I pushed down my curiosity, and met her eyes. ‘We’re not here to talk about the Berrys, Justine. We’re here to talk about the Dark Team.’
‘Well, I’m not going to tell you anything about the Dark Team.’ The smirk spread right across her face. ‘But you’ll quite likely get to know them all on a one-to-one level very soon, Wanda. Before they kill you.’
My mother glared at Justine. ‘Are you threatening my daughter? It’s extra time for threatening the law, as you well know.’
She met my mother’s glare with her widest smirk yet. ‘I’m threatening no one, Beatrice. I’m merely stating the facts as I believe them. Up until the wonderful Wanda discovered Facility B and had me thrown in here, Kilian Berry and I had a deal. I was going to get his conviction overturned. I was going to set him free. But now that I’m in here, that can no longer happen. And it looks like Kilian is very angry about the change of plans. If he’s angry enough to throw a chair at his own beloved son and heir, what do you think he’s going to do to you, Wanda?’
My mother took my hand in hers and narrowed her eyes. ‘He’s not going to do anything, Justine. Because just like you, he’s stuck in Witchfield. But you know what? I don’t believe your little story, anyway. Kilian Berry was a mass murderer. There’s no technicality that can overturn that.’
‘Sure there is. He was apprehended by a bunch of Wayfairs who hadn’t declared themselves Wayfairs. Gabriel Godbody, Agatha Oster, Ronnie Plimpton ... the list goes on. They were all working secretly for you at the time. None of them had been approved by my department. Therefore, none of them had the right to make an arrest.’
‘They were overseen by me and Christine,’ my mother said. ‘We have the power to deputise anyone we want in case of an emergency.’
‘You do, that’s true. But afterwards you need to file quite a lot of reports on the matter. And unfortunately, no such reports were ever filed.’
‘They were filed,’ my mother growled. ‘You know full well that they were filed. We handed them to you.’
Justine shrugged. ‘Funny, I have no recollection of that. But there’s no point getting yourself all overheated about it, Beatrice. Kilian’s release isn’t going to happen anymore, because I’m in here. Which is why he’s so very, very angry with your little Wanda. So angry that he might just call in the Dark Team.’ She sat forward, her eyes on mine. ‘You’re stacking the enemies up faster than you can count, Wanda. If I were you, I’d be on my guard.’
A bell sounded throughout the room, and she sat back again. ‘Oh, would you look at that? Visiting time is over. Well, wish Aengus a Merry Solstice from me, Beatrice. And while you’re at it, tell him that I think of our many years together as often as I can.’
≈
When we left Witchfield, my mother came back to Westerly Crescent with me. She said she wanted to look at the Christmas decorations, but I think she just needed to clear her head before she went home. As soon as we appeared in the hallway, Dizzy flew into my arms. ‘The mice are crying,’ he said worriedly. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
I rushed into the living room, where the mice were curled up on the couch, looking miserable. I’d dropped them off home before I went to the prison, thinking that they could do with a rest. Now I wished I’d kept them in my pocket.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked, gathering them into my arms. ‘I mean, other than the obvious.’
Curly sniffled. ‘We’re just upset with ourselves. We’re letting Winnie down. What’s the point of a Wayfarer who dead witches’ familiars are drawn to, if those familiars can’t even help her solve the murder?’
Oh dear. I would need to choose my words very carefully. I settled them back on the couch. ‘Out of all the familiars who’ve come to me when their witch was killed,’ I said, ‘not a single one could tell me who the murderer was. But guess what? All of those familiars did help me track down who killed their witch. And all of those murderers are in Witchfield now, thanks to them. Just like Winnie’s murderer will be, thanks to all of you.’
‘It’s true.’ Dizzy nodded. ‘I actively went out of my way not to tell Wanda who murdered Harry Berry, because I was afraid she’d get hurt by Kilian. But she found him anyway. And no one got hurt. Well, except all those witches Kilian Berry murdered. But still. I know that Wanda can seem like she has her mind on nothing but where her next slice of apple tart is coming from, but trust me – she has her ways. You might not think you’re being very helpful, but everything you’ve told her matters. She’ll piece it together. You’ll see.’
Curly looked a little mollified, but Big Ears and Dumpling still seemed unconvinced.
‘Tell you what,’ said Dizzy. ‘How about I share some of my mango with you? Nothing like a dose of fructose to get the old grey cells running. Then the four of us can brainstorm, and see if there’s anything else that you can remember about the murder.’
He flew into the kitchen and the mice followed, sniffing their way behind him. His fruity smell really must be strong, because they didn’t bump into a single thing along the way. Once I was satisfied that they were all okay, I sat down with my mother.
I could see her smiling at the Christmas tree. ‘I like the star on top,’ she said. ‘Are there presents in all of those boxes or are some of them just empty boxes wrapped up?’
‘Presents in every single one,’ I said. ‘See that pink one? That’s one of yours. But you’ll have to wait till tomorrow night to open it.’ I sighed, thinking of all the presents that had been wrapped on Winnie’s table. She’d never get to see her daughter or her grandchildren open a single one. ‘Has Christine been keeping you up to date on the Winnie Wywood case?’
‘She has.’ My mother frowned. ‘She hasn’t found anything in her scrying bowls, though. I wish I could spend more time helping, but I’m afraid to leave your dad on his own for too long. He’s not coping as well as he pretends. His sessions aren’t helping at all. Whoever this Dark Team might be, they’re extremely good at what they do. I don’t think a healer is going to be able to crack the memory of the day he was kidnapped. I think we need to get someone with a better knowledge of vampires on the job. I was thinking about your Gabriel. He helped Melissa when she was trying to cope with her own dark powers. I know this is a different situation, but maybe he could help.’
I shrank back on the couch. Gabriel had vampire ancestry, and although he had no telepathic or hypnotic skills himself, he was an expert in how to test for, and how to deal with, those kind of vampire influences. I wasn’t sure if his expertise stretched quite as far as my father would need, but even if it did, the thought made me uncomfortable. Anyone who could speak to Max the way Gabriel had the night before wasn’t someone I wanted fishing around in my father’s brain.
‘Maybe not Gabriel,’ I said. ‘Y’know, Melissa’s power is really strong. She resisted being compelled at the Everest Climb. And she took some of my memories away and gave them back. Maybe she could help Dad.’
My mother’s face lit up, and then fell again. ‘She could, if she had a minute to herself. Do you know where she is right now? Organising Mr Rundt’s wardrobe, that’s where. After which she’ll be doing his end of year expenses. She came out the top of her class, Wanda. She deserves so much better than this.’
I was about to agree wholeheartedly, when I heard a key turn in the front door. ‘That’ll be Max.’
‘Wanda!’ Max called out. ‘You home? I brought Indian food.’
My eyes widened and I began to salivate. ‘I love you!’ I called out. ‘Did I ever tell you that? Hey, my mam is here too. Is there enough to go round?’
He poked his head around the living room door and smiled at my mother. ‘Hi, Beatrice. Of course there’s enough. I always get way more than we need. On account of Wanda thinking she can cram in way more rice and samosas than she actually can. I’ll dish up and then I’ll bring it in here.’
As he trundled off to the kitchen, my mother nudged me. ‘Your father likes him. A lot. To be honest, I don�
�t think he would have settled back in at all if it wasn’t for all the time Max spends with him. He loves their chess games.’
‘So does Max.’ I smiled and stood up. ‘I’ll go pour the drinks. Wine, beer, juice or water?’
‘I’ll have wine. Just a small one, though. Don’t want to go home drunk to your poor father!’
Just as I’d begun to pour, my phone began to buzz. I glanced at my screen and read the message that Finn had just sent me:
Mr Godbody’s Gamekeeper has just got in touch. Says he forgot to mention something important when I questioned him last night. He says he saw Mrs Dove leaving Winnie’s house on the day of the murder!
I looked down at the curry that Max was spooning onto plates, and almost cried. ‘I have to go,’ I said, ignoring the rumble in my stomach. ‘Much as I want to stuff my face with spicy potatoes, I’ve got to help question a witness.’
≈
As I sat across from Alf Owens, the gamekeeper of Gabriel Godbody the Twentieth, I found myself wondering what century – and what country – I was in. He had the mannerisms of a gamekeeper from an English country house in the 1920s, right down to his accent. He only looked about thirty, and he was wearing a flat cap, neat shirt beneath a waistcoat, and a pair of clean wellies (maybe they were his special occasion ones?). And to complete the picture, he had a pipe sticking out of his breast pocket.
‘So you just forgot that you’d seen Mrs Dove running away from Winnie’s house looking upset. Quite a thing to forget,’ said Finn.
Alf shook his head. ‘Not really. See, Mrs Dove visited Winnie a lot. And she usually looked upset when she was leaving. A bit highly strung, that one. When you came to my smoking shed you asked me if I’d seen anything unusual, and I said I hadn’t. Because I hadn’t. Like I say, Mrs Dove is there all the time, and always having a fit over something or other by the time she leaves.’
I pushed a cup of tea across to him – extremely strong, with two sugars, as per his request. ‘But like Finn said, you totally forgot to mention this when he interviewed you in your smoking shed. So if this happened all the time, then what makes you so sure, now, that it was definitely the day of the murder? And what put it into your head all of a sudden?’
He slurped his tea and shrugged. ‘I were capturing a dove for Mr Godbody’s supper, so I were, when it come back to me. The way the thing wriggled, all upset like, afore I broke its neck. And you asked how I know it were on the day of the murder? I know, because a few minutes afore Mrs Dove run out, I heard Winnie scream.’
I looked at Finn. I had to. I had to know that I wasn’t the only one who found Alf Owens just as odd as his boss. Judging by his expression, I wasn’t alone.
‘You never mentioned a scream when I spoke to you before, Mr Owens,’ said Finn through clenched teeth.
‘Mentioning it now, aren’t I? Listen, can I get off? Mr Godbody wants a goose for his Solstice supper, and I haven’t even strangled one yet let alone plucked the thing.’
≈
‘So what do we do?’ Finn asked. We were standing on the steps of the Wyrd Court, watching Alf Owens ride his broom away. It was a wizard broom, and he clearly had it set to hyper-speed, because he was out of sight in a second.
‘We go and question Mrs Dove, I guess.’
Finn groaned. ‘It’s six o’clock in the morning and we’ve been up all night. This is not how I thought I’d be spending the morning of Solstice. We’re going to be knackered by the time the bonfire starts this evening. We’ll probably fall asleep at the ball.’
‘Oh well, look on the bright side. Everyone will be wearing the exact same golden robes tonight, and they’ll all have masks on. No one will be able to tell that it’s you who’s fallen asleep by the canapés and me who’s snoozing by the punch.’
He laughed tiredly. ‘Nothing’s going to get you down right now, is it? I bet if you were human you’d even believe in Santa.’
‘I might not be human, but duh on believing in Santa Clause. He’s totally real,’ I told him. ‘I mean, why wouldn’t a witch believe in Santa? He might even be a witch. Just one who’s gotten sick of the rest of us and is actually doing something useful with his magic.’
‘Okay, Little Miss Holiday Spirit. Well, where do you think we’ll find her? Still at home? Or maybe she’s come to her senses and gone to spend the holiday with her son?’
With a sad sigh, I said, ‘She’ll be at home. I’d like to think otherwise, but–’ I broke off as my phone began to ring. A look at the screen told me it was Max. ‘Gotta take this, Finn. I’ll just be a sec.’
‘Hey Wanda,’ Max said when I answered. ‘Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got to pop into the Water Bowl before I head to Wayfarers’ Rest. Lady’s got a cold, and Rover’s away, so I’m going to take care of the morning tofu delivery. I’m going to bring her some of that Pick me Up potion and do her morning shift, too.’ He shivered. ‘But Emily Caulfield said she’ll come collect me from the Water Bowl later on, and then take me to Riddler’s Cove, so you don’t need to worry about how I’m going to get there. Of course, I might well freeze first on my way to the Water Bowl and never make it to Wayfarers’ Rest at all.’
‘You haven’t found your winter woollies?’
‘No. I thought I had some others lying around, but Wolfie’s gone and chewed through them all. I em ... I tried on a couple of your hats and gloves, but it turns out your head and hands are a lot smaller than mine. And your scarves all stink of perfume. Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.’
‘Wait, Max! Look, I know you want to open all your presents on Christmas, but it is Solstice morning, and Solstice is when witches give gifts. So open the one with the purple wrapping paper before you go. I think you’ll find something to keep you warm inside.’
I listened while he ran to the tree and ripped open the paper. A moment later, he said, ‘I love you, Wanda.’
‘Love you too, Maxie. See you at dinner this evening.’
As I hung up, Finn was busy rolling his eyes. ‘You two. I swear you’re joined at the hip.’
‘Yeah, well at least I know how to tell a weredog I love him. Spoken to Lassie lately?’
He pursed his lips. ‘I suppose I deserved that. Come on. Let’s get to Mrs Dove’s. Maybe she’ll make us some coffee while we’re accusing her of murder.’
14. When Doves Cry
Once again, Mrs Dove took a long time to open her door. And once again, when she finally opened it, she was crying.
‘Wanda!’ She gave me a wild-eyed smile. ‘And here was me thinking no one would come to visit me for Solstice. My son and his family will be having a lovely day together, no doubt. They’ll eat their dinner together this evening, then go off to the bonfire without me.’
I tried to look sympathetic, but right now I wasn’t sure whether I was looking at a murderer, or a woman who just felt sorry for herself. ‘Mrs Dove, can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.’
She stepped back and opened the door wide. ‘Of course, of course. I’ll make you some tea. Or mulled wine. That’s more fitting. I’ll make you mulled wine.’
As we followed her to the kitchen, Finn said, ‘No wine for us, Mrs Dove. It’s a bit early. Maybe some coffee?’
‘Of course!’ She rushed off to the coffee pot. ‘I have some made already. I’ve been up all night, waiting for my son to call. I’ve lost count of how many cups I’ve had to drink.’
While she was turned away, I prodded Finn in the arm and hissed, ‘I thought you were joking about the coffee! We could be about to arrest this woman and you ask her to make us coffee!’
‘Yeah, well, I can’t keep my eyes open right now. And if she is a murderer, then I’m sure not going to feel sorry for her.’
She poured our drinks with a shaky hand, then grabbed a box of tissues and joined us at the table.
‘Listen to you two, whispering together like the best of friends,’ she said as she wiped her eyes. ‘I wish I had someone I could whispe
r with.’
As Finn took a sip of his coffee, his face contorted. ‘This is strong enough to wake the dead!’ he gasped, before finishing it in a few big gulps and pushing the cup away. ‘Look, it’s Solstice, like you say, so we’ll just get to the point. Mrs Dove, a witness saw you leaving Winnie’s house on the day of the murder. Were you there?’
She blew her nose before answering. ‘Yes. Yes I was there. I’m sorry that I lied to you, Wanda. I just ... I had to speak to Winnie about something. She had taken something of mine the day before, and I wanted it back.’
‘Yes, we’ve heard that you were arguing about something in the days before her death,’ I said. ‘What was it, Mrs Dove? What did you want back?’
She blew her nose again. ‘It doesn’t matter now. That’s all over. I’d rather just forget about it.’ She stood up and pointed at the door. ‘Can you leave now, please? I don’t want to speak with you people anymore.’
‘What is it with you Crafty Ladies?’ Finn cocked a brow. ‘You seem to think you can dictate whether you will or won’t cooperate. It doesn’t work like that, Mrs Dove.’
She began to tear her tissue into countless tiny pieces, letting it fall all over the floor, while she glared at Finn. ‘Well, I’m not surprised to hear you say that. Peacemakers are bullies. Everyone knows that.’
Finn looked on the verge of exploding, so I put a hand to his arm and sat forward. ‘Listen, Finn and I are all for a police force that works for the people, Mrs Dove. We’ve both had it up to here with the way the Peacemakers used to operate. Bullying victims. Coercing witnesses. But just because we want things to operate fairly does not mean we’re pushovers. We need you to tell us what you and Winnie argued about, Mrs Dove. Now, please.’
She threw what was left of her tissue aside, then stood behind her chair, gripping to it with shaking hands. Her tears were coming fast. ‘I’m not telling you anything. I don’t have to tell you anything, no matter what you say. I’m ashamed of it, all right? So I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to tell anyone. Winnie was right. In the end, I knew she was right. And I just want to forget about it. I just ... I just want to forget!’
Wrapping Up Page 9
