Witch Is Where Clowns Go To Die (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 38)

by Adele Abbott

“If you’re a witch, how can the lady in the house possibly be your sister? She’s a human.”

  “I was adopted, but never mind about me. How come you two are living in this garden?”

  “The man who lives here bought us from the garden centre. You’re not going to tell the rogue retrievers, are you?” Len said. “They’ll send us back to Candlefield and we really like it here.”

  “Yeah.” Ben nodded. “This garden really catches the sun.”

  “I won’t tell the rogue retrievers if you promise to behave, and that means not swapping places willy-nilly.”

  “But it gets really boring sitting in the same place all the time. If they’d just move us around occasionally, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “Okay. I’ll have a word with my sister and suggest that she moves you around the garden every now and then, but only if you promise to stay put the rest of the time.”

  Before they could respond, I heard Kathy’s voice behind me.

  “Jill, why are you talking to those gnomes?”

  “I’m not.” I laughed. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I heard you. You said something about moving around the garden.”

  “I was just thinking out loud. I read an article at the weekend about garden gnomes.”

  “Really? In which magazine?”

  “I think it was called Gnomes and Gardens. Anyway, the gist of it was that in order to get the most out of your garden gnomes, you should move them around regularly.”

  “What difference would that make? That sounds like nonsense to me.”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge. The man who wrote the article was the country’s leading expert in garden gnomes. He reckons moving them around makes it more likely visitors will notice and admire them. If you keep them in the same place, they just blend into the background.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. I’ll mention it to Pete, and suggest that he moves them around every week. Come on, let’s go back inside, your tea’s going cold.”

  As Kathy started back to the house, I turned to the gnomes who both gave me the thumbs up.

  “What’s in it?” I shook the present she’d given me. “Can I open it?”

  “No, you can’t. Wait until you get home and open it with Jack.”

  “Won’t you even give me a clue?”

  “No. You were just the same when we were kids. You always tried to find your birthday presents.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. Don’t you remember the year Mum and Dad bought you a CD player? You found it three days before your birthday, and you were so busy listening to the music that you didn’t hear Mum come into the room. She caught you red-handed.”

  “I don’t remember that. You’re just making it up.”

  “If you say so. How are you and Jack celebrating tonight?”

  “Nothing special. Just dinner for two.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’re not. We’re staying in.”

  “That’s a bit boring, isn’t it? The four of us should have gone out to celebrate.”

  “You’re right, we should have. In fact, that’s given me an idea. Why don’t you and Peter come over tonight?”

  “Won’t Jack mind? He’s probably looking forward to an intimate dinner for two.”

  “No. He’d love it if you came over. What do you say?”

  “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

  “Absolutely.”

  ***

  Florence hadn’t needed any persuading to go around to Wendy’s house for tea. In fact, she’d been asking me every five minutes whether it was time to go yet.

  “Florence, are you ready? It’s time now.”

  “I’m ready, Mummy.” She came running over. “How long will I be staying at Wendy’s house?”

  “Just a couple of hours, then I’ll come and pick you up.”

  Wendy and her mother, Donna, must have been looking for us because the door flew open even before we got through the gate. Wendy came running down the path and gave Florence a hug, then the two of them disappeared inside, chatting and giggling.

  “Thanks for doing this, Donna,” I said.

  “No problem. Wendy’s been looking forward to it.”

  “Is it okay if I pick Florence up at seven?”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “By the way, while I think about it, you know those two vampires you saw in the village the other day?”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a good chance you’re going to see a lot more sups around here from now on.”

  “How come?”

  “I told you that my grandmother had taken over the hotel in the village, didn’t I? Well, it seems she’s been targeting her marketing at sups who’ve never ventured out of the paranormal world before. The ads invite them to enjoy their first experience of the human world here in Middle Tweaking. That’s why she called the hotel, Hotel First Time.”

  “I take it you didn’t know that’s what she had planned?”

  “I had no idea.”

  “It could be dangerous, don’t you think?”

  “It already is. I managed to stop those two vampires just as they were about to attack the vicar.”

  “No! Seriously?”

  “Yeah. If I’d got there a couple of minutes later, he’d have been a goner.”

  “How did the vicar react?”

  “Fortunately, he didn’t even see them; he was oblivious to the whole thing. I dragged them back to the hotel and tore a strip off my grandmother. I told her that she had to provide all her guests with instructions on how to behave in the human world.”

  “How did she react to that?”

  “She wasn’t very happy about me sticking my nose in, but I threatened to get the rogue retrievers involved, and that was enough to persuade her to put together information packs for her guests.”

  “Do you think that will be enough?”

  “Hopefully, but who knows? Keep your eyes peeled, would you? If you see any sups stepping out of line, let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’d better get going. I’ll see you at seven.”

  Aunt Lucy had come through for us big time—she’d managed to locate a company who not only worked in both the paranormal and human worlds, but were also able to fit us in at short notice. Candle Caterers had arrived dead on time and were busy in the kitchen.

  “You’re looking surprisingly happy,” Jack said.

  “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s our anniversary, after all.”

  “I know that, but our parents will be here soon. I expected you to have a long face all evening.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Really?” He eyed me suspiciously.

  Tee-hee. Little did he know.

  “Where shall I put this?” Jack held up the vase Kathy had bought as an anniversary present.

  “Can’t you drop it on the floor, accidentally on purpose?”

  “No, I can’t. I don’t know why you don’t like it. I think it’s quite handsome.”

  “Kathy never did have any taste. Stick it in the spare bedroom for now.”

  A chill fell over the room, announcing the arrival of my mother and father. Although the two of them still worked together at Cakey C, they rarely had a good word to say about one another. And, judging by the way they were looking daggers at each other, they’d already managed to fall out.

  My mother threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. “I can’t believe another year has gone by. Where does time go?” Then she turned to my father. “Sit down, you. You’re making the place look untidy.”

  “Yes, dear.” He rolled his eyes at me.

  The temperature dipped again, and moments later, Jack’s parents appeared.

  “Hi, darling.” Yvonne gave Jack a hug, then turned to me. “It’s lovely to see you again, Jill. It’s been too long.”

  “It’s great to see you all,” Jack’s dad, Roy, had a smile f
or everyone.

  We’d only just sat down, and Yvonne and my mother were already glaring at one another.

  “How’s Cakey C doing, Mum?” I asked, in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

  “It’s going from strength to strength, thanks, darling. Sales and profits are increasing nicely.”

  “Did you manage to get your hygiene certificate reinstated, Darlene?” Yvonne asked.

  My mother went red in the face and for a horrible moment, I thought she was going to launch herself across the table at Yvonne. “That was just a misunderstanding, as you well know.”

  “As I remember it, the customers deserted the shop in droves.”

  “That was because a lot of our clientele are witches. It stands to reason they wouldn’t want to be in the same room as a witchfinder. That’s why we had to let you go, Yvonne.”

  “Rubbish. You were just annoyed because I refused to serve food until you got the hygiene certificate renewed.”

  “Maybe we should change the subject, ladies.” Jack tried to defuse the situation, but to no avail because my mother had the bit between her teeth now.

  “My friend, Rita Rawhide, was killed by one of your kind.” She pointed an accusing finger at Yvonne.

  “What do you mean, my kind?”

  Just then, there was a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it.” I hurried out into the hallway.

  “Happy anniversary!” Kathy was holding a bunch of flowers. Peter was by her side, with a bottle of wine in his hand.

  “Kathy? Peter? What a lovely surprise.”

  Kathy gave me a knowing wink.

  By the time we walked into the dining room, Jack was all alone at the table. Our parents had obviously heard Kathy and Peter and made themselves scarce.

  “Happy anniversary, Jack,” Kathy said. “I hope you don’t mind us gatecrashing like this.”

  “We don’t mind at all,” I said. “Do we, Jack?”

  “Err, no.” Jack gave me an icy look. “Of course not.”

  One of the caterers popped his head around the door. “Are you ready to eat now?”

  “Yes, please,” I said. “It’ll be the four of us.”

  “Four?” He looked puzzled. “I understood it was six.”

  “No, just four, thanks.”

  It was Kathy’s turn to look confused. “Why did he think there were going to be six, Jill?”

  I shrugged. “Miscommunication, I guess.”

  “What shall I do with these?” Kathy held out the flowers.

  “Why don’t you put them in the vase Kathy bought us, Jill?” Jack said. “It’s lovely.”

  “Do you think so, Jack?” Kathy beamed. “I wasn’t sure if Jill would like it.”

  “Are you kidding? She said it was the nicest vase she’s ever seen, didn’t you, Jill?”

  “Err, yeah, it’s lovely. I’ll just go and get it.”

  Chapter 18

  “You can keep saying it until the cows come home, Jill, but I’m never going to believe you.”

  It was the next morning and Jack was putting out food for Buddy. He categorically refused to believe that I’d had no idea Kathy and Peter were going to call around the previous evening.

  “How could I possibly have known they were going to come over?” I said, all innocent-like. “I was just as surprised to see them as you were.”

  “Rubbish. I should have realised you were up to something when you were so upbeat earlier in the evening. I couldn’t work out why you weren’t in a foul mood because our parents were coming over. It was because you knew Kathy and Peter were going to turn up.”

  “That’s not true, but you have to admit it worked out for the best. You saw how your mother and mine were going at it, and we’d only been at the table for five minutes. Can you imagine what it would have been like if we’d had to endure another two hours of that?”

  “I’ll give you that much. I felt sure those two would have put aside their differences by now.”

  “You clearly don’t know my mother. No one can hold a grudge quite like her. All things considered, it turned out to be an enjoyable evening, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, it was,” Jack admitted. “I particularly liked the part where you had to scramble around in the spare room to get the vase Kathy gave us.”

  “Why did you tell her I loved it? We’ll have to keep it out on display now.”

  “Serves you right.”

  “Mummy!” Florence came rushing into the kitchen. “When can I go to Candlefield again?”

  “I’m not sure, darling, we’ll have to see.”

  “Wendy says she goes to Candlefield when it’s a full moon. What’s a full moon, Mummy?”

  “It’s when the moon is a circle.”

  “Why does Wendy go to Candlefield when the moon is a circle?”

  “Do you remember she told you that she can turn into a wolf?”

  “Yes. It’s scary, isn’t it? I’m glad I don’t turn into a wolf. I’d like to turn into a cute lamb, though.”

  “Wendy has to go to Candlefield when there’s a full moon because that’s when she turns into a wolf.”

  “Could I go and watch her do it?”

  “No, because it would be dangerous.”

  “Wendy’s my friend. She wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “She won’t while she’s a little girl, but she might when she’s a wolf. You wouldn’t like it if she ate you for her dinner, would you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t. That would be horrible.”

  ***

  I’d got into the habit of knocking on the door before I walked into the office.

  “Come in,” Mrs V shouted.

  “Aren’t you making a video today, Mrs V?”

  “I’m just about to record one, and I was going to ask you to help.”

  “Help how?”

  “I’ve just completed a cardigan and I thought you could model it.”

  “On camera?”

  “Yes. It’s one thing to see it laid out on a table, but it would be much better to see it on a model.”

  “Sorry, Mrs V, I’d really rather not.”

  “Why not? You’re an attractive young lady and very photogenic.”

  “Although that’s undoubtedly true, the answer is still no. You’ll have to find yourself another model.”

  Winky was on the window ledge, and there was a clicking sound coming from his direction. My curiosity was piqued, so I made my way across the office to get a closer look. It turned out that he was snapping photos with a small digital camera.

  “What are you up to, Winky?”

  “Do you have to creep up on me like that? I almost fell off the ledge.”

  “Sorry. What are you photographing?”

  “Just the cityscape.”

  “Why?”

  “I—err—I may hold an exhibition.”

  “Pull the other one.”

  “It’s true. I’ll call it a cat’s eye view of the city.”

  Before I could question him further, Mrs V came through to my office.

  “Jill, I have a policeman to see you. A Detective McDonald.”

  “Are you sure he isn’t a farmer?”

  Mrs V rolled her eyes, and rightly so. That quip was terrible even by my standards.

  What do you mean, what standards?

  McDonald was a giant of a man with a red moustache and beard. His Scottish accent was so thick, I struggled to make out what he was saying, but it quickly became clear that he was a member of the ‘policemen who hate PIs’ club.

  “I expect you to drop your investigation immediately,” he bellowed. “This is an extremely serious matter, involving three murders, potentially.”

  “It’s a pity you lot didn’t think that after the first or second murders.”

  “I wouldn’t know about that. I only transferred to Washbridge a few days ago. All of that is irrelevant. All you need to know is that I don’t want you anywhere near this case.”

  “Duly noted.” />
  “I understand from Don Keigh that you have the Scrabble tiles that were sent to NOCA.”

  “Would they be the same Scrabble tiles that your people dismissed as no more than a practical joke?”

  “Do you have them or not?”

  “I do, but they aren’t here.”

  “Where are they?”

  “At my house.”

  “I’m going to need you to bring them to the station.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “A-S-A-P.”

  “Absolutely. Message received and understood.”

  ***

  I’d been unable to find a phone number for Phil Black’s stepfather, so if I wanted to speak to him, I would have to go to France and do it face to face. I couldn’t even be sure the address that Mrs V had found was still his current place of residence, but in the absence of any other information, I would have to check it out.

  There simply wasn’t time to take a plane, so I would have to resort to magic again. After using the map on my phone to locate the town, I prepared to cast the spell. This journey would be the furthest I’d ever magicked myself and I was a little nervous; I’d have to make sure I gave it my full focus.

  I’d just closed my eyes when Winky piped up, “What are you doing?”

  “Magicking myself to France.”

  “France? Ooh la la. Can I come with you, s’il vous plaît?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Go on. I’ve never been to France.”

  “You’ve always said that you don’t like being magicked to places because it makes you nauseous.”

  “Yeah, but for a trip to France, it would be worth it.”

  “Sorry, Winky, but this is strictly business. I can’t have you tagging along. You’d be a distraction.”

  “Go on. You won’t even know I’m there.”

  “No, sorry.”

  “You’re so mean.”

  I tuned out his whinging, closed my eyes and cast the spell.

  The temperature in Avignon was at least five degrees warmer than in Washbridge. From what little I could see of it, Avignon looked like a beautiful place. I would have loved to look around, maybe even had a dance on the bridge, but I had work to do.

  The address Mrs V had found was a house in the ancient town centre. The woman who answered the door said something in French that I didn’t understand. Fortunately, I was able to call upon the ‘translate’ spell, which allowed me to speak English, and have the person I was talking to hear my words in their own language. Likewise, whatever they said would be translated into English for me.