by Adele Abbott
“I’m sure you’re already aware that Charlie disappeared from a hotel.”
“Yes, that’s what drew me to this case, actually. Don’t you find it strange that he was staying in a budget hotel?”
“More than strange. The idea of staying in a budget hotel would have brought him out in hives.”
“What exactly was he doing in Cromer?”
“He’d gone there for a couple of days, on business, supposedly.”
“Why do you say supposedly?”
“Two reasons: I’d never known him mention any business in Cromer, and to be honest, I was pretty sure he was seeing other women.”
“You were telling me what happened at the hotel.”
“When he didn’t come home, I contacted them. They told me they hadn’t seen him since the day he’d booked in. It was all very strange.”
“What did the police have to say?”
“I got the impression they thought he’d disappeared deliberately. And to be honest, I think there’s a good chance that they’re right.”
“If there were problems with the marriage, why didn’t he just ask for a divorce?”
“Money. Plain and simple.”
“Has his disappearance left you in difficulties? Moneywise?”
“Not really. Charlie and I had a substantial amount of money held in joint accounts, which I have now moved to my individual account.”
“Do you think he had more money squirrelled away?”
“I’m absolutely sure of it. In numerous accounts probably. Wait there for a minute, would you?” She left the room and returned a couple of minutes later. “Look at this.” She showed me a bank statement. “The slime ball transferred a quarter of a million out of our joint accounts a few days before he did a runner.”
“Do you have any idea where the money went to?”
“None, but I’m pretty sure he must have sent it to some sort of offshore account.”
I glanced at the account number on the statement; I’d seen that same number before.
Chapter 21
Margaret Bowler and Allison Robbins had both shown me evidence that their husbands had transferred a quarter of a million pounds out of their bank accounts, just days before they’d disappeared. In both cases, the money had been transferred to the same unknown account.
It was just about possible that the budget hotel connection was a coincidence, but there was no way that these identical quarter of a million pound transfers could be. The curious thing was that neither Lorraine Cross nor Sandra Broom had mentioned a similar transfer of funds in relation to Eddie’s disappearance. Surely, if that had happened, one of them would have told me; it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that would slip your mind.
I gave Lorraine a call first.
“Lorraine, it’s Jill.”
“Do you have any news for me?”
“Nothing yet, sorry. Look, this may sound like a strange question, but do you know if Eddie transferred a large sum of money out of one of his bank accounts, just prior to his disappearance?”
“No, but then I’d only know if he’d told me about it. Sandra would know for sure. Have you asked her?”
“Not yet, but I intend to.”
“What kind of money are we talking about?”
“A quarter of a million pounds.”
“A quarter of a million?” She laughed. “No way. Sandra and Eddie were quite well off, but they didn’t have that kind of money. Why do you ask, anyway?”
“It’s probably nothing. I’ll keep you posted, Lorraine.”
I rang Sandra next.
“I have nothing else to say to you. I’ve already answered your questions. I’d rather just forget all about the matter.”
I could hardly believe the callousness of the woman, dismissing her husband’s disappearance as a matter.
“Sandra, please, this will only take a minute.”
“It had better.”
“Is there any chance that Edward could have transferred a large sum of money out of one of his bank accounts, just prior to his disappearance?”
“I can’t say for certain because, as I mentioned before, I’m pretty sure he had bank accounts that I knew nothing about, but I didn’t see any unusual transfers. What kind of money are we talking about?”
“A quarter of a million pounds.”
Just like Lorraine, Sandra laughed. “No chance. Edward might have had a bit of cash squirrelled away, but he certainly didn’t have that kind of money.”
“Okay, Sandra, thanks for your time.”
***
When I arrived back at the building, Mrs V was in my office.
“Hattie phoned a few minutes ago, Jill. She wanted to know if you liked any of the hats.”
I went over to my desk and picked up the one I’d tried on earlier. “Yes, I quite like this one, actually.”
“Shall I tell Hattie you want to buy it?”
“Why not? It’s time I treated myself. Tell her to let me know how much I owe her, will you?”
I’d only been at my desk for a few minutes when a petite, black cat jumped in through the window. Totally ignoring me, she went over to the sofa to join Winky.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
“Hello, Winky, darling.”
And then the two of them shared a kiss.
“Hey, you two. Get a room.”
The black cat seemed to notice me for the first time. “You didn’t tell me that your two-legged could talk to us, Winky.”
“I try not to encourage her.”
“You must be Thursday,” I said.
Winky looked daggers at me.
The black cat looked a little confused. “Thursday? No, my name is Violet.”
“My mistake. It’s just that Winky told me he was seeing Thursday today. Wait a minute. Now I remember. What he actually said was that he was seeing Violet on Thursday. It’s Elsie on Tuesday and Ruby on Wednesday. That’s right, isn’t it, Winky?”
Violet turned on Winky. “Are you two-timing me?”
“Me? No, I would never do that.”
“Who are Elsie and Ruby, then?”
“I have no idea, honestly.”
“Who else are you seeing behind my back, Winky?”
“No one, I promise. It’s just you, Violet.”
“Then why did your two-legged just say you’d referred to me as Thursday?”
“You don’t want to take any notice of anything she says. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about half the time. Only a couple of days ago, she was talking to an imaginary green giant.”
“That’s not true, Winky,” I said. “You told me you had a different lady friend for every day of the week.”
Violet swiped him across the face with her paw. “You’re a lowlife slime ball. “I don’t ever want to see you again.” And with that, she jumped off the sofa and headed straight out of the window.
“Oh dear,” I said. “She seemed a little upset.”
“How could you do that?” He raged. “I had a table booked and everything.”
“That’ll teach you to treat your lady friends so badly.”
“I’ll get you back for this. You see if I don’t.”
“Talk to the hat because the hand isn’t listening.”
Five minutes later, my phone rang. At first, I didn’t think there was anyone there, and that it was one of those annoying automated calls. I was just about to hang up when I heard a soft voice.
“Jill, is that you? Are you there?”
“Who’s that? Can you speak up? You’re very quiet.”
“It’s me, Lester.”
“Oh? Hi, Lester. The signal isn’t very good; I can barely hear you.”
“I daren’t speak any louder in case the dragon hears me.”
“Dragon? Where are you?”
“I’m in a cave somewhere in the Black Woods. The dragon is just outside. I don’t know what to do.”
“
Can’t you just magic yourself away from there?”
“I’ve tried that, but for some reason my magic won’t work here. I didn’t know what to do. That’s why I called you. Will you help?”
“Of course. Stay put. I’ll be straight over.”
It took all of my focus to lock in on his location, but once I’d managed it, I magicked myself over there, to find Lester cowering at the back of the cave.
“Is that you, Jill?” he said in a hushed voice.
“Yes, it’s me. You can come out now. Where’s the dragon?”
“Shush.” He put his finger to his lips. He’s just outside somewhere.” Lester stood up and came over to me. “He’ll find us any minute now. Can you get us out of here?”
“Take my hand.”
I magicked the two of us back to my office, where Lester sank into a chair. “I thought I was a goner there.”
“What happened, exactly?”
“It was our first day of training. We were with two instructors, and we’d just reached a clearing in the woods when we heard the dragon’s wings. I assumed the instructors would know what to do, but they seemed just as scared as the rest of us. Everyone ran for cover. I kept on running and didn’t look back, but then I heard the flapping sound getting closer, so I ducked into the cave. That’s when I rang you. I’m really sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t be so silly. I’m glad you did.”
“I’ll be okay in a minute or two.”
“I assume this will be the end of your plans to become a dragon slayer?”
“Definitely. I’m never going back there.”
“What will you do now? Go back to the grim reapers?”
“I can’t. I told them where they could shove their job.”
“Oh dear.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell Lucy. She was against me doing this from the very start. When I tell her that I’m out of work, she’s going to be livid.”
“As it happens, I know of a job going here in the human world, but it’s probably not exactly what you’re looking for.”
“Right now, Jill, I’ll consider anything.”
“Okay. Let me make a phone call.”
***
It took Lester a while, but he finally regained his composure, and headed back to Candlefield. Aunt Lucy would no doubt be delighted that he’d dropped the idea of becoming a dragon slayer, but I wasn’t too sure how she’d react when she learned about his new job.
Meanwhile, for obvious reasons, Winky wasn’t talking to me. I didn’t care because it meant I’d be able to concentrate on my work.
At least, until I got the most exciting phone call EVER.
“Already?” I said.
“Yes, Mrs Maxwell, you can come and view it whenever you like.”
“Does that mean it’s already on display for the public to see?”
“No, not yet. That won’t happen until the weekend, but you can see it in the viewing room right now. Just call at reception and they’ll show you where to go.”
“Did you hear that, Winky? My waxwork model is ready.”
“Whoop-di-do. I assume it’s in the chamber of horrors section?”
“You’re only jealous because no one wants to make a waxwork of you.”
“Hey, don’t forget you’re talking to Washbridge’s best dressed cat.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the same as having your own waxwork, is it?”
Still bubbling with excitement, I magicked myself over to Candlefield Wax Museum.
“Hi there. Someone called to say that my waxwork was ready to view.”
“What’s your name, please?”
“Jill Maxwell.”
“Let me check. Oh yes, that’s right. It’s in the viewing room, which is down that corridor. Take a left, then a right, then another right and then a left. Got that?”
“Err, I’m sure I’ll find it.” I shot off down the corridor, and although I got lost a couple of times, I eventually found a door with a sign that read: Viewing Room.
I started to open the door, but then nerves got the better of me, and I hesitated. It’s one thing seeing a photograph of yourself, but to see a life-size waxwork model. That was something entirely different.
Eventually, I summoned up the courage to go inside where I found a number of waxworks standing in a row: The first one was an elderly wizard. The second was a young vampire, holding a tennis racket. The third, a fairy, had a pen in her hand. The fourth one was a short, ugly witch holding a broomstick, and the last one was an elderly werewolf. There was no sign of my waxwork anywhere.
Perhaps there was more than one viewing room.
I made my way back to reception.
“Hi, I was here a few minutes ago. I’m supposed to be viewing my waxwork model. My name is Jill Maxwell.”
“Yes, it’s in the viewing room.”
“I’ve just been down there, but it isn’t in there.”
“According to my paperwork it should be.”
“Is there someone who could check what’s happened to it?”
“I’ll give Billy a call; he looks after the viewing room. If you go back down there, I’ll get him to meet you there.”
“Okay.”
I’d been outside the door for a couple of minutes when an eager young man came skipping down the corridor.
“Are you Billy?”
“That’s me. And you must be Jill.”
“That’s right.”
“I understand you’re here to see your waxwork?”
“Yes. I took a look inside, but it wasn’t there.”
“That’s strange. I saw it in there earlier. Let’s go take a look.”
I followed him into the room, and down the row of waxworks. He stopped in front of the short, ugly witch, holding a broomstick.
“There you are. That’s yours.”
I stared at it in disbelief. “I don’t look anything like that.”
“I think they’ve captured your nose.”
“It’s not even the same height as me.” I stood next to it. “Look, it only comes up to my shoulder.”
“I see what you mean; it is a little on the short side. Maybe we could put it on a plinth.”
“No, no, no! This is all wrong. Where’s the guy who made this? The guy who I saw when I came the first time? What’s his name? Err, it rhymes with waxwork.”
“Do you mean Max Kirk?”
“That’s him. Go and get him.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m afraid he’s on vacation for a couple of weeks.”
“In that case, I suggest you give him a call.”
“I’m afraid he’s not contactable.”
“Whatever you do, you cannot put this thing out on display.”
Chapter 22
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Jack was eyeing the sausage that I’d left on my plate.
“No, you can have it if you like.”
“It’s not like you, not to eat all of your breakfast. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just not very hungry this morning.”
He took a bite of the sausage. “When did you say that waxwork of yours would be ready?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I thought you said that it’d be a couple of weeks, so it should be anytime now.”
“I think it’s going to take longer than that. More like two months.”
“That’s a pity. I was looking forward to seeing a photo of it.”
I shrugged.
Just then, Jack’s phone rang, and I could tell from his end of the conversation that it had something to do with the hotel case. When he’d finished on the call, I asked him what it was all about.
“Fingers crossed. We may have a lead.”
“Can’t you tell me anything else?”
“Only that it’s related to that quarter of a million pound transfer. We may have tracked down the account it was sent to.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“I can’t tell you that. It hasn’t even been confirmed yet.”
“Come on, Jack. I was the one who alerted you to the other case where a similar cash transfer had been made.”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“I gave you my last sausage.”
“Only because you didn’t want it. If it’s confirmed, the best I can do is to check if there was a similar transfer into that account from your guy.”
“Thanks. You’re my favourite husband.” I gave him a kiss. “Even if you do taste like a sausage.”
***
Jack left for work before me, and I was just about to get into the car when I heard someone shouting, “Freddy? Where are you, Freddy?”
Norm and Naomi Normal were walking up and down the street, and they both looked distressed. Now, if I’d had any sense, I would have got into the car and driven away.
“Hey, you two, is something wrong?”
“We’ve lost Freddy,” Naomi said.
“Who’s Freddy?”
“Our pet ferret. I didn’t realise that Naomi had let him out of his cage. I left the door open when I took the rubbish to the bin, and he must have sneaked out.”
“I didn’t realise you had a ferret.”
“We’ve had Freddy for ages; he’s our darling little boy. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him, have you, Jill?”
“No, sorry.”
“Please be careful when you drive away, just in case he runs out in front of you.”
“Yes, of course.”
When I reached the toll bridge, Mr Ivers was looking down in the dumps, and I didn’t need to ask why. There was no sign of Big in the toll booth, so I assumed Mr Ivers’ constant prattle about movies and hand puppets had driven the big guy back into his box.
“Good morning, Mr Ivers. You’re looking a bit glum today.”
“You know how it is, Jill. Life sucks.”
“Cheer up. It’s the weekend tomorrow.”
“Another long weekend all alone.”
I handed him the cash and drove away. What else could I do? There was nothing I could say that would have made a difference. The guy was a hopeless case.
