Witch Is Why The Owl Returned (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 21)

by Adele Abbott

  “What did he do?”

  “He hated me from the first time he met me. I was just an obstacle between him and Mum. He wanted me gone; he told me as much.”

  “What did he do? Was he violent towards you?”

  “Sometimes, but it was mainly psychological rather than physical abuse. Whenever we were alone, he would tell me how useless I was. How I’d never amount to anything, and how no one would ever want me. Sometimes, he’d lash out and hit me, but he was careful never to leave any bruises.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your mum?”

  “I did. She didn’t believe me. All she could see was her perfect new husband. She accused me of making it up just to get rid of him.”

  “Is that why you decided to disappear?”

  “It wasn’t only that.”

  “What then?”

  “I saw him with another woman in a bar—they were kissing.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told him that I’d seen him, and threatened to tell Mum. He told me if I said anything he’d kill me. The way he said it, I believed him. That’s when I started planning my escape.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your mother that you were leaving?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to punish her because she’d let me down.”

  “Do you know who the woman with your stepfather was?”

  “I don’t know her name, but I followed her. She worked at a garage.”

  “Do you happen to remember the name of that garage?”

  Angie shook her head.

  “Could it have been Meers Motors?”

  “That was it. My stepfather sold tools for a living; he probably chatted her up when he was visiting the garage on business.”

  I took out my phone, and did a quick Google search to find the image I needed.

  “Was this the woman who was with your father that day?”

  “I think so. It looks like her. How did you know?”

  “This is Patty Lake. She was murdered a few months after you disappeared.”

  Angie continued to stare at the photo, and didn’t speak for several minutes.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  “She was murdered?”

  “You must have known?”

  “I had no idea. After I left, I never looked back. I had no reason to keep up with the news in Washbridge.”

  “Surely, Michelle mentioned it at the time?”

  “Back then, Michelle didn’t know I’d deliberately disappeared any more than the others did. I bumped into her in Liverpool about six years ago; she thought she’d seen a ghost. I made her promise never to tell anyone that she’d seen me, and she’s kept her word. We’ve stayed in touch ever since then. Did they get anyone for the murder?”

  “They convicted a man named Conrad Landers. He’s been in prison for almost twenty years, and has always proclaimed his innocence. You and I now know that he’s probably telling the truth.”

  “You think my stepfather murdered her?”

  “It’s possible—probable even. And I want you to help me to prove it.”

  I’d just arrived back home from Chester when my phone rang; it was Aunt Lucy.

  “Jill! It’s terrible.” She sounded distraught.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The new neighbour.”

  “Glen? What’s he done?”

  “Not Glen. It’s his partner. I’ve just seen her. It’s Alicia.”

  “What?”

  “She came over and introduced herself—all nice as pie.”

  “She’s got some front, that one.”

  “She apologised for her behaviour in the past, and said it’s all behind her now. She reckons that since she met Glen, she’s distanced herself from Ma Chivers.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “I do. A leopard never changes its spots. We’ll have to keep an eye on her. Will you be okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. It was just such a shock.”

  “Okay, well you know where I am if you need me.”

  Alicia, a changed woman? I’d believe that when I saw it. No, come to think of it, I wouldn’t even believe it then.

  Chapter 24

  The next morning, I didn’t bother going into the office. Instead, after parking my car in Washbridge city centre, I magicked myself over to the airship departure point in Candlefield.

  The man behind the turnstile checked my ticket, stamped it, and handed it back to me. The waiting room was deserted, which was hardly surprising given that it was a school holiday at CASS. On my previous visit, I’d been accompanied by the caretaker, Reggie, but it looked as though I’d be travelling alone this time.

  I didn’t have long to wait until the airship arrived, and on this trip, I was able to relax and take in all of the scenery. Just as on my previous visit, we landed on the playing fields where Desdemona Nightowl was waiting to greet me.

  “Jill. Good to see you again.”

  “It’s good to be back.”

  “I’m glad I was able to greet you in person this time. Hopefully, this visit won’t be marred by any unwanted intruders.”

  “Fingers crossed.”

  During my previous visit, the walls had been breached by a pouchfeeder who had grabbed one of the pupils. It was while helping to rescue the young boy that I’d discovered the secret passage in which the portrait had later been found.

  “I know that you’re particularly keen to find out more about the history of CASS,” Ms Nightowl said.

  “That’s right. I’m also hoping to find out more about the portrait that you gave me.”

  “I’ve arranged for you to spend some time with Doreen Littletoes. She teaches history here at CASS, but she also has a personal interest in the history of the school, the building, and the Wrongacre family. If anyone can help you, Doreen can.”

  I was quite relieved when Ms Nightowl led the way back to the main building on foot; I hadn’t been looking forward to another hair-raising trip aboard the mini hovercraft. We entered the building via the front entrance. It was the first time I’d seen that part of the school; it was truly breathtaking. The huge wooden double-doors opened onto an enormous reception hall. A double staircase wound up to the balconied floor above.

  “This is amazing.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see any of this on your last visit. This part of the building is almost exactly the same as it was when the Wrongacre family lived here.”

  “It must cost a small fortune to maintain.”

  “It most certainly does.”

  The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs caught our attention.

  “Ah, here’s Doreen now.”

  Littletoes by name, but not by nature. Doreen was a diminutive woman, bent almost double with age. Everything about her was small and fragile. Everything that is apart from her feet, which were enormous. The sound of her boots on the wooden stairs echoed all around the large hall.

  “Doreen, may I introduce Jill Gooder?”

  “I’m so very pleased to meet you, Ms Gidder.”

  “Gooder.” Ms Nightowl corrected her.

  “Sorry. I had been hoping to meet you on your last visit, Ms Gidder, but then the awful pouchfeeder put paid to that.”

  “Very nice to meet you, too, Miss Littletoes.”

  “Please call me Doreen.”

  “And you must call me Jill.”

  “Lill it is.”

  “Can I leave Jill with you, Doreen?” Ms Nightowl said.

  “Of course, headmistress.”

  “Right, I’ll catch up with you later, Jill.” Ms Nightowl disappeared down one of the many corridors which led off the main hall.

  “I thought we could work out of my office, Lill.”

  “Err—it’s Jill, actually. Yes, that would be great.”

  “This way then, Lill.”

  Doreen clomped her way back up the staircase, with me in tow.

  “My offic
e is in the East Wing. I hope you don’t mind the walk. I don’t like those horrible hover thingies. They give me a migraine.”

  “No problem. It will give me a chance to see more of the school.”

  And there was a lot to see. Beautiful works of art: paintings, sculptures, and tapestries lined all of the corridors.

  “Isn’t it dangerous to have these pieces on display? With so many children rushing back and forth, surely things must get damaged?”

  “The children aren’t allowed in this part of the building unless they are accompanied by a member of staff. There are many different ways to navigate the school. The children have their own staircases and corridors. Those are kept free of anything which might be damaged. This whole building is something of a maze. I’ve worked here for longer than I care to remember, and I still get lost from time to time.”

  We’d been walking for at least ten minutes when I noticed a tapestry that looked familiar. I’d seen an identical one a couple of minutes earlier. I wasn’t sure whether there were two of them, or if we’d simply been walking around in circles. I was trying to think of a polite way to ask if we were lost when Doreen came to a halt in front of a door.

  “Here we are. I hope you’ll excuse the mess, Lill. I haven’t had the chance to tidy up today.”

  “No problem.” I followed her inside.

  The room probably did have walls, but they weren’t visible because of the huge piles of books which hemmed us in on all sides. The room was illuminated by a small chandelier. If there was a window in there, that too was hidden behind the books.

  “Do join me.” Doreen sat on the green chaise longue which was the only surface not covered by books. “Ms Nightowl said that you’re interested in the history of CASS. I could probably talk non-stop about that for a week. Was there anything in particular you’d like me to cover?”

  “Primarily, I’m hoping to find out more about the woman who appears in the portrait that Ms Nightowl gave to me. It was found in a secret passageway here at CASS.” I took out my phone, and brought up the photo I’d taken of the portrait.

  Doreen put on the glasses that were hanging from a chain around her neck. “Oh yes, Ms Nightowl showed this to me.”

  “There’s a similar portrait in this locket.” I took it from around my neck, opened it, and held it out for her to see. “I think it’s the same woman.”

  Doreen glanced back and forth between the photo and the locket. “I think you’re right.”

  “I believe she may have some connection to this building. Do you have any idea who she might be?”

  Doreen didn’t respond; she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

  “Doreen?”

  “The woman? No, I don’t know who she is.” She pointed to the locket. “But, I may know who the man is.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “I could be wrong. I probably am.”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  “This picture fits the description of Damon Wrongacre; the only son of Charles Wrongacre.”

  Some time ago, in Candlefield, I’d tried to research CASS and the Wrongacre family. I’d had limited success, and what little information I’d uncovered had been courtesy of a woman named Margaret Smallside. She’d mentioned Wrongacre’s son, Damon.

  “What makes you think this is Wrongacre’s son? I understood that there were no portraits of him?”

  “That’s right. Charles had them all removed after his son’s death, and no one has ever been able to find them since. I could very well be wrong, but I have seen a number of references to the son, and one thing that is always mentioned is his red hair and beard.”

  “Do you know much about him?”

  “Practically nothing, other than that he died shortly before he was due to marry.”

  “Marry who?”

  “No one knows.”

  “It must have been the woman in the portrait. Why else would both of their pictures be in the locket?”

  “That would make sense.”

  “There are initials on the locket.” I turned it over so Doreen could see them.

  “JB?”

  “Does that mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “Could those be the woman’s initials?”

  “I suppose that’s possible, but that brings us back to square one. Who is the woman?”

  Although we made no more progress on identifying the woman, I did find the time I spent with Doreen to be fascinating. Her knowledge of the building and CASS was exceptional. She could name every headmaster and headmistress who had ever led the school. She knew the story behind all of the house names. She’d even created a map that showed all the known secret passageways—I noted that ‘mine’ had recently been added.

  The time flew by, and I was quite shocked to realise I’d been there for almost two hours.

  “Do you think I might take a look around the building?” I said.

  “Of course. The headmistress said that you were allowed to go wherever you wish. We’re due to join her for lunch in an hour, so maybe we could look around until then?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’m sorry, Lill, but my bladder isn’t what it used to be. Would you mind waiting here while I go to the loo?”

  “Of course not.”

  As I waited outside Doreen’s office, I suddenly developed goose bumps on my arms. The temperature seemed to have dropped by several degrees, just as it did when I was visited by a ghost. But I could now see ghosts at will, and there were none around. And yet, I sensed some kind of presence. It was as though some inner sense was drawing me along the corridor. A similar thing had happened on my previous visit when I’d known instinctively where to find the hidden passageway.

  I came upon a set of narrow stairs, and without hesitation, I hurried up them. They led to a much narrower corridor. Here, the walls were bare and in need of redecoration; the floor was bare wood. At the end of the short corridor was a door. Something told me that I had to get inside that room.

  I tried the rusted handle, but the door wouldn’t budge.

  “Lill!” Doreen appeared at the top of the stairs; she was red in the face, and out of breath. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Sorry, Doreen. I should have waited for you.”

  “What are you doing up here?”

  “I don’t know. I was just wandering around and saw the stairs.”

  “There’s nothing to see up here. This section of the building is no longer used.”

  “Do you know what’s in this room?”

  “Nothing, I would imagine.”

  “Is it possible to look inside?”

  “Have you tried the door?”

  “Yes, it’s locked.”

  “I can try to find a key, if you really want to see inside?”

  “Yes, please.”

  To my amazement, Doreen produced a small walkie-talkie from her bag. “Reggie? Come in. Are you there? Over.”

  “This is Reggie. Over.” The familiar voice crackled through the speaker.

  “Reggie. I’m with Lill Gidder. Over.”

  “Who? Over.”

  “Lill Gidder. Over.”

  “Oh, you mean Jill Gooder. Over.”

  “That’s right. We’re in the East Wing, in the upper corridor, on the floor above my office. Do you know where I mean? Over.”

  “I think so, but there’s nothing up there, is there? Over.”

  “Lill would like to look in the room at the end of the corridor, but it’s locked. Do you have a key? Over.”

  “I’m sure I do, somewhere. I’ll be with you in a few minutes. Over.”

  “Okay. Over and out.”

  Less than five minutes later, Reggie came up the stairs.

  “Hello again.” He flashed me a smile. “How was your journey?”

  “Quiet. I was the only passenger on the airship.”

  “It’s ages since I was up here. Is there any particular reason why you want to see inside this room?”

  �
�I just have a sense that there’s something in there that I need to see. I can’t explain it. It’s the same feeling I had when I found the secret passageway the last time I was here.”

  “Okay. Let’s take a look. It should be one of these keys.” He held out a huge key ring which held at least fifty keys. “Not that one. No. No. Not that one.” He slowly worked his way through the keys. “That’s it! That’s the one!”

  The key turned in the lock, and he pushed the door open. Doreen and I followed him inside.

  The walls were bare, and there wasn’t a single stick of furniture in the room. And yet, I still had the sense that I needed to be in there.

  “Miss Gooder!” Desdemona Nightowl’s voice echoed in the corridor. Moments later, she came through the door. “I have just received an urgent communication from Candlefield. You’re needed back there immediately.”

  “Who is the communication from?”

  “Your grandmother and the Combined Sup Council. They say it is a matter of life and death.”

  “Can I contact them?”

  “I’m afraid not. There’s no way to communicate directly with Candlefield from here. That’s why your grandmother used the HurryBird to deliver the message.”

  If the message had come solely from Grandma, I might have ignored it. Her idea of life and death could easily have been something as trivial as her running out of bunion cream. But the fact that it had also been signed by the Combined Sup Council suggested that something serious had happened.

  “How quickly can I get the airship back to Candlefield?”

  “It’s already waiting for you.”

  Chapter 25

  When we were still some distance from Candlefield, the rain started to pound against the windows of the airship; the noise was deafening.

  I was really nervous when we began our descent because visibility was terrible. Thankfully, the pilot knew his stuff, and we managed to land without incident. As soon as I stepped off the airship, I was greeted by Grandma, several of the Combined Sup Council, and a number of other level six witches.

  “You took your time.” Grandma stepped forward.

  “I came as soon as I got your message. What’s wrong?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She pointed at the window.

  “I can’t see anything because of the rain.”