by Sam Short
A few of the shed doors had been propped open, and a man nearby one of them gave a wave as he filled a watering can from one of the numerous wood shrouded taps, which rose from the ground.
Millie waved back. “Let’s ask him,” she said, heading along the nearest footpath, waving a honey-bee from her face.
“Good morning!’ said the man, as the girls approached. He put the watering can down at his feet and smiled. “It’s nice to see some young folk here. The whole allotment lifestyle does seem to be catching on with the younger generation. I suspect it’s the price of food in those supermarkets. I mean, who wants to pay a few quid for some mediocre spuds, when you can grow some real beauties for the price of some good old-fashioned digging and a few seeds? You can’t beat potatoes dug fresh out of the ground, either! They taste so much better. I haven’t paid for a bag of spuds since nineteen-eighty-nine.”
“As much as I agree with your sentiments,” said Millie, dodging a wheelbarrow laden with dying weeds. “We’re not here to do any gardening. We’re looking for three men. One of them is named Eric. They’re metal detectorists. Can you help us?”
“Everybody here knows Eric and the lads,” said the man. “They’ve been a terrific help for lots of allotment owners — can you imagine how many rings fall off fingers when people are planting seeds, or digging weeds? You’d be surprised! Those chaps have found every single one! Necklaces and money, too.” He pointed in the direction of a bright red shed in the centre of the gardens, its door standing open. “That’s Eric’s shed. The one with the lovely runner beans growing next to it. All three of the guys are inside — they arrived here early this morning, they seemed excited about something.”
“Thank you,” said Judith, glancing at Millie. “Oh, and the lovely fresh potatoes you spoke about… could you sell us a few? If you have any spare, of course.”
“I’ve got plenty spare! Pop back here before you go,” said the man. “I’ll dig some up for you, but I won’t take a penny from either of you. You’ll enjoy eating them more if you don’t pay — free food tastes so much nicer.”
Following a footpath past a bed of courgettes on one side, and a bumper crop of rhubarb plants on the other, Millie heard men’s voices drifting from the open doorway as she approached the shed.
“Are we rich?” said one voice.
“When it’s been split three ways, we won’t be rich,” said another voice, which Millie recognised as the same man she’d witnessed threatening Tom in The Fur and Fangs. Eric. “But if we’re sensible, none of us should ever be poor again. Especially you, Jack. You look like you’ve only got two years left in you!”
“Cheeky beggar,” came a man’s voice, almost drowned out by laughter. “There’s plenty of life left in me! Just ask Pammy!”
“She’ll spend all your gold finding a younger fella, Jack!” came the laughing retort.
Millie looked over her shoulder at Judith, and put a finger to her lips.
Nodding her understanding, Judith copied Millie’s careful foot placement as she slowed her pace, and stopped next to the shed, hidden from its occupants by tall runner bean plants dotted with red flowers, around which several bees buzzed.
“She can have all my gold for all I care,” said the man, who Millie presumed was Jack. “As long as Pamela is happy, I’m happy.”
“You soft old sod,” said another man, his voice sounding younger than the other two. “Use some of it to treat yourself.”
“What will a young lad like you spend his on, Andy?” said Jack. “Flash cars and alcohol?”
“I don’t know,” said Andy. “I’ve never had much money before. Maybe a new car. We’ll see.”
The men went silent for a moment. Then Jack spoke again. “Do any of you feel guilty about Tom? I do. A little.”
Millie’s blood ran cold.
She stared at Judith, whose eyes widened. “They did it,” she mouthed.
With a nod, Millie slipped her phone from her pocket and opened her voice recording app, aiming the microphone at the shed’s open doorway.
“Don’t feel guilty,” said Eric. “I don’t. Not in the slightest. He should have known better than to mess with the Spellbinder Sand Diggers.”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I’ve always been an honest man. What we did last night, wasn’t right. It wasn’t honourable.”
“Come on, Jack,” said Eric. “Don’t feel like that. Tom was devious. He crossed a line. He deserved it.”
“It’s alright for you two,” said Andy. “I’m the one who did it. I’m the one who committed a crime. You three didn’t technically break the law.”
“We were all in a cordoned off area,” said Jack. “There were signs stating that nobody was to go anywhere near that dinosaur skeleton that Tom found. That Sergeant Spencer bloke put them there himself. We were breaking the law just being there. You know how seriously illegal metal detecting is taken by the law.”
“Wow,” said Andy. “You sneaked past some police tape. It was hardly the crime of the century. It’s me who should be worried about the police, not you two. I can hardly believe I actually did it.”
“Enough!” said Eric. “We were in it together, but as the founder of the Spellbinder Sand Diggers, and owner of this shed, I suggest we don’t mention it again. Nobody will ever find out what happened, no evidence was left behind, and Tom’s not going to report us, is he?”
“It was funny, though,” said Jack. “When we left him there in the dunes like that!”
“That look on his face!” said Eric. “I’ll never forget it! It was so funny! The look of absolute shock!”
For a brief moment, Millie wondered if one of the men was the possessed by the demon, but realised with a sinking hope for humanity, that all three of the men were in it together.
The evil emanating from the shed was of human origin. All forged by greed. Gold fever. She shuddered, and pointed at the open door. “After three,” she mouthed at Judith. “One. Two. Three!”
Millie moved first, barging past the runner bean plants, angering the bees, which swarmed around her head. She swiped one away from the tip of her nose and burst into the shed, with Judith close behind her. “Nobody move!” she yelled, staring at the small gold-laden table standing in the centre of the semi-circle of men. “We know what you did last night!”
“Police!” shouted Judith, followed by a shriek. “Ow! I’ve been stung!”
Eric moved first. Grabbing the corner of the table, he hurled it in Millie’s direction, the gold coins turning into painful projectiles which peppered Millie’s face and neck.
“Ow!” shrieked Judith once more. “I’m getting stung all over!”
“Everybody leg it!” commanded Eric. “Good luck, fellas, it’s each man for himself now! Godspeed, dear friends!”
“My Pammy’s biscuits were on that table, Eric,” said a balding man, placing a flat cap on his head. “Now they’re all over the floor! Raisin and choc chip, they were, too! My favourites. She only makes them once a month!”
“Forget the biscuits, Jack,” said Eric, kicking the toppled table towards Judith. “If this pair catches you, you’ll be eating prison biscuits by next week, and they won’t have raisins in them! I can assure you of that. And if they do have, I’d be dubious about their origin! Just run for it, Jack! Both of you run for it!”
A sharp pain erupted on Millie’s neck, and she swiped at the attacking bee, knocking it to the floor. As another bee flew at her face, the three men in the shed made for the exit, barging past Millie and Judith as they made their escape.
Judith ran outside, her arms waving wildly as she swatted the stinging insects, and Millie followed her, fighting her own battle with the bees.
“They’re escaping!” said Judith, a large red welt rising beneath her left eye.
Unhindered by bees, the three men each chose a different direction to run in. Eric made quick progress past a line of sheds, while Jack kept his head low as he limped through a cabbage patch, his bisc
uits seemingly forgotten, but it was Andy who Millie wanted most urgently to apprehend — the man who had confessed to having committed the crime.
Swatting a bee from her ear, she watched the young man preparing to vault a low fence on the opposite side of the allotments. He glanced over his shoulder as he placed a hand and a foot on top of the chain link metal, and began hoisting himself over.
“I can’t chase them!” said Judith, swatting at the air. “I’m getting stung all over!”
Millie took a deep breath as instinct took control of her powers. The space behind her ribs burned as her magic grew, bubbling within her as it searched for a purpose. A release. Not sure of what spell she was about to cast, she raised a hand, purple sparks arcing between her fingertips, and pointed her fingers in Andy’s direction.
A hand grasped her wrist, the fingers digging into her flesh, forcing it downwards. “No!” said Judith. “Look around you! There are too many witnesses. The concealment spell is good, but you shouldn’t abuse its power by blatantly performing magic in front of so many non-paranormal people!”
Millie looked around the allotments. Judith was right. There were at least six people staring in her direction. She let the magic fizzle out, and the sparks vanished from her fingertips. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was the pain of the bee stings. I got angry. I wanted to catch Andy.”
“Don’t worry,” said Judith, rubbing at the red marks on her face, and waving the last of the striped attackers from her arm. “He won’t get far. We’ll catch up with him. We’ll catch up with all of them. That won’t be hard, but we’ll get Dad to do it. I think a uniformed police officer is required now. I don’t know if anybody saw those sparks you created, but just in case — we need to make things appear as normal as they can be around here.
“We’ll gather up the gold which Eric threw all over the place, and head back to your cottage. Then we’ll use some magic to heal these stings. Dad can look for those three criminals while we keep an eye on the alien hunters and make sure they don’t get near the demon skeleton.”
“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind them. “Will you still be wanting potatoes after that little fiasco? I dug some up for you.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Judith, taking the bag from the man’s outstretched hand.
“That was quite the display you two put on,” he said. “I couldn’t help noticing what happened here. I think everybody in the allotments noticed what happened here.”
“It was nothing,” said Millie. “It’s over now. Thank you for the potatoes.”
The man smiled, his eyes briefly flashing vampire black. “You used magic, young witch,” he said. “I saw. Other people saw, too — non-paranormal people. You took a silly risk.”
“You’re a vampire?” said Millie.
The man bowed at the waist and gave a wide grin. “Indeed, I am. My name is Benjamin, but you may call me Ben. I know a little about what is going on in town — Henry has warned us all to be on the lookout for a demon, and has informed us that a man has been killed. Tom Temples, he said his name was. I didn’t know of him, but no man deserves to have his life taken from him so cruelly. I hope the demon is caught soon.”
“That’s why we’re here,” said Millie. “We weren’t sure if Tom had been murdered by the demon, or by a human. I think it’s safe to say that after hearing the conversation we just listened to, and recorded, the demon is off the hook — for murder, at least. The men who just escaped are as evil as any demon.”
“I’d be shocked to learn that any of the three men who were in that shed are capable of murder,” said Ben. “But sometimes it transpires that people are not who we thought they were. Now, you two clear up that gold and get going. I’ll lock Eric’s shed and let Sergeant Spencer know if those three show their faces here again.”
Chapter 11
Millie pressed the pause button on the screen of her phone, and the voice recording stopped.
“Okay,” said Sergeant Spencer, nodding. “I’d class that as evidence. I’m leaving right away. I’m sure they’ll all be in custody before teatime.” He looked at Millie and Judith in turn. “Make sure you don’t let those alien hunters near that skeleton, tell them that I’m still scouring the sand for forensic clues. I’ve sent off the campervan registration number, and I’m still waiting for it to go through the system. I’ve asked for the owner’s identity and any criminal records he might have. It’s taking longer than usual, but it shouldn’t be too long.”
Millie glanced through the patio window. The campervan remained where Mister Anon had parked it, and the two occupants were visible through the side window, seated at a table in the rear playing what looked like a board game.
“Are you still looking for evidence?” said Judith, applying some of the oily potion which Millie had made to the stings on her skin, her face relaxing as the magic began to work.
“No,” said Sergeant Spencer. “There’s nothing there to find. Soft sand doesn’t hold footprints well, and I’ve found nothing else of interest. I’ve tested the shovel for fingerprints. There were two sets of prints on the handle, one was Tom’s, and I can’t find a match for the other person’s prints in the system — they don’t have a criminal record. I’m sure I’ll find a match when I catch up with those metal detectorists, though.”
“They killed him for gold,” said Millie. “How awful.”
Reuben gazed at the pile of gold on the kitchen table. “You think they killed Tom just to steal the gold he’d found?” he said. “Humans are so greedy.”
“Some of them are,” said Millie. “Not all. But yes, that’s what I think. I can’t think of any other reason why they’d have killed Tom, and the conversation I recorded at the shed seems to back up that theory.”
“Money, love and jealousy,” said Sergeant Spencer. “The three main motives for murder.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. It’s time I left. I doubt those detectorists will get very far, but I want them in custody sooner, rather than later.”
“Be careful, Dad,” said Judith. “There’s three of them, and they’re obviously willing to use violence.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Sergeant Spencer, placing his hat on his head. He smiled at his daughter. “I promise.”
Judith applied more of the potion to the back of her hand, the bee sting beginning to vanish almost immediately, and passed the little bottle to Millie. “I’ll come with you, Dad,” she said. “I don’t want you to be on your own. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, and at least I can use magic if things do turn violent.” She looked at Millie. “You’ll be okay here on your own for a few hours, won’t you? I’ll be back in time for turkey and roast potatoes. Don’t you worry about that. Or you could go with my dad, and I’ll stay here? Somebody has to stay here, though — we don’t want those alien hunters disturbing that skeleton.”
Applying a small amount of the potion to her chin, the soothing scent of jasmine in her nostrils, Millie smiled. “I’ll stay,” she said. “Anyway, I won’t be alone. I have Reuben.”
Reuben flew to Millie’s shoulder. “And I’ve got something I want to talk to you about,” he said. “It’s important.”
Sergeant Spencer frowned. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I think Judith should stay with you.”
“Why?” said Millie. “The men from ASSHAT don’t seem dangerous. I’ll be fine. It will give me time to begin preparing the meal for tonight.”
“And to listen to what I’ve got to tell you,” said Reuben.
“And that,” said Millie. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m more concerned about that other demon coming back, than I am about ASSHAT,” said Sergeant Spencer.
Millie smiled. “I appreciate the concern, Dave, but I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”
Sergeant Spencer’s cheeks turned a rosy red, the cleft in his chin almost vanishing as he gave a wide grin. “Thank you, Millie,” he said. “That meant a lot.” He glanced at the door to the left of the f
ireplace. “If the worst did happen, and a manic demon broke into your cottage, then you’ve always got your cavern. Judith told me that when you lock it with magic from inside, nobody will be able to get in.”
“The door becomes invisible if I lock it from inside,” said Millie. “Like it was when I first arrived in Spellbinder Bay. Nobody will be able to see it, let alone get in.” She pushed the cork stopper back into the potion bottle, and placed it on the table next to the gold coins. “You two get going. You’ve got a murderer to catch. I’ll take this gold down to my cavern, where it’ll be safe, and then keep a eye on the alien hunters while I prepare dinner. Reuben and I will be fine. Don’t worry.”
Millie piled the gold coins in an empty wooden box, and placed it on one of the numerous shelves hewn into the rock wall of the cavern. The green glow from the cauldron — a waist high ring of stones containing magic captured from moonlight, cast a calming light over the cave walls, and Millie sighed as she stared into the swirling depths. “It’s strange to think that my mother’s energy is in there,” she said. “She feels so close, yet she couldn’t be further away from me.”
Reuben flew from Millie’s shoulder and landed on the rim of the cauldron, the green light reflected in his coal black eyes. He stared up at his witch. “Millie,” he said. “You know I’ve been spending a lot of time down here recently?”
“Yes,” said Millie, her eye catching movement below the surface of the liquid as a glowing white light flickered briefly, before darting away into the hidden depths.
“Well, I’ve been looking for something down here. Something in one of the books. A spell, to be exact,” said Reuben. “A spell that I remember noticing when Esmeralda was creating potions down here one day. A spell which I think will help you.” He averted his gaze. “A spell which I hope will help you.”
Millie looked into the little birds eyes. “What spell, Reuben?” she said.
