Witch Is When Stuff Got Serious (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 11) (3 page)

Chapter 3

Mr Ivers had a real spring in his step. Whatever did he have to be so happy about? I thought he’d still be in mourning over his Diamond. When he’d found out how much it would cost to have the correct engine fitted, he’d been forced to sell it.

“Morning, Jill! Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

“Gorgeous, yes. Pity you can’t take a run out in the Diamond.” Sometimes, it was scary how cruel I could be.

“That’s life, I guess. No good crying over spilled cream.”

“Milk.”

“Sorry?”

“Never mind. So, why are you so chipper? Are there some blockbuster movies out this week?”

“I haven’t had time to think about the movies. I’ve had other things on my mind.”

I could sense he was dying for me to ask, but I’m not that stupid.

“Funny you should ask,” he said.

Huh?

“I’ve met a lovely young woman.”

“Really?”

“Yes, through Love Spell.”

I was surprised the Love Spell girls hadn’t kicked him off their books. According to Hilary, all the witches he’d dated up until now had said he was boring—big surprise!

“That’s nice. Have you had many dates with her?”

“No. We’ve only been out on the one.”

That figured.

“But we really clicked—right from the get go. Her name’s Tess. She’s lovely.”

“Does she like the cinema, too?”

“No, funnily enough she doesn’t. And yet, it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I’ve barely thought about movies since I met her. I only just managed to get this week’s column for The Bugle completed on time.”

“Wow. It sounds like Tess has really made an impression on you.”

“She certainly has.”

“I’m very pleased for you, Mr Ivers. That’s great news.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet her. I’m sure you’ll like her.”

If Tess could keep Ivers off my back, then I was sure I would.

***

It was late afternoon, and I was thinking about calling it a day when the phone rang. It was Mad.

“Jill, they’ve just released me. Are you still okay to come and pick me up?”

“Sure, no problem. Stay where you are. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

I jumped in the car, and drove over to the police station. Mad was waiting for me in reception.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired. I need a shower and some shut-eye.”

“Come on, then. I’ll get you home. Or you can stay at my place if you’d prefer?”

“No. It’s okay, Jill. I’d rather get back home.”

We were about to leave the building when Jack Maxwell appeared.

“Jill, wait a minute, please.” He had another officer by his side.

“What’s up, Jack?”

“Madeline Lane, I’m arresting you for the murder of Anita Pick.” The other officer took Mad’s arm, and led her back inside the station. She was too tired and shocked to resist.

“What’s going on?”

“Sorry.” Jack pulled me to one side.

“What on earth are you playing at? You’ve only just released her. Why are you charging her?”

“We’ve found the murder weapon. It was on one of the bookshelves in the library. The fingerprints on it belong to your friend.”

***

Late afternoon, the next day, my phone rang. It was Pearl. She was so excited she could barely get the words out.

“Jill! You have to come over now! Come and see the conveyor belt!”

Cuppy C had been closed all morning for the engineers to install it. I’d tried several times to warn the twins that I didn’t think it was a good idea, but they were adamant that it would put them ahead of the competition.

“Will you come over, Jill? Please! You’ve got to see this!”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” Amber looked like a young child on Christmas morning.

The conveyor belt started behind the counter, went over to the wall, ran along that wall and the next, and then cut through the middle of the shop, back to the counter.

“It’s very long.” I observed.

“It had to be long,” Amber said. “To cover all of the tables.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But how do people get from that side of the shop to the other? The conveyor belt cuts them off.”

“They have to duck underneath it.”

“Right. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Would you like to see a demo?” Pearl said.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Sit over there, then.” Pearl pointed. “At the table against the far wall.”

Once I was seated, Amber and Pearl started to load the conveyor belt with a selection of cakes and buns. I was rather peckish, and quite fancied a blueberry muffin. Once the cakes were on the conveyor belt, one of the twins pressed the start button, and it began to move. Slowly—
very
slowly. Almost as slow as Mr Ivers’ Diamond.

By the time my blueberry muffin made its way around the shop, I would have starved to death. It would have been quicker to go and fetch one from the bakery.

“It’s a bit slow, isn’t it, girls?”

“Have some patience, Jill. There’s probably a way to make it go quicker. We just need time to work it out.”

“Okay. In the meantime, I think I’ll just walk over here and get my muffin because by the time it reaches me, it’ll be past its sell by date.”

***

It was two days since Mad had been arrested. She’d been charged with the murder of Anita Pick, and was being held on remand at Longdale Prison, which was a thirty-mile drive from Washbridge. I’d been in touch with her mother who had managed to arrange a pass for me to visit Mad.

Longdale was a depressing place. I joined the queue of relatives and friends who were waiting to visit their loved ones. After a quick pat down, we were allowed into the waiting area. Then, five minutes later, a bell rang, and we were ushered through to a much larger room where the inmates were already seated at tables. I spotted Mad in the far corner of the room. She looked tired and drawn—not her usual bubbly self at all.

“How are you?” It was a stupid question.

“I’ve been better.”

“I’m going to help you get out of here, but I need you to take me through exactly what happened that day.”

“Like I told you before, Anita was fine when we locked up. I went down to the archive, and when I got back, she was dead. I can’t have been gone for more than ten minutes—fifteen at the most.”

“Are you absolutely sure the library was empty when you locked up?”

“As sure as I can be. We have the same routine every day. The two of us walk through the library just before closing time, to hurry along any stragglers. Normally, by then, there’s no more than half a dozen people still inside. Once we’ve seen the last few out, we lock up.”

“What happened after you found her?”

“I called the ambulance and the police. I don’t really know why I bothered with the ambulance because I knew Anita was dead. Once the police arrived, I unlocked the doors, and let them in. The paramedics arrived shortly after.”

“Had you seen anyone acting suspiciously during the day?”

“No, but to be honest, I’d spent most of the time hiding in the cupboard—the one you found me in the other day.”

“Getting in some target practice with the crossbow?”

“No. Catching up on my sleep. We’d been to a function, sponsored by the Carnation Foundation, the night before. Anita and me were both invited. I didn’t really want to go, but I didn’t have much say in the matter. I may have had a couple of drinks too many, so the next day, I was still pretty much out on my feet. Anita didn’t seem to care that I’d gone AWOL; I think she’d pretty much given up on me.”

“Did Anita ever mention anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”

“We didn’t talk much. She didn’t like me, and if I’m honest, I didn’t like her very much either. We exchanged pleasantries each morning and evening, but that was about it. She moaned about her ex-husband a lot. I don’t know much about him, but from what I can gather, they were going through a rather messy divorce. The only other thing that comes to mind is that she had an ongoing dispute with her next door neighbour. I don’t know what it was about—dogs or something, I think. It sounded like a storm in a teacup to me, but her neighbour came into the library a few times. The two of them had a shouting match once. I had to intervene, and escort her neighbour off the premises because it was getting a bit heated.”

***

Great! Just what I needed!

I was on my way home after visiting Mad in prison when my car decided to give up on me.

I hated cars.

I managed to pull into a lay-by on a quiet country road, but when I took out my phone to call roadside assistance, the battery was stone dead. Fantastic! Could this day get any better?

Parked a hundred metres in front of me, in the same lay-by, was a white van. Maybe the owner would let me use his phone? As I walked towards it, I passed an A-board which read:
‘Malcom the Mobile Barber’
.

Inside the van was a man wearing a flat cap; he was fast asleep with his head on the steering wheel. When I knocked on the window, he stirred, and opened the door.

“Sorry, my dear, I only do men’s hair.”

“I’m not actually after a haircut. I’m parked back there. My car’s broken down and my phone is dead. I wondered if you had a phone I could use?”

“Yes, of course, dear. Come on board.”

Once I was inside, I could see he’d removed all the seats from what had obviously once been a minibus, and turned it into a small barber’s shop, complete with mirror, sink and barber’s chair. I’d never seen anything quite like it.

Roadside assistance confirmed my call was important to them, which was nice to know, and then put me on hold for fifteen minutes. When I eventually managed to speak to someone, they told me a mechanic would be with me as soon as possible—whatever that meant.

“I’ve never seen a mobile barber’s van like this one before,” I said.

“This little beauty is a one-off.” He was obviously proud of his mobile workplace.

“I’m Jill. I assume you’re Malcolm.”

“None other.”

I hadn’t seen more than a dozen cars go by since I’d pulled over.

“Do you get much trade out here, Malcolm?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve had two customers already.”

“Today?”

“No.” He laughed.

“This week?”

“This month.”

“Two this month? That’s not many is it?”

“Then there’s my regulars.”

“Right. And do you have many regulars?”

“Oh yes. There’s Bill.”

“Bill?”

“Yes, and Timothy.”

“Two then?”

“But Timothy has shaved his head for charity, so he probably won’t need my services for a while.”

“Have you ever considered parking somewhere a little busier? Maybe closer to the town centre?”

“No, dear. Too much competition there. Out here I’ve got it all to myself.”

I sat and chatted with Malcolm for the next thirty minutes. He was obviously completely bonkers, but appeared perfectly happy to ply his trade in the middle of nowhere. It was already halfway through the month, so by my calculations he was probably doing one haircut per week. It made my business look like a thriving concern.

I was glad to see the mechanic arrive, and even more pleased it wasn’t the same man who’d come out to Mr Ivers’ Diamond. This guy found a loose connection on the alternator. At least, that’s what he told me—it meant nothing to me.

I waved to Malcolm as I sped off, but he already had his head back on the steering wheel.

Chapter 4

As I walked along the street, I noticed there were several large vans parked directly outside of Ever A Wool Moment. Surely, they couldn’t all be making deliveries? When I got closer, I spotted the Wool TV logo on the side of the vehicles. Of course! They must be setting up for the reality TV show that Kathy had mentioned. I was curious to see what was happening, so I went inside and found Kathy sitting in a chair behind the counter. A young woman was doing her make-up.

“How’s it going, Kathy?”

“I’m fed up already.” She certainly looked it. “I have to wear this stupid mic all the time, and the cameras are going to be following me no matter where I go.”

“Not to the loo, surely?”

“No, Jill. Not to the loo.”

“How long are they going to be here?”

“Every day this week.”

Suddenly, Grandma appeared from the back office. She was dressed to the nines.

“Are you going to a wedding, Grandma?” I quipped. She gave me a look.

“I always dress like this, Jill. You know that.” Then she turned to Kathy. “I’ll walk the floor today as usual.”

Kathy rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t normally show her face out here for more than a few minutes each day,” she whispered. “She usually hides herself away in the back, and leaves muggins here to do everything. She’s just desperate to get herself on TV.”

“Young man,” Grandma shouted at the director. “Don’t forget to include close-ups of the displays of Everlasting Wool and One-Size Knitting Needles.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You better had. I’m doing you a favour allowing your cameras in here.”

“Will this be going out live?” I asked.

The director was obviously pleased to escape from Grandma’s interrogation. “Yes, we’ll be carrying a live stream throughout the day with a highlights program each evening.”

“Is there a time delay on the live stream? In case anything goes wrong?”

“No. It’s completely live—warts and all.”

Speaking of warts. How come Grandma’s wart had disappeared?

“Why are you staring at me, Jill?” she said.

Whoops.

“Err—I was —err nothing.”

Either she’d found the world’s best concealer or magic was involved. Maybe it would work on my frown lines?

“Okay, everyone!” The director shouted. “We go live in three, two—”

That was my cue to leave. I had a feeling that the next week could turn out to be very entertaining indeed.

***

When I arrived at Aunt Lucy’s, I found her staring out of the window, tutting to herself. She hadn’t even noticed me walk into the room.

“Ahem!”

“Oh. Hello, Jill. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Is anything wrong, Aunt Lucy?”

“Look at the state of this garden. It’s a real mess.”

“Hasn’t Sebastian been around lately?”

“I had to sack him.”

“Why?”

“Come on, Jill. You don’t have to pretend. I know what happened between him and the twins.”

“They told you?”

“They didn’t volunteer the information, but I’m their mother—I know when something’s wrong. I got it out of them eventually. Stupid girls. I sat them down and gave them a serious talking to. They’ve got two lovely fiancés, and yet they spend their time flirting with the gardener. Ridiculous! And, it’s left me in the lurch—I could hardly keep Sebastian on after that debacle. Look at my rhododendrons. I’ve never seen them looking so sorry for themselves.”

Now, I understood why the twins had suddenly rediscovered their fiancés, and had started house-hunting. Aunt Lucy must have given them a real dressing-down. The garden still looked quite splendid—it put mine to shame. But Aunt Lucy’s standards were extremely high, and I could see she was upset.

“I don’t suppose you know any gardeners, do you, Jill?”

“I know one—my brother-in-law, Peter, but I can’t exactly ask him. He’s a human, so he can’t come to Candlefield.”

“That’s a pity. I think I’m going to have to put an advert in The Candle.”

“What about Lester? Does he do any gardening?”

“Lester? Goodness, no. I wouldn’t trust him with my garden. I love the man to bits, but I don’t think he’d know a hydrangea from a hyena.”

“Talking of Lester, are you and he still thinking of moving to the human world?”

I had my fingers crossed that she’d dropped the idea of moving in with me.

“Lester suggested we could rent some sort of weekend retreat over in Washbridge, so we could see how I adjust.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“I’m just going to see how things develop. I’m not in any great hurry, I must admit.”

“Aunt Lucy, while I’m here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“It’s a bit of a confession, actually.”

“Oh?” She looked a little concerned.

“I’ve met my father.”

“But I thought you said you didn’t want to see him?”

“I hadn’t planned to, but I literally bumped into him in Washbridge.”

“Hmm? That probably wasn’t a coincidence.”

“I did wonder about that, but anyway we’ve met up again since then. He seemed very worried about my safety, and kept warning me to be careful.”

“Are you going to keep seeing him?”

“No. I have nothing to say to him. He abandoned me for no apparent reason, and made no effort to see me again. He’s not a part of my life. I have my family here in Candlefield, and my family in Washbridge. I don’t need him.”

“Good. It’s probably for the best.”

“Is Grandma still seeing Horace?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“What do you think of him?”

“He’s a strange man. I don’t really know what to make of him.”

“To be honest, he gives me the creeps. He came to my flat.”

“With Grandma?”

“No, by himself.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but he seems to know all about my sister and her family.”

“Have you mentioned this to Grandma?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“What would I say?
‘Your new boyfriend gives me the creeps’
? Maybe I just need time to get to know him.”

***

I’d tried really hard to persuade the twins that they should have a ‘soft’ launch of the conveyor belt—to test it while there weren’t many people in the shop, so they could iron out all of the problems. But no—they knew best. They wanted a big launch party, and they’d invited everyone.

And, today was the day.

Everyone who was anyone in Candlefield was in Cuppy C, including the mayor, the chief of police, numerous level six witches, and reporters from The Candle. Aunt Lucy and Lester were there too, along with the twins’ fiancés. Grandma had cried off; she said she had important business in Washbridge. I had a feeling she had a sense of what was to come. I’d thought I was there as a guest too, but it turned out they wanted me to work behind the counter. Great. I’d got all dressed up for nothing.

Amber and Pearl had both invested heavily in new outfits, and they’d spent hours preparing a speech which went on for way too long. Everyone in the audience looked comatose by the time Pearl wrapped it up.

“And so, in closing,” she said. “It is with great pleasure that we switch on the first tea room conveyor belt in Candlefield.” Both of them placed a hand on the red button, and pressed.

Just like before, the conveyor belt set off at a snail’s pace. If anything, it was even slower, probably because of the number of cakes which had been piled onto it. After a few minutes, the cakes were still making their way slowly around the room. The guests were becoming more and more impatient. The rumbles of complaint got louder as people grew tired of waiting for their cake.

“I thought you’d sorted this?” I said.

“We did.” Amber looked stressed. “We got it going faster, but I can’t remember how we did it.” She pressed a button, and the conveyor belt started to go in reverse. There were more moans and groans as the cakes got even further away from the guests. She pressed a different button, which at least meant it was travelling in the right direction again.

Pearl pulled one of the levers. “I think it’s this,” she said.

“No. It isn’t.” Amber pulled it back.

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

Suddenly, the lever broke off in their hands, and the conveyor belt began to speed around the room so quickly that the cakes flew off in all directions. A custard tart hit the mayor smack bang in the face. Buns were spilling into people’s laps.

Amber jumped up onto the counter and shouted, “Don’t panic. Everything’s in hand.”

But it was way too late; everyone was leaving. The last person to leave the shop was the photographer from The Candle. He turned, and snapped a few photos.

I could already picture the next morning’s headlines.

***

Everyone else had left, but I stayed on in Cuppy C. It seemed a shame to let the blueberry muffins go to waste.

“Hi, Jill.” It was Annie Christy. “Where is everyone? And what’s that monstrous thing?”

“A conveyor belt. It’s the twins’ latest brainwave, but things didn’t quite go to plan.”

“Oh dear. Can you spare me a minute?”

“Sure. Would you like a drink?”

“No, I can’t stay. I popped in on the off chance that I’d catch you here. I know you’re never far away from the blueberry muffins.”

Harsh, but true.

Some time ago, I’d been hired to find out who was sabotaging Annie’s mother’s bakery business. It turned out that it was actually her mother who was behind it. She’d done it for the best of reasons. Annie had wanted her to sell the business and retire, but her mother had been dead set against the idea. She hadn’t known how to tell her daughter that she didn’t want to sell up and retire, so she’d sabotaged her own business to put off the potential buyer. Anyway, it had all ended well, and afterwards, Annie and SupAid had helped me to find an expert for Lester to consult when he temporarily lost his magic powers.

“I haven’t seen you for ages, Annie. How are things at SupAid?”

“Not great, actually. That’s the reason I’m here. I’m after a favour. I’ll get straight to the point, Jill. Donations to SupAid are at an all-time low. I’m not sure why. Money’s tight, I guess. We’re struggling to meet our commitments. What we need is a big fundraiser—something that will really make an impact, and replenish the coffers. The truth is that myself and my colleagues are all out of ideas. I wondered if maybe you could come up with some suggestions?”

“Me? I know nothing about fundraising. What made you think of me?”

“You have the highest profile of all the witches in Candlefield, so anything you do will probably get the headlines.”

“But I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Will you at least think about it?”

“Yes, of course. If I come up with anything, I’ll give you a call.”

“Thanks, Jill. That’s all I can ask. I’d better be off. I’ve got an appointment in five minutes. Nice to see you again.”

A fundraiser? That sort of thing was more Kathy’s department. She was always raising funds for the school or some other good cause. I could just imagine how that conversation would go.

“Hey, Kathy. Do you have any suggestions for a fundraiser?”

“What’s it for?”

“SupAid.”

“Never heard of it.”

“They help supernatural creatures who have temporarily lost their magical powers.”

“Do what?”

“You know. Witches, wizards—that sort of thing.”

“Have you been drinking again, Jill?”