Witch is Why It Was Over (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 24)

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Witch is Why It Was Over (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 24) Page 18

by Adele Abbott


  “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think that’s going to work.”

  “I take it you weren’t able to change his mind?” Aunt Lucy said when I got back downstairs.

  “I can’t believe it. I thought he loved the idea of being a supermodel.”

  “Not as much as he loves Babs, apparently.”

  “I guess I’ll have to tell Pooch First to take him off their books.”

  “Oh well, never mind. It’s not like they paid very much anyway, is it?”

  What do you mean, it served me right?

  ***

  Long after I arrived back in Washbridge, I was still feeling sorry for myself. All that money lost and for what? Puppy love.

  My phone rang; it was Josey Wilde.

  “I have a message to call you.”

  “Thanks, Josey. I just wanted to check something with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “When you said that you hadn’t cleaned on the night of the murder, I assumed you hadn’t gone to the building at all.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, just to be absolutely clear. You didn’t show up and then get sent away?”

  “No. I got a phone call, telling me not to come in.”

  “And it was Thomas Bradley who phoned you?”

  “Actually, it was his PA. She told me Thomas had said I shouldn’t bother coming in.”

  “Ruth Foot?”

  “That’s right.”

  The mystery thickened.

  Back at my office, Winky was standing on his front paws, with his back paws resting up against the wall.

  “Dare I ask what you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re standing on your head, but why?”

  “It’s for the brain.”

  “How does that help your brain?”

  “It improves the blood flow. You should give it a try.”

  “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Your loss.”

  I had much more important things to do than stand on my head. I had a murder, possibly two, to solve, and I needed to get Georgina Bradley out of prison.

  I tried to put the DVD that Lucas Broad had given me into the slot on my computer, but there was already something in there, so I pressed the eject button.

  “Hot Cats Do Yoga?”

  Winky rushed across the room, leapt onto the desk, and snatched the DVD.

  “Have you been watching naughty movies on my computer?”

  “No, of course not. It’s—err—an instructional DVD. I’m learning yoga.”

  “Why: Hot Cats?”

  “Have you ever tried yoga? It really takes it out of you. That’s why they’re hot.”

  “A likely story.”

  After he’d slunk off, I slipped my DVD into the slot, and fast-forwarded until I reached the part where the ‘cleaner’ entered and then soon after left the building. The woman had her back to the camera all of the time, as though she knew she was being filmed. Unable to see her face, I was about to give up, but then I spotted something.

  I zoomed in to take a closer look, and bingo!

  I made another call to Josey Wilde; this time she was at her desk.

  “Sorry to bother you again, Josey.”

  “No problem.”

  “Do you remember the uniform you wore when you used to clean at West Star?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a uniform. At least, not like the ones my staff wear now. I just used to dress in a blue tabard. They were cheap and nasty—I used to go through a lot of them.”

  “Is it possible you could have left one at West Star’s offices?”

  “I might have done. Occasionally, I’d arrange to meet up with friends on a Friday night after I’d finished at West Star. I used to take a change of clothing with me to save time. It’s possible I might have left a tabard behind. Why?”

  “No reason. Thanks very much. That’s been very helpful.”

  Although Georgina Bradley was being held in Longdale prison, she was only on remand, which meant she was allowed more visits and phone calls than someone serving time. I’d called the prison, posing as her new lawyer, and requested to schedule a phone conversation with her. Just under an hour later, that phone call came through.

  “Jill? Is that you? They said you were my new lawyer?”

  “I may have bent the truth a little. Listen, this may sound like a strange question, but what were you wearing when you went to the Nexler Building on Wednesday?”

  “My grey suit. Why?”

  “Were you still wearing it when you were arrested?”

  “No. When I got home after finding Thomas dead, all I wanted to do was get into bed and go to sleep. I threw the suit over a chair—it’s probably still there.”

  “So, the suit is still at your house?”

  “I suppose so. When the police came to the door, I just threw on a pair of jeans and a top. Why do you want to know about the suit?”

  “I’ll explain later. Thanks, Georgina. Hang on in there.”

  ***

  By the time I’d been to Georgina’s house and then rushed back to the Nexler Building, where I executed the first part of my cunning plan, I was exhausted. Unfortunately, there was no time to rest because, before I embarked upon the final part of my cunning plan, I had a meeting to attend at the colonel’s old house.

  As arranged, the colonel and Priscilla were there to let me in. After wishing me luck, they went back to Ghost Town. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

  “Mr Range?”

  “Do call me Homer. And you must be Jill Jackson.”

  “That’s me. Please come in.”

  “This is a beautiful house. Have you lived here long?”

  “I married Horace shortly after moving to Washbridge from Candlefield.”

  “Is your husband a human?”

  “He is indeed. Anyway, beautiful as this house may be, it’s very costly to maintain. We’ve been looking for ways to generate some additional income, and I thought ghost tours might be just the ticket.”

  “And for that, you’ll need ghosts.”

  “Precisely. The problem is that the regular ghost-hire agencies want to charge an arm and a leg.”

  “That’s very true.”

  “In the course of my research, I realised there was a much cheaper way of doing this. I could simply bring in my own ghosts, but to do that I’ll need a supply of Spookberry. As luck would have it, I read about the ‘hauntings’ over at Washbridge Country Hall, so I took a trip over there, and got talking to Bobby and Billy. They were the ones who recommended you.”

  “If it’s Spookberry you want, I’m your man.”

  “Excellent, but are you able to supply it regularly in large quantities?”

  “Absolutely. I can get as much as you want whenever you want it.”

  “That’s great. Why don’t we go through to my office, and we can talk prices?”

  “Happy to.”

  As soon as we walked through the door, two GT police officers grabbed him by the arms.

  “What’s going on?” He tried to break free, but one of the officers slipped a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

  Constance Bowler stepped forward. “Homer Range, I’m arresting you for the illegal supply of Spookberry Potion.”

  “You can’t prove a thing.”

  “I think you’ll find I can.” She produced a digital recorder from her pocket, and played back the conversation that Homer and I had had a few minutes earlier. It was a little muffled, but loud enough to be obvious that it was Range’s voice.

  He was still protesting his innocence when the two officers took him back to GT.

  “Thanks, Constance,” I said.

  “Not at all. I should be thanking you. His arrest should put a severe dent in the trade in illegal Spookberry.”

  ***

  Ruth Foot lived alone in a bungalow located ten minutes from Kathy’s house. She looked surprised to see me. />
  “I hope you don’t mind my calling on you like this. I didn’t phone because I was in the neighbourhood anyway, visiting my sister. She lives just down the road.”

  “Did you want to come in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to.”

  She led the way through to the lounge.

  “I called at your offices, but they’re closed.”

  “We thought it only right given what happened to Thomas.”

  “Of course. What will happen to the business now?”

  “I’m not sure. That will be up to the other shareholders, I guess.”

  “I assume the main shareholder is now Georgina. Maybe she’ll decide to continue the business.”

  “I’m not sure she’ll be in a position to do that. Didn’t you hear that she’s been arrested for Thomas’ murder?”

  “I did. In fact, I went to see her in prison.”

  “How is she?”

  “Buoyed by the fact that she’s likely to be released any time now.”

  “Really? I thought they had a witness who saw her push Thomas?”

  “The witness saw a woman push him, but they were too far away to identify her. That won’t matter anyway because the CCTV captured what actually happened.”

  “There aren’t any cameras up there.”

  “There weren’t until last week. The management company had one installed, to monitor for people smoking on the roof.” I took out my phone. “I viewed the footage earlier, and took a copy. Look.” I pressed ‘Play’. “See, that’s Georgina. Notice how there’s no one else on the roof when she appears. Watch her reaction after she’s looked over the edge. Do you see that?”

  Ruth said nothing, so I continued, “See how Georgina rushes back to the door. Can you see the look of horror on her face?”

  Ruth continued to stare at the screen, but still said nothing.

  “Would you like to see the earlier footage? The part where Thomas comes onto the roof, followed by you. He’s so busy enjoying his cigarette, and looking out over the rooftops that he doesn’t realise you’re behind him until it’s too—”

  “Stop!” She tried to knock the phone from my hand.

  “The police will be here in a few minutes. Is there anything you’d like to tell me before they get here?”

  Her tears began to flow. It was several minutes before she was composed enough to speak. “I was in love with Stephen. He said he loved me too.”

  “You were having an affair?”

  “That makes it sound sordid—it wasn’t. Stephen promised that when the time was right he’d divorce Georgina and marry me. I was patient—very patient. I waited and waited, and then when I found out that Georgina was seeing Thomas, I thought our time had come. When I told Stephen, I was sure that he’d leave her, but—” Her words trailed away.

  “What happened, Ruth?”

  “He said he could never leave Georgina. He said that he and I had been fun while it lasted, but that it could never amount to anything.”

  “Did he say he was going to confront Thomas that night?”

  “Stephen?” She managed a sour laugh. “Of course he didn’t. He was too much of a coward. He said he was going to talk to Georgina, to try to convince her to end the affair. He said he’d do whatever it took to save his marriage, starting with ending our relationship. Just like that. Then he said it would be best if I left the company.”

  “So, you decided to kill him?”

  “He’d destroyed my life. He’d said he wanted us to be together, but then discarded me like a piece of garbage.”

  “You contacted the cleaner and told her not to come in. Then, after you’d made sure the CCTV had caught you leaving the building, you returned dressed as the cleaner. You stayed just long enough to kill Stephen.”

  She laughed. “You should have seen his face. He wasn’t laughing after the first blow. Or the second.”

  Confession over, Ruth dissolved into tears. She was still crying ten minutes later when Susan Shay and her team arrived.

  Chapter 20

  My little ruse had worked even better than I could have hoped.

  To create the bogus CCTV footage, I’d used magic to make myself look like Georgina Bradley. Then, dressed in her grey suit, I’d used my phone to film myself on the roof of the Nexler Building. Although I say so myself, my performance had once again been Oscar worthy.

  My only concern had been whether or not Ruth Foot would buy the story of the new camera on the roof. Fortunately, she was aware that the management company had threatened to take action to combat the smokers, so she’d found the idea credible. That’s why when I’d showed her the footage of ‘Georgina’ on the roof, she’d assumed it was genuine.

  Next had come the big bluff. I’d asked if she wanted to see the earlier footage which would show her pushing Thomas off the roof. If she’d said ‘yes’, my cunning plan would have been scuppered because, of course, no such footage existed. Luckily, my hunch had proved to be correct: She’d been taken in by the fake footage, and had no desire to witness herself committing murder. Instead, she’d begun to sing like a bird.

  Needless to say, Susan Shay had been her usual, ungrateful self. Had she bothered to thank me for solving two murders? Of course not. After arresting Ruth, she’d given me the usual lecture about keeping my nose out of police business.

  Sushi? That woman could kiss my— You get the picture.

  ***

  Who deserved coffee and a muffin?

  That’s correct: I did.

  While on my way down the high street towards Coffee Triangle, I heard someone call my name. When I turned around, I saw Ma Chivers headed my way. Her face was bright red, and something told me she was not a happy bunny.

  “Did you really think you could get away with this, Gooder?” She gestured to what was left of Yarnstormers.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “You’re a liar. I know you and your grandmother were behind it. I also know that you were the one who shut down my spell battery operation.”

  “You mean the spell batteries that you used to put Cuppy C out of action?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was running a perfectly legitimate business.”

  “Of course you were. Just how stupid do you think I am?”

  “You won’t get away with this. Either of you.”

  “You talk a good game, Ma, but that’s all it is. You’re all talk.”

  “Think so, do you? You ought to ask your new friend, Alicia, if she agrees.”

  “What do you mean? What have you done to her?”

  “Me? Nothing, of course.” She cackled. “Like you just said, I’m all talk.” She turned away. “Be seeing you, Gooder.”

  I tried Alicia’s number, but there was no reply. Was Ma Chivers bluffing or had she really done something to her? I wasn’t Alicia’s biggest fan because she’d once tried to kill me, but more recently, she’d distanced herself from Ma Chivers, and had been instrumental in helping me to resolve the ‘softer’ spell incident.

  I genuinely hoped she was okay.

  ***

  Something strange was going on in Coffee Triangle. Normally, as soon as I walked through the door, my ears were assaulted by the sound of whichever instrument was the flavour of the day. Today though, the only sound to be heard was that of conversations from the small number of customers seated at the tables.

  “Morning. What can I get for you?” The young woman behind the counter was new, or at least I hadn’t seen her before.

  “Morning. A blueberry muffin and a caramel latte, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “How come no one has an instrument today?”

  “Haven’t you heard? We’re about to undergo a major rebranding.”

  “What does that entail?”

  “Coffee Triangle won’t be Coff
ee Triangle anymore.”

  “What will it be?”

  “I’m afraid that’s top secret.”

  “Will you still have instruments?”

  “That much I can tell you. We’re done with the instruments. In fact, we’ve been giving them away all week. We might have a few left if you’d like one?”

  “Okay. Why not?”

  She handed me the coffee and muffin. “I’ll just check in the back to see what we have left.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about the rebranding of Coffee Triangle. Although the noise could sometimes be a little overwhelming, I’d kind of grown accustomed to the quirkiness of it all. Still, a tambourine or maracas would serve as a reminder of the old place.

  “These are all we have left.” The young woman held up half a dozen triangles. “Which one would you like?”

  “Err—no, thanks. I don’t think I’ll bother.”

  “There’s no charge. They’re free.”

  “It’s okay. I—err—I already have a triangle at home.”

  I took a seat at a table next to the window, and was just about to take a bite of muffin when Dougal Andrews, reporter for The Bugle, plonked himself in the chair next to mine.

  “I don’t recall inviting you to join me.”

  “You try to hide it, but I know you have a soft spot for me, Jill.”

  “Did you want something, Dougal?”

  “I thought you might have some information for me. A little bird tells me that you’ve been involved in the Bradley murders case.”

  “No comment.”

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. I understand that Georgina Bradley has been charged with her husband’s murder. Is it true that she also killed her first husband, Stephen?”

  “No comment.”

  “Come on, Jill. Throw me a bone here.”

  “Okay, but you didn’t hear this from me.”

  “Of course. My word is my bond.”

  “It would be wrong for me to name names, but I can tell you that the same woman committed both murders.”

  “I knew it!” He grinned. “I can see the headline now: Georgina Bradley - The Black Widow. This will show Susan Hall who’s top dog at The Bugle.”

 

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