Authors: Adele Abbott
All Was Revealed (17 page)
“Myrtle, if you ever decide to come and live in Washbridge, there’s a job waiting for you. I think we’d make a great team.”
“I’m too old for all that. That’s a young person’s game. I think I’ll stay in Middle Tweaking; the pace of life here is more suited to me. Besides which, what would Hodd and Jobbs do without me?”
“Well, thanks again. You’ve taught me a great deal.”
“Not at all Jill, I’ve learnt a lot from you too. Keep in touch.”
“I will.”
“Bye then.”
The next morning, I hadn’t been in the office very long when I felt a bit of a chill. Sure enough, moments later, the colonel and Priscilla appeared. Thankfully, they were both dressed, so I didn’t have to avert my eyes.
“Hi, Colonel. Hi, Priscilla. How’s things?”
“Much better, Jill, thank you,” the colonel said. “And it’s all down to you, again. I’m pleased to report that Matthew Most is no longer causing us problems up at the house.”
“So I understand. Mad dropped in and told me that she’d sent him packing back to Ghost Town. Apparently, there were already several warrants out for him.”
“He was a nasty piece of work altogether.” The colonel glanced at Priscilla who was remarkably quiet. “We’re glad to be rid of him, aren’t we, Cilla?”
“Yes, Briggsy.”
Unless I was very much mistaken, Cilla didn’t seem quite as pleased with the outcome as the colonel obviously was.
“You really must let us thank you properly, Jill,” the colonel said. “Why don’t you come up to the house for dinner some time?”
“Is that possible? What about the new owners?”
“They hardly ever venture into the west wing. We’ve more or less made that our home now, haven’t we, Cilla?”
“Yes, Briggsy. It’s really very private up there.” She seemed a little brighter now. “We’d love to have you join us for dinner.”
“But what about—err—I mean—how do you manage to prepare meals?”
“That’s the other piece of news I have for you.” The colonel beamed with obvious delight. “You remember Mrs Burnbridge, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. Is she enjoying her retirement?”
“That’s the thing. Her retirement didn’t last very long.”
“Oh dear, you don’t mean—”
“No, nothing like that. She’s perfectly fine. The other day, I overheard the new owner mention that he could do with a housekeeper/cook. He was toying with the idea of advertising, so I conveniently left some papers on his desk: Mrs Burnbridge’s employment records.”
“And he contacted her?”
“He certainly did. Mrs Burnbridge was delighted to get back to the house. Retirement didn’t suit her; she was bored to tears.”
“Have you managed to make contact with her?”
“Yes indeed.”
“She didn’t die of fright, then?”
“No. She seemed to take it all in her stride. I should have known she would. And, of course, I introduced her to Cilla. You and Mrs Burnbridge get on famously, don’t you, Cilla?”
“Oh yes, she’s such a lovely old dear.”
“How does it work with the meals?”
“Primarily, of course, Mrs Burnbridge is working for the new owner, but she also makes meals for us from time to time. If you were to join us for dinner, you’d actually be enjoying Mrs Burnbridge’s cooking.”
“In that case, I’d love to. Will Mrs Burnbridge be joining us?”
“I don’t see why not. That’s a jolly good idea. What about bringing your young man too?”
“I don’t think that’s going to work, unfortunately, Colonel.”
“Have you and he fallen out?”
“Nothing like that. It’s just that he doesn’t know ghosts exist, and I’d rather keep it that way.”
“Of course. I understand. Not to worry. I’ll be in touch to arrange a date.”
***
Now the case in Middle Tweaking had been resolved, I could focus all my attention on the Starr Fish murder. I’d arranged to meet with Maureen James, who was Scott Venus’s old girlfriend. Of course, when she’d gone out with him, he hadn’t been ‘Scott Venus’; he’d been plain old Alan Smith. Maureen flat-shared in an apartment block, which was close to Beans.
The woman who answered the door was very spotty. I don’t mean she had acne; everything she was wearing was covered in spots: A polka-dot dress, grey tights covered with little red spots, and in her hair, a yellow ribbon covered in blue spots.
“Hello?” She was obviously surprised to see me. “I’m just on my way out.”
“Are you Maureen James?”
“No, I’m Dotty.”
I laughed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dotty?”
“Yeah, that’s my name.”
“But, the dots—you are covered—never mind. Is Maureen in?”
“She’s in her bedroom. Do you want me to get her for you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Who shall I say wants to speak to her?”
“Tell her it’s Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator.”
“I bet that’s exciting! I’ve always wanted to be a private investigator. I think I’d be really good at undercover work.”
“Really?” She wouldn’t be at all conspicuous in that outfit.
“Anyway, I’ll just go and get Maureen.” Moments later, I heard her shout, “Mo! Mo! There’s a private investigator here to see you.”
There was a muffled sound, and moments later, Dotty came back.
“She’s in bed. She always sleeps late, but I think she’s getting up now. Sorry, but I have to get going.”
I waited by the door, but after five minutes, there was still no sign of the elusive Maureen, so I stepped inside.
“Hello? Hello? Maureen?”
Still no sign, so I found what appeared to be the bedroom, and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I pushed it open. There was someone under the duvet; I pulled it back just enough to reveal a head.
“What do you want?” The woman’s pyjamas were covered in pears, apples, oranges, grapes, and all manner of fruit. She looked at me through half-open eyes.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“My name’s Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator.”
“No thanks. I’ve already got some.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
“Bye.”
“No, don’t go back to sleep.” I shook her gently until she opened her eyes again.
“Who are you?”
Oh, boy. This was going to take some time.
I eventually managed to get her out of bed. But I had to make her a cup of coffee because without it, I wasn’t convinced she’d stay awake.
We were in the kitchen
.
“Who did you say you were again?”
“Jill Gooder, private investigator.”
“What do you want?”
“I believe you used to go out with Alan Smith?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I assume that was before he became Scott Venus.”
“Scott Venus?” She scoffed. “I told him that was a stupid name.”
“You and he are no longer an item?”
She shook her head.
“Did it end before or after he went on the reality TV show?”
“Afterwards. We were fine before he got involved with all that. When he said he was submitting an application for the show, it never crossed my mind that he might actually get in. And even when he did, I didn’t think anything would come of it.”
“When did he change his name?”
“He’d heard that some of the other contestants were changing their names before they went in. He reckoned if he didn’t do the same, he wouldn’t have a chance. He said no one would vote for Alan Smith when there were contestants like Starr Fish in there. I tried to persuade him not to do it, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Did he split up with you as soon as he was voted out of the competition?”
“No, not straight away. I’d half expected it because I’d seen him flirting with Starr Fish on TV. I didn’t know whether that was real or just for the benefit of the cameras. But, when he came out, we seemed to be okay for a while. Until Chaz Taylor stuck his oar in.”
“Chaz? His manager?”
“Yeah. He signed them all up before the show began. A real conman if ever there was one. Anyway, he had the bright idea that if Scott—Scott? Listen to me,
I’m
calling him Scott now. Anyway, Chaz had the bright idea that if Alan and Starr pretended they were a couple then the press would take more interest in them.”
“From what I understand, it didn’t quite work out like that.”
“No, it didn’t. The press were only interested in Starr. Poor old Alan got his nose pushed out.”
“What about you? You must resent Alan for dumping you like that.”
“I wasn’t very pleased at the time, but I’m over it now. I’m glad I found out what he was like before we got too involved. I’ve seen a couple of guys since then, so he’s history now.”
“Do you think Alan could have murdered Starr Fish?”
“Alan? Murder someone? Not in a million years. I don’t think Alan’s your man.”
***
As I walked back to the office, I noticed a new shop which I hadn’t seen before. The last time I’d been on that street, the shop had been empty. Someone had obviously spent quite a bit of money on it because the frontage had been completely revamped. It was the sign that caught my attention: ‘Love You To Death Dating Agency’.
Surely not. It couldn’t be, could it? I was probably going to regret this, but curiosity got the better of me.
The young woman behind the reception desk greeted me with more of a frown than a smile.
“I just popped in out of curiosity. Have you been open long?”
“No, we only opened last week. Aren’t you a witch?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m very sorry, but I don’t think we can help you. We’re a dating agency which is exclusively for Grim Reapers.”
“That’s what I thought. Tell me, is the owner by any chance James Keeper?”
“Yes. Do you know Jim?”
“Our paths have crossed. In fact, he discussed the idea of this dating agency with me and Hilary from Love Spell.”
“Hilary has been helping Jim with the launch.”
“It’s nice to see that he got the business off the ground. Is Jim in today?”
“No, he’s at a meeting with the accountant.”
“Oh, well. Never mind. How’s business so far?”
“It’s early days, but we’ve already had about half a dozen Reapers sign up.”
“I didn’t realise there were so many in Washbridge.”
“There’s always a demand for Reapers.”
“I guess so.”
“There aren’t any other specialised Reaper dating agencies, so Jim has cornered the market.”
“How does it work exactly? Do you pair up Grim Reapers with humans?”
“No, Jim considered doing that. But, based on his own experience with humans, he decided it wouldn’t work.”
“He’s probably right.” I thought back to my date with him.
“So he decided the agency would be exclusively for Grim Reapers.”
“But don’t you get people just wandering in off the street?”
“Not many. We get the odd person who, like yourself, is curious. If they’re a sup, we just explain the agency is only for Reapers. If it’s a human, it’s a little more difficult. We can hardly say that we don’t accept humans, so we allow them to sign up. The first month is free, but they never hear from us again, so they don’t end up paying us any money.”
“That’s quite ingenious. What about you? Have you used the agency?”
“No, I have no need for it. I already have a boyfriend.”
“Another Reaper?”
“Yes.”
“I see. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Kim. Kim Neaper.”
“No, seriously, what’s your real name?”
“That
is
my real name.”
“So you’re Kim Neaper, the Grim Reaper?”
“Oh? I see what you mean. It rhymes, doesn’t it? It never occurred to me.”
O—kay.
“Well, give my regards to Jim. Tell him I’ll pop in again some time to see how things are going.”
“Grandma? What a nice surprise.”
Did you see how I did that? I actually sounded like I meant it. I was getting really good at this.
“Don’t pretend you’re pleased to see me,” she barked.
Seems I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.
“To what do I owe this
pleasure
?”
“It’s time for your lesson.”
“Sorry?”
She sighed. “Your lesson. It is time for it. Which bit of that don’t you understand?”
“But Grandma, don’t you remember? I got into the sealed room at Candlefield Museum of Witchcraft. I’ve inherited all of Magna’s knowledge and power. Surely I don’t still need lessons, do I?”
“I said it was time for
your
lesson. I did not say it was time for you to
take
a lesson. You’re
giving
the lesson.”
“Me? Give a lesson? Who to?”
“To a bunch of young wizards and witches who are all starting out on their own magical journey. With your help, they’ll soon achieve level one, hopefully.”
“You mean, like, be a teacher?”
“Only if you can learn to speak properly first. ‘
You mean, like, be a teacher?’
Was that supposed to be a sentence?”
“Sorry. You just caught me off-guard. Do you mean you want me to teach them?”
“That’s precisely what I mean. Witchcraft is all about paying it forward.”
“But, I’m busy! I’ve got cases to work on.”
“Jill, you and I both know that any time you spend in Candlefield does not impact on your time here in the human world. So, giving a lesson to a few children is not going to have any effect on this silly little business of yours.”
“Excuse me! This is not a
‘silly little business’
. And, even though time stands still, it still uses up my energy.”
“Aww, you poor thing.”
I might have known better than to expect any sympathy. “So where am I supposed to give this lesson?”
“In the Range, of course. Come on, they’ve been waiting for five minutes already.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before now? I haven’t had chance to prepare.”
“Be quiet with your excuses.” She held out her bony hand.
It was pointless arguing once Grandma had made up her mind, so I took her hand, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the Range. It was quite a while since I’d been there. My mind went back to my very first visit with Grandma and the twins. At the time, I’d been on level one. When Grandma had asked me to perform the ‘transform’ spell, I’d had no idea that it was a level five spell. It was after that I began to realise I had the potential to become a great witch.
“Earth to Jill. Are you with us?” Grandma’s voice brought me back down to earth with a thud.
“Yeah, sorry—I was just—err—yeah I’m back.”
“Good. It’s time for you to meet your pupils.” She led the way to a quiet section of the Range where a bunch of young witches and wizards were waiting. There were eight of them in total: Four boys and four girls. They all looked at me expectantly.
“Right, boys and girls,” Grandma said. “As promised, your teacher will be Jill Gooder. I assume you’ve all heard of her?” They all nodded. “Good. In that case, I’ll leave you in Miss Gooder’s capable hands.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t mess this up.”
Before I could respond, she’d disappeared.
“Hello, everyone.”
“Hello, Miss Gooder!” They all said in unison.
“I think you should call me Jill.”
“We can’t do that,” a young witch at the front said. “We’re not allowed to call teachers by their first name.”
“Who says?”
“We were all given a book of rules. One of them is that you must always address teachers by their surname.”
“Okay, Miss Gooder it is then. That lady was my grandma, but I suppose you already know that?”
They all nodded.
“You all said you’ve heard of me? How?”
All hands went up; I pointed to one of the young wizards at the front.
“What’s your name?”
“Donald, Miss.”
“Hello, Donald. How have you heard of me?”
“You’re the witch who got into the sealed room at the Museum of Witchcraft.”
“That’s right, Donald. I did.”
“My mum says, you must be the most powerful witch there’s ever been because no one else has ever been able to get into that room. Is that right, Miss?”
“I’m not sure about that, Donald. I’m actually still only a level three witch.”
Another hand shot up; a young witch, this time.
“What’s your name?”
“Lydia, Miss Gooder. My dad says you should be a level six witch for getting into the sealed room, and for all the competitions you’ve won.”
“That’s very nice of your dad, but I have to work my way through the levels unless I win the Levels Competition next year.”
“You will win it, Miss! My dad says you definitely will!”
“We’ll have to see. Anyway, I suppose we ought to get started with the lesson. Look, I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not really a teacher. I didn’t even know I was going to be taking this class until about five minutes ago, so I haven’t prepared anything. Maybe, we could focus on one spell, and see how it goes? How do you feel about that?”
They all nodded enthusiastically.
Being there with them made me realise what I’d missed out on as a kid. Their enthusiasm for learning magic was clear to see. They would have many years to develop their skills whereas I’d been totally unaware that I was a witch, so had grown up without magic in my life.
“Why don’t we start with something fairly simple: The ‘faster’ spell. Do you all know that one?” They all nodded. “Are you sure?”
One hand went up. A young wizard.
“Yes, what’s your name?”
“Tim, Miss Gooder. I don’t know it. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, Tim. That’s what you’re here to learn. Do you all have your Book of Spells with you?”
They grabbed their bags, and pulled out a copy of the same book that I’d once been given by Aunt Lucy.
“I tell you what. Why don’t you all spend a few minutes looking at the ‘faster’ spell. Then we’ll give it a try, and see how you get on. Don’t worry if you find it difficult to remember the images at first. I was hopeless when I started.”
That seemed to make them relax a little.
“I’ll take a walk around the Range while you study the spell.”
I figured if I walked around the perimeter, it would give them plenty of time to swot up on the spell. I passed by several groups of witches and wizards—all at different stages of the learning process. I spotted at least a dozen level six witches. Whereas at one time, they wouldn’t have even noticed me, today they all seemed to be watching me. It made me a little self-conscious.
“What gives you the right to teach a class?” The familiar, but unwelcome voice came from behind me. I turned around to find my BFF, Alicia.
“Grandma asked me to take it, if you must know.”
“You’ve no right to be teaching witches and wizards. You’re not even a proper witch yourself.”
“Nice to see you too. How’s Ma Chivers?”
“If I had my way, you wouldn’t be allowed to take these lessons. I’ve already spoken to Ma Chivers about it. She’s not very happy. She says she’s going to bring it up with the other level six witches.”
“That’s fine by me. I’ll be happy to stand down if that’s what people want. But for now, I’ve been asked to take this class, and that’s what I’m going to do. So, if you don’t mind, Alicia, there are some young witches and wizards waiting for me.”
She huffed and puffed, but didn’t make any attempt to stop me.
When I got back to the kids, they were still poring over the page for the ‘faster’ spell.
“Right, everyone. Time to put your books away.” I waited until they had. “On the count of three, I want you to cast the spell, and then run to that wall on the far side of the Range. Then turn around and run back. Okay? One, two, three.”
The concentration was etched on their faces. One by one, they all set off, running at breakneck speed towards the wall.
All except one, that is.
Tim was still standing there with his eyes closed.
“Tim? Are you okay?”
“I keep getting the images mixed up, Miss. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think you’re trying a little too hard. Take your book back out again.”
“But Miss, I’m meant to have memorised it.”
“It doesn’t matter about that. It’s more important that you prove to yourself you can cast the spell.” I flicked through the book until I reached the ‘faster’ spell. “There you are. Look at the images, cast the spell, and then off you go.”
The spell worked perfectly. He ran to the wall and back again, finishing only a few yards behind the others.
“That’s very good, everyone. I don’t know how often we’ll be having these lessons, but there’s something very important I want to tell you. You mustn’t spend every spare minute on this. It’s important you find time to be with your friends, and for play. You should try to devote no more than one hour each day to studying this book. When we have our next lesson, I’ll pick one spell, and we’ll make sure that you’re able to master it. Before we finish today, does anyone have any questions?”
All their hands went up.
“Lydia?”
“Will you sign my spell book, please, Miss Gooder?”
“Sign your book?”
“Please, Miss.”
“And mine!”
“And mine!”
Wow! Kathy, eat your heart out.
***
I was making remarkably little progress in the Starr Fish murder case. Even so, I thought I’d better give Stuart Steele an update. I preferred to do it at a time that suited me rather than have him contact me out of the blue. If he was to call when Jack was with me, it could have been very embarrassing.
So, after I’d finished signing autographs for my young fans—
What? If Kathy can have fans, then I’m sure a superstar witch like me can.
Anyway, as I was saying. I magicked myself over to Bar Fish, in the hope that he’d be there.
I was out of luck. The bar manager told me that Stuart was out of town for a couple of days. I asked him what he made of his boss.
“I knew Stuart long before he opened Bar Fish. He used to come into the bar where I worked previously, on the other side of Washbridge. That’s how I landed this job. He liked the way I ran the bar, and asked if I’d do the same for him here. It sounded like a great opportunity. It was a lot more money.”
“I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
“There have been a lot of rumours recently.”
“What kind of rumours?”
“I shouldn’t really say.”
“Come on. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Rumours that Stuart overspent putting this place together, and that the money’s run out. I overheard him on the phone to his accountant—or maybe the bank. He said something about cash-flow problems. And he hasn’t been himself recently. He always used to be a happy-go-lucky guy. Maybe it’s just the pressure he’s been under, but he’s been really short with everyone. I’m worried about whether or not the bar is going to survive, and if I’ll still have a job. I don’t think it helped that Stuart’s girlfriend dumped him.”
“Do you know why?”
“No idea. He wouldn’t talk about it.”
“I don’t suppose you know how I can get in touch with her, do you?”
“I do, actually. Stuart gave me her phone number in case I couldn’t reach him any time.”