All Was Revealed (15 page)

“Okay, thanks, Mrs Lane.”

“I’ve told you. Call me Deli. Mrs Lane makes me sound ancient. Have you got yourself a fella yet?”

“Mum!” Mad yelled.

“I’m only asking. So, have you, Jill?”

“Yes, I am seeing someone.”

“That’s more than this one is doing.” She gestured to Mad. “She’s never likely to either, not the way she dresses. No fella wants to see a woman dressed in a woollen two-piece. I keep telling her to wear something that makes the most of what she’s got—you know—show a bit of cleavage and a bit of leg.”

“Mother!” Mad’s face was red with embarrassment. “What did I tell you?”

“Jill doesn’t mind, do you, Jill?”

I managed a smile.

“I’ve ordered in some pizza. It should be here in twenty minutes. I’ll go and shave my legs while we’re waiting.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Mad said, once her mother had gone.

“It’s just like the good old days.”

“I’ve got to get my own place. If I stay here much longer, I might do something I regret.”

It was almost thirty minutes later when a spotty, young guy arrived with the pizza. It was surprisingly good, but I would have enjoyed it even more had it not been for the fact that Nails was picking at his toe nails all through the meal. Every time Delilah yelled at him, he stopped, but only for a few minutes.

“So what’s your fella’s name?” Delilah said, through a mouthful of pizza.

“Jack.” I ducked to avoid a low-flying toe nail.

“You should bring him over to meet us some time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“When?”

“Soon.” The day after hell freezes over.

Chapter 16

These bean bags were such a stupid idea. I was in Beans—waiting for Jack. He’d called and asked if we could meet up. I’d suggested Coffee Triangle, but he’d reminded me it was drum day, so not exactly conducive to conversation. He’d said we needed to talk, but when I’d pressed him about what in particular, he’d been evasive. I had a horrible feeling this was not going to end well.

I was desperately trying to balance on the stupid bean bag, and drink my coffee at the same time. Whoever had come up with this idea had to have been crazy. When Jack walked in, our eyes met, and I thought I detected the hint of a smile. Maybe things weren’t as bad as I’d thought. Even so, it felt like forever while he got himself a coffee. I just wanted to know what this was all about.

“Maybe this place wasn’t such a good idea,” he said, almost spilling his drink as he got down onto the bean bag next to me.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” Fingers crossed.

“I thought we needed to clear the air.”

“Look, I’m sorry about—”

“Can I say my piece before you start with the apologies?”

“Yeah, sorry. I mean—err—yeah, go on.”

“Look, Jill. I realise you have a job to do, and I know that from time to time our paths are going to cross, professionally, but I can’t have you involved with cases unless I know about it. If nothing else, it’s embarrassing when I hear from one of my colleagues that my girlfriend is working on a case behind my back.”

He just called me his girlfriend, not
ex
-girlfriend. Maybe there was still hope.

“You’re absolutely right. I should have told you. I know it’s no excuse, but Stuart Steele approached me out of the blue, and asked if I’d look into Starr Fish’s murder.”

“And at that point you should have done what?” Jack prompted.

This was beginning to feel like an interrogation, and my instincts were to fight back, but I still had enough sense to realise that wasn’t a good idea.

“I should have mentioned it to you.”

“But instead, you pumped me for information.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you call it? You asked me questions about the case without mentioning you were working on it.”

“Yeah but—”

“But nothing, Jill. If we’re to make a go of this, that can’t happen again. If you’re working on any case that the police are involved with, you have to tell me.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean you can tell me I can’t work the case.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course you would. You do it every time.”

“Okay. I’m prepared to accept that you’re free to work on whatever cases you wish, but only on condition that you tell me. Agreed?”

“That’s fair. Agreed. So are we good now?”

“Yes, but there’s one more thing.”

“Go on.”

“I need you to promise that you won’t lie to me ever again. About anything.”

What? My whole life was a lie—in particular the fact that I was a witch, and could never tell Jack.

“Jill?”

“Yeah, of course. I promise.”

Oh bum!

***

It was time to go back to Middle Tweaking, yet again. It was a pity I couldn’t just magic myself around the human world. The truth was, I probably could, now that I had the additional powers I’d inherited from Magna, but it just didn’t feel right. I tried to keep the magic I used in Washbridge to a bare minimum because I ran the risk of being exposed as a witch. I was even more conscious of the danger of giving myself away now I was seeing Jack.

Myrtle was waiting for me at the old watermill.

“Are you okay, Jill? You look a bit down in the dumps. Not man trouble is it?”

“No, of course not.”

“We’d better get going. I told Brendan Breeze that we’d be with him five minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry I’m late. There were roadworks in Lower Tweaking.”

“It’s okay. They’re always digging that road up.”

Brendan Breeze had the look of a sad puppy, and just as Myrtle had warned, smelled of fish. He barely said a word when he answered the door.

“I still can’t believe it.” His eyes looked bloodshot as though he’d been crying for a long time. ‘I can’t believe Madge is dead.”

“It came as a shock to us all.” Myrtle reassured him.

“You know that Madge and I used to be an item, I suppose.”

“Yes, but the way I heard it, you dumped her.”

“It’s true. I did. I was an idiot; I should never have done it. Madge and I were good together. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“From what I hear, you traded her in for a younger model.” Myrtle was taking no prisoners now.

“You’re right. I’m just a stupid old man.”

“You’re surely not waiting for me to disagree, are you Brendan?”

“No, I know I am. I allowed my eyes to wander, and convinced myself that Suzy was interested in me. I was stupid. She was only after what she could get. I bought her clothes, jewellery, handbags, all sorts of things. That’s all she wanted me for. When the money began to run out, she found herself a new boyfriend, and left me in the lurch. I tried to make it up with Madge, but she didn’t want to know.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Of course not. It’s all I deserved.”

“You got that much right. Didn’t you even accuse her of trying to sabotage your business?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shook his head. “Madge would never have done anything like that. Not in a million years. It’s just that things had started to go wrong with the business, and Suzy was two-timing me with some young fellow. I think the stress must have got to me, and I just lashed out. It was crazy. I should never have said the things I said. If I could take them back now, I would.” He started towards the door. “Would you excuse me for a minute? I’ve got a thumping headache. I need to get some tablets.”

When he had disappeared into the kitchen, I turned to Myrtle and said, “What do you think?”

“Words are cheap. It’s easy for him to be sorry now. Even so, my gut feeling is he’s telling the truth.”

I nodded. If this was all an act, it was a really good one.

When he came back, he was still rubbing his forehead. “Sorry about that. I’ve got one heck of a hangover. There was a lock-in at The Old Trout last night.”

“I thought those had been stopped,” Myrtle said.

“They were for a long time. You know why, I assume?”

Myrtle shook her head.

“Trevor used to run them every night. Madge lived right next door, and had to get up early for the post office. The late night drinkers were waking her up when they left the pub in the early hours of the morning. She complained to Trevor, and when he did nothing about it, she took it to the police. They put a stop to the lock-ins. They would probably have turned a blind eye if Madge hadn’t complained.”

“What did you think about the lottery situation,” Myrtle asked.

“There’s no way Madge would have cheated the others. It was obviously a genuine mistake. But, I was so blinded by rage at the time, that I sided with those who accused her of cheating. I’m ashamed; I should have stood up for her.”

As the minutes passed, Brendan became less and less responsive. He was obviously still suffering from the previous night’s drinking.

“Okay Brendan.” Myrtle stood up. “I think we’d better leave it there. If I have any more questions, I’ll come and see you again when you’re not so hung over.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry about this.” He showed us to the door. “I hope you find out who murdered Madge. She didn’t deserve to meet her end like that.”

When we got outside, I asked Myrtle what she’d made of Brendan.

“He seemed genuinely sorry about the way he’d treated Madge, but I was more interested in what he had to say about the lock-ins.”

“I wasn’t really sure what that was all about.”

“With all the clubs and late-night bars in the city, there’s probably no need for lock-ins. But out here in the sticks, it’s different. The pubs are expected to close by eleven or eleven-thirty at the latest. There’s only the one pub in Middle Tweaking, and the truth is that a lot of people want to keep drinking long after that—especially at the weekend. Trevor satisfied that demand by holding lock-ins.”

“At the risk of sounding stupid, what exactly is a lock-in?”

“At ‘closing time’, the landlord locks the doors as though the pub is closed. Those remaining in the pub after that time are supposed to be friends of the landlord who have been invited for a drink, with no money changing hands. In reality, it’s just the regular customers who have stayed behind to drink and spend money.”

“And according to Brendan, Madge got the lock-ins closed down.”

“Exactly, and that’s what caught my attention,” Myrtle said. “Trevor won’t have been very happy that Madge cut off a major part of his income.”

“Are you suggesting that could be a motive for murder?”

“Probably not, but I do think we should have another word with our friend, Trevor.”

“Do you want to do that now?”

“No time like the present.”

“Why don’t you ask him how he felt about Madge getting the lock-ins closed down while I take a closer look around the pub.”

“That’s a good idea, Jill. I’ll go in first, and see if I can get him to talk to me in the back. You give it five minutes, then come in and take a good look around. See if you come up with anything of interest.”

I watched through the window as Myrtle approached Trevor who was behind the bar. They spoke for a while, and then disappeared into the back. That was my cue.

“Morning, madam.” The young woman behind the bar greeted me. “What can I get for you?”

“Could I just get a coffee, please?”

“Certainly. Cappuccino, latte, flat white?”

“Latte please.”

“Regular or decaf?”

“Regular.”

“Skinny or—”

“Just give me a cup of tea, please.” Life was too short.

“Okay, I’ll bring it over to you.”

There were framed photos on all of the walls. The majority were of fishing competitions. Trevor Total featured prominently in every photo. In most he was either holding a large fish or an even larger trophy. When I studied them in more detail, I could see that most of the trophies had been won for fly fishing. In fact, many of the photos referred to Trevor (the Fly) Total.

“There you are, madam.” The barmaid put the tray on the table. “Help yourself to milk and sugar.”

Before I could take a drink, Myrtle reappeared, and gestured for me to follow her out of the pub.

“Did you find anything, Jill?”

“Not really. I discovered that Trevor is an expert fly fisherman, but I don’t think that helps us. What about you? Did you come up with anything?”

“He didn’t appreciate my line of questioning. As soon as I got onto the subject of the lock-ins, his demeanour changed, and he became very defensive. He said there’d never been any trouble with the lock-ins, and the only reason he’d stopped them was because he’d been feeling the stress of working so many hours.”

“I thought it was Madge who had got them closed down?”

“I put that to him, but he insisted that wasn’t the case.”

“Brendan seemed to think it was. They can’t both be right.”

Myrtle said nothing for the longest moment; she was obviously deep in thought. “I have a hunch, but to prove it, I’m going to need the services of our friends Hodd and Jobbs.”

“Another break-in?”

“Please, Jill.” Myrtle tutted. “Such crude terminology. The ladies wouldn’t approve.”

“Sorry. What exactly do you have in mind?”

“All in good time. Can you come back tonight for the lock-in?”

“Sure. What time?”

“Can you get here for about ten-thirty?”

“No problem. What’s the plan?”

“Once the lock-in is in full swing, I’ll need you to keep Trevor occupied while Hodd and Jobbs do their thing. Can you do that?”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight.”