by Adele Abbott
“Oh dear.” She laughed. “I don’t know how they keep coming up with these crazy ideas.” She turned to the counter. “Amber! Bring Jill her usual, would you?”
“Thanks, Aunt Lucy.”
“It’s the least I can do. I owe you for helping me out with the dress for the dinner and dance.”
“I didn’t do anything. That was down to Monica.”
“I know, but if it hadn’t been for you, I would never have contacted her.”
“How was the dance?”
“I really enjoyed it. I’d been expecting the worst, but it turns out that grim reapers really know how to have a good time. I suppose if you do that for a living, you need to be able to let your hair down.”
“Does that mean you don’t mind Lester doing the job now?”
“I’d still rather he did something else, but I don’t feel as bad about it as I did.”
“There you are!” Amber slammed down the drink and muffin, and then went back to the counter.
“I don’t think she’s forgiven me yet.”
“Don’t look now, but there’s someone headed this way.” Aunt Lucy gestured towards the door.
Why do people say: ‘Don’t look now’? It always results in the exact opposite reaction.
“Miles?”
“I thought I saw you in here!” His face was so red it looked as though it would explode at any moment.
“Is there a problem?”
“Is there a problem?” He mocked. “What do you think?”
“I’m guessing ‘yes’, but I have no idea what.”
“Why did you get Mindy to dump me?”
“I did no such thing.”
“You were the one who found out she’d been sabotaging the muffins.”
“She told you it was her?”
“Yes. Just before she said she never wanted to see me again.”
“That’s hardly my fault. Don’t you think it might have more to do with the fact that you were cheating on her with Flora and/or Laura?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“No, but it’s certainly Mindy’s business, and if she has dumped you, I can’t say I blame her. You had it coming.”
“You’ll regret this.”
“Have you forgotten our agreement? I was to find out who was sabotaging your cakes, and you were to halt all vendettas against me and my family.”
“You can forget that!”
“You’re going back on your word?”
“That agreement ended the moment you turned Mindy against me.” He started towards the door. “You’ll rue the day.”
“Nice talking to you, too, Miles. Don’t be a stranger.”
***
I magicked myself back to Washbridge, to pick up the car. It was a thirty-minute drive to the prison where Kylie was being held, and I wasn’t looking forward to telling her the bad news.
I’d just parked in the prison car park when my phone rang. It was a very excited Blaze.
“Mission accomplished, Jill.”
“That’s great. Any problems?”
“Not really. The wizards are all behind bars back in Candlefield. There were a couple of ghosts in the factory, waiting to be sent out to a funfair. They’d already been injected with the formula so we couldn’t send them straight back to GT.”
“Where are they now?”
“Daze said they could stay with her overnight until the formula wears off.”
“Thanks, Blaze. Sounds like a job well done.”
“My pleasure, Jill. It was nice to get the chance to run a mission for a change.”
Kylie’s hopeful expression made what I was about to say even harder.
“I’m afraid that so far I haven’t managed to come up with anything that is going to help you.”
It was as though someone had knocked all the air out of her. She sank forward in her chair, and began to sob.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Lee. I can’t stay in here. I’ll never survive.”
“You mustn’t give up hope. I’m going to carry on with the investigation.”
“I’m done for.”
She wept for several minutes. Nothing I could have said at that point would have helped, so I allowed her to get it out of her system.
***
Jenny Black, one of the cleaners at Radio Wash had given me the phone number of her boss, a Mrs Draycott. I wanted to find out from her if anyone else had the combination to the rear door lock.
I called the number, and it rang out for quite a while. I was just about to give up when someone answered.
“Hello?” The female voice was barely audible.
“Is that Mrs Draycott?”
“Who’s this?”
“Jenny Black gave me your number. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m investigating the murder of Lee Sparks.”
“This isn’t a good time. I haven’t been well.”
“I’m really sorry to trouble you just now, but I wondered if you’d answer a couple of quick questions.”
“Are you the police?”
“No. I’m a private investigator.”
“Who are you working for?”
“Doris Jay. Kylie’s—”
“I know Doris.”
“Oh? I just wanted to ask if you knew of anyone else who would have access to the rear door of the radio station? Apart from you and the other cleaners?”
“Only the security men, but Doris would already know that.”
“How would she know?”
“Doris used to work at the station. In fact, she was my boss until she decided to retire. I took her job; Susie took mine.”
“Doris Jay was on the cleaning staff at the radio station?”
“Until about six months ago, yes. How is Doris holding up?”
“She’s doing okay under the circumstances.”
“Are you sure? The last time I bumped into her, a couple of months back, she was still beating herself up for getting Kylie into this mess.”
“How do you mean?”
“Didn’t you know? Doris was the one who introduced Kylie to Sparks. It was not long after Sparks started here, and before we all knew what he was really like. Kylie would often drop into the station to see her mum.”
“Right. Just one last question: Has the combination for the rear door been changed since Doris left her job?”
“It hasn’t been changed in years, as far as I’m aware.”
“I see. Thank you for your help. I hope you feel better soon.”
Suddenly, everything began to make sense.
Chapter 24
I’d arranged to meet with Doris Jay at her house.
“Come in, Jill. I hope you have some good news for me. Kylie is beginning to despair.”
“I know. I went to see her this morning.”
“You did?”
“I promised that I’d keep her posted on my investigation.”
“Of course. Were you able to put her mind at ease? Have you identified any other suspects?”
“Just one.”
“I suppose that’s better than nothing. Have you informed the police of your findings?”
“I’m hoping that you’ll do that for me.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You clearly love your daughter, Doris. That’s why I don’t understand how you could allow her to spend so long locked up like this.”
“I still don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. You used to work at Radio Wash as a cleaner, didn’t you?”
“Err—yes, but that’s a while ago now.”
“And it was you who originally introduced Kylie to Lee Sparks.”
The colour drained from her face. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Please do. You blamed yourself for the predicament that Kylie found herself in, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. It was just after Sparks joined the station. He seemed okay at first. Kylie often used to come and see me at work. I was cleaning
his studio before his show was due to go on air. Kylie was with me when Sparks walked in. She was thrilled to meet him, but I never thought anything would come of it.”
“But it did.”
“He asked her for her phone number. I didn’t even know he’d done it. The next thing I knew, they were an item. If I could go back in time, I would never have let him get anywhere near my little baby.”
“Did she tell you how he mistreated her?”
“She didn’t need to. I saw the change in her, and I knew what had caused it.”
“Why were you at Kylie’s apartment on the morning of the murder?”
“She’d phoned me the night before, in hysterics. I went around there to make sure that she was okay, and to tell her to dump him once and for all.”
“But she wouldn’t?”
“She was still besotted with him. It was like he had some kind of power over her.”
“So you decided to do something about it yourself. That’s why you took the knife from Kylie’s flat.”
“I only intended to warn him off, but he just laughed. The next thing I knew, he was bleeding. I don’t even remember doing it.”
“Didn’t it occur to you that Kylie’s prints might already be on the knife?”
“I never even thought about it. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Why didn’t they find your prints on there too?”
“I was wearing gloves that morning because it was cold.”
“What I really don’t understand is why you would let Kylie take the fall.”
“I thought once the police realised that Kylie wasn’t the murderer, they’d release her. That’s why I came to you. I knew there were plenty of other people who hated Sparks. I thought if you could come up with some other possible suspects, it might convince the police to let Kylie go.”
“You know what you have to do now, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I’ll go to the police station, and hand myself in, but would you mind doing me a favour, Jill?”
“If I can.”
“Tell Kylie I’m sorry for putting her through all of this.”
I didn’t feel it was necessary to accompany Doris Jay to the police station because there was no doubt in my mind that she would make a full confession. I still couldn’t understand why Doris hadn’t come forward as soon as her daughter was arrested. She may have been afraid, and hoped that the police or I would uncover other suspects, but that was irrelevant. She should have confessed there and then. Even the short length of time that Kylie had spent behind bars could have damaged her irreparably. And how was Kylie going to feel when she discovered that her mother was the murderer, and that she had failed to come forward immediately?
And, who was going to pay my bill now? Doris Jay would be behind bars for a very long time—quite possibly the rest of her life. That was not going to help my year-end figures.
***
Mrs V was back at her desk.
“How’s the foot, Mrs V?”
“Much better. My new chiropodist is an absolute whizz with corns. I’ll let you have his number.”
“I don’t have corns.”
“Not now, maybe, but at your age, it’s only a matter of time.”
At my age?
She scribbled his number on a scrap of paper, and handed it to me. Jules was enjoying this way too much for my liking.
Winky was on his phone again, and far too engrossed to notice me. “Yeah. We have to do it on Tuesday. Once we’ve got it, we’ll be rich.” He ended the call, then turned around, and noticed I was standing there. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Nothing. I just walked in the door.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Why? What’s so top secret?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
I’d barely had time to sit down at my desk when Grandma appeared. Mrs V and Jules hadn’t even tried to stop her—they’d obviously realised it would be a waste of time.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the screen test this afternoon?” I said.
“Aren’t ‘we’, don’t you mean? And yes, we are.”
“Hold on. I never said I’d go with you.”
“You didn’t need to. I did.”
“I happen to be busy.”
“Very amusing. Come on! Grab your bag.”
“I’m not sure the studio will allow you to bring someone with you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. They make a point of saying we can bring one friend or relative along if we want to.”
Drat!
“Are we going to magic ourselves there?”
“No, I thought you could drive. I can practise my lines in the car en-route.”
It was a fifty-mile trip to Swing Slide Studios, but it felt more like a thousand. Grandma’s audition piece comprised of no more than a dozen lines, but she must have read them out loud at least a million times.
No exaggeration.
On each read-thru, she tried to vary her performance in some way, but they all had one thing in common. They were all wooden.
“What do you think, Jill?” she asked, after attempt number six-thousand and seventy-two.
“Very good.”
“Do you prefer that one to the one before?”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I think I do.”
“Me too. That one was definitely better.”
Once Grandma and I had signed in at reception, we were escorted to a small set where the director, Jordan Warewithall, greeted everyone, “Welcome one and all. I’m very excited to meet you, and very much looking forward to seeing your screen tests. At the end of today, we’ll choose one of you to take the part of Esmeralda. The important thing is that you try to relax and enjoy yourself.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” Grandma said, under her breath. “The important thing is that I get the part.”
“You can only do your best,” I whispered. “You mustn’t be too disappointed if you don’t get it.”
“What kind of loser attitude is that? Just look at this crowd. Not one of them would make a good witch.”
Grandma and I were the only sups present. It was certainly true that she was the only one there who actually looked the part, but would that be enough? Having heard her practising her lines, I seriously doubted it.
The director continued, “You’ll be called one-by-one, first to make-up, and then to your screen test. Any questions?”
Only one person raised a hand, and there are no prizes for guessing who that was.
“How much does this pay?”
“The full details of the contract will be ironed out with the successful candidate.”
“Will this part get star billing?”
“We won’t think about screen credits until much later.” The director looked around. “Anyone else have a question? No? In that case, I’ll see each of you later, in front of the camera.”
Moments later, the first woman was called through to make-up. After another thirty minutes, a second woman was called. When the first woman returned from her screen test, everyone swarmed around her, to ask how it went—everyone except Grandma.
“Don’t you want to know how she went on?”
“Why would I care? This is all just a formality.”
“Mirabel Millbright!” The make-up woman called.
“Shall I wait here?” I asked.
“No. Come with me. I want you to see this, so you can report back to everyone on my success.”
Oh boy!
The make-up woman looked rather harassed. “Do I call you Mirabel?”
“Mrs Millbright will do fine.”
“I see you applied your own make-up before you came. I’m afraid that wart will have to go. It’s a nice attempt, but it isn’t very realistic.”
“Could I have a quick word?” I grabbed the woman’s arm, and dragged her to the other side of the room.
“What is it? I’m really pushed for time.”
“The wart on h
er nose is real,” I said, in a hushed voice.
She laughed. “That’s very funny.”
“I’m being serious. It’s real. If you cut it off, there’ll be blood everywhere.”
“Oh, my goodness.” She sounded horrified. “Thank you for warning me.”
She walked back over to Grandma, who looked all set to rip the poor woman’s head off.
“Just a little blusher, then,” the make-up woman said. “There, that’s fine. Off you go, through that door over there.”
“What did you say to that stupid woman?” Grandma demanded.
“I—err—asked if she was having trouble with her eyesight. She seemed to be squinting. Apparently, she left her glasses at home this morning.”
“Sheer incompetence. How do I look?”
“You look great.”
“Mirabel Millbright!” The director beckoned for us to join him. “This is Lucy Potts, she plays the part of your daughter.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mirabel.” Lucy smiled.
“You’re a bit old for the part, aren’t you, dear?” Grandma looked her up and down.
“Err—right—if everyone is ready.” The director had one of his minions lead Grandma and Lucy onto the set. I stayed behind the cameras.
Once everyone was in position, the director called, “Action!”
If you try to imagine how bad it was, and then multiply it by one hundred, you still wouldn’t be close. It wasn’t just that Grandma kept forgetting her lines; she also insisted on berating her fellow actor and even the director, at every opportunity.
“Right! That’s a wrap!” the director shouted.
“I think we need one more take,” Grandma suggested. “I could add a little more passion to that final line.”
“No need. That last take was—err—perfect. Thank you, Mirabel.”
“When do we get to talk about the contract?” Grandma asked.
“Those discussions will take place later, after we’ve finished all of the auditions.”
“I could tell the others to go home now, if you like?” Grandma offered. “That would save us all some time.”
“Err—no—thanks. After they’ve travelled all this way, I think it’s only fair they get their turn in front of the camera.”
“How much longer is all of this going to take?” Grandma complained to me, an hour later.
