by Adele Abbott
“Did you feed Winky this morning?”
“I can’t get into your office.”
“What do you mean?”
“The door won’t open.”
“You don’t think he’s lying dead behind the door, do you?”
She shrugged. Mrs V was far more concerned about the missing shredder than she was about Winky.
I hurried over to the door. She was right, so I put my shoulder to it, and pushed as hard as I could. Eventually, I managed to get it open far enough to squeeze through. Then I saw why I hadn’t been able to get in. The floor and every surface was covered with mini-Winkys. Over by the window, there was some kind of production line where five cats were stuffing yet more of them.
Winky was perched on my desk, overseeing his workforce. I had to pick my way carefully across the room, to avoid standing on any of the toys.
“What on earth is going on here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Even to you?”
“Why are there a thousand mini-Winkys all over the floor?”
“I think you’ll find there are two thousand, one hundred and sixty-five. At the last count.”
“Whatever. What are they doing here? This is my office. How am I meant to work with all this going on?”
“You worry too much. Take a seat. Suck on a mint.”
I managed to step over the last few toys in my path, and slumped down in the chair. “This can’t continue. And what are all these other cats doing here? How did they get in?”
“I have my methods.”
“Where did they come from?”
“The job centre, of course.”
“Since when did the job centre cater for cats?”
“Not the human job centre! The feline job centre. They’re only temporary. I have them on a fixed term contract. I’m paying them as little as possible,” he whispered.
“I might have known. Look, this venture of yours is obviously hugely successful, although goodness knows how. You can’t continue to run it out of my office. You’ll have to find alternative premises. Can’t you rent an industrial unit somewhere? There are some to let near the park.”
“That won’t be necessary. It’s all in hand.”
“In hand how?”
“I’ve just agreed to licence mini-Winky to one of the large toy manufacturers. As from tomorrow, they’ll take over the manufacture, sales and distribution. And I’ll get a royalty for every toy sold. Sounds like a sweet deal to me.”
“And what’s my cut?”
He laughed. “Why would you get a cut?”
“For funding your start-up by providing you with somewhere to work.”
“In your dreams.”
***
It was useless trying to work out of my office. I’d given Winky an ultimatum to get his workforce and all of the mini-Winkys out of there by the end of business, or I would dispose of them myself. I wasn’t sure he believed me, but I was deadly serious. I wasn’t going to let a cat push me around. What? Who are you calling a pushover?
As I made my way out of the office, I put my heel through one of the toys.
Whoops!
“Hey! Be careful,” Winky shouted after me. “I’ll bill you for damages!”
“Good luck with that.”
“Is he dead?” Mrs V said, quite uninterested.
“No, he’s alive and well. I’d forgotten that I had a clear-out yesterday, and left some stuff on the floor. I wouldn’t bother going in there for the rest of the day.”
“Is it my imagination, or is he meowing more than usual?”
“I don’t think so.”
I thought it best not to tell her that there were another five cats next door.
My phone rang; it was Peter.
“Jill, you said I should let you know if there were any developments.”
“What’s happened?”
“I’ve just arrived at the colonel’s house. His son is here. I thought you would want to know.”
“I’ll pop over there now. Maybe I can grab a word with him.”
When I arrived at the house, I was greeted by Mrs Burnbridge. The two of us joined Peter in the kitchen.
“Would you like a cup of tea, dear?”
“Yes please, Mrs Burnbridge.”
“Peter tells me that you’re rather particular about your sugar.”
I glared at him. “Not really. I just like one and two thirds teaspoons.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. Why did people have such a problem with my insistence on precision when it came to sweetener?
Mrs Burnbridge had a selection of muffins, and even though it wasn’t long since I’d had breakfast, I didn’t want to appear rude, so I took a blueberry one.
“I hear the colonel’s son has turned up.”
“Like a bad penny,” she said.
“How well do you know him?”
“I’ve met him a few times. When the colonel did talk about him, which wasn’t often, I got the impression that his son was a bit of a disappointment. But he’s quick enough to show his face now his father is dead, I see.” The disgust was obvious in her voice. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter to me. There’s no reason for me to stay on now the colonel’s gone. I should have retired years ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him on his own. You know what men are like. They can’t cope without us women, can they?”
“That’s true. So what will you do now?”
“I have a few hobbies. I enjoy knitting.”
“Really? You should talk to my P.A. You may have heard of her: Annabel Versailles?”
“Annabel? Of course, everyone knows Annabel. She’s something of a celebrity in knitting circles. I didn’t realise she worked for you.”
“She doesn’t exactly work for Jill,” Peter butted in. “Or at least she does, but Jill doesn’t pay her.”
“Take no notice of him, Mrs Burnbridge.” I shot Peter a look. “Annabel and I have an arrangement. It’s all above board. So when do you intend to leave?”
“I’ll stay around until after the reading of the colonel’s Will, and then I’ll leave Benjamin to it.”
“Where is Ben, anyway?” I said.
“The last time I saw him, he was in the toy room. The police have finished in there now. I think he was looking around to see what he could sell. I’m pretty sure he’ll want to offload the house and all the contents.”
“Are the toys worth anything?”
“I believe some of them are quite valuable. In fact, the man who took away the jack-in-the-box for repair made the colonel an offer for it. But the colonel said it wasn’t for sale.”
I finished my tea and muffin, and then went in search of the colonel’s son. It didn’t take me long to find him; he was still in the toy room. The door was ajar, so I knocked and walked in.
“Who are you?” he said, stony-faced.
“I’m Jill Gooder. I was a friend of your father’s.”
“Oh, right. Did you want something?”
“I did some work for your father; I’m a private investigator. My brother-in-law, Peter, is the gardener here.”
“Yes? And how can I help you?”
“Actually, I may be able to help you. I know the police are investigating your father’s death, but I wondered if you’d like me to see what I can find out?”
“Thank you, but no. I’m quite happy to leave it in the hands of the police.”
I looked around and noticed the jack-in-the-box which the colonel had brought with him to my office a while ago.
“Do you have any idea what you’ll do with his collection?”
“Nothing concrete. It’s early days.”
“What about the dog rescue charity? Will you be continuing your father’s work with that?”
“Definitely not. I have no interest in it. I think my father gave enough to those dogs. I don’t think they can expect anything more from this family. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m rather busy. I’m sure Mrs Burnbridge will show you out.”
***
There was no point in going back to the office because I wouldn’t be able to move for mini-Winkys. I was considering taking a trip over to Candlefield when my phone rang; it was Drake.
“Hi, Jill. Are you busy at the moment?”
“I’m just between jobs.”
“Are you in Washbridge?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you come around and have a look at my new flat?”
“You’re in already?”
“Yes. Your grandmother couldn’t do enough for me.”
Hmm? What was she up to? She never did anything without a motive.
“What do you say? I could give you the guided tour.”
I agreed, but only because I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no. I had hoped that Drake’s house-hunting would come to nothing. I realise that sounds a little unkind, but the thought of having him living in Washbridge, as well as Jack, was too much to handle.
I parked a couple of streets away, and walked from there to Ever A Wool Moment. Fortunately, I didn’t have to go through the shop. Drake had told me that there was a separate entrance to the flat, on the side of the building.
He was waiting for me at the door.
“Come in. I should really have bought some champagne to celebrate, but all I have to offer you is a cup of tea, I’m afraid.”
“Tea will be fine, thanks. Milk and one and two thirds teaspoons of sugar, please.”
“Sorry, I don’t have any biscuits in yet.”
“Don’t worry; I’ve just had a muffin.”
“I’m really pleased your grandmother offered me this flat,” Drake said, as he was making the tea. “I don’t imagine I’ll spend too much time here, but it’ll be handy to have a base in Washbridge. Hopefully you’ll come over sometimes.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
While Drake was pouring the tea, I walked through to the living room. The television was on, but there was no sound. I had an uneasy feeling about the place. The flat was perfectly nice; it was well decorated and the furniture was in good condition, but there was something which just didn’t feel right. I glanced back at the TV screen and saw a familiar face. It was Grandma with a freaky smile on her face.
Drake came into the room and saw me staring at the TV.
“What’s wrong?”
“Err—it’s—” The TV screen was blank again.
“Are you okay, Jill?”
“Yeah—it’s nothing.”
Over tea, Drake told me how pleased he was with the flat, and that he intended to bring a few items of furniture over from Candlefield.
“Do you get much noise from the shop below?”
“No, nothing at all. I was a bit concerned because of the tea room. I thought the sound might carry, but I can honestly say I haven’t heard a thing.”
“That’s good.” I glanced at the mirror on the wall, but instead of seeing my reflection, I could see Grandma staring back at me.
“Jill? Are you okay?” Drake said.
I continued to stare at the mirror.
“Jill, what’s wrong?”
Grandma’s face had disappeared, and I was left staring at my own reflection.
“I’m sorry, Drake. I’ve just remembered. I’ve got an—err—appointment in five minutes with my—err—bank manager. Sorry. Got to go.”
“But, Jill. You haven’t finished your tea.”
I rushed downstairs and back to my car. So that was what she was up to. She’d offered Drake the flat so she could keep her beady eyes on me. Well, she could think again. That was the last time I was going inside that flat.
Chapter 9
I was pleased to be out of Drake’s flat, but I still had the whole day in front of me, and I couldn’t go back to the office.
I wasn’t comfortable leaving the investigation into the colonel’s death in the hands of the police. I knew Maxwell would do his best, but the colonel meant a lot to me, so I felt I owed it to him to at least try to find out what had happened. It would be yet another unpaid job, but I seemed to specialise in those. The colonel’s son hadn’t been very keen for me to get involved, but I didn’t much care about him.
I gave Mrs Burnbridge a call.
“How are things over there?”
“Ben’s still here, dear. Looking to see what he can sell. I don’t trust him at all.”
“I asked if he’d like me to look into his father’s death, but he didn’t seem very keen.”
“He was probably thinking about the cost. He only likes to spend money on himself, that one.”
“I feel like I owe it to the colonel to at least try to find out what happened.”
“That’s very good of you, dear. He always did speak highly of you.”
“He did?”
“He said you were a little bit ditzy, but that your heart was in the right place.”
Ditzy?
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted him dead? Did the colonel have any enemies?”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot. There were a couple of people he didn’t get along with, but I can’t think of anyone who would have wanted him dead.”
“Who didn’t he get along with?”
“There’s Simon Sergeant; a sergeant who served under the colonel.”
“Simon Sergeant? So, he’s Sergeant Sergeant?”
“Yes, that’s right. The colonel often used to laugh about that.”
“And why exactly didn’t they get on?”
“I don’t know the full story, but from what I could make out, the colonel discovered the sergeant had been stealing and selling weapons.”
“To the enemy?”
“Nothing like that. To small-time criminals I think. There was no espionage involved. It was more financially motivated. The colonel reported him, but the army didn’t want it to be made public, so he was never actually put on trial. He was thrown out, and lost his pension, I believe.”
“That certainly sounds like a reason for him to dislike the colonel. Who was the other person you thought of?”
“A man named Rupert Hare. He runs a shooting range on the neighbouring property. He started up a few years ago. The colonel wasn’t very happy about it at the time, but he agreed not to raise an objection, provided that the shooting didn’t carry on after eight pm.”
“Was there some sort of falling out?”
“Everything was okay for about six months, but then the range started to stay open later and later. Sometimes as late as eleven o’clock. The noise was quite loud and it really used to annoy the colonel. He went round there to have it out with Rupert Hare a few times, and I believe the colonel threatened him with court action. I think it almost came to blows on a couple of occasions. There was certainly no love lost between them.”
***
This was ridiculous. I’d spent all day in different coffee shops, and all because my stupid cat was using my office as a toy factory. Enough was enough. It was almost the end of the day, and I wanted to make sure that Winky had started to move out. If not, there’d be trouble. I’d show him who was boss!
I was halfway up the stairs when I heard footsteps behind me. It was Gordon Armitage who wanted to kick me out of my office so his law firm could move in.
“Jill, I am so very pleased to see you.” He smiled.
Armitage hated me, so if he was smiling, he had to be up to something.
“Hello, Gordon.”
“It seems that we will be taking over your office after all.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Your landlord is on his way over to evict you.”
“Why have you called Zac again?” Armitage had tried to get me thrown out before, but had failed miserably.
“I’ve asked him to come over because I thought he should know that your office is overrun with cats.”
“What do you mean, overrun with cats?”
“Don’t try and come the innocent. I was in the office next door earlier today and I co
uld hear the meowing. There must have been half a dozen of them going at it. What are you doing in there? Running some sort of cattery?”
“I don’t have any animals in there, Gordon. I’ve told you before.”
“Get ready to kiss goodbye to your office.”
I was tempted to throw him down the stairs, but I didn’t want to end up behind bars.
“Ah, Zac,” Gordon shouted, as our landlord appeared on the stairs below us. “You’re just in time. I was just telling Jill you were coming over.”
“Hello, Jill.” Zac gave me an exasperated look.
“Hi, Zac.”
This time, I was really worried. Even though I’d told Winky I wanted his workers out of the office by the end of the day, I wasn’t confident that he would have done it. I’d managed to hide Winky from Zac and Armitage once before, but I was never going to be able to hide six cats.
“Come on, Zac,” Armitage said. “Let’s get this sorted out once and for all. Then you and I can negotiate a rent for Armitage, Armitage, Armitage and Poole to take over these offices.”
“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, Gordon,” Zac said, following behind him.
I rushed ahead, trying to think of a way to stop them.
“There’s really no need to go in there, gentlemen.” I stood in front of the door. “You won’t find any cats inside.”
“Out of the way, Jill,” Gordon said, practically pushing me aside. “Come on, Zac, let’s take a look at these cats.”
Mrs V was still staring at the corner of the office where the shredder had been. Only at the last moment, did she seem to notice the invasion.
“What’s going on, Jill?”
“Nothing to worry about, Mrs V.”
Armitage pushed open the door to my office. “There—what did I tell you?” he said. “Look—”
This was it. I was going to lose my precious office. How could I have let this happen? After all the loving care Dad had put into it.
I followed the two of them inside.
“Well, Gordon,” Zac said. “I can certainly see a lot of cats. In fact, hundreds of them, but they all seem to be soft toys.”
