Witch Is Why The Search Began (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 22)

by Adele Abbott

  “Morning, Jill.”

  “What’s going on? Where did all of these plants come from?”

  “Annabel’s friend, Mr Greenfinger, brought them in.”

  “Is he insane?”

  “Shush!” She put her finger to her lips. “He’s still here.”

  “Where?”

  She pointed towards where the door to my office would normally be. “Good luck.”

  It wasn’t luck, but a machete that I needed. “Hello? Mr Greenfinger?”

  “Over here. Follow my voice.”

  “Please keep talking so I can find you.”

  “Okay. Once upon a time, there were three bears—”

  “Ah, there you are, Mr Greenfinger.”

  “Call me Rod. Everyone does. I assume you must be Jill. Annabel has told me a lot about you.” He laughed. “Don’t worry—I didn’t believe half of it.”

  Huh?

  “Mrs V said that you were going to let her have some plants for the office, but I didn’t realise there would be quite so many. There are an awful lot of them in here.”

  “Do you think she’ll be pleased? I’ve been sweet on Annabel for as long as I can remember. This is my big chance to make a good impression on her.”

  “Did you know she was seeing someone at the moment?”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “That’s why I have to work extra hard to win her over. Do you think this will do the trick?”

  “Maybe.”

  The poor man sounded so desperate that I didn’t have the heart to tell him to take his stupid plants away. I’d just have to put up with the jungle—at least until Mrs V had had the chance to see it in all its glory.

  “Jill Gooder, I presume.” Winky greeted me; he was wearing a safari suit and hat.

  “What have you come as?” I laughed.

  “That jungle next door is expanding fast. I thought I’d better be prepared.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Seriously, though, what’s going on? This is nuts even by your standards.”

  “Don’t blame me. All I did was agree that Mrs V could have a few plants in the office. I hadn’t expected Jungle Rodney to try to turn this place into the Amazonian jungle. How is your throat? It sounds much better.”

  “Good as new, and just in time for the competition tonight.”

  “I take it you’re feeling confident?”

  “It’s a foregone conclusion. The other choirs might as well stay at home.”

  ***

  I had the name and contact details of two of the other women who were in Washbridge Regent’s Hospital with symptoms identical to those of Jasmine Bold.

  Andrea Teller’s next of kin was listed as her mother, Sarah Teller. When I’d called her, she’d readily agreed to see me. She lived not too far from Kathy’s house.

  “Jill? Do come in. My husband wanted to be here, but he has an urgent meeting at work. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

  She led the way into the dining room where there were numerous framed photographs on the walls and on the bookcase.

  “Are these all Andrea?”

  “Yes. She’s an only child. Please, have a seat. Do you know what might have caused this terrible illness?”

  “Not at the moment. Sorry.”

  “You mentioned that there were others who have been struck down with the same thing. Why hasn’t anyone told me that?”

  “I can’t speak for the hospital, but it’s possible that they don’t want to cause mass panic. As I said on the phone, I’ve seen CCTV footage of Andrea and a number of other patients. Based on what I saw, the symptoms looked identical, but I could be wrong. I’m not a medical professional. The reason I wanted to speak to you is to find out how your daughter fell ill. That should give me a feel for if there’s any connection.”

  “There really isn’t that much to tell. One day she was perfectly well, and the next, it was as though she was possessed. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I thought she was going to kill herself. Or me.”

  “And there were no other symptoms before that? She hadn’t been complaining of feeling ill?”

  “Nothing. I wish there was more I could tell you.”

  “That’s okay. In fact, what you’ve described matches the story told by the mother of another patient being held in Regent’s Hospital. She said her daughter had shown no prior signs, and that the illness had struck totally out of the blue. Tell me, is Andrea seeing anyone at the moment?”

  “No.” Sarah hesitated. “At least, I don’t think so. She doesn’t like to talk about her boyfriends with me. She says I’m too critical. I don’t mean to be; I’m just trying to look out for her—that’s all.”

  “Where does Andrea work?”

  “She’s a hairdresser in a salon called Total Cuts; they’re in the city centre.”

  “Had she had any time off work prior to this happening?”

  “No. Andrea loves her job. This is the first time she’s had any time off ill since she started there.”

  We talked for a little while longer, and then Sarah provided me with a list of Andrea’s closest friends. Before I contacted them, I wanted to check in on her place of work. The chances were that Andrea’s fellow employees would see more of her on a day-to-day basis than her mother did. Maybe one of them had noticed a change in her prior to the onset of the illness.

  ***

  The young man behind reception in Total Cuts took one look at my hair, frowned, and said, “Oh dear.”

  Charming!

  And then before I could tell him why I was there, he began with his critique, “Who has been doing your hair? Whoever it is should be shot. Still, you’re in good hands now. Who is your appointment with?”

  “I don’t actually have an appointment.”

  “Not to worry. Seeing as it’s an emergency, I’m sure we’ll be able to slot you in, but you may have a short wait. Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not actually here to get my hair done.”

  “You’re not? Are you sure?”

  “I was hoping to speak to someone about Andrea Teller.”

  “Andy? How is she? We’ve all been frantic about her.”

  “Still very poorly, I’m afraid. Who would be the best person to talk to? Who knew Andy best?”

  “Me probably. We’re besties.”

  “Is there somewhere we could speak in private?”

  “Sure.” He turned towards the main salon. “Ginger! Come and take over the desk, would you? I have to speak to this lady about Andy.”

  Ginger, whose blonde hair revealed tell-tale ginger roots, came over. “How is Andy?”

  “She’s still very poorly, I’m afraid.”

  Once we were in the back office, the young man introduced himself as Carl.

  “Andy and I started here at more or less the same time. She loves her job. I think she’d come here even if they didn’t pay her. Not me. I’m only here for the money.”

  “Had you noticed anything different about Andy before she went off ill? Had she mentioned feeling poorly?”

  “Nothing. She’s never ill. And even when she was a bit under the weather, she’d still turn up for work. I told her she was silly. You wouldn’t catch me coming to work with the flu. I’d be wrapped up in bed with a Beechams Powder and a good book.”

  “Was she at work the day before she fell ill?”

  “Yes. We were talking about our holiday plans.”

  “Was she in a relationship, as far as you know?”

  “Yes.” He pulled a face. “Unfortunately.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Andy is a darling, but she really knows how to pick ’em. I tried to warn her off this latest one, but did she listen to Carl? Of course she didn’t.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. Brutus, probably. He looks like a thug—tattoos and piercings everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against tattoos or piercings, but
there are limits. And that shaved head of his? Please!”

  Tattoos, piercings and a shaved head? He had to be describing Billy Bhoy.

  “How long had Andy been seeing this guy?”

  “I’m not sure. Not long. He popped into the shop to pick her up after work a couple of times. He gives me the creeps.”

  “Thanks. You’ve been very helpful. I’ll leave you my card just in case you think of anything else that might help.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to do something with your hair while you’re here?”

  Cheek!

  ***

  When I got back to the office, someone had at least moved the plants away from the door, so I was able to get inside.

  “Hello?” Mrs V’s voice came from somewhere in the jungle. “Can I help you?”

  “It’s me, Mrs V.”

  “Jill. Sorry, I couldn’t see you.”

  “How can I get to you?”

  “Take the path on the right.”

  There were now two paths in front of me, so I did as instructed, and took the one on the right.

  “I’m really sorry about all of this.” Mrs V looked a little sheepish. “When I asked Rodney if he could let me have a few plants for the office, I never expected anything like this.”

  “He’s trying to impress you. You do realise that he’s sweet on you, don’t you?”

  “I suspected as much, but even so, this is rather extreme.”

  “You’re going to have to tell him to get rid of them.”

  “That would be throwing kindness in his face.”

  “We can’t function like this. What will the clients think when they see it?”

  “What clients?”

  “Mrs V!”

  “Sorry, dear. You’re right, of course. I just don’t want to upset Rodney.”

  “You’ll have to, I’m afraid.”

  “Okay. I’ll give him a call.”

  Just then, my phone rang.

  “Is that Jill?”

  “Speaking.”

  “It’s Karen Coombes. We met the other day in Spooky Wooky.”

  “Oh, yes. Hi, Karen.”

  “I said I’d give you a call when I’d managed to gather a few people together who have been affected by Hauntings Unlimited. I did try to call you yesterday, but I couldn’t get through for some reason. There are quite a few of us gathered in GT Community Hall. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could pop over now, is there? It should only take a few minutes.”

  “Yes, okay. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “I have to nip out again, Mrs V. Please try to get this lot sorted before I get back, would you?”

  “I will, dear.”

  “Jill!” Jules’ voice came from somewhere to my left.

  “Oh? Hi, Jules. I hadn’t realised you were still here.”

  “Did you find out why your grandmother broke our knitting needles?”

  “Not yet,” I lied. “I’ll let you know if I do.”

  I was starving, so on my way to the GT community hall, I popped into Spooky Wooky to pick up a muffin.

  “Anything to drink, Jill?” Larry said.

  “No, thanks. Just the muffin.”

  “Shall I put it in a bag?”

  “No need. I’m going to eat it now. Incidentally, Stewey Dewey called in to see me. He’s looking so much better.”

  “He is, isn’t he? The plans for the new bakery are coming on a treat.”

  “Stewey said I’ll get free muffins for life.”

  “Did he now?” Larry grinned. “There go our profits then.”

  “Got to rush. Catch you later.”

  When Karen Coombes had told me that there were a few people gathered in the community hall, she’d rather undersold it. The place was packed. It took a while for me to fight my way to the front.

  “Excuse me. Non-dead coming through. Excuse me, please. Thank you.”

  “Jill, you made it,” Karen greeted me.

  “I didn’t realise there would be so many people here.”

  “This scam has been going on for a long time. Shall we go onto the stage?”

  I followed her onto the small stage where there were just two seats.

  “Quiet please!” Karen had to yell to be heard. “Jill Gooder has joined us now.”

  “Hi, everyone.”

  After the crowd had eventually fallen silent, Karen continued, “It would probably be best if I give you a quick rundown on what has been happening, Jill.”

  “That would be great.”

  And she did. The gist of it was that ghosts in GT were being recruited by an outfit called Hauntings Unlimited. The company provided ghosts to establishments in the human world who wanted to market themselves as ‘haunted houses’. The majority of their customers were stately homes and the like. As she was talking, it struck me that Washbridge House should have availed themselves of a service such as this one.

  “The company simply isn’t paying us the money that it owes us.” Karen said. “Typically, they’ll pay for the first month, but then the payments stop.” She turned to the audience. “Isn’t that right?”

  There was lots of nodding and shouting in agreement.

  “I was working in a country house in North Wales.” A tall man near the front stepped forward. “I was quite lucky because I actually got paid for three months, but since then I’ve had nothing. Just lots of empty promises.”

  “Same here!” a woman shouted. “I was in Dorset. I’ve been chasing them for weeks, but getting nowhere.”

  The next few minutes were filled with stories that all followed the same pattern.

  “Who runs the company?” I asked.

  “This end of the operation is run by a guy called Kelvin Toastmaster,” Karen said. “I had hoped he’d be here today, but I wasn’t able to get hold of him.”

  “Typical!” someone shouted.

  “To be fair,” Karen said. “I don’t think the fault lies with Kelvin.”

  “They’re all crooks!” an irate young man shouted.

  “You may be right,” Karen conceded. “I don’t know. None of us do.”

  “What about the other end of the operation?” I asked.

  “That’s run by two vampires. I don’t know anything about them. Do you think you’ll be able to help us?”

  “I hope so. Before I leave today, I’d like to speak to a few more of you, to gather as much information as I can about Hauntings Unlimited.”

  “Thanks, Jill. I’m sure everyone will be more than happy to talk to you.”

  Chapter 14

  All of the ghosts in the hall were eager to tell their stories, all of which ran along similar lines. They’d all been paid initially, but after one, two, or for a few of the more fortunate ghosts, three months, the payments had stopped. They were then strung along and fed all manner of excuses for the ‘delayed’ payments. Eventually, the ghosts would tire of working for no pay, and throw in the job.

  At first, I struggled to make sense of what was happening. If Hauntings Unlimited were out and out fraudsters, why pay at all? Why stop after a month or two? But then I realised that this was in fact quite a clever con. Every ghost recruited by the company ended up working several months for free. The company didn’t care if the ghosts eventually got fed up and left because there were plenty of others waiting to take their place. Assuming that the company was being paid for every ghost/month, but only passing on a fraction of that money, they would be able to skim off as much as half of the money received. Given the number of ghosts hired by Hauntings Unlimited, that would add up to a pretty penny, over time.

  Now I knew how the scam worked, the question was: who was taking the money? The obvious suspects were Kelvin Toastmaster, the ghost who ran the GT end of the operation, and the two vampires who handled the human end. Karen Coombes had tried to get Toastmaster to attend the meeting, but she had been unable to get hold of him. She did, however, have his office address, so while I was in GT, I decided to pay him a visit.


  Toastmaster’s office was in a run-down building not far from Spooky Wooky. There were dozens of small businesses based in the same building. As there was no central reception and no directory to show where any of the individual businesses were located, it took me almost fifteen minutes to track down Toastmaster Enterprises, which inevitably was at the end of the last corridor on the top floor of five.

  “Yes?” the woman behind the desk barked. She was chewing gum while simultaneously eating an apple—quite a feat.

  “I’d like to see Kelvin Toastmaster.”

  “Not in.”

  “When will he be in?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Just then, I heard someone in the back room cough.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Who’s what?” She tossed the apple core into the waste bin at the other side of the room. Very impressive.

  “I think Kelvin Toastmaster is through there.” I gestured to the door behind her.

  “I’ve already told you. He isn’t here.”

  “In that case, you won’t mind if I take a look.”

  She was too slow to block my path. By the time she was out of her chair, I was already through the door.

  “Kelvin Toastmaster, I presume?”

  “Lorna?” he yelled. “Why did you let her in?”

  “Sorry, Kelvin. She just barged in.”

  “Thank you, Lorna. You’ve been very helpful.” I shut the door in her face.

  “Who are you?” Toastmaster demanded. He was the first ghost I’d met in GT that actually looked like a ghost. Or at least how I’d always assumed a ghost would look. He was incredibly pale—bordering on albino.

  “I’m Jill Gooder.”

  “You’re that witch. I’ve heard about you. What do you want with me?”

  “Just a chat.”

  “What about? I’m a busy man.”

  “So I see.” I glanced at the paperback novel that was open on his desk. “I want to talk to you about how Hauntings Unlimited are ripping off hundreds of people.”