Witch Is Why A Pin Dropped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 20)

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Witch Is Why A Pin Dropped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 20) Page 4

by Adele Abbott


  Jack had already left for work, and I was just about to set off for the office when I heard the unmistakable sound of bagpipes. I’d grown accustomed to hearing Mr Kilbride playing from time to time, but the noise wasn’t coming from his house. It appeared to be coming from somewhere up the road, and it was gradually getting louder. Then, I spotted something in the distance; it was Mr Hosey’s train, Bessie. If I’d had even an ounce of sense, I would have jumped into the car, and gunned it out of there. Instead, I was transfixed by the sound of the bagpipes which was even louder now.

  As Bessie came to a halt in front of our driveway, all became clear. Seated in the second carriage was Mr Kilbride, playing the bagpipes for all he was worth. By then, the sound was deafening.

  “Good morning, Jill,” Mr Hosey shouted, as he climbed down from the engine.

  “Morning,” I shouted back.

  “I’m sorry to tell you that you have missed your chance. What is it they say? You snooze, you lose.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “The advertising opportunity that you so rashly declined.” He pointed to the carriages, and only then did I notice that they were carrying an advert for bagpipe lessons from Mr Kilbride. “As you can see, Mr Kilbride is making the most of his free rides on Bessie.”

  “Oh, well. My loss, I guess.”

  “Would you be interested in lessons, Jill?” Mr Kilbride put down the bagpipes.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. My sister might be interested though. I’ll jot down her telephone number for you.”

  Snigger.

  ***

  I’d just stepped into my office building when I bumped into George from I-Sweat.

  “Morning, Jill. On your way to the gym?”

  “Maybe later. I have a lot on today. Are you still having problems with things being moved around during the night?”

  “Not for a few days, but another strange thing is happening now. Every morning when we get here, there seems to be animal hair all over the equipment.”

  “That is weird. What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like the place has been invaded by dogs or cats during the night.”

  “Perhaps they’re using the gym while it’s closed to humans?”

  He looked confused for a moment, but then smiled. “Yeah. I guess that must be it. It’s a pity we can’t get them to pay subscription fees.”

  Jules managed a ‘good morning’ but didn’t bother to look up. She was way too engrossed in her knitting project.

  As soon as I walked into my office, Winky quickly put his paws behind his back—just as he had the previous time.

  “I’m not biting,” I said.

  “Not biting what?”

  “I know you want me to ask what you have behind your back.”

  “There’s nothing behind my back.” Once again, he showed me first one empty paw and then the other. “See!”

  “I believe you.”

  Was it possible that he really did have something of interest behind his back? No, of course he didn’t. Stop it, Jill! He’s just trying to make you think it’s something important. Just keep ignoring him.

  What? I’m allowed to talk to myself if I want to. Are you sure about that? Yes, I’m positive.

  Ten minutes later, Jules came through to my office. “Jill, look, this is my competition entry.”

  “A tea cosy?”

  “A what? No, it’s a hat.”

  “Oh? Right. It’s just that it’s—err—similar to—err—”

  “Has Annabel copied my hat?”

  “Err—no. Not exactly.”

  “Are you sure? There were a couple of times that I thought I saw her looking over the top of the filing cabinet. Have you seen her competition entry?”

  “Yes, she did show it to me, and it definitely isn’t a hat.”

  “Phew! Thank goodness. So, what do you think of it?”

  “It’s bound to be the best hat there.”

  “Thanks, Jill.”

  Jules returned to the outer office, obviously encouraged by my endorsement.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?” Winky jumped onto my desk.

  “Tell her what?”

  “That her hat is identical to the old bag lady’s tea cosy.”

  “They weren’t that similar.”

  “Are you kidding? Even I could see they were the same, and I’m a cat.”

  Just then, my phone rang; it was a number I didn’t recognise.

  “Jill? It’s Constance Bowler.”

  “Hey, Constance. Are you calling from GT?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t sure if it would work or not. Mad gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

  “When you were over here, we spoke about working together. Well, something has come up that I think you might be able to help us with.”

  “Okay. Do you want me to come over?”

  “If it isn’t too much trouble?”

  “I’ve been putting in lots of practice at travelling between here and GT. It’s getting easier every time. When did you want to meet?”

  “I have meetings for the rest of the day. How about tomorrow morning? Say nine o’ clock?”

  “That works for me. Where?”

  “There’s a rather nice coffee shop close to the police station.”

  “Okay. What’s it called?”

  “Spooky Wooky.”

  I laughed. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Shall I give you directions?”

  “You’d better, otherwise I might never find it.”

  ***

  I’d just finished sorting my Post-It notes, by size, when Jules walked in. She was wearing her tea cosy—err—I mean, hat.

  “I’m just trying it out,” she said when she caught me staring at it.

  “Isn’t it rather hot?”

  “It is a little.”

  “Maybe you could put a couple of holes in the sides—for ventilation?” Here’s my handle; here’s my spout.

  “I think that would look silly.”

  “You could be right. Did you come in here for something?”

  “Oh yeah. I almost forgot. There’s a lady out there who would like to see you.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Day. Doris, I think she said.”

  “Que sera sera.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Never mind. You’d better show her in.”

  The woman’s pale face was devoid of makeup, and she looked as though she’d been crying for hours.

  “Mrs Day?”

  “It’s Jay, actually. Doris Jay.”

  “Right. Sorry. Please have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No thanks. I need your help. My daughter, Kylie, has been charged with the murder of Lee Sparks.”

  “The DJ?”

  “You’ve heard of him?”

  “I’ve listened to his show a few times.”

  “Kylie was his girlfriend. They say she murdered him. You have to help me, Miss Gooder.”

  “I need you to tell me everything that has happened.”

  “Yesterday, at about half past seven in the evening, two police officers turned up at my door, and told me that Kylie had been charged with Lee Sparks’ murder. I thought it was some kind of joke or a mistake at first, but they were deadly serious.”

  “And you say she was his girlfriend?”

  “Supposedly, but you would never have known it from the way he carried on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was a horrible man. Everyone who heard him on the radio fell under his spell; I did at first. But that was just a persona. It wasn’t the real man. He cheated on Kylie, and he abused her terribly.”

  “Physically?”

  “Mental abuse, definitely, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d hit her too. She wouldn’t have told me. He could do no wrong in her eyes. She was infatuated.” />
  “Have you been able to see your daughter since she was arrested?”

  “Yes. I saw her first thing this morning for a few minutes. She was in a terrible state, as you can imagine. It broke my heart to have to leave her.”

  “Did she tell you anything about what happened?”

  “Not much. She was too upset. Kylie said she’d gone to the radio station to see him.”

  “While he was on air? Was that usual?”

  “She quite often sat in on his show. When she got there, she found him dead; he’d been stabbed.”

  “Was there anyone else in the studio?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  “Do you know why they think your daughter did it?”

  “Kylie’s fingerprints were on the knife, but she’s adamant that she didn’t touch it.”

  “You said that he’d been abusive towards her. Is it possible that she just snapped, and lashed out?”

  “No! Kylie wouldn’t hurt a fly. And besides, she still loved him; don’t ask me why.”

  “It’s only a couple of days since the murder. It’s possible the police will realise they have the wrong person.”

  “How? They’re convinced they have their murderer. Meanwhile, Kylie is rotting in a cell. You have to help me, Miss Gooder. You have to help me to get Kylie home.”

  “I’ll do my best. Did Kylie ever mention anyone who had reason to dislike Sparks?”

  “It would be easier to list the people who liked him. He was full of himself, and treated everyone around him like dirt. From what Kylie told me, Sparks had had run-ins with his producer and his ex-manager. But there are many others.”

  “Okay. The first thing I’ll need to do is speak with Kylie. Do you have a lawyer?”

  “Yes. My brother-in-law is a lawyer.”

  “Good. Ask him to make arrangements for me to see Kylie. He may need to accompany me.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that, and then call you later.”

  Chapter 6

  Oh bum!

  I’d promised Jack that I would meet him outside the fancy dress shop at half past one, but by the time Doris Jay had left, it was already a quarter to two.

  I hurried over there, and arrived just as Jack was setting off in the opposite direction.

  “Jack!”

  “We said one-thirty!” He tapped his watch.

  “Sorry. A new client came in without an appointment.”

  “Fair enough. I’ve still got thirty minutes. That should be long enough.”

  The shop wasn’t exactly doing a roaring trade; we were the only customers in there.

  “Hi, I’m Neil. I’m the manager. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

  “We’re going to SupsCon,” Jack said.

  “We’ve had a lot of customers in this week who are going there.” He turned to me and winked. “I assume you’ll be wanting a witch’s outfit?”

  Before I could respond, Jack jumped in, “No. We decided Jill would make a terrible witch.”

  We decided? I must have missed the part where I had a say in it.

  “I see what you mean.” The manager grinned at me.

  Jack continued, “We thought we’d go as Vamp and Champ.”

  “Vampires, eh? Good choice. Our vampire costumes and accessories are over there, just beyond the werewolf section. If you need any help, just give me a shout.”

  “See, I told you,” Jack said, once the manager had gone back behind the counter. “He agreed with me that you’d make a terrible witch.”

  “Let’s just pick a costume, and get out of here. I’ve got a lot of work on.”

  “We have to look the part. You can’t rush these things.”

  He wasn’t kidding. He tried on practically every so-called vampire costume in the shop. They were, of course, all totally ridiculous. I’d seen any number of vampires, and not one of them had been wearing a long, black cape.

  “I think this is the one.” Jack was admiring himself in the full-length mirror. “And what about these?” He turned around and flashed his ‘fangs’.

  “Plastic teeth? Very realistic.”

  “Of course they’re not realistic. Vampires aren’t real.”

  “Sorry. I forgot. Now, can we go?”

  “What about your costume?”

  “This one will do.”

  “But that’s the only one you’ve tried on.”

  “This one is fine. Let’s pay for them and get out of here. I’m starving.”

  “Hold on. You need some fangs.”

  “I’m not putting those things in my mouth.”

  “You have to. How can you be a vampire without fangs?”

  “Okay, okay.” I picked up a set of the plastic fangs. “Happy now?”

  “We need some blood.”

  “What?”

  “Look. They have pouches of fake blood. We can put some on our chins. It will make it look like we’ve just been sucking blood.”

  When Jack did something, he didn’t do it by halves.

  When we came to pay, the manager gave me another sly wink. “You’ll make a great vampire. You’re a natural.”

  He was enjoying this way too much.

  As soon as we got out of the shop, Jack had to rush off. I grabbed a sandwich, and walked over to Ever where Kathy and Chloe were both running around like headless chickens.

  “Hi!” I called to Kathy.

  “Hey, Jill. I didn’t see you there.”

  “You look busy.”

  “It’s getting ridiculous. We’re somehow meant to run the shop, the tea room and the roof terrace. And on top of that, we have all the general duties—like checking orders sent via the website.”

  “What about Grandma? What does she do all day?”

  “That’s a very good question. You should ask her.”

  “No thanks. She’s already on my case about the tax.”

  “What is this tax she keeps going on about?”

  Oh bum! I really should engage my brain before speaking. I could hardly tell Kathy about the new tax being proposed in the supernatural world, could I?

  “Tax? Oh, wait. Did you think she meant tax as in what we have to pay to the government?”

  “What else?”

  “She was talking about tacks—the sharp, pointy things. I was putting up a picture, and I dropped one. Grandma trod on it, and she was hopping mad.”

  “Right?” Kathy gave me her ‘at least we aren’t related by blood’ look. “By the way, I’m not the only one who’s fed up with all the work we have to do. Chloe is cheesed off as well, and she’s only been here for five minutes.”

  “You know what you should both do, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Go on strike for more money.”

  “You know what, Jill? That’s actually not a bad idea. In fact, it’s a great idea.”

  “It was only a joke. I wasn’t seriously suggesting—”

  But Kathy had already walked away; she was headed towards Chloe.

  While I was on the high street, I called in at WashBets. It was the same woman behind the counter as on my previous visit—she still looked dead inside.

  “I’d like to speak to Ryan, please.”

  “If it’s a complaint, you need to speak to his assistant, Bryan.”

  “So you mentioned the last time I was in here. This is a personal matter.”

  “Are you his girlfriend?”

  The woman obviously had the memory of an elephant—a dead one.

  “No, I’m not his girlfriend, but if you could just tell him I need to talk to him about Megan.”

  “Megan? Is that you?”

  “No. That’s his girlfriend.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t his girlfriend?”

  Oh boy! This woman really should get together with Norman.

  Eventually, I got to speak to Ryan.

  “Has your assistant been working here long?”

  “Tonya? Yeah, she’s an absolute g
enius.”

  “I can tell.” I laughed. “A real mastermind.”

  “I’m being serious. She’s a mathematical whizz. She can work out odds and payments in her head faster than any computer. I don’t know how I’d cope without her. Anyway, why are you here? I’ve been wearing the patches, and there’s been no—err—you know—funny business.”

  “I know. Megan seems a lot happier.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Megan had a word with me. She asked if I knew anything about teeth.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It seems that your fangs are freaking her out a little.”

  “Oh no. It’s not deliberate, I promise. It’s more of a reflex. I’m not even aware it’s happening. What did she say?”

  “She thinks you have some weird wisdom teeth thing going on.”

  “I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t know what I can do about the fangs.”

  “I may be able to help there.” I took out the note that Alan had given to me, and handed it to Ryan.

  “StopFangs? What’s this?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it. Apparently, it’s used by a lot of vampires who live in the human world. I don’t know exactly how it works, but it’s specifically designed to stop your fangs from making an appearance.”

  “That’s great, thanks. Do you know where I can find it?”

  “According to my contact, you can get it in any pharmacy in Candlefield.”

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

  “Before you start to use it, you’d better tell Megan you have to pay a visit to the dentist to sort out your ‘wisdom teeth’. If you don’t, she’s going to wonder what’s happened to them.”

  “Good idea. Thanks.”

  As I made my way back up the high street, I noticed that Top Of The World was doing a roaring trade. Norman was standing outside, enjoying a sausage roll.

  “Tea break, Norman?”

  As usual, it took a couple of minutes for the cogs to click into place.

  “I don’t like tea.”

  “Right, but you’re on a break?”

  “Yeah. I’m eating a sausage roll.”

  “So I see. Tell me, Norman, do you ever place a bet?”

  “What on?”

 

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