Witch Is When I Said Goodbye (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 10)

by Adele Abbott

  Then, I noticed the twins. They were staring out of the window of Cuppy C. I expected them to be annoyed because Miles Best’s shop was doing so well, but in fact both Amber and Pearl were laughing their heads off.

  I was intrigued. What could be happening in Best Cakes to draw such a crowd? I crossed the road to take a closer look. The crowd outside was getting bigger by the minute, and it took me some time to fight my way through to the front. When I eventually made it, I could see what all the commotion was about. Every seat in the tea room at Best Cakes was taken, and the cake shop was also full. The strange thing was, every one of the customers in the shop was dressed as a clown. It was like my worst nightmare. I hated clowns; I’d always hated clowns. They’re evil. I’d never seen so many of them in one place.

  The clowns seemed to be in full flow: hitting one another in the face with custard pies, spraying water from plastic flowers, and dropping cups and saucers all over the floor. They were making a terrible mess and one heck of a racket. No wonder the twins were laughing.

  A thought suddenly struck me: were the twins behind this?

  I fought my way back out through the crowd, and hurried over the road to Cuppy C.

  “What’s Miles clowning around at?” Pearl dissolved into laughter.

  “You two did this, didn’t you?”

  “Who? Us?” Amber feigned innocence.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Have you forgotten what those two did to us?”

  “You mean the rats?”

  “Yes. Miles infested us with rats, so we’ve given him an infestation of another kind—of clowns.”

  “But how on earth did you organise it?”

  “Have you heard of crowdfunding?” Amber wiped a tear from her eye.

  “Err—yeah?”

  “Well this is crowd funning. You can hire a crowd of whatever you want: clowns, knitters or even dentists.”

  “Who on earth would want to hire a crowd of dentists?”

  “If the price list is anything to go by—” Pearl had just about managed to compose herself. “Not many people.”

  “We could have had the dentists for half the cost of the clowns,” Amber said. “But we figured it was worth paying extra for the clowns. I don’t think Miles will try another stunt on us in a hurry.”

  Chapter 19

  It was ages now since Jack Maxwell had been suspended. It was time I gave him a call.

  “Jack, it’s Jill.”

  “Hi. Sorry I haven’t been in touch.” He sounded low.

  “That’s okay. I thought I should check what’s happening with your suspension.”

  “Nothing much. Like I told you, the cogs move very slowly.”

  “There’s slowly and there’s seized up. Have you heard back from Internal Affairs?”

  “Only to say the enquiry is on-going.”

  “On-going? What does that mean? It sounds like they need a fire under them.”

  “That’s not how it works. It’ll get sorted.”

  “Before or after you’ve retired? Why won’t you let me see what I can find out?”

  “No! I’ve told you. Keep out of this. It will only make things worse.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  And, as everyone knows, a successful relationship is based upon honesty and trust. Everyone apart from me, apparently.

  I’d called the police station numerous times, and asked for Tom Hawk, but he was never available. I’d left messages asking him to call me back, but so far, I’d heard nothing. So, the next day, I drove to the police station in the early hours of the morning, parked across the road, and waited for him to arrive. Sure enough, just before a quarter to eight, Tom’s car pulled up at the barrier. I hurried across the road, and knocked on the side window. It took him a moment to realise who I was, but then he wound the window down.

  “Jill? What are you doing here? Is Jack all right?”

  “If you call being suspended for weeks on end with no feedback, ‘all right’, then yes, I guess he’s all right. Look, Tom, what’s happening? Why is the investigation taking so long?”

  “It’s just how these things work.”

  “There must be a reason why someone planted that money in his car. My guess is it’s related to a case he was working on.”

  “I can’t talk about that, and Jack wouldn’t thank me for discussing his suspension with you. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave it alone. Internal Affairs will sort it out.”

  “But Tom—”

  The barrier raised, and he drove through.

  If Tom Hawk thought he was going to brush me off that easily, he had another think coming. I cast the ‘invisible’ spell, ducked under the barrier, and waited for him to get out of his car. Then, I followed him into the station. He was working out of Jack Maxwell’s office.

  I was sure that the information I needed would be on the computer, but to access it I was going to need the password. I stood directly behind the chair, and waited for Tom to sit down. When he did, he immediately pushed the chair backwards, and almost squashed me against the wall.

  I watched closely as he entered the password—I would have to memorise every keystroke. Fortunately for me, it was laughably short and simple: HAWKEYE.

  Even though I had the password, I daren’t risk using the computer even when Tom stepped out of the office. There was a constant stream of people walking along the corridor outside; they would have noticed if the mouse suddenly started to move, and the screen switched display. I had no choice but to find somewhere to hide until late at night, by which time the police station should be much quieter.

  The next time Tom left the office, I followed him through the door. A little way along the corridor, I found what was obviously a cleaner’s cupboard. Once inside, I made my way to the very back—behind some steel shelving—where I sat down and waited. It would be a very long, boring day, but I had no choice but to wait it out.

  The last time I’d checked my watch, it was eight p.m. I decided to wait until eleven, and then risk going back to Jack’s office.

  At least, that was the plan.

  The next thing I knew, I woke up. How long had I been asleep? It was two in the morning. Great! I felt like death warmed up. I was cold, hungry, and I had no feeling in my right leg.

  I listened at the door to see if I could hear anyone. It was silent. There would still be a few people around—the front desk would definitely still be manned. But I was banking on the offices being much quieter.

  I made myself invisible again, and then sneaked out of the cupboard, and down the corridor to Jack’s office. Once at the computer, I waited for a couple of minutes to make sure that I couldn’t hear anyone. After I’d logged in, it didn’t take long to find a list of all the cases Jack had been working on the day before he was suspended.

  I went through each case in turn. They had all been reassigned except for one entitled, ‘Beele Casino’. That one had been closed on the day after Jack had been suspended. I was curious, so I clicked to open the file. The case had been ongoing for over a year; long before Jack Maxwell had arrived in Washbridge. So, why had it been closed so suddenly? I read more, and discovered that the case related to a casino owned by a man called Craig Beele. The notes in the file suggested that the police thought it was a front for a money laundering operation, which was being used by a number of gangs in the area.

  Something didn’t smell right about this. Why would a long-running case like that have been closed so suddenly? It warranted further investigation.

  ***

  The twins were behind the counter in Cuppy C; they both had long faces.

  “What’s up with you two?”

  “Look,” Pearl pointed across the road.

  Best Cakes was absolutely packed; both the tea room and cake shop were full. This time with regular customers—not clowns. I’d never seen it so busy.

  “What’s going on over there? Are they hav
ing a sale or something?”

  “No,” Amber said. “It’s all the publicity they’ve had.”

  “What publicity?”

  “The clown infestation. All the papers covered it. It was on the front page of the Candle.”

  “Oh dear.” I laughed. “That kind of backfired, didn’t it?”

  “I warned Amber it was a stupid idea,” Pearl said.

  “It was your idea,” Amber spat back.

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “Yes it was.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “Was too.”

  That was my cue to leave.

  Barry was doing my head in.

  “Please, Jill. Please. Please, Jill. Can I go and see Babs? Please can I see Babs? She’s my girlfriend.”

  “Be quiet, Barry. I don’t know if Babs is in today.”

  “Can you find out? I want to see Babs. She’s my girlfriend.”

  “Wait there.” I left him upstairs while I called Dorothy. I got through first time, and she confirmed that Babs would be at her mother’s house.

  “Do you think your mum would mind if I went over there with Barry, and took them both out for a walk?”

  “I’m sure she’d be delighted. Mum isn’t as fit as she used to be, so she struggles sometimes with taking Babs for a walk. I’ll give her a call, if you like, and let her know that you’re coming over. When were you thinking of going?”

  “Right now, if that’s okay. Barry won’t stop pestering me until we do.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you her address, and let her know you’re on your way over.”

  Fortunately, Dorothy’s mum, Dolly, lived quite close to the park where I usually walked Barry. He was so excited that I was worried he might knock Dolly over, so I tied his lead to her gate while I went to collect Babs.

  “You must be Jill.” Dolly was a plump, elderly lady with a round face and a pleasant smile.

  “Yes. Did Dorothy tell you I was coming?”

  “She did. She said you wanted to take Babs for a walk.”

  “That’s right. If it’s okay with you?”

  “Yes, of course. My old legs aren’t what they used to be, so I’m only able to take her around the block. If you can take her for a proper walk in the park, that would be wonderful. Dorothy said that you’ve got a dog too.”

  “Yeah, Barry. He’s over there—look.” I pointed to the gate.

  “And these two get on well, do they?”

  “They do. Barry thinks Babs is his girlfriend.”

  “That’s nice, dear. There you go.” She handed me Babs’ lead.

  Babs was perhaps a little less excited to see Barry than he was to see her, but they both made a fuss of one another.

  Barry was much better behaved when we were with Babs than when it was just the two of us. Normally, when he and I went to the park, he would strain at the lead as soon as we got through the gates. With Babs, he was quite happy to walk beside me because she did the same.

  I found a bench, and let them off their leads. They went charging around the grassed area, chasing one another around and around. They played together really nicely. And surprisingly, they stayed where I could see them. Normally Barry would run off, and it could take me anything up to half an hour to find him again.

  When it was eventually time for us to leave, I called them, and they both came straight away. That was definitely not something Barry would normally do.

  I took Babs back to Dolly’s house, and handed her the lead.

  “Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea, dear?”

  “If you’re sure? Barry can be rather excitable.”

  “He’ll be fine. Come on in.”

  Amazingly, Babs and Barry settled down together, and began to snooze next to the fire. They’d obviously worn each other out.

  “I’d like to give you something as a thank you,” Dolly said.

  “There’s no need. You’ve done me a favour letting me take Babs out with us. It made the walk a much pleasanter experience.”

  “Still, I really would like to do something. Would you allow me to paint your portrait?”

  That took me totally by surprise.

  “Portrait?”

  “Yes. I’m something of an artist. Didn’t Dorothy tell you?”

  “No. She never mentioned it. That would be very nice.” I quite liked the idea of having my portrait hanging on the wall in my flat. “When did you have in mind?”

  “Right now, if you like.”

  “Do you have time?”

  “Yes, of course. Come through to my studio. It’s in the back.”

  There were easels, paint brushes, and paints everywhere. Strangely, though, I couldn’t see any completed works.

  “Take a seat in the corner on that wooden chair, and we’ll get started.”

  “How would you like me to sit?”

  “Just pose naturally, dear. Perhaps looking into the distance.”

  I stared out through the window, and Dolly began to paint. I wondered how long it would take. I assumed that portraits could take several days, if not weeks to complete.

  After an hour, I was beginning to feel a bit stiff.

  “Is it all right if I just stretch my legs for a few minutes, Dolly?”

  “Yes, of course, dear. I’m almost finished anyway.”

  Huh? After only an hour?

  “I’d like you to have this as a gift.”

  She lifted the portrait off the easel and presented it to me.

  Was this a joke? I looked at Dolly to see if she was laughing, but she seemed perfectly serious. The picture was of some kind of matchstick woman. It was the sort of thing that Lizzie would have drawn. In fact, she would have made a better job of it.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “It’s one of my better works, I think.”

  Once back at Cuppy C, Barry went straight upstairs to his bed, and was fast asleep in minutes. I unwrapped the portrait, and took another look—just to make sure it was as bad as I thought it was.

  And then my phone rang.

  “Jill?”

  “Hi, Dorothy.”

  “Did you go to see Mum?”

  “Yes. I took Barry and Babs for a walk. They played very nicely together.”

  “That’s great. Any time you feel like doing it again, I’m sure Mum will be only too pleased.”

  “I will.” I hesitated. “There is just one thing though, Dorothy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Your mum offered to do my portrait while I was there.”

  “Oh, no.” Dorothy laughed. “You didn’t let her, did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was it terrible?”

  “Well—”

  “You can tell me, Jill. I’ve seen her paintings.”

  “It wasn’t particularly good. It looked like a child had done it.”

  “Yeah. She’s always doing portraits for people, and they’re always terrible. But no one has the heart to tell her. You won’t say anything, will you?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Thanks. By the way, Jill, did you have a chance to look into that other thing?”

  “Other thing?”

  “The human blood thing?”

  “Oh, that other thing.” It had completely slipped my mind. “I’m still on it. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, Jill, you’re a life-saver.”

  I really should get one of those fancy to-do apps. My memory wasn’t as good as—err—something or other.

  Chapter 20

  I didn’t want to run the risk of forgetting about Dorothy’s little problem again, so I contacted Alan, Pearl’s fiancé, and asked if I could have a few words in private. He was understandably intrigued, but readily agreed.

  When I told him about the issue Dorothy had been struggling with since she moved to Washbridge, he didn’t seem at all surprised. Apparently it was quite a common problem. Unlike most other sups who transitioned to the h
uman world with relative ease, vampires often found it quite a struggle. For a vampire who had lived for twenty years or more in the sup world, and who had been used to only synthetic blood, suddenly being surrounded by humans could prove to be very difficult. That’s why more vampires failed to integrate into the human world than any of the other sups.

  None of this was very encouraging for Dorothy.

  Alan was able to give me one piece of advice though. He had friends who’d had similar problems when they’d moved to the human world. They’d visited a support group called ‘No Fangs’. In every case, the support group had helped them to get through that initial, difficult period. Before he left, Alan gave me the name of a contact at the local Washbridge branch of No Fangs.

  I called them, and spoke to a man called Declan De Stein. He was quite surprised to be contacted by a witch. Most of his calls, understandably, came from vampires. I explained the situation: that I had a friend, a vampire, who was struggling to resist human blood. I told him that before I recommended his support group, I wondered if I might sit in on a session. He was obviously a little surprised by my request, but said he could see no reason why I shouldn’t attend as an observer. Their next meeting was that same night, so I said I’d see him there later.

  ***

  I’d changed into my black suit because I needed to look the part for my visit to Beele Casino. It was mid-morning when I arrived there. As I’d expected, the doors were locked. A sign in the window showed the opening hours were midday to four a.m. every day.

  I pressed the button on the intercom, and a few seconds later a man’s voice answered.

  “We’re closed.”

  “D.I. Lane. Washbridge Police. Open the door, please.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m here to see Craig Beele.”

  “Hold on.”

  The line went silent, but then a few minutes later, a man built like a tank opened the door. The badge on his breast pocket read ‘Security’.

  “Follow me.” He growled.

  The casino was deserted except for a few cleaning staff. The man-tank led me to an office at the back of the building. Behind the desk was a man with black, slicked-back hair; he was wearing a gold ring, which was shaped like a kangaroo. If you were to check the word ‘slime’ in the dictionary, you’d probably find a picture of this man.