by Adele Abbott
“Point taken. Won’t you be going to the dance, then?”
“I don’t know—probably not. Lester says he’s going with or without me.”
“Hmm? And you’re okay with that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I imagine there’ll be lots of attractive female reapers there. But, I’m sure there’s no need to worry.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. I suppose I could make the effort. Like you said, I do enjoy a good dance. Would you come shopping with me, and help me to pick out a new dress?”
“Of course.”
***
After leaving Aunt Lucy’s, I decided to pay a visit to Cuppy C for coffee and a blueberry muffin.
What? I know I’d only just had a slice of cake, but I burned those calories off on the walk over. Who are you calling delusional?
Huh? What on earth was going on? There was no sign of Amber or Pearl. Instead, Alan and William were behind the tea room counter.
“Guys?”
“Hi, Jill.” Alan greeted me with a toothy smile, which reminded me that there was something I needed to ask his advice on.
“What can I get for you, Jill?” William said.
“First of all, you’d better tell me what’s going on in here. Are the twins poorly?”
“No. They’re both fine. In fact, they’ve gone shopping.”
“I didn’t realise that you two ever worked in here.”
“This is our first time,” Alan turned to William. “Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”
“You go ahead.”
“Okay. Why don’t we grab a table, Jill? William can bring over your drink and your muffin.”
“How did you know that’s what I wanted?”
“Everyone knows about your blueberry muffin addiction.”
Alan and I took a window seat.
“Go on, then,” I prompted. “Tell me why you two are in here. I’m intrigued.”
“The four of us had a night out recently. I can’t remember exactly what was said, but the twins got upset. They thought William and I were insinuating that they had it easy, working here in Cuppy C. We weren’t really having a go at them—it was just a bit of a laugh.”
By then, William had joined us, and he picked up the story, “The girls said we wouldn’t be able to take the pace of working in the shop. We weren’t going to let that go, so we offered to prove we could do it. Before we knew it, we’d arranged to spend some time working here.”
“Are you just here for the day?”
“No. We agreed to work here for three days. The twins are convinced we won’t make it past day one.”
“How’s it going so far?”
“I’m actually enjoying it,” William said.
“Me too.” Alan nodded. “I thought I’d hate every moment, but the customers are really nice, and it’s not that difficult, despite what the twins would have you believe.”
As I took a sip of my tea, I noticed something through the window. “What’s going on across the road?”
“You mean with Best Cakes?” Alan followed my gaze.
“Yeah. The shop looks as if it’s closed.”
“It’s been closed for a couple of days.”
“Any idea why?”
“Not a clue.”
“How very strange. Anyway, on a totally unrelated matter, can I pick your brain, Alan?”
“Good luck with that.” William laughed.
“Take no notice of him,” Alan said. “How can I help?”
“I have a friend in the human world who is dating a vampire. She’s a little freaked out by his fangs, although thankfully, she thinks they’re just weird wisdom teeth. It seems that he’s oblivious to the fact that they are showing.”
“He needs StopFangs.”
“What’s that?”
If he rubs it on his gums where his fangs would normally appear, it will solve the problem.”
“How does it work?”
“I don’t know the ins-and-outs, but it basically stops the fangs appearing for about twelve hours.”
“That sounds ideal. Would you jot down the name of the product for me, so I don’t forget it?”
The guys were back at work behind the counter; they were naturals. William was a real whizz with the coffee machine—much better than I’d been when I’d tried my hand at it. And they both seemed to have a great rapport with the customers.
***
After I’d magicked myself back to the office, I spent a couple of hours just tinkering around, and then I called it a day. What I really needed was a juicy case to get my teeth into, but there was precious little sign of that happening.
Mrs V and Jules were both still hard at it—knitting needles a go-go. Jules was chuntering to herself as she knitted.
“Having problems, Jules?”
“It’s not the knitting.” She looked up. “It’s Gilbert. He just rang and asked me to run an errand for him. He wants me to go into that creepy bottle top shop.”
Never had a description been more apt.
“Does he want you to buy some bottle tops for him?”
“No, thank goodness. He’s heard there’s a newsletter called Toppers News. He wants me to buy him a copy before they’re all sold out. I just hope that no one I know sees me go in there. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a sad sack.”
“As it happens, I know the guy who writes Toppers News.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
***
On my drive home, I was listening to the radio. Lee Sparks was the DJ on Radio Wash’s drivetime slot. Although he played the usual mix of ‘blah’ music, the guy could be quite entertaining at times. I’d heard a lot of people say that they found Sparks’ humour to be puerile, but he made me laugh.
What did that say about me? Don’t answer that—don’t you know a rhetorical question when you see one?
“All of you out there in Wash Land, if you enjoyed that tune, honk your horn.”
He’d no sooner said the words than I heard a number of car horns sound around me.
“Listeners, we have a visitor in the studio. Jay, would you like to say hello to the Washbridge public?”
That was followed by a few seconds of silence, as though he’d turned off his microphone. Then he was back again, but his voice had changed. He sounded scared.
“No! Please! Don’t! Aaarghh!”
What was that all about? You could never be sure with Lee Sparks. He loved doing wind-ups live on air. If I was hoping for some kind of explanation, I was to be disappointed because what followed was several minutes of dead air, until eventually the music started up again.
As I got out of my car, I happened to glance at next-door’s front window. What I saw shocked me. Clare, our new neighbour, was standing in the lounge, and she appeared to be wearing a traditional witch’s outfit. I was stunned—and even more stunned when Tony, her husband, appeared next to her. He was dressed in a traditional wizard’s outfit. I knew they weren’t sups, so why were they dressed like that? I hurried into the house before they spotted me.
Under Jack’s egalitarian system, it was my turn to make dinner, so I ordered in pizza.
What? Of course that still counts.
“We should probably go around next door to introduce ourselves,” Jack said.
“I’ve already met them.”
“I haven’t. We could take them a bottle of wine as a ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ gift.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I think they might be a couple of weirdos.”
“Why would you say that?”
“When I came home tonight, I saw them standing in their lounge. They were wearing weird costumes.”
“What kind of weird costumes?”
“She was dressed as a witch. He was dressed as a wizard.”
“Are you sure about that? You have been known to jump to the wrong conclusion.”
“That’s not tru
e.”
“What about the time you thought Mr Kilbride was into the occult?”
“That was a simple mistake; I couldn’t understand his accent. Anyway, I saw these two with my own eyes. There’s something decidedly weird going on next door.”
Just then, Jack’s phone rang.
“Mum? Yes, we had a great time. Jill? Yes, she said it was great to meet you both at long last. How is Dad?”
“What did she want?” I asked when Jack finished on the call.
“Nothing much. She was just checking that we’d enjoyed the party.”
“What did she say about me?”
“Just that it was nice to meet you at last.”
A likely story.
Chapter 3
I hadn’t had a chance to look through Imelda Barrowtop’s journal since before the anniversary party. It wasn’t something I could do when anyone else was around; that’s why I was up at five in the morning. I figured that would give me at least an hour and a half to study it before Jack got up.
I’d been shocked when I’d found the entry referring to the red haired, red bearded man, but having had more time to reflect on it, I’d come to the conclusion that it was no more than a coincidence. There were lots of men with red hair and red beards, and there probably always had been. The fact that they’d had the same name definitely made it a little weird, but it was nothing to get freaked out about.
I made coffee, and settled down in the lounge. There were hundreds of pages in the journal. For the most part, the entries were all very run-of-the-mill. It seemed that Magna Mondale would meet up with Imelda Barrowtop periodically. When they met, Imelda would make a record of everything that Magna told her. The whole thing seemed nonsensical to me. Why bother?
I was just about to give up on it when I came across an entry which I read, and then re-read.
Magna was more upset than I’ve ever seen her before. She found the red haired, red bearded man dead on her doorstep. He had a pendant in his hands with the initials ‘JB’ engraved on it. Magna is going out of her mind with worry.
I threw the journal onto the sofa. What on earth was going on? Was this some kind of elaborate hoax? What other explanation could there be? I’d discovered the body of a red haired, red bearded man, close to my office. Not long after that, Mrs V had found a black box in the linen basket; it had contained a pendant with the same two initials engraved on it: JB. I still had it, hidden in a drawer upstairs.
I’d been reading for some time without finding anything of any significance, and then I came to this chilling entry:
Magna seems really scared, but she won’t say why. She has sealed her spell book in the basement of her house, and has cast a spell that will prevent anyone gaining entry. Apparently, she has also left a message inside the room, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was, or who it was for. I’m really worried about her.
That was the last entry except for a single line of text on the following page:
Magna is dead.
“Jill! What are you doing up at this unearthly hour? Are you okay?”
I hadn’t heard Jack come downstairs.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“What’s that you’re reading?”
“It’s nothing. Just something from a case I’m working on.” I grabbed the journal, and hurried upstairs before he could ask any awkward questions. “Make me another cup of coffee would you, sweetness?”
Over breakfast, Jack had his nose stuck to his phone.
“Whatever happened to the art of conversation?” I said.
“Sorry. I was just looking at the local news. One of the DJs at Radio Wash was murdered yesterday, while he was broadcasting his show.”
“What?” I snatched the phone from him. “Let me see.”
“Hey. Do you mind?”
“It’s Lee Sparks. I was listening to his drivetime show when it happened. He said something about someone coming into the studio, and then seemed to get a little panicked. I didn’t think much of it at the time because I assumed it was some kind of prank. He was always messing around like that.”
I handed back the phone.
“It looks like Leo Riley is going to be busy.” Jack grinned.
***
For once, Jack and I left for work at the same time. As we did, our new neighbours came out of their house.
“I should go over and introduce myself,” Jack said.
“Wait!” I grabbed his arm, and said in a hushed voice. “Be careful.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember what I told you about them being dressed in weird costumes?”
“Hi!” Tony called. He and Clare had spotted us, and were on their way over.
“Oh, hi.” I smiled. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Hi, I’m Jack Maxwell.”
“I’m Tony and this is Clare, my wife.”
“Nice to meet you, Jack,” said Clare, the pseudo-witch.
“How are you settling in?” Jack asked.
“We love it.” She gushed. “Don’t we, Tony?”
“So far, so good.”
“Did you enjoy your party?” I said.
“Sorry?” Fake wizard, Tony, pretended to be puzzled.
“Last night when I got home, I saw you through the window. You were dressed as a witch and a wizard. Was it a fancy dress party?”
Jack forced a nervous laugh. “It’s none of our business, Jill.”
“That’s okay.” Tony looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot. “Actually, you’ve discovered our deep, dark secret.”
Clare giggled, and for a horrible moment, I thought they were going to give us the down and dirty on their sex life. “We share a passion for cosplay. In fact, that’s how we met.”
“Cosplay?” Jack looked puzzled; he’d led such a sheltered life.
“It’s where people dress up as their favourite comic book characters,” I said.
“Not just comic books. TV, movie and game characters, too.” Clare corrected me. “We go to lots of cosplay conventions. At least one a month. This weekend it’s SupsCon. Have you heard of it?”
Neither of us had.
“It’s a convention based around the supernatural world. We’re going as Marcia and Zorta.”
Jack’s nonplussed expression no doubt mirrored my own.
“From the TV show, Marcia and Zorta,” Tony said. “You must have seen it?”
“We don’t watch much TV.”
“You really should check it out,” Clare chimed in. “It’s brilliant. We were trying on our costumes last night when you saw us. I hope we didn’t give you too much of a shock. Nobody wants to think they’re living next door to a witch, do they?”
“That would be terrible.” I smiled.
“You two should totally come with us.” Clare turned to her husband. “There are still tickets available, aren’t there?”
I needed to kill this stupid idea quickly. “Thanks, but it’s not really our—”
“We’d love to.” Jack jumped in.
Was he out of his freaking mind?
“Don’t you remember, Jack?” I glared at him. “We have that thing this Saturday.”
“What thing?”
“The thing—the one that we have on Saturday.”
“No, Saturday is free. I’m sure.”
“We could get you a couple of tickets.” Tony offered.
“That would be great,” Jack said. “I’ll let you have the cash.”
“Fantastic! You’re going to love it. Anyway, we’d better get off or we’ll be late for work.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jack asked, in all innocence, after they’d left.
“Cosplay? Really?”
“It sounds like fun.”
“I suppose you think having a root canal sounds like fun, too?”
“What will we go as? We can’t go as a witch and wizard because Tony and Clare are already doing that. You wouldn’t make a very good
witch, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re too attractive. Witches are all ugly.”
“Where did you read that? Wiki-witches? Are you really sure you want to go to this thing? There are much more exciting ways we could spend our Saturday.”
“Such as?”
“I believe they’re repainting the town hall. We could always go and watch it dry.”
***
“Cosplay? Seriously?” I was still chuntering to myself after I’d arrived in Washbridge.
“Sorry?” The parking attendant gave me a puzzled look.
“I was just talking to myself. Ignore me.”
As he went on his way, I could hear him muttering about the ‘crazies’ he had to put up with.
I was almost at the office when my phone rang. I was sure it would be Jack, wanting to tell me what costume he’d decided to wear.
“What now?” I barked.
“Oh, dear. Did I call at a bad time?”
“Sorry, Aunt Lucy. I didn’t realise it was you. I’m having a bad morning.”
“Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Jack has just signed us up to go to some stupid supernatural cosplay thing on Saturday.”
“That sounds like fun. I love cosplay.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes. When I was younger, I went to loads of them. You should go as a witch. Just for the irony.”
“According to Jack, I’d make a terrible witch. Apparently, I’m not ugly enough.”
She laughed. “What will you go as, then?”
“Nothing, if I can help it. I’m still working on ways to get out of it. Anyway, you called me?”
“Yes, but seeing as you’re already having a bad day, maybe I should leave it for another time?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m only blowing off steam. What is it?”
“You’re never going to believe this, but I had a phone call from Miles Best. He asked me to get in touch with you, to see if you’d be prepared to meet with him and Mindy.”
“Did he say what it’s about?”
