by Adele Abbott
“Let’s go through to the Long Room.”
“Do you still need me, Sir?” Hastings said.
“No, that will be all for now.”
The Long Room was certainly long, but a room? Not so much. Anyone else would have called it a corridor because it was narrow and ran from one side of the building to the other.
“Have a seat.” Sir Arthur pointed to a red chaise longue.
“Thank you.” As soon as I sat on it, a cloud of dust shot out of the seat, and it took several minutes for me to stop sneezing.
“Hay fever?” Sir Arthur had poured himself another large whisky from somewhere.
“No, just a tickly nose. So, if you could tell me what it is you need my help with?”
“Certainly. Something rather tragic has happened.”
“Oh?”
“A number of items of my wife’s jewellery have gone missing over the last two weeks. Expensive pieces, you understand.” His gaze came to rest on my bracelet. “Not tat.”
“Your wife? I didn’t realise you were married. Is your wife here today?”
“Geraldine? No, she died a month ago. Didn’t I mention that?”
“Actually, no.”
I could barely believe my ears. He was apparently devastated by the jewellery theft, but hadn’t bothered to mention that his wife had recently died.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“The jewellery isn’t lost. I told you—someone stole it.”
“I meant the loss of your wife.”
“Oh that? Of course. Anyway, about the jewellery. Do you think you’ll be able to find who’s behind the thefts?”
“Possibly. Was there a break-in?”
“No, nothing like that. I think it may be an inside job.”
“Have you contacted the police?”
“Certainly not. I don’t want everyone knowing my business. I assume that whatever you and I discuss is confidential.”
“Of course. Do you suspect anyone in particular?”
“I certainly do. Geraldine’s sister, Joanne, has been sniffing around a lot recently. I wouldn’t put it past her. And then there’s Mrs Sykes.”
“Who’s she?”
“She used to be our housekeeper, but I let her go not long after Geraldine passed away.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Gross misconduct. The way that woman spoke to me was simply unacceptable. I’d been wanting to get rid of her for ages, but Geraldine wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Did your wife leave a Will?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“I just wondered if—”
“There is no Will. She never got around to it.”
“Right. Do you happen to have photographs of the missing jewellery, by any chance?”
“I do as it happens. I took them only a few days before they were stolen.” He reached inside his jacket pocket. “There you are.”
“That should help. It’s quite fortunate that you happened to take the photos when you did.”
“I needed them for the listings.”
“Listings?”
“Yes, I was planning to sell them.”
“Don’t they have sentimental value for you?”
“I can’t spend sentiment, my dear. This house requires a small fortune in upkeep.”
Probably not as much cash as his whisky habit, though.
I would normally have stuck around to ask more questions, but being in the same room as Sir Arthur made me feel so dirty that I just wanted to get out of that place.
“When can I expect to hear from you?” Sir Arthur asked when Hastings came to collect me.
“Hopefully within a few days.”
“Excellent. Maybe I’ll give you a return match when you come back.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
“How can you do that?” I asked Hastings as he showed me out.
“Do what, Madam?”
“Help him to cheat like that?”
“I’m sorry, Madam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Back in the car, I took a closer look at the photographs. On the back of each one, someone—presumably Sir Arthur, had written a short description and a valuation. The amounts were eye-watering. If those figures were accurate, the bracelet, ring and necklace were worth a combined value of just under twenty-thousand pounds.
The man had been so loathsome that I’d been sorely tempted to tell him where he could stick his case, but I wasn’t in a position to pick and choose my clients. Luther had warned me that if things didn’t improve soon, the business would go to the wall. I might not like Sir Arthur (understatement of the year), but he was a paying client, and goodness knows I needed as many of those as I could get.
Chapter 14
After being in the company of that despicable human being, I figured I deserved a treat, so after I’d driven back to Washbridge and parked the car, I magicked myself over to Cuppy C.
It was Monday, so neither of the twins was in the shop. Mindy was behind the counter, and as soon as I saw her, I could tell something was wrong; she looked as though she’d been crying.
“Mindy? What’s the matter?”
“I’m okay.” She snuffled. “I just have a runny nose.”
“Have you been crying?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It must be something.” I glanced over at the cake shop where two assistants were behind the counter. One of them was the new recruit.
“Gloria! Take over in here for a few minutes, would you?”
She seemed surprised that I should be handing out orders, but she came through anyway.
“Come on.” I took Mindy’s hand. “Let’s go and have a seat.” I led the way to the table furthest from the counter, so we couldn’t be overheard by the staff. Fortunately, the shop was quiet—presumably the sup flu was still taking its toll.
We sat in silence for a few minutes while I waited for Mindy to compose herself.
“Some money has gone missing.” She managed eventually. “I didn’t take it—I swear.”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday. The twins weren’t here, so I was in charge, and when I came to cash up, there was sixty-pounds missing.”
“Sixty-pounds exactly?”
“Yeah. When the twins find out, they’re bound to think I’ve taken it, and sack me.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I wouldn’t blame them if they did. Not after all the trouble I caused them when I was with Miles. Why should they believe me when I tell them I didn’t have anything to do with it?” She wiped her eyes. “The thing is, Jill, I really need this job. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose it. And I’ll never get another one if people think I’m a thief.”
“You’re not a thief.”
“You believe me, then?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
“Thanks, that really means a lot.”
I took out my purse and handed her three twenty-pound notes. “Put this with yesterday’s cash.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“It’s just a loan until we find out what happened.”
“What about the twins? What shall I tell them?”
“There’s no reason to tell them anything. I won’t mention it.”
“Thanks, Jill.” She threw her arms around me and began to sob. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“It’s okay, but there is something I’d like you to do for me in return.”
“Of course.” She released her bear hug. “Anything.”
“I’m spitting feathers here. Can you get me a latte and a blueberry muffin?”
“Coming straight up.”
What? Who are you calling a big softie?
I’d almost finished my coffee and muffin when Alan came through the door.
“Hey, Jill, would you like another drink?”
“No, thanks. Better not.”
; Once he had his coffee, he came over to join me.
“Aren’t you at work today?” I said.
“No, I’ve got two days off. Pearl sent me out to do some shopping, so I thought I’d treat myself to a coffee.”
“How’s Lily?”
“Beautiful as ever, and twice as noisy. She seems to have found her voice all of a sudden.”
“I’m glad I bumped into you. I was going to give you a call to ask you about your shaving routine.”
“Eh?”
“I realise that sounds kind of weird, but I was wondering what you did about the mirror.”
“You mean because I have no reflection?”
“Yeah. I understand that a lot of vampires pay for a mirror-image service?”
“That’s right. I use the bigxies. They’re by far the best.”
“You haven’t by any chance heard of a service called Mimage, have you?”
“Don’t talk to me about those cowboys. I tried them for a while because they undercut the bigxies’ price, but I lived to regret it.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Mimage employ wizards and witches to act as mirror images. And, no offence, but they really aren’t up to the job. The ones they provided me with were next to useless. I ended up cutting my face to ribbons. I put up with it for a couple of weeks, but then went back to the bigxies. Why do you ask, anyway?”
“Bob Bobb, who runs the bigxies service believes that Mimage are trying to sabotage his staff. He’s hired me to find out if that’s true.” I finished the last dregs of coffee. “I’d better get going. Give my love to Pearl and Lily.”
“Will do.”
***
I wanted to check out Washbridge Lakeview Care Home where Annette had worked. From all accounts, she’d been happy there initially, but in recent weeks she’d become more and more stressed. If I could find out what had changed, maybe I’d be a step closer to discovering why she’d decided to disappear.
I’d been in contact with Annette’s flatmate, Gaye. She’d given me the name of the woman that Annette had worked alongside at Lakeview. Apparently, Annette had been very impressed with Rita Markham’s dedication to the job, and in particular how much she’d cared about the residents of the care home.
“Good afternoon.” The woman behind reception at the care home flashed a paper-thin smile. “How can I help you?”
“Would it be possible to speak to Rita Markham?”
“Can I ask who you are?”
“My name is Jill Maxwell.”
“Do you have a relative staying with us?”
“No.”
“What’s your business with Rita, then?”
“I was hoping to talk to her about Annette Banks who used to work here.”
“I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. Only relatives of residents are allowed in the building.”
“Is Rita at work today?”
“I can’t give out that information. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“I’d only need a minute of her time.”
“Please leave or I’ll be forced to call security.” She picked up the phone to show she meant business.
“It’s okay. I’m going.”
I was on my way back to the car when someone shouted, “Wait!” A woman was hurrying across the car park towards me. “I heard you asking about Rita.”
“That’s right. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I work with her sometimes. I’m Sylvia, by the way.”
“Do you know Annette Banks?”
“Not well. I spoke to her a few times, but that’s all. She mainly worked with Rita.”
“They won’t allow me inside.”
“So I heard. It never used to be like this. Everything changed when the new owners took over.” She glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot. “Rita’s in the staffroom on her break. If you go around the back of the building, there’s another door there. She’ll be able to let you in.”
“How will she know I’m there?”
“The staff room is the third window in from this side of the building. If you knock on the window, she’ll see you.”
“I wouldn’t want to get her into trouble.”
“You should be okay. Our breaks are staggered, so she’s the only one in there at the moment.”
“Thanks very much.”
The woman in the staffroom jumped when I knocked on the window.
“Can you open the door?” I mouthed.
Moments later, she came to the back door. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Rita Markham?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Jill Maxwell. I’ve been hired by Annette Banks’ parents to look into their daughter’s disappearance. Her flatmate, Gaye, gave me your name, and said that you worked with Annette.”
“I can’t talk here.” She glanced nervously over her shoulder. “If they see me talking to you, they’ll sack me, and I can’t afford to lose this job.”
“Could we meet somewhere else?”
“I suppose so. Where and when?”
“Wherever and whenever you like, but preferably sooner rather than later.” I handed her a business card. “Call me on my mobile any time.”
“I thought you said your name was Maxwell.”
“I need to get new cards printed. I got married recently.”
Just then, we both heard voices coming from somewhere inside.
“I have to go.” She began to close the door.
“Call me, please.”
“I will.”
Considering Lakeview was supposed to be a care home, it was somewhat disconcerting that everyone who worked there appeared to be terrified to talk about the place. The sooner I got to speak to Rita, the better.
***
Back in Washbridge, who should I bump into in the car park but Kathy. She was rubbing at a tiny smear on the driver’s door of her new car.
“You can clean mine when you’ve done there if you like,” I said.
“I would if I had a month to spare. When was the last time you actually cleaned that rust-bucket of yours?”
“I’m sure it was this year.”
“I’m not. Oh, by the way, I meant to call you yesterday to tell you that Lizzie perked up not long after we got home. One minute she had a face like a wet weekend, and the next, she was as bright as a button.”
“That’s good. Any idea why?”
“Not a clue. Kids, eh?”
“How come you aren’t at the shop?”
“I’ve left May in charge for an hour.”
“I’m Knott sure that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of the childish jokes about people’s names?”
“Not really.”
“Taking her on was a great idea. It gives me time to spend on more important things.”
“Like lazing in bed all morning?”
“If you must know, I’ve just been to see my accountant. We’ve been discussing the possibility of my opening another shop, possibly in West Chipping.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, but there’s nothing definite yet. We’re still running through the numbers. What about you? Are you up to anything interesting today?”
“I’m working on a missing person case, but I haven’t made much progress yet. I’m just headed back to the office. Hopefully, Mrs V will have stopped flashing by the time I get there.”
Kathy stared open-mouthed at me. “Flashing?”
“Not that kind of flashing, thank goodness. She’s planning on having driving lessons, so she’s trying to familiarise herself with the controls. She started with the steering wheel, and has now moved onto the indicators, or ‘flashers’, as she insists on calling them.”
“You had me worried there for a minute.”
When I stepped into the outer office, there wasn’t a flasher to be seen. Instead, Mrs V was behind her desk, knitting. I was just about to ask if she�
��d given up on the driving when I realised that there was a man seated at the far side of the room. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t think why.
“Jill, I told this gentleman I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to see him, but he said he’d wait anyway.”
“Right.” When I looked at him again I realised where I knew him from. He was the manager of Washbridge Park Hotel. “Is everything okay? I paid the final bill last week.”
“It isn’t about your bill. I remembered that you said you were a private investigator, and I may need your services.”
“In that case, you’d better come through to my office. Would you like a drink?”
“I’ve already had one, thanks. Your receptionist made me a cup of tea.”
“Right.”
“She also gave me this scarf.”
“Nice choice of colours.”
“And these socks.”
“You can’t go far wrong with black.”
Winky was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well. I didn’t want my hipster cat to frighten away a potential client.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.” I gestured for him to take a seat.
“Noah Way.”
“No way?” I laughed.
He rolled his eyes.
“I suppose you’ve heard that one before.”
“Only a million times.”
That was a first.
“What can I do for you, Mr Way?”
“Call me Noah, please. We’ve had a series of thefts in the hotel over the last week or so, and I’m hoping that you might be able to find out who’s behind it.”
“Have you talked to the police?”
“I’d rather not. This kind of thing has a habit of getting into the papers, and that would be disastrous for business.”
“I assume the thefts are from the hotel rooms?”
“Actually, no. They’ve all occurred in the bar.”
“And this has only just started happening?”
“Yes. I’ve worked at the hotel for three years, and during that time, I can remember only a couple of isolated incidents. There have been five times that number in the last two weeks.”
“Gosh. What exactly would you like me to do?”
“I was hoping that you could work undercover in the hotel, to see if you can spot what’s going on?”
