Witchy Riches (Witchy Fingers Book 4)

by Nic Saint

  “Was Mr. Brevity helping you? Financially, I mean?” asked Pierre.

  “Yes, he was,” Ettrick acknowledged. “He was trying to help me get back on my feet. He was very sorry when he had to let me go, but he couldn’t keep me on. His board of directors would never have allowed it. He tried to help me by throwing me a bone from time to time, but even that was hard to get away with. Ridiculous,” he scoffed, “that you can’t do what you want in your own damn bank.”

  “So you lost him a great deal of money, did you?” asked Pierre.

  “I lost his bank a great deal of money,” Ettrick corrected.

  “When was this?” asked Sam.

  “About a year ago. A little less.”

  “And Mr. Brevity still considered you a friend? In spite of the incident?”

  A grin crept up the man’s ruddy face. “Oh, I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to frame me for Yehudi’s murder. You’re wondering if I killed him out of spite—because I lost everything and he didn’t.” He leaned forward, pointing with his Bud and spilling some brew on the floor. “Well, let me tell you about Yehudi. He was a great friend. It wasn’t his fault that I lost his bank a fortune, and it wasn’t his fault I got canned. He was my friend before and after. Our friendship was never affected, not in the least. I loved that guy.” A tear now stole down his cheek. “He was a great friend! And he fought like a lion for me!”

  “So you didn’t kill him?” asked Sam, just to be clear.

  “Of course I didn’t kill him!” cried the guy. “Whoever did must have hated his guts. A hatchet to the face? What kind of maniac does that?! If I were you I’d take a closer look at Dick and Harry. They’re the ones with a grudge.”

  “Dick and Harry? You mean Richard Dogwood and Harry Jowitt?”

  “Sure. The four of us used to go fishing together. Tom, Dick, Harry and Yehudi. We used to make fun of him. He was the odd one out.”

  “And why would they be holding a grudge?” asked Pierre.

  "Dick and Harry used to work for Yehudi too. We'd call ourselves the four musketeers of banking." He shook his head sadly. "Only Dick caused even more trouble for Yehudi than I did. Turns out he was embezzling funds. Funneling off millions into his personal accounts in the Cayman Islands. There was an audit and the fraud was discovered and Dick fired, charges brought against him." He looked up, his eyes feverish and red-rimmed. "He embezzled four million dollars, if you can believe it. Yehudi was furious."

  “What about…” Sam checked his notebook. “Harry Jowitt?”

  “Well, Harry and Dick were friends even before they started working for Yehudi, so when Dick was fired, Harry took his side and resigned.”

  “So they would have had a strong motive to wreak vengeance on their erstwhile friend,” said Pierre, nodding.

  “Yeah, suffice it to say we never took a fishing trip after that,” Tom said. “Such a tragedy, too. The four musketeers. And then all this happened…”

  The interview over, Sam and Pierre got back into the car and Sam checked the police database for information on Richard Dogwood and Harry Jowitt. He quickly found the details on the embezzlement charge Brevity had brought against his former friend and associate.

  “Ettrick wasn’t lying,” he said as he scanned the file. “Listen to this. This Dick Dogwood embezzled funds to the tune of four million dollars by setting up a fake company that would bill him non-existent services. Once he got going nicely, he couldn’t stop, he told the interviewing officers. Said he never meant things to get out of control but he’d become accustomed to a certain lifestyle and so had his wife and kids. Said four million wasn’t a lot and Brevity Bank never missed the funds. If Yehudi hadn’t ordered this audit…”

  Pierre whistled through his teeth. “That’s a great motive for murder,” he said, “although even if Brevity is dead, that lawsuit isn’t going away, is it?”

  “No, it’s not,” confirmed Sam, frowning as he read some more. “The bank filed charges again Dogwood, not Brevity. So whatever happens, Dogwood’s gonna pay.”

  “So much for the motive,” said Pierre. “Unless he just wanted revenge.”

  “But that would only make things worse for him,” argued Sam. “The punishment for murder is a lot worse than for embezzlement. He’s looking at actual jail time if he gets caught.”

  “Let’s pay him a little visit,” said Pierre. “And Harry, too.”

  Sam shook his head. “Tom, Dick and Harry. You can’t make this stuff up.”

  “No, you can’t,” said Pierre with a grin as he started the car.

  Chapter 20

  Before they paid a visit to Dick and Harry, though, the detecting duo first had another witness to tackle, and a formidable one at that. Yehudi Brevity had been a married man, once upon a time, and the former Mrs. Brevity might have some light to shed on her former husband’s personal life that no one else could. She lived not too far from where Brevity had lived, in a nice villa down a cul-de-sac.

  Zaida Brevity—née Boat, was a spreading woman of imperial aspect, and when Sam and Pierre entered Casa Zaida, as she'd christened the place, they were impressed with the kitschy artwork that adorned the walls of the hallway, and when they were led into the verandah, even more by the ornateness of the furniture and the smattering of little knickknacks that covered every available surface. When Brevity divorced, he hadn't merely lost a wife, but a good chunk of his fortune, too, apparently.

  “What’s this all about?” the lady asked as she rose from her seat, idly stroking a little white Chihuahua that was practically smothered by her bosom.

  “It’s about your ex-husband, Mrs. Brevity,” said Sam. “We understand that you were already made aware of his unfortunate death?”

  “Yes, I was,” she confirmed. “By a very insolent young policewoman, who seemed to think the tragedy was a laughing matter, judging from the stupid grin on her face.”

  “I’m sure she was just trying to be nice,” said Sam soothingly.

  “Well, she was doing a piss-poor job,” said Mrs. Brevity. “She looked like a simpering fool and I kicked her out the moment she tried to set foot inside. She didn’t even have a warrant! I know my rights as well as the next person.”

  “She wasn’t trying to have the place searched, ma’am,” said Pierre. “She just wanted to convey the message that your ex-husband was murdered.”

  “Oh, dear,” said the woman, her three chins quivering with abhorrence. “Who can feel safe at home when the police allow monsters like this to roam free?” She fixed them both with a glowering look. “When are you finally going to end this wave of violence and lock up all these monsters where they belong? Or, better yet, bring back capital punishment and make them pay for what they’re doing to our community?!” She raised an admonishing finger. “I believe in an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth! As the Good Book says!”

  “Well, we’re cops, ma’am,” said Sam with a grimace. “Not politicians.”

  “Yes, it’s not up to us to bring back capital punishment,” added Pierre.

  “It should be! We should all endeavor to rid our streets of this scum.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “We’d like to know if you and Yehudi kept in touch, Mrs. Brevity, and if there’s anything you can tell us that would help us find his murderer.”

  She raised her chins. “Yehudi and I hadn’t spoken ever since he got involved with that young treacherous wench.”

  “What young treacherous wench would that be?” asked Sam. This was the first Sam heard about another woman in Brevity’s life.

  She clucked loudly. “And you call yourself a detective! Go out there and detect, detective! The woman likes to call herself Mrs. Brevity these days. As if anyone can replace me!”

  “What’s the name of this woman?” asked Sam.

  “Salina Nourse. Nothing but a common gold-digger, detectives, as you’ll find when you interview her and consequently charge her with murder. I warned Yehudi about her many times, but he wouldn’t listen. And n
ow see what happened.”

  “Do you think this Miss Nourse had something to do with the murder of your ex-husband, Mrs. Brevity?” asked Pierre.

  “Of course she did!” she barked. “A scarlet woman like that, she would do anything to get her hands on my Yehudi’s money.”

  Yehudi Brevity hadn’t been hers for a long time, Sam knew, and during the acrimonious divorce she’d easily taken unto half his fortune. But obviously this wasn’t enough. “Wouldn’t Miss Nourse have waited until after the wedding to murder Mr. Brevity? Now she won’t get a penny,” said Sam.

  “Well, they were married, weren’t they?” she asked now. And when she saw their surprise, she shook her head in dismay. “Honestly. The quality of policemen these days isn’t what it used to be. Haven’t you even checked the marital state of the victim of this heinous crime? Yehudi married Salina Nourse last month! In a quiet little ceremony on his property. He brought in a priest and a few of his and her friends. So you see,” she concluded with a look of triumph at the puzzled looks of Sam and Pierre, “she had a clear motive to kill my husband, and I’m sure she had access to a hatchet, too.”

  Sam exchanged a quick look with his partner. Now this was a development he hadn’t seen coming. How hadn’t they been informed about the wedding?

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brevity,” he said, rising.

  “You will find the little bitch at the Ritz,” said Zaida Brevity, “where she keeps a suite. Even after the wedding she kept the suite, and liked to spend most of her time in the city and not down here by her husband’s side as she should.” She shook her head. “A clear sign she wasn’t interested in Yehudi at all, but only in the vast fortune she stood to inherit upon his untimely death.”

  A vast fortune the former Mrs. Brevity now wouldn’t inherit, Sam knew, which obviously irked her a great deal more than the death of her ex-husband.

  As they stepped out of the house, he told Pierre in an undertone, “How did we miss this? Why weren’t we informed about this wedding?”

  Pierre shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to keep it quiet?”

  “Or maybe someone somewhere screwed up,” Sam grumbled.

  Suddenly, his phone beeped and he cursed loudly. But when he saw the message Edie had sent him, his lips curled up into a grin. “Are you up for a little diving tonight, buddy?”

  Pierre’s eyebrows rose. “The treasure hunt is on?”

  “Looks that way,” grunted Sam. “They found a boat and flippers.”

  “I’m up for it if you’re up for it.”

  “Oh, I’m up for it, all right,” said Sam. “I promised Edie I’d dive for treasure, so dive for treasure I will. No chance I’m weaseling out now.”

  Chapter 21

  All was set for tonight except the location of the treasure, which Captain Suggur would reveal at the last possible moment to the first team to arrive.

  “I don’t think it’s going to get to the point where we actually have to compete against Clive,” Edie said now.

  We were once again seated around the kitchen table, only this time it was just the three of us, Gran walking in and out of the kitchen, shaking her head every time she overheard our conversation. She didn’t seem to feel that hunting treasure was an endeavor worth our time and effort and made it clear without uttering a single word.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “The guy is trying to find the treasure first. Obviously we’re competing against him. And he just might succeed, too.”

  “It doesn’t really matter, does it? The important thing is that the treasure is found, and handed over to the descendants of Lord Dockland. That way Captain Suggur can finally rest in peace.”

  That was true enough, of course, but there was one thing she was forgetting. “I’m not sure Clive can be trusted to deliver that treasure,” I said. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to keep it for himself, and sell it to the highest bidder. Just like those goons who stole Kim Kardashian’s engagement ring.”

  Edie frowned at me, clearly not understanding what Kim Kardashian had to do with Captain Suggur’s treasure. Which just goes to show that when you spend your life reading obscure books by obscure writers you get totally out of touch with the real world, as I’ve pointed out to her many times.

  “Clive never struck me as a thief,” Ernestine said, now also weighing in.

  “How do you know?” I asked. “He could simply be one of those guys that become thieves when opportunity knocks. It doesn’t happen every day that you’re approached by the ghost of a dead captain who tells you about a massive treasure right under your nose. And I don’t think a lifeguard makes a lot of money.”

  Stien shook her head. “This is all conjecture. Where is the evidence?”

  “Look, we don’t really know Clive, do we? For all we know he could be a crook who temps as a lifeguard,” I pointed out. “In between regular stints at the local jail he saves lives from time to time. I think we need to get there first and make sure Clive isn’t tempted to steal our treasure.”

  “Captain Suggur’s treasure,” said Ernestine.

  Edie just shrugged. “If that’s how you feel.”

  “Yes, it is how I feel. And very strongly, too.” They hadn’t seen Clive after he saw me chatting with the captain. He had that sinister look in his eyes only real criminals get. It could only mean one thing: he wasn’t the fun-loving, sweet-tempered lifeguard we all knew and loved but a hardened criminal.

  “Strel is right,” said Ernestine now, much to my surprise.

  “You think Clive is a crook?” asked Edie, also surprised.

  “Not necessarily,” said Ernestine, hedging her bets. “But it doesn’t hurt to beat him to the treasure and make sure it gets delivered to the right person.”

  Edie nodded. “I guess it can’t hurt to make sure Dockland gets the stuff.”

  “We have our client’s interest to consider,” Ernestine added. “And if Clive gets there first, we should keep an eye on the proceedings, and see to it that he hands the treasure over to its rightful owners.”

  “We don’t have to keep an eye on proceedings!” I cried, punching the table and hurting my hand in the process. I don’t know how people do that without hurting themselves, but then I’ve always been a small-boned person. “We need to get there first and snatch that treasure out in front of Clive’s nose!”

  “How do you even know there is a treasure?” asked Edie, still adamant to provide the discordant note. “For all we know that treasure is long gone, and this Captain Hayes Suggur is simply a fruitcake.”

  “Well, fruitcake or not, we still owe it to him to have a look,” I said.

  “All right. So everything is set for midnight?” asked Ernestine, checking her watch. For a moment I thought she was going to tell us to synchronize our watches, like they do in the movies, but she didn’t.

  “Yes, we’re all set for midnight,” I said.

  “I just hope this captain Skip found can be trusted,” said Edie.

  “And be trusted to keep his mouth shut,” added Ernestine.

  "He will, once we give him a piece of the treasure," I said. "Those crusty old seamen can be very tight-lipped when it serves them." I held up my hand. "So we're doing this?"

  My sisters also held up their hands. “Yes, we are,” said Edie with a rare grin, and Ernestine chimed in that Operation Albion was a go. And we were just high-fiving when Gran walked in and gave us an eye-roll.

  “Wanna join us, Gran?” asked Edie with a wink at me.

  “Never,” she said as she started removing foodstuffs from the fridge in preparation for dinner. “Diving for treasure indeed. All you’ll find down there are mean old sharks who will snap at your feet and try to eat you.”

  “Well, we’re not going down there,” I told her. “We’ll stay in the boat.”

  “Then be prepared to see your future husbands devoured by the biggest, meanest sharks you’ve ever seen,” she said as she slapped a chicken breast on a chopping board and started trimming off the fat.


  “There are no sharks out there, are there?” asked Edie, looking worried.

  “She’s just messing with us,” I assured her. “We’re going to find that treasure, Gran. It’s the right thing to do when you’re asked by an old ghost.”

  But Gran merely shook her head, clearly not approving of this nonsense. “If I told you once I told you a million times. You can’t just take any old loser on as a client. This Captain Suggur may well be a front for something truly evil and mean for all you know.”

  “He’s not evil and mean,” I said. “He’s just a nice old ghost who wants to fulfill the mission he started and then be on his merry way. Right?” I asked her. I was starting to get worried, too, a little bit. When Gran starts bandying about the words ‘evil’ and ‘mean’ it usually means something.

  She fixed me with a serious look. “Watch your back is all I’m saying. Or else you’re in for a big surprise. Now what do you want with your chicken?”

  I stared at her. “What aren’t you telling us, Gran?” I asked. “I really want to know,” I added, but she shook her head.

  “Just telling you to watch your step,” she said. “And be careful out there.”

  “Did you know that Clive Gleeson is also looking for the same treasure?” asked Edie, popping a grape into her mouth.

  Gran smiled. “Oh, you mean that nice lifeguard?”

  “The same one,” I said, watching her closely. She doesn’t like to reveal what she’s up to, but this time I needed to know what she knew.

  “Good for him,” she said with a smile. “I hope he finds what he’s looking for.”

  “Will he? Find what’s he looking for?” I asked, a little tensely.

  She frowned, not looking up from the cutting board. “What do you think I have? A crystal ball? How would I know what he’s going to find tonight?”