by Adele Abbott
“I can see that.”
“So, the business must be doing better?”
“There are two sides to the equation. The money you bring in, and the money you spend. Your income has gone up, but so have your expenses.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Think about it. Fishing rods, books on hypnosis, and clown costumes—need I go on?”
“I guess not.”
“You really must get a better grip on your outgoings, Jill.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Okay. Look, I was wondering if you and Jack would like to have dinner with Maria and me sometime?”
“Sure. I’ll check with Jack, and give you a call to sort something out.”
As soon as Luther had left, I went over and nudged Winky.
“What’s up?” He yawned.
“I told you not to charge stuff to my credit card.”
“You said I shouldn’t use your personal credit card, and I didn’t. I’ve been using your business credit card, instead.”
***
I called it a day, and drove home to Smallwash. I was just about to go into the house when Blake called me over.
“Jill, I’ve been keeping an eye on Kilbride like you asked me to.”
“Oh, sorry, Blake. I should have told you. It turned out that he isn’t the witchfinder after all. I’ve been so busy that I totally forgot to let you know.”
“Who was it then?”
“One of the instructors at the health club that’s in the same building as my offices.”
“How did you work out it was him?”
“I spotted the tattoo on the nape of his neck—just before he attacked me.”
Blake looked horrified. “How did you manage to get away?”
“I was very lucky. I thought I was a goner, but then my cat came to the rescue.”
“Your cat?”
“Yeah. I was lying on the floor, waiting for the witchfinder to finish me off when Winky threw me a syringe filled with Brewflower. I managed to stab the witchfinder in the thigh, and that did for him. But it was a close call.”
“Wow! Thank goodness, you’re okay. Kilbride might not be the witchfinder, but he’s still seriously strange. There’s something about him I just don’t trust. I’ve heard those noises that your next-door neighbour mentioned. It’s a kind of high-pitched wailing sound—like a small animal being strangled.”
“Maybe we should continue to keep an eye on him,” I suggested. “After all, he did tell me that he works in the occult business.”
“You’re right. I’ll let you know if I spot anything else suspicious.”
***
“Why were you in West Chipping today?” Jack asked over dinner.
Oh bum. I hadn’t realised he’d seen me there.
“I was meeting with a prospective new client about a marital issue. He wanted to meet with me away from Washbridge because he was worried we might bump into his wife.”
“You were in Coffee Octagon when I saw you, but you weren’t with a man; you were with a young woman.”
Oh double-bum. What an idiot I was. I’d assumed Jack had seen me when I was alone, en route to the coffee shop.
“Oh, yeah. That was his secretary.”
“His secretary?” Jack looked puzzled. Very puzzled. And who could blame him?
“It’s all rather complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
Think, Jill! How are you going to talk yourself out of this colossal mess?
“The would-be client got cold feet at the last minute. He was worried his wife might still spot him, even in West Chipping, so he sent his secretary to relay the information to me.”
“Let me get this straight.” Jack still looked confused. “This man asked his secretary to meet with you to discuss his wife’s affair?”
“Precisely. You should have come in and said ‘hello’.”
“I didn’t like to because you were with someone, and I suspected it might be related to a case. And besides, I was busy at the time. Did you end up taking the case?”
“No. It was way too convoluted.”
“Yeah, sounds like it.”
Time to change the subject. “Do you remember my accountant?”
“The murderer?”
“Not Robert Roberts. My current accountant, Luther Stone. The guy who lives in the apartment block where I used to live.”
“Oh yes. I remember him.”
“He came to the office today to do my books.”
“How are they looking?”
“Pretty good. All things considered.”
“All things considered? What does that mean, exactly?”
“I don’t want to bore you with the details.”
“Go on. I’m interested.”
Oh bum!
“Difficult trading conditions, exchange rates, bear markets—it’s all very complicated.”
“But you’ve made a profit?”
“A profit?” I laughed. “Jack, you clearly don’t understand business. No one makes a profit anymore.”
“They don’t? I thought that was the whole point of a business?”
“Not these days. It’s all about the balance sheet.”
“It is?”
“Definitely. And mine is so balanced, you wouldn’t believe it. Anyway, as I was saying, Luther asked if you and I might like to go for dinner with him and his new girlfriend, Maria.”
“Spend an evening with an accountant? Aren’t they all deadly boring?”
“No, Luther’s okay. What do you say?”
“Sure. Why not? Maybe he’ll be able to explain how your business is doing a little better than you have.”
Oh, bumty bum!
Chapter 4
It was Kathy’s day off, and she’d asked me to call in for a drink on my way into work. It wasn’t like her to invite me out of the blue like that, and I suspected she wanted something.
“Eighty pounds!” I said when she answered the door.
“Sorry?”
“For those stupid tickets. Couldn’t you at least have given us a discount?”
“I told Jack to give us sixty pounds for them, but he insisted on paying the full amount.”
What was wrong with that man?
“So, why did you really ask me over?”
“Can’t I invite my sister over without having an ulterior motive?”
“You could, but I doubt you have.”
“You’re way too suspicious. Must be that job of yours. Tea?”
“Coffee, please. I need something to wake me up.”
We settled down in the lounge with our drinks.
“That neighbour of yours is still giving me grief,” Kathy said.
“Megan? Has she poached some more of Peter’s customers?”
“Not as far as I know, but then I doubt he’d tell me if she had. He knows how annoyed I’d be, and probably thinks I’d do something stupid.”
“Like painting over her van?”
“I don’t regret doing that.”
“I regret you doing that. It got me in a whole heap of trouble. So, if she hasn’t stolen more of his customers, why are you so angry with her?”
“She telephoned last night, and asked Pete if he’d like to go out for dinner with her. Apparently, she wants to thank him for all the advice he’s given her.”
“That sounds like a nice gesture.”
“Really?” Kathy glared at me. “So, if some attractive young woman phoned Jack, and asked him to go out for dinner, you’d be okay with that, would you?”
“Point taken. What did Peter say?”
“What do you think he said? He couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. So, now I’m not speaking to him.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Megan has got herself a new boyfriend. His name’s Harry. He and Megan came to dinner at our house the other day. He’s a good-looking guy, but he’s really boring, and very vain. He spent nearly all evening checking himsel
f out in the mirror.”
“Like you do, you mean?”
“I do not.”
“You spend more time looking at the mirror than the evil queen in Snow White does.”
“Rubbish.” I pushed a stray hair behind my ear.
“You do realise that you’re staring at the mirror right now?” Kathy grinned.
“Why did you ask me over?”
“For a chat. Why else?”
A likely story.
“Is he a model?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Megan’s boyfriend.”
“I don’t think so. I did try to find out what he does for a living, but he sidestepped the subject several times. I didn’t like him; she could do much better.” I held up my cup. “How about a top-up?”
“Help yourself. I need to check my emails.” Kathy started fiddling around on her smartphone.
“What’s so urgent that you need to check your emails at this time of the morning?” I poured myself another cup of coffee.
“Didn’t I tell you? I’ve handed in my notice at Wool TV.”
“I thought you loved that job.”
“I did, but after the Lucinda Gray incident, all of the joy went out of it for me. I realised it’s not what I want to do with my life. I’ve got enough on working at Ever, and looking after Pete and the kids. I don’t need the added responsibility.”
“Does that mean Mrs V will lose her part-time job at Ever?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so. Now that your grandmother has opened the roof terrace, the shop is even busier, so I suspect that she’ll keep Mrs V on.”
“Oh well, I suppose I’d better get off.” I downed the rest of my coffee.
“Just a second, Jill. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
Here we go.
“I might have known. What do you want this time?”
“This Saturday, both of the kids have got things happening. The problem is, Pete’s already committed to working that day, so I wondered if you could help me out with one of them?”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Mikey is taking part in a drumathon.”
“Is that what it sounds like?”
“Yeah. It’s a marathon session of drumming. He and nine other kids are going to be playing the drums from ten o’clock in the morning until five o’clock in the afternoon. They’re being sponsored, and all funds go to charity.”
“Ten kids in the same room, playing drums for seven hours?”
“Only six. They get an hour’s lunch break.”
“Oh, well, that’s not so bad then.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you crazy?”
“Sounds great, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds like a nightmare. What is Lizzie doing on that day?”
“Do you remember when the kids came around to your place, and Lizzie said she’d seen a lady dressed in white?”
I hadn’t forgotten, but I’d been hoping that Lizzie had. She’d walked into the kitchen when I was talking to my mother’s ghost. Somehow, Lizzie had been able to see her.
“Yeah, she’d been dreaming, hadn’t she?” I said.
“Probably, but ever since then, Lizzie has been obsessed with ghosts. She talks about them all the time. She even said that she’d seen a ghost at her school—a young girl, apparently.”
“It’s probably just a phase. She’ll soon move onto something else.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling myself, but now she’s seen an advert for a ghost tour of Washbridge this Saturday, and has been pestering me to let her go on it.”
“Are there any ghosts in Washbridge?”
“Apparently. Anyway, I gave in and said she could go, but I’d totally forgotten about Mikey’s drumathon on the same day. Would you go with Lizzie on the ghost tour?”
“Yeah, okay, I can do that.”
Kathy looked surprised that I’d agreed so readily, but I figured it would give me a chance to persuade Lizzie that ghosts were just a figment of her imagination.
***
Before I went into the office, I thought I’d better pop into Ever to have a word with Grandma. Daze had seemed very concerned about the possibility of Department V looking into Grandma’s affairs, so I thought it only fair to warn her.
I was quite surprised to find Mrs V behind the counter. I’d completely forgotten that it was her day to work there.
“Morning, Mrs V.”
“Good morning, Jill. Are you thinking of taking up knitting again?”
“No. I just need a quick word with Grandma. Is she up on the roof terrace?”
“No. She’s in the back office. Would you like me to tell her that you’re here?”
“That’s okay. I’ll just pop down there. I only need a quick word with her.”
Grandma was sitting at her desk. She’d removed her shoes, and had her bare feet resting on the desktop. Judging by the horrible sight that confronted me, she might well need every bit of the Bunions Away ointment that had been bought for her birthday.
“Morning, Grandma.” I did my best not to look at her feet.
“To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure? Have you come to massage my feet?”
“No.” I shuddered at the thought. “There’s something important that I need to tell you.”
“Is it about the Levels Competition? I hope you’re still putting in plenty of practice?”
“Oh yes. Lots.” I lied. “But, that’s not why I’m here.”
“What do you want? I’m very busy.”
“So I see. It’s about something Daze told me.”
“Young Miss Flowers? What could she have to say that would possibly be of interest to me?”
“She’s heard that Department V are mounting investigations into serial offenders here in the human world.”
“And that affects me how?”
“Come on, Grandma. You totally abuse your magical powers here in Washbridge—what with Everlasting Wool and One-Size Needles. To say nothing about the roof terrace.”
“I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my affairs, young lady. I don’t tell you how to run your private investigation business, do I? Although, goodness knows, you could probably do with my advice.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? Department V are going to investigate you.”
“Department V?” She cackled. “Do you seriously think that I’m worried about Department V?”
“Okay.” I started for the door. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Are you sure you don’t have time to massage my feet before you go?”
I should have known better than to try to help Grandma. There was no reasoning with that woman; she always thought she knew better than everyone else.
What do you mean, look who’s talking? I’m not at all like that.
I hoped, for her sake, that Grandma’s confidence was well founded because Daze had seemed genuinely worried about the possible intervention by Department V. Still, I’d done my best. No one could criticise me if things went pear-shaped. Although, I doubted that would stop Grandma from blaming me. She usually did.
I’d just made my way up the stairs to my office when I bumped into Brent from I-Sweat.
“Hi, Jill. How are things?”
“Okay, thanks. How about you? How’s business?”
“Much better than we could have hoped for. Which makes it all the more difficult now that Gavin has left.”
Brent had no idea that his instructor, Gavin, had actually been a witchfinder who had tried his best to kill me. Fortunately, thanks to my loyal and faithful cat, I’d managed to escape his clutches.
“Gavin’s left?” I sounded suitably surprised.
“Yes, he just walked out. He didn’t give notice or even any reason for leaving. He just packed his things, and left.”
“How disappointing. He seemed like such a nice young man.” Apart from the whole trying to kill me thing.
“It’s all very strange. Anyway, we’ve already i
nterviewed a few people, and there are a couple of promising prospects. Incidentally, your PAs, Jules and Mrs V, have both taken out a full year’s membership. What about you?”
“Maybe. I’m still thinking about it.”
I could see as soon as I walked through the door that Jules was bursting to tell me something.
“You’ll never guess what, Jill?”
“Something good, I’m guessing?”
“I’ve now got twelve subscribers to my YouTube channel.”
“That’s great.” Yawn. “Is your computer alright now?”
“Yes. It’s been okay since the man came to sort it out. I managed to record my latest video this morning. Would you like to see it?”
“Not right now. Maybe another day.” The twelfth of never, most likely.
While we’d been talking, I’d been aware of noises coming from my office.
“Any idea what’s going on in there, Jules?”
She shrugged. “I assumed it was that cat of yours.”
Jules was only half right. It wasn’t just Winky who was making the noise. My office was full of cats. Rows of tables had been installed along two of the walls. On each of the tables was what looked like an industrial knitting machine. Sitting at each table was a cat—all of them busy operating the machines, which were churning out all manner of woollen jumpers.
Winky was sitting on my desk, watching his workers, and admonishing anyone who he thought was slacking.
“What’s going on in here?” I had to shout in order to be heard over the din of the knitting machines.
“What does it look like?” Winky shouted back.
“It looks like you’ve turned my office into some kind of knitting factory.”
“It was your idea.”
“How was it my idea? I never said you should turn my office into a factory.”
“You were the one who said I should make and sell my own knitwear.”
“I meant you should learn how to knit, and sell the items which you produced.”
“Nah. That would take forever. This way, I’ll have tons of inventory to sell.”
“I don’t care about your inventory. I can’t have these knitting machines in my office. They have to go. And they have to go right now.”
