Bobbles and Broomsticks

by Nancy Warren

  He downed the rest of his drink and rose. “There wasn’t any mobile service on the hill where we were climbing. Then, when we got to the pub, I didn’t bother calling you back. I could see the messages. I knew you’d only be cross with me, so thought I might as well wait till I got home. Now, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower. Sophie, let the Ashcrofts know I was detained. I’ll be with you soon as I can.”

  She let out a long-suffering sigh. “We’ve probably lost the reservation now.”

  “For Lord and Lady Ashcroft? Don’t be stupid.”

  He went into the other room and shut the door.

  Before I left, I turned back to her. I’d been thinking about stories and addictions, and I thought it was time she got some home truths. “You know, at first I thought you had tried to kill Alice Robinson.”

  Her icy composure slipped. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It was the way you acted at the hen party. And then your intense grief at Alice and Charlie’s wedding. I actually believed that you had tried to kill his wife.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “I didn’t even know you, and yet I believed you’d hurt the woman Charlie loves.” I put a strong emphasis on the word “loves” and watched her flinch. “Sophie, you have to let Charlie go.”

  I thought for a second she might cry. “But we’re meant to be together. I’ve always known it. The fortune-teller said—”

  I shook my head. “No. You have an addiction, too. You’re addicted to the idea that you and Charlie will end up together. But it’s not true, and it’s stopping you from enjoying your life. As we heard tonight, addictions can be dangerous things. It’s time to let go.”

  As I drove away, I had no idea if my words had pierced Sophie’s fantasy world, but I hoped so.

  Nyx and I drove back home. I took the broom out of the car, and as I did, I felt a burst of energy in my palm. Almost as though I’d received an electric shock. I glanced at Nyx, who was watching me with a strange look in her eyes.

  Intuition is a funny thing. People talk about women’s intuition, but witch’s intuition? That’s on a whole different level. Besides, we witches have help from our familiars and the tools of our trade. Apparently, that included this broom.

  I wanted to put the strange tingling in my hand down to fatigue or overexcitement, but Nyx was still staring at me, and the word I felt inside my head was danger. I shook my head. I looked at the car and then the broom.

  You’d think the car would be faster, but in this case, I suspected that I’d make better time and be able to take a more direct route if I went by broom. “Okay, you win. Hop on board.”

  I put the broom down so that the bristles touched the gravel beside where I parked my car and the broom handle pointed up to the moon. It was a crescent moon, but at least it was a clear night.

  Nyx wasted no time walking daintily up the broom and sitting on it as though it were a velvet throne. I didn’t find it nearly as comfortable. To me, it felt like I was sitting on a wooden broom handle.

  Here we were, ready to go, and I had no idea of the direction. I tried to focus on what Nyx or the broom were trying to tell me. I knew who I wanted to save; I just didn’t know where or how. Or even if it was too late.

  I set a course for Moreton-under-Wychwood. Everything had happened there and I felt that that’s where I would find answers.

  We sailed off into the night. People often use the term “as the crow flies” when giving distances. As the broom flies might be more accurate. We flew across country, passing over Oxford, above the colleges and monuments—the round dome of the Radcliffe Observatory, the church spires, the quads of Trinity and Balliol—then out, over the river, past quiet fields, villages, sleeping cottages, and then trees. We passed over the standing stones, and they gazed up like so many pale faces, offering me strength and stability.

  As we flew closer to Moreton, my plan was to go into the pub and ask if anyone had seen Alistair and Giles. With luck they might still be there. Boris hadn’t left them that long ago.

  I felt rather foolish. Everyone had come down from climbing safely. I didn’t understand why I still felt this urgent sense of dread. The one thing I had learned was never to discount my intuition.

  Or that of my cat.

  Besides, I had some questions about shoes.

  The church was coming into view now. I thought about Constance and her memorial. Beloved wife. I believed she slept peacefully. But maybe it was time to pay my respects and ask her advice. Visiting her on a broom seemed fitting.

  I drew closer. The old stones slept silently. The bell tower was like a column of darkness. I could just make out the shape of the church, and then I gasped. I saw movement on the roof. I was certain of it. I steered us closer, and then I realized there were two figures standing on the rooftop. Was I too late?

  There was nowhere to land a broom on the slate tiles, and besides, I didn’t want to startle the two standing there or be seen as what I was, a broom-flying witch. They didn’t seem to be struggling. They were talking.

  Good.

  Swiftly, I took the broom to the ground at the base of the bell tower. I dismounted, whispered to Nyx to wait for me, and crept to the door. My heart was hammering. The door handle was cold against my palm, and I turned it as quietly as I could, easing open the ancient oak door, hoping it wouldn’t creak with age. It didn’t.

  I entered into an even blacker darkness. The stone stairs corkscrewed up inside the tower. I began to climb as quickly and quietly as I could, hanging on to the thick rope that acted as a banister. The stairs seemed endless, and I was running out of breath. I really needed to get back to that exercise program.

  My feet scraped on the stone stairs as I kept climbing. My breath was heaving, and my legs felt heavier with each step.

  Finally, I got to the top and had to take a minute to catch my breath. The bells were tied up, waiting to be rung again. I suspected they’d wait some time.

  From the tower, there was a doorway that led onto the roof. The roof was steeply pitched with nothing but the crenelated edges between it and the ground far below. It was made of slate tiles and they didn’t look very secure. There were patches of moss and I suspected the surface would be slippery.

  The two men were still out there, talking. After casting a quick circle of protection around myself, which I probably botched, as I was so nervous, I climbed out of the stone arch and onto the roof and discovered that it was even more precarious than it looked. My feet slid and I grabbed the top of the tower to hang on.

  I could see clearly now and even hear the conversation between Giles and Alistair. They were standing about twenty feet away from me, and I couldn’t imagine how they’d got that far without sliding off the roof.

  “Please don’t do this,” Alistair was saying. His voice was wavering, and I got the feeling this wasn’t the first time he’d said those words.

  Giles took a step closer to him. “It will be over in a minute. Think how much better you’ll feel to have all your troubles behind you.” He said it in a rousing tone, as though promising his childhood friend a treat.

  “I swear there’s money. Just give me a few more days,” Alistair said, his voice rising.

  Giles shook his head. He seemed so calm. So normal. “I can’t give you any more time.”

  “But I did everything you asked me to. I made my will out to you. If anything happens to me, you get my life insurance.”

  “You made the mistake of thinking I’m stupid. I’m not. I checked your life insurance policy. You cashed it in and gambled the proceeds away, just like you gambled everything away.”

  Alistair licked his lips. Even from here, I could see he was trembling so violently he might fall off the roof any second. “Then what’s the point of killing me? You’re right.” He gave a high, thin laugh. “There’s nothing left.”

  “You’ll inherit your dad’s estate, since he died first.”

  “My dad?” Alistair took a step back and wob
bled. “No. You didn’t. You couldn’t.”

  “Kill your old dad? Of course I did. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. He was as bad a waster as you, but he still had the London house.”

  Alistair shook his head. “No. He mortgaged it to the hilt. How do you think he paid for all those terrible bets on the horses? Where do you think I got the gambling problem from?”

  “I know that. But the bank made sure he had mortgage insurance. When he died, the mortgage was paid in full.” Giles chuckled. It was an awful sound. “I work in banking, remember? He came to me for help. Old family friend. Of course I helped him. Just like I helped you.”

  “But you know I’m good for it. You know I’ll pay you back. Now I’m going to inherit Dad’s house.”

  Giles shook his head. “No. If you got the money, you’d burn through it in no time. I’m going to inherit your dad’s house because you willed everything to me.”

  Alistair put his hands over his face. “You said it was security. In case I had an accident. I thought we were friends.”

  “Then you were a fool.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing personal, mate. I run a lucrative business on the side, lending money to those the bank thinks are bad risks. But when the customers don’t pay back their loans, I have to cut my losses. Otherwise, people would see me as a weakling.”

  “Please. There must be something I can do.”

  A long-suffering sigh. “You can stop wasting my time. Be a man for once. Jump.”

  “No. I won’t. You’ll have to kill me. Like you killed my dad.”

  “Oh, very well.” Giles took a step toward the terrified Alistair.

  “Wait,” I called out. I couldn’t believe I’d spoken aloud. Now they both knew I was there. “You can’t kill him and make it look like suicide. You have a witness. Me.”

  They both peered at me, squinting in the gloom. “Who is that?” Giles asked.

  Alistair said, “I think it’s Lucy Swift.”

  “How did you get up here?” Giles asked.

  “The same way you did. And the police are right behind me.”

  If only that were true. If only I’d had the sense to call them. I’d been in such a rush to save Alistair, I hadn’t considered I was doing a very stupid thing.

  Giles cocked his head. “I don’t hear any sirens. Think you’re lying. Even if you’re not, you’ll both be dead long before they get here. And I’ll be on my way back to London. Let this be a lesson to you, Lucy.”

  He walked forward, and he looked like a tightrope walker. All those years he’d spent climbing had really paid off. He had excellent balance, and the fact that we were thirty or forty feet off the ground on a slippery roof didn’t seem to bother him at all.

  He walked toward Alistair, who began to step backward toward me. And thanks for that. Alistair did not look like someone who was prepared to sacrifice himself to save anyone else. But with ever step back he teetered. He couldn’t move backward as quickly as Giles could move forward. I could see that it wouldn’t be long before Giles had his hands on his childhood friend.

  If there were spells that would prevent Alistair from falling to his death, I didn’t know them. Instead, I went with the age-old standby. I screamed, “Help!” at the top of my lungs.

  The trouble with Moreton-under-Wychwood was that it was a sleepy little village, and everyone seemed to be indoors. I wasn’t sure that my voice had carried very far. I certainly didn’t see any lights go on or villagers come out to investigate. Undeterred, I screamed again.

  “Will you stop that?” Giles said in a furious undertone.

  “No. Anyway, how are you going to explain two dead bodies?”

  He seemed to think about that for a second. “They say the best lies stick close to the truth. Alistair was distraught. His father dead, him in terrible debt for gambling. All hope gone. He went to you to talk about his troubles and, suspecting he planned to do himself an injury, you followed him. He climbed up on this roof to end it all, and you followed. But when you tried to prevent him from taking his own life, he took you with him.” He shook his head. “Almost brings a tear to the eye.” He sent us both a cold smile. “I’ll be sure to send some lovely flowers to both of your funerals. And now, I really must get on.”

  He reached for Alistair.

  I looked around for a weapon but couldn’t see anything handy. There had to be something I could do. I took a tentative step forward, and another one. I put my arms out to try and steady myself, but it was treacherous up here. I slid and wobbled. Maybe I would die tonight, but Giles wasn’t going to get away with murder. At the very least, they’d find my scratches on his face, his DNA under my nails.

  It wasn’t much, but right now it was all I had.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I did a double-take and nearly fell off the roof. A small, furry and very determined face with its ears pushed back stared at me. Nyx. Riding by herself on the broom. She was coming to save me, but I deterred her. “Stop Giles.”

  I wasn’t certain if she even knew who Giles was, but Nyx was a very intelligent cat. It was pretty obvious who was trying to push whom off the roof. I didn’t know what a little cat on a broom could do, but I had great faith in my familiar.

  Still, I took another step forward. If I could hold on to Alistair, at least we could make it more difficult for Giles to throw us off the roof. Giles had his hands around Alistair’s shoulders now. I wondered why he didn’t just punch him and then throw him off the roof, but of course, it wouldn’t look like suicide if Alistair had taken a blow first. Forensics people have amazing ways of figuring that stuff out.

  They were both panting now. Giles said, “Lucy, you’ve even done me a favor. When the police see all these footsteps up here, they’ll imagine it was you struggling with Alistair, trying to prevent his death. Yes, I’m going to send some very nice flowers to your funeral.”

  He was so busy mocking me that he didn’t see the broom coming. Nyx headed straight for his head. The handle whacked him right in the temple. He let out a cry of surprise and began to slide.

  I wanted to catch a killer, not kill him. He slid down and, athlete that he was, managed to grab onto the crenellation, wrapping his arms around the old stone.

  I thought he was enough of a climber that he’d either find his own way down or climb back up and try to kill us again. Either way, I didn’t want to wait to find out. Nyx and the broom were several feet away, and her golden eyes were steady, watching me. I knew I could call her if I needed her, but right now I was more concerned with getting Alistair down to safety.

  So was Alistair. “What a lucky thing that bird came out of nowhere,” he said as we managed to climb back through the arch.

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “I have to get away. If he finds me, he’ll kill me.” He went on ahead of me down the stairs, not even glancing back to see if I was all right.

  “You’re welcome,” I said, as I pulled out my cell phone and called 999.

  Chapter 20

  When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I was in time to see Alistair run to his car in the church parking lot. He was in such a hurry to leave that he spat gravel as he drove away without a backward glance.

  Now that I was on the ground and my life, and Alistair’s life, were no longer in such danger, I was able to think more clearly. I knew a spell, I’d even seen it done, that would put up an invisible barrier. Since I suspected Giles would soon be on his way down the stairs, I wanted to keep him away from me.

  Nyx brought the broom beside me and I felt her power as I recited the spell I had memorized from my Grimoire. And just in the nick of time, too. I heard Giles, his feet running down the stairs, much faster than Alistair or I had dared. It was a shame he was such an awful person and a murderer when he could have been such a fine athlete.

  The trouble with the invisible barrier was that it was, well, invisible, and I wouldn’t know if it had worked until the last second. I could run and hide, but I didn’t feel li
ke it. I wanted to stand my ground and watch Giles get his comeuppance.

  He’d done his very best to kill both Alistair and me tonight, so I didn’t feel too bad when he came racing toward the open door leading from the bell tower out into the churchyard. He saw me looking at him, and a very unpleasant smile came over his face.

  Please work, please work, I chanted silently as he hit the bottom of the stairs and raced toward me. I nearly ran, but I was so glad I restrained myself when I had the pleasure of seeing him bang into my invisible barrier and get thrown back.

  He yelled out with pain as he crashed into the wall. He put his hand to his forehead. “What the…?”

  He came for me again and once more was repulsed. I could watch him do that all night, but by this time, I could hear the sirens approaching. I waited until the police cars were pulling into the parking lot. DS Barnes and DI Chisholm were first out of the car. “He’s in there,” I said, pointing to the bell tower. Then I released the spell, and Giles ran out, pretty much right into their waiting arms.

  He turned to me, glaring. “What did you do?”

  I put on my most innocent expression. “I didn’t do anything. You killed Rupert Grendell-Smythe.” I looked at Ian. “And he tried to kill both Alistair Grendell-Smythe and me this evening, too. Is it okay if I come in tomorrow to give my statement? You’ll want to track down Alistair and get his, too.”

  Ian looked at me with a bemused expression. “How is it, Lucy, that Oxford CID has the manpower, resources, a worldwide network of law enforcement at our fingertips, and you got to the perp before we did?”

  I wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question, but I answered it anyway. “It was the shoes.”

  DS Barnes was reading Giles his rights as he arrested him.

  Ian said, “Shoes?”

  “Yes. At the wedding. I first noticed Rupert Grendell-Smythe’s shoes were brand-new. They still had the price tags on the bottom of them. Maybe that’s what made me start noticing people’s shoes. And then, after the accident, of course, most of our shoes were dusty. Certainly anyone who had been near that falling beam had dust over our shoes. Even walking around the gravel car park with brand-new shoes put a layer of dust on. But Giles’s shoes, when I saw him at the reception, looked freshly polished. It wasn’t until tonight that I realized he got them dusty when he’d been climbing around up there in the rafters, when he caused the accident. At some point, he polished his shoes so we wouldn’t notice the dust, not realizing that everyone’s shoes were dusty and it was his being so clean that made them stand out.”