All Was Revealed (10 page)

Chapter 10

George Pullman, the photographer, might have been a sleaze bag, but if what he’d said about Starr Fish getting him sacked was true, he obviously had reason not to be her biggest fan. If nothing else, talking to him had made me aware of her autobiography. After I’d spoken to him, I bought a copy. By flicking through it, I soon managed to compile a short list of people who might harbour a grudge against her.

The first person I wanted to speak to was Starr’s ex-boyfriend, a guy called Johnny Badger. Johnny lived locally in Washbridge; in fact, not too far from my own flat.

His hair was black with two white streaks running from front to back. Badger? Really?

“Mr Badger?”

“Are you the press?”

“No. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator.”

“Is this about Carol?”

The question threw me for a moment, but then I remembered that Starr Fish hadn’t been born with that name. She used to be called Carol Smith, which I had to concede wasn’t really a TV celebrity’s name.

“Yes, Mr Badger, it’s about Carol. Could I come in for a few moments, please?”

“Call me, Johnny. Yeah, come in. I’m afraid the place is a mess.”

That was the understatement of the year. Dirty clothes had been dropped all over the floor and chairs. The sink was stacked high with dirty dishes. And, the place had obviously never seen a vacuum cleaner or a duster.

“Would you like a drink?”

At least the man had manners.

“No, thanks, I’m okay.” I was actually parched, but I didn’t want to risk a drink out of any of those cups. “How long had you and Carol been together before you broke up?”

“We didn’t break up. She dumped me. We’d been together since high school; we were pretty much inseparable. I thought that we’d eventually get married. We’d even talked about it.”

“Did you actually live together?”

“Yeah. She lived here with me for a couple of years. Then she saw that stupid advert in the paper.”

“For the reality TV show?”

“Yeah. Life at the Top. We both decided to apply, just for a laugh. We didn’t think we had a chance of getting on it because there’d be thousands applying. We both sent in an audition video. I shot Carol’s, and she shot mine. Anyway, a bit later, I got an email saying ‘Thanks, but no thanks’, but Carol was asked to go in for an audition. Even then, we didn’t think anything would come of it because there were still hundreds of people after only a few places on the show. But she got through the first round, and then the second round. By then, she was starting to get really excited. She kept talking about how it could make her a star. I humoured her, and hoped she wouldn’t be too upset when they eventually turned her down. I even went with her for the final round of auditions. When they called her to say she was on the show, she was over the moon.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“I made out that I was pleased, but really I was gutted, because I was worried it would change things between us. And it did. It changed everything, especially Carol.”

“Is that when she changed her name?”

“Yes. It was a stupid idea. She said she couldn’t go on the show with a name like Carol Smith—that no one would remember her. She didn’t know what to change it to at first, but then one day, she told me she’d changed it to Starr Fish. I laughed because I thought it was a joke. She wasn’t amused. After that, if I forgot, and called her Carol, she’d go mad at me.”

“What happened when the show aired on TV?”

“Did you see it?”

“No, I don’t watch much TV.”

“It was extremely popular, and of course Carol stole the show. She went in there determined to do whatever it took to make sure she got noticed and voted for. She didn’t seem to care what effect it might have on me.”

“How do you mean?”

“She was flirting, and
more
, with all the guys on the show.”

“And
more
?”

“Yes, if the tabloids are to be believed. She was on the front page of the papers every day with her antics. And, of course, she went on and won the whole thing.”

“What happened between you two afterwards?”

“I was there on the night she won. When she came offstage, she gave me a hug, and I thought perhaps things between us could still be the same. I was just kidding myself. The press followed us around. Everyone wanted Starr; nobody cared who I was. After a while, I began to feel like I was an embarrassment to her, so I backed off and let her get on with it. I thought that maybe, after everything had calmed down, we’d get back together again. But she stopped calling, and she wouldn’t take my calls.”

“Did you talk about it with her? Decide to call it a day?”

“No. It just sort of ended.”

“So, when was the last time you saw Carol?”

“Not for several weeks.”

“Okay, Johnny. Thank you very much for your time.”

I came away with the picture of a very sad young man. He’d obviously thought he’d found his life partner, but had lost her to ‘celebrity’.

***

The lady at FairyAid had given me the address of Billy Somemates, the goblin, who put together the houses for the starlight fairies. His workshop was in a small building close to Candlefield Park. And when I say
small
, I really do mean
small
. It was half the height of the surrounding buildings, and appeared to provide workshops specifically for the goblin community. I called at reception, where I was forced to crouch, otherwise I would have banged my head on the ceiling.

“Hello there,” the female goblin behind the counter greeted me. “Are you okay? You look a bit uncomfortable.”

“The ceiling is a little low for me.”

“I’m sorry about that. When they constructed this building, they worked on the assumption that only goblins would use it. But, although the units are rented exclusively to goblins, there are lots of non-goblin customers. A stupid oversight, really. Who is it that you’re here to see?”

“Billy Somemates?”

“Billy is in unit twenty-seven.” She pointed at the corridor to her right.

By the time I reached Billy’s unit, I had a crick in my neck.

“Are you okay?” The goblin looked up at me.

“I’m fine thanks. Are you Billy Somemates?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Jill Gooder. I’ve just been with the people at FairyAid. I understand you build houses for the starlight fairies.”

“I don’t actually build them, but I do fit them out. The outside structure is bought ready-made; I just fit the interiors.”

“That’s pretty much what they told me. Could I come in and talk to you for a moment?”

“Of course, but do mind your head.”

Once inside, I decided it was easier just to sit on the floor. At least that way, I could straighten my neck again. “Do I call you Mr Somemates?”

“No. Call me Billy, please.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Billy, can you talk me through the process of putting together the houses?”

“Certainly. As I said, the exterior is bought ready-made with the windows and doors drawn onto the shell of the house. I turn them into fully functional windows and doors. I put in a floor to make it a two-level building, and then I put in dividers to create the individual rooms. Finally, I fit out the rooms with all the usual furnishings.”

“That must be a very complicated procedure. They’re so small.”

“It is. Look, why don’t I show you—it’ll be easier. Come over here to my workbench.”

I made my way over on all fours. There, on the workbench, were lots of little houses.

“I use this for the detailed work.” He picked up one of the houses, and put it under an enormous magnifying glass. The tools he was using were similar to those I’d seen used to repair watches.

“So you see, Jill, I use these materials to create the building’s interior. This one is partially done. I’ve opened up the windows and the door, and installed the floor. This one here is on the next stage—I’ve just put in the dividers to create the separate rooms. This one over here is ready to go out.”

“Do you do all of this by yourself?”

“Yes, it’s just me. It’s a very skilled job as you might imagine. So far, I haven’t been able to train anyone to help me. I wish I could find someone because the fairies are really desperate for these houses.”

“It must help that you get the exterior shell ready-made.”

“It most certainly does.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but aren’t those exteriors actually thimbles?”

“Yes, they are. All I have to do to the shell is to convert the doors and windows.”

“Where do you buy the thimbles from?”

“There’s only one place in Candlefield that has the right kind. That’s The Finger. It’s in the marketplace.”

“How much do they cost you?”

“I can’t remember offhand, but I think they’re about three or four pounds each.”

“Do you buy them in bulk?”

“No, usually just three or four at a time.”

“I see. And do you personally go to The Finger to buy them?”

“No. I’m too busy putting together the houses. My assistant, Harlan, buys them for me.”

“Is Harlan a goblin too?”

“No. Harlan is an elf.”

“Is he here at the moment?”

“No, he only works part-time. He does bits and bobs around the place, and keeps things tidy. And, I let him buy the thimbles. It saves me wasting time going over there.”

“Thank you very much for your time, Billy. It’s been really helpful.”

“Not at all. It’s nice to have a visitor.”

I crawled on hands and knees all the way out of the building.

Things were slowly starting to click into place. It was obvious that I needed to speak to Harlan.

***

While I was in Candlefield, I decided to pop into Cuppy C. After all of that crawling around on hands and knees, I needed a sit-down with a nice latte and a strawberry cupcake. Amber came to join me at the window table.

“I’m glad of a sit-down.” I took a bite of cupcake. “I’ve been crawling around on my hands and knees for the last half-hour.”

“Why? What have you been up to?”

Just then, Pearl joined us.

“I went to see the goblin who makes the houses for the starlight fairies.”

“Mum told us about the housing shortage,” Amber said. “It’s terrible.”

“Those little houses are so cute,” Pearl said.

It was only then that I spotted the chairs stacked in the corner of the room. “What happened there?”

“The fire eater got a little carried away. They’re scorched. It’s a good thing no one was sitting at that particular table.”

“Fire eater? Have you started hiring circus performers too?”

“No. Miles said we could share his.”

“He did what?”

“He said they didn’t need them all day, so we could have them after they’d finished at Best Cakes.”

“How much is he going to charge you?”

“Nothing. He said he had to pay for them anyway, and thought it would be a nice gesture to make up for the rat incident.”

“What’s the catch?”

“That’s what we’re trying to work out. There has to be one.”

I thought back to the last time I’d seen Miles. He’d been so desperate because of the situation with the Never-ending Wool, he’d promised that if I talked Grandma around, he’d close down Best P.I. Services, and would stop the dirty tricks against Cuppy C and Ever A Wool Moment. I knew that Grandma had reversed the spell. Maybe Miles had turned over a new leaf. Or had he?

“How did the fire eater manage to scorch the chairs?”

“It was Pearl’s fault.” Amber got in quickly.

“No, it wasn’t!” Pearl objected.

“You were the one who’d taken Barry for a walk.”

“How was I supposed to know the fire-eater was allergic to dog hair? I only walked past him.”

“Just as he was putting the fire in his mouth. You made him sneeze.”

“Maybe you should have stuck with the origami?” I suggested. “By the way, how’s it going with the guys? Have they forgiven you yet?”

“Yes, but
we
haven’t forgiven
you
.”

“Moi?” I put on my innocent face.

“Yes, you.” Pearl grinned. “
The girls would love to go to all the BoundBall practices.
”

“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that.”

“Luckily for you, the guys decided they’d rather we weren’t there. According to them, we moaned too much.”

“Cheek!” Amber said. “We never moan.”

Chapter 11

I’d decided to finish early, and was on my way back to the flat when I got a phone call from Kathy. She sounded rather stressed.

“Jill, your grandmother has gone AWOL, and left me all by myself in the shop. I’m meant to be picking the kids up from school. Are you busy at the moment? Could you go and pick them up for me? Otherwise I’m going to have to close the shop.”

I could have lied and pretended I was busy, but even I’m not that despicable. Well, not all the time, anyway.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll make my way over there now. Do you know where Grandma has gone?”

“No. She never said a word. I thought she was in the back office, but when I went to tell her I was leaving, there was no sign of her. I’ve searched the shop and tea room, but she’s nowhere to be seen. If you could pick up the kids, that would be great. Thanks.”

I parked a couple of streets away from the school, and walked from there. There was a crossing patrol in front of the school gates, and as I got closer, I recognised the person wearing the white uniform, holding the yellow ‘lollipop’.

“Daze?”

“Hi, Jill. What are you doing here?”

“I’m collecting my sister’s kids. Grandma’s done a disappearing act, so Kathy’s having to look after the wool shop. More to the point, what are
you
doing here?”

“Undercover, as usual. We’ve had reports of a wicked witch turning kids into gingerbread men.”

“Really? That’s horrible.”

“I know—we’ve issued a red alert.”

“That sound serious.”

“It’s the highest state of alert. Blaze is over at the next school, and we’ve drafted in six more RRs to cover the other schools in this area. If she shows her ugly face, we’ll can her sorry backside.”

“That’s reassuring. I’ll go and collect the little darlings. Catch you later, Daze.”

“Auntie Jill! Auntie Jill!” Lizzie threw her arms around me.

“Where’s Mum?” Mikey shouted.

“She’s had to work late in the shop, so I said I’d collect you.”

“Can we go to the sweet shop, please, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie said.

I was wise to their tricks. They’d landed me in trouble before for buying them sweets. I wasn’t about to be fooled again.

“Sorry, no. Mummy said I had to take you straight home today.”

“Aw, Auntie Jill. Please.” Lizzie pouted.

“No, I’m sorry. You got me in trouble last time. We’ve got to go straight home.”

They were in full-on sulk mode when they climbed into the back seat of the car, but I ignored them, and drove straight to Kathy’s.

“You haven’t seen our slide, have you, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie seemed to have forgiven me by the time we reached their house.

“What slide? I didn’t know you had one.”

“Daddy bought us a slide and a swing. They’re in the back garden. Would you like to see them?”

“Sure. After you’ve got changed.”

On my way into the house, I noticed that the next door neighbours still had the chickens. I made the kids get changed first. I would have been in trouble if they’d got mud on their school clothes.

“Come on, Auntie Jill. Come on the slide.” Lizzie dragged me around the back of the house.

Peter had put up a small slide and a swing in the back garden where the compost heap used to be.

“Would you like to go on the slide, Auntie Jill?”

“I don’t think so. I’m a bit too big.”

Mikey appeared. And so did his drum!

“I wouldn’t play the drum out here. You’ll scare the chickens.”

“It doesn’t scare them, Auntie Jill. They like to dance to it. Look!” He walked over to the fence, and began hammering away on the drum. The chickens started to run around in circles; no doubt trying to escape the awful noise.

“I’m not sure they’re dancing, Mikey.”

“They are! Look at that one. It’s twirling around.”

“Why don’t I hold your drum while you go on the swing?”

“I don’t like the swing. It’s boring. I want to go on the slide.”

The two of them took turns on the slide while I sat on the bench that was underneath the back window. I was almost asleep when a frantic voice made me stir.

I stood up, and went to see who was shouting, and where the fire was.

“Hello, can I help?”

“Is Kathy in?”

“No, I’m sorry. She’s had to work late. I’m Jill, her sister.”

“Oh dear.” The woman looked distraught.

“Is there something I can help with?”

“I don’t know what to do. My kids go to the same school as Mikey and Lizzie. They should have been home twenty minutes ago, but there’s no sign of them. I’ve checked at the school, but they’re not there. I’m worried something has happened to them.”

“Have you contacted the police?”

“No. I suppose I should.”

“Would you like to borrow my phone?”

It was too late. She’d already rushed across the road.

Daze’s words echoed around my head: wicked witch, gingerbread men.

I gave her a ring. “Daze, it’s Jill. Are you still on the school crossing patrol?”

“No, I’ve just finished.”

“Okay. This may be nothing, but I’ve just had one of Kathy’s friends come over here. Her two kids are usually home by now, but they haven’t turned up. I just wondered—”

“The wicked witch?”

“Do you think it could be her?”

“It’s possible. We’ve had a sighting of her halfway between this school and the one that Blaze is working at. If those kids walked home that way, then maybe.”

“That doesn’t sound good. If they’ve been turned into gingerbread, their poor mother will be devastated.”

“It’s okay, Blaze is tracking her as we speak. I’ll catch up with him, and see if the kids are with her.”

“Will you keep me posted?”

“Of course. I’ll give you a call as soon as I have any news.”

“Okay, thanks Daze.”

Ten minutes later, Kathy’s car pulled into the driveway.

“Are the kids all right?” She came rushing into the house.

“Of course they are.”

“Where are they?”

“Around the back. They’re playing on the slide.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look, there they are.”

She saw the kids and sighed with relief. “I was so worried.”

“I know you think I’m hopeless at everything, but I can look after two kids for thirty minutes.”

“It wasn’t that. It’s just that Sheila called me at work. Her two kids have gone missing.”

“It must have been Sheila who came around here earlier. She was looking for you. Have they found them yet?”

“I don’t think so. When she told me, I tried to call you, but you were engaged.”

That must have been when I was talking to Daze.

“Sorry, Kathy. I didn’t realise you’d called.”

“I shut up shop, and came straight over. Your grandmother will just have to deal with it. It’s not my fault if she goes AWOL.”

I followed Kathy out to the garden where she gave Mikey and Lizzie a big hug.

“Poor Sheila,” she said to me. “She must be distraught.”

My phone rang. “Just a second, Kathy. I need to take this.”

I went back into the house, so Kathy wouldn’t overhear.

“Daze? What’s happening?”

“Everything’s okay, Jill. The wicked witch had the kids with her, but we got to her in time. She’s locked up in Candlefield.”

“What about the kids?”

“They’re fine. We cast the ‘forget’ spell, and sent them on their way. They should be home any minute now.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Daze.”

I went back outside. “The kids are okay, Kathy.”

“How do you know?”

Whoops! That was a good question.

“I read it on my news app.”

Kathy took out her phone. “There’s nothing on mine about it.”

“Let’s go and check with your friend.”

Kathy grabbed the kids, and we all started down the street.

“That’s them!” Kathy pointed. “That’s Sheila’s kids!”

At that moment, Sheila came rushing out of her house, and hurried over to her kids.

“Thank goodness,” Kathy said. “They’re back safe.”

“Yeah, thank goodness.”

“I still don’t understand how you knew, Jill.”

“My app must be more up to date than yours.”

***

The next morning, I headed back to Middle Tweaking. Myrtle had set up two more interviews: The first with Justin Flower, who was the baker in the village, and the other with Harry Payne, the butcher. As before, I met up with her at the old watermill.

“Jill, I know I told you nine o’clock, but I’ve just had a call from Justin Flower. He said he needs to put it back fifteen minutes. We may as well have a cup of tea while we’re waiting.”

“Okay, that would be great.”

“Custard creams?”

“Absolutely. Thanks.”

The more I got to know Myrtle, the more I liked the old girl. When she’d first walked into my office, I’d made the mistake of stereotyping her. I’d thought she was just an old biddy who probably spent all of her time knitting and baking. In fact, nothing could have been further from the truth. Myrtle was so switched on, it wasn’t true. It took me all my time just to keep up with her. She had all the latest gadgets: tablet, smartphone, you name it, she’d got it. She knew her way around the internet far better than I did. Myrtle struck me as a tough old bird. She was certainly nobody’s fool.

“Tell me, Myrtle. How did you end up living here in Middle Tweaking?”

“I was born here.”

“Have you lived all your life here?”

“No. I moved away for many years after university.”

“Doing what? What was your job?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I bet it was exciting. Did you come back to Middle Tweaking after you’d retired?”

“Retired?” She recoiled. “I don’t like that word. There are some people who believe you have a sell-by date. It doesn’t seem to matter to them how capable or physically fit you are. You reach a certain number, and that’s it—you’re done. Goodbye. Here’s your pension.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“More or less, but I’m not ready for retirement. I doubt I ever will be. I like to keep active. That’s one of the reasons I get involved with these investigations.” She glanced at her watch. “Come on. It’s time to pay a visit to Justin.”

Either Justin Flower was wearing three-week old socks, or something had curled up and died in his front room. I kept glancing at Myrtle to see if she’d noticed, but she didn’t seem to. Maybe she had trouble with her sinuses.

“Who’s this?” He glared at me.

“I did tell you, Justin,” Myrtle said, as cool, calm and collected as always. “This is Jill Gooder. She was at the final murder mystery evening, and is helping with my investigation.”

“I don’t see why you need to investigate at all, Myrtle. You’re not the police.”

“Is there some reason you don’t want to talk to me, Justin?” Her eyes burned into him. “Do you have something to hide?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then what possible harm can it do for us to have a chat? We are neighbours, after all.”

Myrtle was quick to take command of the situation. I was impressed.

“So, Justin,” she said. “How did you get on with Madge?”

“I didn’t like her.”

“That’s honest, at least. And why was that?”

“She almost put me out of business.”

“How did she do that?”

“She reported me to Trading Standards. She said she’d found a dead fly in one of my cakes.”

“Had she?”

“Of course not. There are no flies or any other insects in my bakery. It’s spotless. There must have been a dead fly on the worktop when she cut the cake. The whole thing was ridiculous. She didn’t even have the courtesy to come and tell me first; she just reported it to Trading Standards. They came to see me, and carried out an inspection of the bakery. You know what those people are like. They’re vicious jobsworths. They insisted I make all kinds of unnecessary improvements. It cost me a small fortune.”

“Are you sure that it was Madge who reported you?”

“Of course I am. Who else would it have been? She was always tutting about the cleanliness of the shop.”

“Did you actually ask her if she was the one?”

“Of course. She had the audacity to come into the shop after the inspector had been. I refused to serve her. When she asked why, I said it was because she’d reported me to Trading Standards.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She didn’t deny it. She just turned around and walked out.”