by Adele Abbott
“Great.”
Ten minutes later, and I’d barely managed to eat any of the meal. My stomach already felt as though it was about to burst, but I wasn’t too worried because I had a plan.
“Would you mind if I opened this window?” I said. “I’m a little warm.”
“Of course.”
Part one of the plan executed.
“That’s pretty.” I pointed.
As my father and Blodwyn followed my gaze, I grabbed the meat from my plate, and threw it out of the window.
“Do you mean the clock?” Blodwyn wore the same puzzled expression that I was growing accustomed to seeing.
“Yes. I like the font they’ve used for the numbers.”
“Whatever is wrong with those two?” My father was referring to the barking coming from the back garden.
Blodwyn stood up. “Daff! Dill! Be quiet!”
If she saw the meat, I’d have a lot of explaining to do.
“What’s wrong with them?” my father asked.
“They’re just acting crazy as usual.” She re-joined us at the table.
Phew! It seemed like I’d got away with it.
“Would you like pudding?” Blodwyn asked, when I finally admitted defeat with what was left of the main course.
“Not for me, thanks. I couldn’t eat another mouthful. That was a lovely meal.”
After they’d cleared the table, we all retired to the lounge.
“How did all this come about?” My father was in a rocking chair. “Your being able to travel to GT?”
“The original idea came from the police authorities here in Ghost Town. They wanted a sup who would be capable of working between all three worlds.”
“Can’t Mad do that?”
“Yes, but Mad is a parahuman; she isn’t a sup. She’s a brilliant ghost hunter, but she doesn’t have any magical powers, as such.”
“What sort of things will you be working on?” Blodwyn was seated next to me on the sofa.
“Long term, I’m not sure, but I’ve just taken on my first case.”
“Can you tell us anything about it?” My father stopped rocking just long enough to grab his cup of coffee.
“I don’t see why not. There have been reports of ghost trafficking. Ghosts, who have no one in the human world to whom they can attach themselves, are being sold the promise of a human host. It’s obviously some kind of scam because the people who have signed up have disappeared without a trace.”
“That’s terrible,” Blodwyn said. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure at the moment. I need to track what happens to those who sign up. I can’t sign up myself because I’m not a ghost, obviously.”
“I’ll do it.” My father volunteered.
“Thanks for the offer, but that wouldn’t work. It has to be someone who doesn’t have friends or relatives in the human world. These people can easily check that, and would know that you’re a fraud.”
“What about me?” Blodwyn said.
“No!” My father snapped. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Not if Jill has my back. I don’t have any relatives or friends left in the human world, so I’d get through their checks without any problems. What do you think, Jill?”
“Dad’s right. It could be dangerous.”
“Someone has to do it, Josh, otherwise that horrible trade will continue.”
“What would it involve, exactly?” My father still looked doubtful.
“I need someone to sign up for the Ghost Placement service so I can track them, and find out where they are being taken.”
“How do you plan on doing the tracking?”
“They’ll be wearing a tracking device.”
“Won’t they be checked for those?”
“Possibly, but we have some which are undetectable.”
“I’m up for it,” Blodwyn said.
“Are you positive that she’ll be safe, Jill?” My father turned to me.
“Yes, I’ll be with her every step of the way.”
I was so stuffed that I practically waddled back up the road. When I was out of sight of the house, I made a call to Mad.
“Hey, Jill. How goes it?”
“Okay, apart from my stomach.”
“Are you ill?”
“No. I’ve just eaten two Sunday lunches.”
“Why two?”
“It’s a long story. Look, the reason I called is to ask if you know much about tracking devices.”
“Not much, why?”
“I’ve just promised someone that we have some which are undetectable, so I thought I’d better find out if that was true.”
“I’m pretty sure they can all be detected in one way or another.”
Oh bum!
***
When I arrived home, Jack was standing in the lounge. He was still wearing his (horrible) bowling shirt, and was holding the largest trophy I’d ever seen.
“Had a good day, sweetie?” he greeted me, as soon as I walked in.
“Not bad.”
“I’ve had a really good day.” He had a silly grin on his face.
“That’s nice.”
“Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“About the trophy?”
“Oh, right. I hadn’t noticed that.”
“I won.”
“Congrats.”
“I think I might have to move the cosplay trophy upstairs, to make room for this one.”
“You’re not planning on keeping that monstrous thing in here, surely?”
“How else will anyone know I won?”
“Couldn’t I just snap a photo of you holding it? We could stick that somewhere, instead.”
“I suppose you’re right. This is rather large.”
“Step back so I can get you and that ginormous thing in the shot. Smile! Okay, now take it up to the spare bedroom.”
He started for the door. “I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”
Chapter 14
“I had no idea that cosplay could be so exciting.” Jack was spreading jam onto his toast.
“What flavour is that?” I turned the jar around. “Rhubarb? Seriously?”
“Jack Corner put me onto it. It was on special offer.”
“I’m not surprised. He probably can’t give the stuff away.”
“What’s wrong with rhubarb?”
“What’s right with it? We have plenty of strawberry or blackcurrant jam.”
“You have no sense of adventure, Jill.”
“I like my breakfasts to be traditional, and that means no rhubarb jam, thank you very much.”
“Mmm!” He took a bite and nodded his approval.
“Freak!”
“I bet Mum will like it.”
I’d been doing my best not to think about his mother’s visit. “What time is she coming?”
“Her train gets in at about four o’ clock. I’m going to get out of work early, to pick her up. You can come with me if you like?”
“I’d love to, but I’m going to be busy all day.”
“Not to worry. She’ll be here when you get home from work.”
“Do you think she’ll talk to me this time?”
“I hope you aren’t going to keep this up. Mum doesn’t have it in for you—it’s all in your mind.”
“Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean that your mother doesn’t hate me.”
“We ought to do something special for dinner.”
“Who is this ‘we’ you speak of? Have you managed to talk Brenda into coming around here to make dinner?”
“Very funny. I’ll make dinner. You’ll just have to keep Mum entertained.”
“What do you suggest? Juggling? How about a puppet show?”
I watched through the window, as Jack left for work. Across the road, Blake was just setting off too. That reminded me—I still hadn’t done anything yet about the blackmail threat he’d received. It occurred to me that p
erhaps he was over-reacting. Maybe the rogue retrievers would turn a blind eye, provided that the couple were not broadcasting their situation. It was still early, but I knew that Daze would already be up, so I gave her a call.
“Jill? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry for calling so early.”
“That’s okay. It’s just that phone calls at this time of day are usually bad news.”
“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?”
“Shoot.”
“If a sup and a human were living together as man and wife, and somehow word got out about the sup, would it be curtains for them?”
“Are you and Jack planning on getting married?”
“What? No. I’m not talking about me and Jack.”
“Right? So this is purely a hypothetical situation?”
“Yeah. Anyway, if word was to get out about the sup. Say you were to receive an anonymous tip-off—”
“Who from?”
“It’s anonymous. Remember?”
“Sorry. My brain isn’t in gear yet. Go on.”
“If you got an anonymous tip-off, would you always act on it, or would it depend on the couple, and the particular circumstances?”
“I’d have no choice. I would have to act on it.”
“That’s pretty harsh.”
“Those are the rules.”
“Okay, well thanks for the info, Daze, and sorry for calling so early.”
“That’s okay. Just don’t forget my invitation when you two tie the knot.”
***
Mrs V and Jules were both at their desks. The first thing I noticed was that the filing cabinet had been moved back to its spot near the window. The next thing I noticed was the stupid grin on both of their faces.
“Something tells me you two have some good news.”
“We won!” Jules blurted out.
“First prize in our classes.” Mrs V was a little more reserved, but only slightly. “First in tea cosies for me.”
“And first in hats for me.”
“That’s great. The identical patterns didn’t come back to haunt you, then?”
“It may have worked against us in the overall competition.” Mrs V conceded. “I came joint tenth.”
“I came joint tenth too!” Jules said.
“Well done, both of you. You should be very proud.”
I started for my office.
“Jill, hold on,” Mrs V called after me. “You haven’t forgotten our money, have you?”
“What money?”
“The money you were holding for our wager.”
“I assumed that as there was no clear winner in the overall competition, I’d get to keep that.”
They both gave me a look.
“Kidding. I was only kidding.”
Drat! I almost got away with it.
Winky was under the sofa, snoring. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I began to tiptoe over to my desk.
That’s when I spotted it.
Bob, the dead spider, was on the floor, under the window sill. Poor Winky—Bob’s death had hit him hard. Even so, I couldn’t allow the body to litter the floor. I would be doing Winky a favour if I disposed of it. That way, he might begin to get over his loss. I took a tissue from my pocket and used it to pick up the poor little fellow.
Wait a minute! Something wasn’t right. I opened up the tissue and stared at Bob.
Bob, the plastic spider!
“Winky! Get out here, right now!
He crawled out from under the sofa, still bleary-eyed. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to apologise once again for what happened with Bob. I still feel terrible about it.”
“And so you should, but I’m sure with the right support, I’ll get over it.”
“By support, I assume you mean salmon?”
“Yes. That does seem to help.”
“Okay. I’ll get some for you now. While I do, would you mind holding this plastic spider?”
Winky stared in horror at the spider on the tissue. “Ahh, right. I can explain.”
“Talk to the hand because I’m finished listening to your lies. You have fooled me for the last time. I’m done with you. Do you hear?”
“Loud and clear. Sorry.”
I went back to my desk.
“Does this mean that salmon is off the menu?” he said.
“Forever.”
Never again would I fall for one of his stupid tricks.
Daze may have got the wrong end of the stick when I’d spoken to her, but she’d made it quite clear that if Blake’s situation was made public, he’d be in for a whole world of hurt. I’d spent ages studying the blackmail note, but it had shed no clues on who the perpetrator might be. I decided to take a look through the blog which Jen had authored under the pseudonym of the Wizard’s Wife. Even though she had subsequently removed the blog, it wasn’t difficult to find a ‘cached’ version.
I spent the best part of two hours reading through every post. Apart from being mind-numbingly boring, I didn’t find a single post which contained sufficient information to give away the author’s identity. How then did the blackmailer identify Jen, and find out where she and Blake lived? It was always possible that Jen had said something out of turn IRL.
What? Of course I know what IRL means. I know all the acronyms. Oh, alright, if you must know, Jules told me that it stands for ‘In Real Life’.
Anyway, if Jen had said something IRL, the chances of me ever tracking down the blackmailer were somewhere south of zero. I did have one hunch, but only one, and it was a long-shot. For Blake’s sake, I hoped I was right.
***
Sounds coffee shop was located close to the Radio Wash studios. Lee Sparks’ online diary had included an entry for a meeting there with his ex-manager, Raymond Conway, on the morning of the murder. So far, I’d drawn a blank trying to get hold of Conway, so I decided to pay a visit to the coffee shop instead. Maybe someone there would remember seeing the two men on that fateful day.
“Hi.” The freckled-faced young man behind the counter had a gap between his two front teeth, which caused him to whistle when he spoke. “What can I get for you today?”
“A caramel latte, please.”
“Anything to go with that?”
“Do you have any muffins?”
“Sorry. There’s no call for them hereabouts.”
No call for muffins? What kind of hell hole had I just crawled into. “What do you have?”
“Cookies, brownies, giant custard creams, cupcakes—”
“Whoa! Rewind! Did you say custard creams?”
“Yeah, but we don’t have the regular ones. Just these giant ones.” He pointed to a plateful of the largest custard creams I’d ever seen.
“I’ll take one of those, please.”
“There you go.” He put it on a plate, and passed it to me. “I was beginning to think we’d made a mistake with these. That’s the only one I’ve sold this week. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just some information. I’m investigating the Lee Sparks murder.” I flashed him my business card. “Did he ever come in here?”
“He was always in here. Lee used to say that our coffee was the best he’d ever tasted. He often popped in on his way into the studio, and sometimes he would send his minions to get some for him.”
“His minions?”
“I shouldn’t call them that, but it’s how Lee referred to them. He’d often send his producer or manager to pick up a coffee for him.”
“Speaking of his manager, do you happen to recall seeing him and Lee in here on the day of the murder?”
“I’m not likely to forget it. They had a real slanging match. I had to have a word with them because they were upsetting the other customers.”
“Any idea what they were arguing about?”
“Not really. By the time they started getting loud, they were just throwing insults at one another.”
“Are you sure you can’t rem
ember anything specific that was said?”
“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble.”
“Provided you tell the truth, that won’t happen.”
“When his manager stormed out, he was still yelling at Lee. He said he was going to kill him, but people say that kind of thing all the time, don’t they?”
***
I was on my way to Aunt Lucy’s, and I was a little worried in case she and Monica had had a bust-up on their shopping expedition, and Aunt Lucy blamed me.
As soon as I walked through her front door, I could hear voices and laughter coming from the kitchen. That was a hopeful sign, at least. Even if the shopping trip had been a disaster, it sounded as though Aunt Lucy had got over it.
“Jill? Is it that time already? Come in.”
As I stepped into the kitchen, I did a double-take. Seated at the table was Monica.
“Hi, Jill.” She stood up. “I’d better get going. I only popped over for a quick chat with your Aunt.”
“There’s no need for you to rush off,” Aunt Lucy said. “Stay a few more minutes.”
“Thanks, but I have things I need to do. The cake was really lovely.”
“Drop by anytime. Don’t wait to be invited.”
“Will do. Bye, then.”
“I’m guessing the shopping expedition was a success?” I said, after Monica had left.
“It was a brilliant idea of yours, Jill. I’ve got the perfect dress, thanks to Monica.”
“You two hit it off, then?”
“I don’t mind admitting that I was wrong about that young lady. She’s an absolute darling.”
“Lester must have been pleased to hear you say that.”
“He was, and I’ve apologised to him for being so unreasonable before. Anyway, would you like to see the dress?”
“I’d love to, but not right now. I’d like to get moving on the Best Cakes plan if you’re still up for it.”
“Definitely. I’m excited about helping, but I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
Chapter 15
“Are you sure this is going to work, Jill?” Aunt Lucy sounded much less enthusiastic after I’d outlined my brilliant (crazy?) plan.
“Absolutely.” I figured if I sounded confident that she wouldn’t realise I was just winging it.
