his telescope, but he came over to me once I’d put out his salmon.

  “I went to the new cat café looking for your two friends, but there was no sign of them.”

  “They’re back.”

  “Since when?”

  “A couple of days ago. It seems they’d gone on a stag night which turned into a stag week and a half. From all accounts, Gemma gave Gavin hell because he hadn’t even told her he was going.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

  “I thought I had. Sorry.”

  Chapter 28

  I was staring at my bowl of cornflakes and hadn’t even heard Jack come into the kitchen.

  “Are you okay, Jill?”

  “Yeah. Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “You were quiet last night too. Is something the matter?”

  “It’s nothing. Just one of the cases I’ve been working on.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “I take it that it isn’t going well?”

  “That depends how you look at it. I’ve just saved my client’s son from being tried for his wife’s murder, and if I’m right, two other innocent men will be freed from prison very soon.”

  “That sounds like a result to me.”

  “I know, but there’s much more to it than that. Anyway, it’s the weekend; I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fair enough. You get your new car later—that should cheer you up.”

  Kathy rang.

  “Pete and I are taking the kids into Washbridge later. We thought we might as well pop along to see you get your new car. What time is the prize-giving?”

  “At eleven.”

  “At the town hall, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, we’ll see you there.”

  ***

  We were going to take Jack’s car because I’d be driving my new Jag back home. He was still looking for his favourite scarf when I made my way outside. Before I could get in the car, I spotted Lovely, sitting on next-door’s front lawn. Standing next to her was Bruiser.

  “Lovely? When did you get back?”

  “Hi, Jill. Just now.”

  “Do Britt and Kit know you’re home?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Where have you been? Everyone has been worried sick. And what are you doing with him?”

  “I think I owe you an apology,” Bruiser said. “There’s no excuse
for the way I acted towards you and—err—Wonky.”

  “It’s Winky.”

  “I hope you’ll both find it in your hearts to forgive me one day.”

  Was this cat for real? “Hang on. Have you two been somewhere together?”

  Looking rather bashful, it was Lovely who responded. “We eloped.”

  “Are you kidding me? The last I heard, you hated him.” I pointed an accusing finger at Bruiser.

  “That was before. He’s changed, Jill. Ever since the incident with the lion.”

  “Even so. Isn’t this all rather quick?”

  “We’re in love, aren’t we, Fluffykins?” She snuggled up to Bruiser.

  “We are, Lovelykins.”

  Where were the sick bags when you needed them?

  “Jill? Are you ready?” Jack, and his favourite scarf, were standing by the car.

  “I’m coming.”

  “I see the cats have come back,” he said, as we drove away. “Where had they been?”

  “Getting hitched, apparently.”

  ***

  The crowd at the town hall was bigger than I’d expected, and I was just beginning to think we wouldn’t be able to find Kathy, Peter and the kids when I heard her call.

  “Jill! We’re over here.”

  “You must be excited,” Peter said. “I’ve always fancied a Jag.”

  “I am. I can’t wait to get behind the wheel.”

  “I’ve got a rabbit, Auntie Jill,” Mikey said.

  “He’s called Flopsy.” Lizzie giggled.

  “No, he isn’t.” Mikey responded indignantly. “That’s just what you call him. His real name is Jake.”

  “But he has big floppy ears.” Lizzie insisted.

  “That’s enough, you two.” Kathy stepped in.

  “I take it you managed to rehome the canary?” I said.

  “Yeah, that friend of yours, Dorothy, took him. She said he was just like one she used to have.”

  “Great. All’s well that ends well.”

  The prize-giving ceremony began promptly at eleven o’clock, and thirty minutes later, they were just getting around to the top three prizes.

  “I don’t know why they didn’t just send out the minor prizes in the post.” I sighed.