Witch is When The Penny Dropped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 6)

by Abbott, Adele

  “How’s your book coming along? I see you aren’t writing today.”

  “I have something else on my mind at the moment. Wool TV have asked me to do my first ever studio interview for them.”

  “How exciting.”

  “I know. I’m really thrilled, but also very, very nervous.”

  “Who will you be interviewing?”

  “That’s just it. They won’t tell me. They insist they want spontaneity. They don’t want me to go in there with pre-set ideas or prepared questions.”

  “Wow! That really does sound scary.”

  “And what’s even worse, is that it’ll be going out live.”

  A recipe for disaster if ever there was one.

  “I’ll let you know when it’s going to air as soon as I know.”

  “Yeah. That would be good.”

  ***

  I’d promised to meet Daze in Cuppy C. She wasn’t in the tea room when I arrived, but Amber and Pearl were. They were both in tears of laughter.

  “What’s going on?”

  Neither of them could speak, so they pointed out of the window.

  Best Cakes owned by Miles Best and his girlfriend, Mindy Lowe, was directly across the street. I could see both of them inside their shop, but I couldn’t for the life of me make out what they were doing. It would have been pointless asking the twins who were helpless with laughter.

  I walked out of Cuppy C, and made my way across the road.

  Then I started to laugh too.

  Miles and Mindy were running around the shop, desperately trying to grab the cakes which were floating in the air. They were fighting a losing battle. The customers in Best Cakes were either looking on in disbelief or holding their sides from laughter.

  Aunt Lucy—what a card!

  Daze had arrived by the time I got back to Cuppy C. Amber had managed to compose herself enough to bring drinks and cakes to our table. The twins could see we were in conference, so didn’t join us. The last time I’d seen Daze was to hand over the papers I’d managed to grab from Alicia’s flat. Alicia Dawes was a level two witch who had poisoned me, and who I believed was working with The Dark One (TDO).

  I’ve had my people go over the papers,” Daze said. “There’s little doubt that Alicia is working for, if not with, TDO.”

  “Are you going to bring her in?”

  “It wouldn’t do any good. People like Alicia would rather die than talk. But at least now we know, we can keep her under surveillance. I have people on that now.”

  “Anything else of interest in there?”

  “The most interesting thing was what wasn’t in there.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, considering the file had your name on it, there was no mention of you in any of the papers. But then, my people believe that some papers have been removed.”

  “What do you think that means?”

  “I have no idea, but we did get a few other names though, and they’re now under surveillance.”

  “So are we any closer to TDO?” I asked.

  “Right now? No, but I’m hopeful the surveillance on the names we uncovered might turn up something.”

  “What are you and Blaze working on at the moment?”

  “Don’t mention that useless lump to me.”

  Whoops. I’d obviously said the wrong thing. Blaze was Daze’s little sidekick—a kind of apprentice Rogue Retriever.

  “What’s he done?”

  “Fallen asleep, that’s what he’s done. When he should have been watching a werewolf who’s been killing humans. We’d had him under surveillance for some time, but he got away—so we’re back to square one.”

  “You’re not having a good day then?”

  “I’m not having a good month. Apart from that useless article, I’ve got the ‘UO’s’ to put up with.”

  “UO’s?”

  “Unlicensed Operators. There’s only a small number of licensed Rogue Retrievers, but there’s an ever growing army of amateurs who think they can make a quick buck by going after Rogues. They cause all kinds of problems. I don’t much care if they put their own lives in jeopardy, but they’re a danger to others—sups and humans alike.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, you don’t want to listen to all of my problems. What’s new with you?”

  “Just the usual stuff. I’m currently negotiating a publishing deal for my cat.”

  Chapter 10

  I hadn’t been expecting Dot Comm, but she was waiting for me at the office. Mrs V had given her a scarf, and was trying to persuade her to take a pair of socks when I arrived.

  “I don’t really need this.” Dot held out the scarf once we were in my office.

  “Take it with you would you? Mrs V gets upset if people reject her scarves. There’s a charity shop just around the corner. You could drop it off there on your way out. Last time I checked, they’d got quite a few of Mrs V’s creations in there.”

  Dot nodded, and put the scarf in her bag. “I’ve come to tell you to drop the case, and to let me have your bill.”

  “Oh? I heard they were exhuming the body. What happened?”

  “Ron wasn’t happy about it, but I’m glad they did it. The body was Reg’s, so that means the police were barking up the wrong tree. Ron is in the clear.”

  “Right. Well I guess there’s nothing more for me to do. I’ll get Mrs V to post the bill on to you.”

  My father had always insisted that you should only work on a case if someone was paying you. He was right—I knew that. But in a case like this, it was hard to let it go. Despite my father’s words ringing in my ears, I was determined to get to the bottom of Gina Peel’s murder. What did it matter if I wasn’t being paid, anyway? I’d soon be raking it in with my ten per cent cut from Winky’s bestselling book.

  It seemed it was a day for unexpected visitors. Colonel Briggs showed up not long after Dot Comm had left. He was carrying an enormous wooden box with what appeared to be jokers painted on each side.

  “Do you need a hand?” I offered.

  “It’s okay. Do you mind if I put it down over there?” He pointed to the sofa. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

  “Of course.”

  It took him a few seconds to catch his breath. “What do you think to it?”

  “Err—it’s very nice. What is it?”

  “A jack-in-the-box of course.” He slipped open the catch.

  “No!” I screamed.” I’d always been terrified of jack-in-the-boxes.

  Too late—I closed my eyes.

  “Are you okay, Jill?” The colonel sounded concerned.

  I opened my eyes, and realised that the jack was still firmly in the box.

  “Yes. I was just—err—I thought Winky was going to jump on the desk.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Winky giving me a puzzled look.

  “It needs a little work.” The colonel closed the lid.

  “Is it a present for someone?”

  “Yes, for myself.” He laughed. “Didn’t I mention that I collect antique and unusual toys?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I really must show you my ‘toy room’ some time.”

  “Do you have any clowns in there?”

  “Clowns? No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  “Tinker is looking well,” he said. ‘Tinker’ was the colonel’s name for Winky.

  Winky hissed at him. He wasn’t a fan of the colonel’s—probably because he could smell the scents of a thousand dogs on him.

  “How’s that Mutt of yours doing?”

  “Barry? He’s okay. Got his eye on a young lady dog at the moment.”

  “I trust you’ve had him snipped?”

  “It’s in my diary.”

  “Hope you didn’t mind me dropping in unannounced. I was in town and wanted to ask if you’d like to help with our latest charity push.”

  “Sure.” I grabbed my handbag and was about to get out my purse.

&nbs
p; “I’m not here for your cash. We’re having a sponsored event, and I thought you might like to take part.”

  “I’m not a great one for walks, if I’m honest.”

  “That’s okay. No walking involved.”

  “Maybe then. What does it entail?”

  “Well, I know your job takes you into a few sticky situations, so when we decided on skydiving, I thought you’d be keen to have a go.”

  “Skydiving?”

  “Exciting, eh. Just a pity I’m too old.”

  “Diving? Out of a plane?”

  “You’ll be strapped to an experienced skydiver, obviously.”

  Obviously.

  “So, what do you say? Can I put your name down?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry.”

  “I thought this would be right up your street.”

  Jumping out of a plane with nothing between me and the ground—sounds great.

  “Sorry, Colonel. I have a fear—”

  “Of flying? Of heights?”

  “Of dying.”

  “Peter has signed up.”

  “He has?” I’d thought he was insane when he married Kathy—now I had proof.

  “Are you sure I can’t persuade you?”

  “Sorry, Colonel. It’s not for me. I’ll sponsor Peter obviously.”

  “And you’ll come to the big day?”

  “To see Peter jump out of a plane? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Winky came out from under the sofa as soon as the colonel had left.

  “Can I do it?” he said.

  “What?”

  “The skydive. Sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “Your idea of fun and mine are very different.”

  “So, can I do it?”

  “I’ll ask the colonel the first chance I get.”

  “Promise?”

  “Would I lie?”

  I rang Kathy.

  “How much have you got Peter insured for?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Have you taken out life insurance on Peter?”

  “What are you going on about, Jill? Is this your latest plan to try to bolster your meagre earnings, by selling insurance on the side?”

  “No. I’ll have you know I’ve billed a client earlier today.”

  “How many bills have you sent out this month?”

  “I forget.”

  “Double figures?”

  “Not quite.”

  “More than five?”

  “Close.”

  “How close? Is it closer to five or zero?”

  “Zero.”

  “Is that the only bill you’ve issued?”

  “Yes, but never mind that. Why are you letting Peter skydive?”

  “Why not? It’ll be fun. He’s looking forward to it.”

  “You two are both insane. You do know what skydiving is, don’t you? There’s no water involved.”

  “It’s perfectly safe. He’ll be attached to a qualified instructor.”

  “How does that make it safer? It’s twice the weight falling to the ground.”

  “Pete said the colonel was going to ask you to take part.”

  “He just did.”

  “What did you say to him? ‘No, thanks. I’m a coward’.”

  “I’m not a coward.”

  “So you’re going to do it?”

  “I have to be brave in my line of work.”

  “So, you are going to do it then?”

  “Fearless even.”

  “You’re not doing it, are you?”

  “Of course not. Do you think I’m insane?”

  ***

  The Gina Peel murder was an itch I couldn’t scratch. I wasn’t exactly overrun with work, so what harm could a little more sniffing around do? I turned to my trusty friend—the Bugle, and reread some of the articles on the murder of Gina Peel. One thing I’d missed the first time around was a quote from a friend of hers—one Julie Truman. It wasn’t difficult to track down her number, so I gave her a call on the off-chance.

  “Thanks for seeing me so quickly.” It was only two hours since I’d called her, and I was now in her apartment. She had exquisite taste—a sixties theme—just like my place. “I love your apartment.”

  “You do? I recently moved in and the furniture came with it. It’s ghastly. I’m waiting for someone to come and take it to the dump, so I can get some modern stuff in. Who’d want this kind of thing in their home?”

  Obviously I’d been wrong. The woman had no taste. Still, that wasn’t why I was there.

  “I was hired by Dorothy Comm to look into the murder of Ron Peel.”

  “Dot? We’ve met a few times. Strange name.”

  “I suppose so. I hadn’t thought about it. What can you tell me about Gina?”

  “She and I had been friends ever since university. One of her brothers died in a climbing accident not long after uni. I remember her being very upset at the time.”

  “Did you know either of her brothers?”

  “I never actually met the one who died. I’ve met Ron two or three times, but I wouldn’t say I know him well. I got the impression that Gina had been closer to her other brother—what was his name?”

  “Reg.”

  “Oh yeah. How could I have forgotten that?”

  “Had you seen her recently?”

  “We had coffee the week before she was murdered. And I spoke to her on the phone the day it happened.”

  “Did she seem okay?”

  “She wasn’t happy. There’d been a water leak at her place which had got into the electrics. She’d had to move out. I offered to put her up, but she said she’d already found somewhere to stay.”

  “Did she tell you where?”

  “Yes, she gave me the address. It’s where they found her body.”

  “Did she say how she’d found the apartment, or who it belonged to?”

  “No, and at the time it didn’t seem important.”

  ***

  I was strangely excited at the prospect of my date. Love Spell had arranged for me to meet my ‘match’ at Kaleidoscope which was one of the restaurants they used for first dates. I’d never been there before, but it had a reputation for good food. It was only now I began to think about the business model Love Spell operated. It was strange to say the least. Any witch who found her partner though the service was committed to keep a major secret from him for the rest of their lives together. Curiously, it would have been easier for me than for most witches. After all, I had lived among humans—totally oblivious to the fact that I was a witch—for most of my life. For a witch who’d lived all of her life in Candlefield, it would be very difficult to adjust.

  My date’s name was Ryan Day. I’d seen a photo of him, and he was certainly a looker. In the back of my mind I was always a little suspicious of good looking guys who felt the need to sign up for dating web sites or agencies. Hilary had told me it wasn’t that unusual, and often it was a question of time constraints. Everyone was so busy these days they didn’t have time to seek out a partner by a more conventional route.

  I arrived ten minutes early, so I got a drink and waited by the bar. It was really quiet, and the barman, Scott, was quite chatty.

  “Waiting for someone?” He flashed me a smile. This guy would definitely not need the services of a dating agency.

  “Yeah. We have a table booked.” I hoped the ‘we’ might keep him at bay.

  “You’ll enjoy it. The food is excellent. Have you been here before?”

  “No. First time.”

  “You timed it right. We had a major revamp when the new owner took over six months ago. There’s a new chef too—he’s won several awards.”

  Before I could respond, a voice from behind me drew my attention.

  “Jill?”

  I recognised Ryan’s face from his photo. He was just as good looking in real life.

  The barman had been right. The food was top notch. The company was excellent too. Ryan, who worked in sports management, was c
harming, interesting and funny. Everything I look for in a man. Wouldn’t it be ironic if this date ended in a relationship?

  “I’ve really enjoyed tonight,” Ryan said as we made our way out. “Could I see you again?”

  “That would be nice.” Who needs Luther?

  We didn’t exchange phone numbers because we were meant to make arrangements via the dating agency for the first two dates.

  “Great, I’ll call the agency to arrange it,” he said, after walking me to my car.

  From a personal point of view, the date had gone really well. From a professional point of view, I’d learned nothing of any value. Our liaison had gone without a hitch, and would no doubt be counted as a success in the Love Spell statistics.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up the next morning, full of the joys of spring. My date with Ryan had gone really well, and although it was meant to be a work assignment I was optimistic it might develop into more than that. What? Who are you calling a floozy? Look, I know it might look as though I had four men on the go, but let’s be honest. Luther and I were dead in the water. Jack blew hot and cold. Drake had issues he needed to deal with. That left the path clear for Ryan—the love of my life.

  There was a frantic pounding at the door of my flat. Maybe Luther had seen the error of his ways, and wanted to try again with me?

  I should be so lucky.

  “Mr Ivers?” Mr Ivers was my boring neighbour.

  “Jill, you have to help me!”

  I’d never seen him look so distressed. Or so wet. He looked as though he’d climbed out of a swimming pool—fully dressed.

  “What happened?”

  “There’s been some kind of water leak in my flat. Everything is soaked.”

  What was it with the water leaks? Gina Peel had moved out because of one, and now poor old Mr Ivers seemed to have a plumbing problem.

  “Have you turned the water off?”

  “I don’t know how. All of my movie journals have been ruined. What will I do? They’re irreplaceable.”

  Every burst pipe has a silver lining. What? Don’t pretend you hadn’t thought the same thing.

  “You go and find the maintenance guy. He’s usually in that little office in the basement. I’ll go see what I can salvage in your flat. Is the door unlocked?”