by Adele Abbott
My silent friend had other ideas, though, and she signalled me to go over to the desk.
Oh bum! Were there security cameras upstairs? Had she seen me take the book from the shelf?
She wrote on the notepad and passed it across the desk to me:
Couldn’t you find the book you were looking for?
I wrote in reply:
I did find it thanks, but I realised that I’ve already read it. Thank you for your help, anyway.
Before she could write any more messages, I hurried out of the library.
***
When I got back to the office, Ramona had left.
“How did the video shoot go, Mrs V?”
“Excellent, Jill. Ramona is a natural. You should have seen her walking up and down the office in my cardigan. It was like she was on the catwalk in Milan.”
“I must admit I thought it was a little cheeky of you to approach someone in the street like that and ask them to model for you.”
“Ramona was delighted to have the opportunity to take her first step on the ladder to a modelling career.”
“Err, right.”
“In fact, she asked if she could do some more modelling for me. She even suggested that her boyfriend might be interested too.”
“That’s great. Have you uploaded the video yet?”
“No, but I was just about to. The Yarnies won’t know what’s hit them.”
Winky was sitting on the sofa, talking on his phone.
“It’s like I told you, Ricky,” he said. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Who are you going to trust, me or some chancer?”
Winky didn’t notice me creep up behind him until I’d snatched the phone from his hand.
“What do you think you’re doing? Give that back!”
“I just need to check something.”
“I was talking to someone.”
“Ricky? I’m sorry, but Winky has been called away. He says he’ll call you back later. Okay, bye.”
“How dare you!” Winky was spitting feathers. “That was an important business call.”
He followed me to my desk and tried to grab the phone back, but I held him at bay while I flicked through the photo gallery until I found what I was looking for.
“Just as I thought. You, sir, are beyond despicable.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about these photos.” I turned the phone around to show him.
“What about them? They’re my cityscape photos for my exhibition.”
“Rubbish. There is no exhibition, cityscape or otherwise. You were taking photos of pigeons.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why would I want a photo of a pigeon?”
“The game’s up, Winky. I know you’re the one behind the Pigeon Love app. That’s what you were doing the other day when I caught you whooping it up under the sofa. You were counting the number of sign-ups you’d had.”
“I—err—don’t—err—”
“There’s no point in denying it. I have all the evidence I need.”
“So what if I run Pigeon Love? I’m providing a valuable service to lonely heart pigeons.”
“Fleecing them, more like. They’re never going to get a date through your app. You totally overestimated how many female pigeons would sign up, didn’t you? When you realised how few there were, the right thing to do would have been to give refunds to those males who had already signed up, but instead, you added a load of false female profiles, and then tried desperately to get some photos to accompany them. When I saw you out on the ledge the other day, you were trying to snap photos of lady pigeons, weren’t you?”
“No comment.”
“Just wait until I tell Bobby and Bertie, and they tell their friends. I’m sure they’ll all want to pay you a visit.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Wanna bet? I owe it to Bobby and Bertie.”
“There must be another way. How about I share the profits with you? I’ll give you twenty percent.”
“No, thank you. I don’t want any of your ill-gotten gains.”
“Forty per cent.”
“No. You have to refund all the payments and close down the app.”
“I can’t do that. It’ll cost me a fortune.”
“I’d better have a word with Bobby and Bertie, then.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it. I’ll refund everybody’s money.”
“And close down the app?”
“Yes. Motherhood has turned you into a hard woman, Jill.”
Chapter 21
It was probably fair to say that I wasn’t Winky’s favourite person. He’d just spent the last half hour giving me dirty looks, and mumbling under his breath about how terrible his life was. Needless to say, none of this had any effect on me. He deserved everything he got. I thought I’d grown immune to his underhanded schemes, but this latest one was particularly despicable. How could he take money under false pretences from his own friends? It really was beyond the pale.
My phone rang.
“Jill, it’s Mrs Flattery, Margaret Plant’s housekeeper.”
“Hi.”
“Margaret has just finished work for the day. She asked me to give you a call and said I should apologise on her behalf that she wasn’t able to see you when you came around earlier.”
“That’s okay. I understand.”
“She’s feeling rather tired now and is going to have a lie down, but she wondered if you could pop over to see her in the morning? She suggested ten o’clock.”
“That’ll be fine. Tell Margaret I’ll see her then, and thanks for calling.”
When I’d left the house that morning, I’d totally forgotten about my plans to go to Freddie Primrose’s funeral in the afternoon. Consequently, the white top and green skirt I was wearing weren’t exactly appropriate attire. I could have magicked myself back to the house and got changed, but that would have involved too much faffing around. Instead, I used magic to change the colour of my top and skirt to black.
Winky looked up from his moaning and did a double take.
“What just happened to your clothes?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be colour blind?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I may only have one eye, but I can tell the difference between green and white, and black. You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
“That’s exactly where I am going.”
“Before you leave, are you sure you won’t reconsider my offer to share profits on the pigeon app? I’m prepared to make it a fifty-fifty split.”
“Definitely not, and you’d better start issuing those refunds otherwise I’ll tell Bobby and Bertie everything.”
When I went through to the outer office, Mrs V did a similar double take.
“You weren’t wearing those clothes earlier, were you, Jill?”
“Err, no. I’m going to a funeral.”
“Oh dear. A relative? Friend?”
“No, it’s no one I know. It’s related to the clown case I’m working on.”
“Right. I had no idea you kept a change of clothes in your office.”
“Oh yes. Just for occasions such as this.”
“I’ve never seen them. Where do you keep them?”
I glanced at my watch. “Is that the time? Sorry, Mrs V, I really do have to go, or I’ll be late.
***
I’d changed the colour of my clothes so that I wouldn’t look conspicuous at the funeral.
Epic fail.
How could I be expected to know that all those attending would be dressed in clown costume? Every single one of them! Even the pallbearers, who included both Don Keigh and Trevor Hee. And, instead of a conventional hearse, the coffin arrived in a clown’s car, complete with wobbly wheels and an exhaust pipe that blew bubbles. I could have magicked myself a clown’s outfit, but just the thought of that gave me the creeps. Instead, I waited outside the church and then kept my distance from the gravesi
de. I wasn’t even sure what I was hoping to see, but I had no other leads to pursue.
Freddie Primrose had clearly been popular because there were dozens of people in attendance. I was leaning against a tree, trying to stay out of sight, when someone came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder, making me jump.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. In keeping with the other attendees, the woman was dressed as a clown: she had bright pink hair, an orange nose, and she was wearing a red and green checked baggy jacket and trousers. “Didn’t you get the note?”
“What note?”
“That Freddie had requested everyone dress in clown costume for his funeral.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I must admit I feel a little silly dressed like this. I’m Freddie’s friend, Matilda.”
“I’m Jill.”
“Are you family, Jill?”
“No. Actually, I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh? Why are you here?”
“I’ve been hired by Don Keigh, the head of NOCA, to investigate the spate of deaths that have occurred during committee meetings. Including Freddie’s.”
“But my understanding was that he died of natural causes.”
“More than likely, but Don just wants to be absolutely sure there was no foul play. It’s just a formality for insurance purposes really.”
“I see.”
“There’s a lot of people here today, Matilda.”
“I’m not surprised. Freddie was a very popular person, inside the clown community and beyond. Did you know he was a member of the Washbridge Dance Club?”
“I didn’t, no.”
“That’s where we met. In fact, he and I won the cup for the waltz last year. I still can’t believe he’s gone. Did you ever catch his clown act, Jill?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t.”
“It was hilarious. The things he could do with a dickie bow boggled the mind.” She glanced over to the graveside where the service had now finished, and people were beginning to drift away. “I’m going to go and offer my condolences to Petunia.”
“Freddie’s widow?”
“That’s right. Do you want to join me, Jill?”
“I don’t think it would be appropriate. I wonder, though, if you might do me a favour.”
“What’s that?”
“Would you mind asking Petunia if she’d be willing to speak to me.”
“I doubt she’ll be up to that.”
“I don’t mean today. Maybe in a few days’ time.” I took out one of my business cards and handed it to her. “Would you give her this?”
“Okay, but I don’t know if it will do any good.”
“I understand. Thanks very much. I really appreciate it.”
I was just about to walk through the cemetery gates when someone called my name. I turned around to see a sight that was enough to send a shiver down my spine: A clown running towards me. The only reason I didn’t turn and run was because I recognised Don Keigh.
“Jill, I thought it was you. Why didn’t you come and join the service?”
“I thought it best to keep my distance, and besides, I’m not really dressed for the occasion.”
“Have the police been to see you?”
“Yeah, Archie McDonald paid me a visit, and told me to butt out of the investigation.”
“How come you’re here today, then? Aren’t you scared you’ll get in trouble?”
“Annoying the police is an occupational hazard. I’ll stay on the case until you tell me otherwise.”
“That’s good to hear because I have no faith in them. They weren’t interested until Freddie died. Did they ask you about the Scrabble tiles?”
“Yeah, I promised to let him have them. It’s a good job you reminded me because I’d forgotten all about that. What are your plans for NOCA now, Don?”
“I’m not sure. Trevor has insisted we hold an emergency meeting this Sunday.”
“Isn’t that tempting fate?”
“It’s not going to be the full committee, just Trevor and me. We’re going to hammer out where we go from here.”
***
As I was driving into Middle Tweaking, I noticed two figures walking along the side of the road, arm in arm. As I drove past them, I realised that it was the vicar and Marjorie Stock. It appeared that Barbara Babble, the village gossip, had been correct. Or at least fifty percent correct because according to her the Stock sisters were both romantically involved with the vicar.
When I walked into the house, Jack gave me a puzzled look.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“That’s not the outfit you were wearing when you left this morning.”
Before I could respond, Florence came running downstairs. “Mummy, you’re home!” She stopped dead in her tracks and looked me up and down. “Why are you wearing black?”
“I had to use magic to change the colour of my outfit.” I quickly reversed the spell. “Is that better?”
“Yes, I like the green and white.” Florence gave me a hug and a kiss. “Can I learn that spell, Mummy? I want to change the colour of my clothes.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Please! Can I learn it instead of the ‘propel’ spell?”
“No, darling. I’ll show you how to change the colour of your clothes another week.”
“Okay, and then can I change the colour of my clothes while I’m at school?”
“No, you can’t. You know the rules. You mustn’t use magic when there are humans around.”
“Apart from Daddy.”
“That’s right. Apart from Daddy.”
“Why aren’t there more sups in my school, Mummy?”
“Because we live in the human world. If we lived in Candlefield, everyone there would be a sup.”
“Why don’t we go and live in Candlefield, then?”
“What about Daddy? He couldn’t come with us.”
“Oh yes. I’d forgotten about Daddy. Let’s stay here, then. I’m going to go and play in my bedroom.” She dashed upstairs.
“Phew!” Jack pretended to mop his brow. “I thought for a minute she was going to say that she’d leave me behind.”
“She’d never do that. She loves you too much. Hey, you’ll never guess who I saw when I was driving into the village just now.”
“Not more vampires, attacking people, I hope.”
“No. I saw Marjorie Stock, arm in arm with the vicar.”
“The gossip was true, then?”
“Could be. You haven’t forgotten that I’m going out after dinner tonight, have you?”
“No. What time are you going?”
“I told Mad and Brad that I’d get to the shop about seven.”
“How long are you likely to be gone?”
“I’ve no idea. It all depends what happens. I’m not even sure that the roof sprites are responsible for the thefts, so this could turn out to be a complete waste of time. Even if it is them, there’s no guarantee they’ll turn up tonight.”
“You should take a book with you.”
“If I do that, I’m guaranteed to fall asleep.”
“Will you be able to have a lie-in tomorrow?”
“No chance, I’m afraid. All the cases I’m working on seem to be coming to a head at the same time.” I glanced around. “Where did you put those Scrabble tiles? I have to let Big Mac have them before he locks me up.”
“They’re on the coffee table. I managed to come up with two more words.”
“Oh?” I walked through to the lounge. “Green and Yellow? Is that it?”
“They use all the letters except the ‘V’. Are you impressed?”
“Not really.”
“It could be a clue.”
“Right. I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open for a green and yellow man.” I picked up the tiles and put them back into the envelope.
***
I arrived at Vinyl Alley just before seven o’clock. Mad had obviously been
watching for me because by the time I got to the door, she was already unlocking it.
“Come in, Jill. Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?”
“Of course not.”
“It doesn’t seem right. Won’t you at least let me stay with you?”
“No, I’d rather handle this myself.”
“Fair enough. I’ve put some stuff out for you behind the counter. Come and see.”
“A sleeping bag?”
“It’s Brad’s.”
“I’d better not climb inside that or I’ll fall asleep.”
“We thought it would be more comfortable to sit on than the floor. There are biscuits, crisps and a can of pop too. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s great.”
“You’ll call me if anything happens, won’t you?”
“Yeah, but don’t stay up because there’s no guarantee they’ll even show up.”
“Okay, thanks, Jill. We owe you one for this, big time.”
“You certainly do.”
After Mad had left, I settled down behind the counter on the sleeping bag. I’d not long since eaten dinner, so I wasn’t hungry, but I did have a drink. Then I waited.
And waited some more.
Every minute seemed to last a lifetime. The only sounds I heard, were the occasional passer-by on the street outside, and the plop, plop, plop of water as it dripped into the bucket.
At some point, I must have nodded off because I woke up with a start. I glanced at my watch; it was one-fifteen. Had I heard something, or had it just been part of my dream? I wasn’t sure, but then I definitely heard a noise. Something or someone was in the shop with me.
I crept slowly out from behind the counter to get a better view. Hanging from the ceiling, directly above the bucket, was a small creature. Dressed in blue dungarees and wearing bright red shoes, it was remarkably cute. His long hair was as white as snow. This must be a roof sprite.