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

by Adele Abbott

  The spare bedroom was going to be the biggest challenge. It was full of boxes of all shapes and sizes. I had no idea how long Trevor’s meeting was likely to last, but I was certain I wouldn’t have time to check every box. I would need to be selective, so I picked out those boxes which weren’t sealed, on the assumption that he might have accessed their contents recently.

  I drew a blank with the first four boxes. Why did people insist on holding onto so much rubbish? When I opened the next box, there was a clown’s outfit on top. Initially, I assumed it must be one of Trevor’s old costumes, but when I took it out and held it up, I could see the green and yellow checked garment had been made for someone much taller. As I dug deeper into the box, I uncovered all manner of clown paraphernalia: wigs, noses, bow ties etc. They had all obviously had plenty of wear. Underneath those, was another clown outfit—a different design, but the same two colours: green and yellow. After putting everything back, I started on the box next to it. This one was full of old photo albums. The first one I looked at was full of images of a young couple with a baby. The first few pages showed the proud parents with their newborn, and then, over the course of the album, the baby in the photos grew into a toddler. The next album was more of the same, but these photos had clearly been taken some years later because the child now looked to be about four or five years old. In one of those photos, the young boy was standing next to a clown, who was wearing the yellow and green checked costume that I’d seen in the other box. I continued to flick through the albums, witnessing the boy growing older in each one. After the boy reached eight or nine years of age, his mother no longer appeared in the photos—it was just him and his father.

  But it was only when the boy turned into a teenager and his father grew older that it dawned on me. I knew both of them.

  ***

  Much as I hated to admit it, Jack had been right about the Scrabble tiles. I’d been too focussed on the tiles that spelled the word revenge. As my brilliant husband had pointed out, if you used the rest of the tiles, you could spell out the words yellow and green.

  The yellow and green clown outfits in the spare bedroom had not belonged to Trevor Hee, but to his father, Andrew Clowne. The young boy in the photo standing next to the clown was Trevor; the clown was his father.

  There was now little doubt that Trevor was behind the deaths at NOCA, but how had he done it? I couldn’t afford to dwell on that now because Trevor and Don were at Chuckle House, and I had a horrible feeling that Trevor had a similar fate planned for Don. There was no time to lose, so I magicked myself over there.

  The female clown behind the reception desk stared at me, clearly puzzled. “Where did you come from?”

  “Through the door.”

  “No, you didn’t. I would have seen you.”

  “How else do you think I got here? Do you think I magicked myself here out of thin air?”

  “I—err—what do you want, anyway?”

  “Where are Don Keigh and Trevor Hee?”

  “They gave strict instructions that they weren’t to be disturbed.”

  “Are they upstairs in the meeting room?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Never mind.” I didn’t bother with the Chucklevator. Instead, I rushed up the stairs, down the corridor and charged into the meeting room, to find Don Keigh lying on the floor; Trevor was kneeling over him with a syringe in his hand.

  “Help me, Jill!” Don yelled. “He’s gone crazy!”

  “Get back, Jill!” Trevor shouted.

  “Sorry, Trevor, but I can’t do that.” I cast the ‘power’ spell, took hold of him and threw him across the room. Don took his opportunity to scramble away towards the door.

  Trevor hadn’t finished yet. He got to his feet and started towards me, the syringe still in his hand. He had a manic look on his face.

  “Put the syringe down, Trevor,” I said.

  “They killed him, Jill. All of them.”

  “I assume you’re talking about your father, Andrew Clowne?”

  “You’re Andrew’s son?” Don said, incredulously.

  Ignoring Don, Trevor directed his words to me. “My father was the best clown this country has ever known. He had more talent in his little finger than the rest of the NOCA committee members put together, but look at the way they treated him.”

  “He stole money from NOCA,” I said.

  “It was only ever intended as a loan. He would have paid it back.”

  “He had no intention of paying it back. Have you forgotten that he killed Mr Bobo to try and cover his tracks?”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute.” Trevor shook his head. “My father would never do anything like that.” As he spoke, he was getting closer and closer to me. “I’m sorry you had to be here, Jill. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Trevor, because that’s not going to happen.” I grabbed his arm and shook the syringe out of his hand, threw him to the floor, and shouted to Don, “Get out of here. Call the police!”

  Don didn’t move; he seemed paralysed with fear.

  “Don! Now! Move!”

  This time, he snapped out of it, and rushed out of the door. As soon as he’d gone, I used magic to produce a couple of lengths of rope with which I tied Trevor’s hands and feet.

  Lying on the floor, all the fight had gone out of him. “You should have let me kill him, Jill, just like he killed my father.”

  “No one killed your father, Trevor. He died of natural causes.”

  “He would never have had a heart attack if he hadn’t been sent to prison. He couldn’t handle it in there. I went to see him a few days before he died, and it was clear that the stress was too much for him. It was the NOCA committee that killed him, just as surely as if they’d put a knife through his heart.”

  “I assume that’s when you decided to take your revenge.”

  “I was at medical school, training to be a doctor when my father was sent to prison. I wanted to give it up there and then, but he pleaded with me to stay the course. I did as he asked, but when he died, I couldn’t see the point anymore. I left university, came back home, and began to hone my clown act. I’d watched my father for years, so I soon got up to speed. After a year on the circuit, I applied to NOCA. They were only too keen to bring in some young blood.”

  “Didn’t they realise you were Andrew’s son?”

  “Of course not. They didn’t care about him or his family. They only ever saw the clown, not the man.”

  Chapter 26

  It was Monday morning and Florence was upstairs getting ready for school.

  “I imagine you’ll be in the new guy’s good books now,” Jack said.

  “Are you kidding? Detective Archie McDonald is just like every other policeman I’ve ever had to deal with, and I include you in that list.”

  “Me? You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m deadly serious. When you first moved to Washbridge you were a real pain in the backside.”

  “But you fancied me, anyway.” He grinned.

  “I barely noticed you. If I remember rightly, you were the one who chased after me.”

  “Funny you should say that because Kathy told me you had the hots for me from day one.”

  “You shouldn’t believe anything my sister says. Anyway, like I was saying, Big Mac is just as bad as you, Leo Riley and Sushi. Why do you think I was late for dinner last night? Because that idiot kept me at the station for two hours even though Trevor Hee had confessed. If I hadn’t turned up at Chuckle House when I did, Don Keigh would have been his fourth victim. But did I get any thanks from Big Mac? Did I heck. He was too busy having a go at me because I hadn’t kept my nose out like he’d told me to.”

  “If you’d just listened to me, Jill, you’d have solved the case even sooner.”

  “Just because you came up with two words from the Scrabble tiles doesn’t mean you solved the case. Those two words didn’t mean a thing until I saw Andrew Clowne’s o
ld costumes and photos. Until then I had no idea that green and yellow were his trademark colours.”

  “And now his son is going to follow him to prison.”

  “I can’t help but feel sorry for Trevor. His mother died when he was just a kid; after that it was his father who brought him up. Trevor clearly adored his father, so when he was sent to prison, his world collapsed. He simply couldn’t bring himself to accept that his father was actually guilty of the crimes he’d been convicted of. And later when his father died in prison, Trevor totally lost the plot.”

  “Do you know how he killed his victims?”

  “I have no idea, but I think it’s safe to assume that his training as a doctor helped in that regard. He’d manipulated events so that he got to spend time with all three of his victims before the fateful NOCA committee meetings. My guess is that he slipped them a drug of some kind. I’ve no doubt the police will want to exhume the bodies of the three clowns to verify that.”

  Jack’s phone beeped with a message. “It’s from Walter. He’s sent the initial results from the DNA testing.”

  “Go on, then, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Here.” He handed me his phone. “This will probably make more sense to you than it does to me.”

  I quickly read through the message. Most of it was gobbledygook, but it did tell me the main thing I needed to know.

  I gave Phil Black a call. “Phil, it’s Jill. I’m sorry to ring you so early.”

  “That’s okay. Do you have news for me?”

  “Yes, but I’d prefer not to discuss it over the phone. Can you call into my office this morning? Say, ten o’clock?”

  “Sure. I’ll be there.”

  “Good news?” Jack said.

  “I think so, but I’ll have to update you tonight because I’m running late.”

  “Don’t forget I’m at the dentist later, but I’ll be done in time to pick Florence up.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s your filling today, isn’t it?” I did my impression of a dentist’s drill. “Have fun.”

  ***

  I’d just got into the car and was about to drive off when I spotted two vampires on the opposite side of the road: a man and a young boy. The two of them were walking into the village, and the young boy was drinking from a bottle of synthetic blood.

  Just how blatant could you be? Fortunately, there were no other villagers around.

  I got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and stormed across the road. “Hey, you!” I shouted.

  “Yes?” The man seemed surprised to see me.

  “What do you think you’re playing at?”

  “We’ve just been for a walk, and we’re on our way back to the hotel. Why?”

  “Why? Are you serious?” I grabbed the bottle from the boy’s hand. “Why would you let him drink this in public?” I turned the bottle upside down and poured the contents onto the ground.

  “Dad, she threw my pop away.” The boy looked on the verge of tears.

  “Why did you do that?” the man shouted.

  “Take a wild guess. Why would you let him drink synthetic blood in the village?”

  “That wasn’t synthetic blood. That was cherry cola. I bought it from the village shop before we went for our walk.”

  “Don’t lie to me. Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Check the label for yourself.”

  I turned the bottle around, and sure enough, the label read cherry cola.

  “Yes, but—err—you could have used an empty cherry cola bottle and put synthetic blood in it.”

  “We could have, but we didn’t. Taste it if you don’t believe me.”

  I rubbed my finger around the rim of the bottle, put it to my tongue, and sure enough it was cherry cola.

  “Err, right. Sorry.” I handed the empty bottle back to the man.

  “What about my cherry cola?” the kid said.

  “Yeah, what about his cherry cola?” his father demanded.

  “I—err—” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a five-pound note. “Sorry, this is all I have. I haven’t got any change.”

  “That’ll do.” He snatched it from me. “Come on, son, let’s get away from this crazy witch.”

  And with that, the two of them disappeared in the direction of Tweaking Stores.

  This was all Grandma’s fault.

  ***

  When I arrived at work, the outer office was bustling with young women, one of whom was Ramona. Mrs V was behind the desk chatting to them, and she clearly hadn’t noticed my arrival.

  “Good morning, Mrs V. You have an office full today.”

  “These are all friends of Ramona. They’ve been kind enough to agree to model my giant scarf. You remember the one, don’t you, Jill? The one I knitted for charity?”

  “Err—I think so, but then you knit so many.”

  “Ladies!” Mrs V called them to attention. “Please put on the scarf.”

  They picked up the huge scarf, and one by one wrapped it around their necks. It was to be hoped that one of them didn’t trip because if that happened, they would all end up on the floor.

  “Oh, yes, I remember it now. I’d better leave you to make your video.”

  Next door, Bobby and Bertie were on the window ledge, cooing away merrily to each other.

  “Good morning, Jill,” Bobby shouted.

  “Morning, Jill.” Bertie waved a wing.

  “You two are looking very chipper.”

  “We’ve done it,” Bertie said. “We’ve found girlfriends.”

  “That’s great. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you.”

  “We were in the park yesterday, under the bench, the one near the fountain. Do you know it?”

  “Err, yeah, I think I know the one you mean.”

  “We were nibbling on a burger bun when we bumped into two lovely ladies—sisters, actually. We got chatting to them and they’ve agreed to go out with us on a double date tomorrow. Their names are Bianca and Briana.”

  “Wow, what a lot of ‘B’s.”

  “Where?” Bobby flinched.

  “I hate bees,” Bertie said.

  “No, I don’t mean bumblebees. I meant ‘B’, as in your names: Bobby, Bertie, Bianca and Briana. All the ‘B’s.”

  “Oh yes, of course.” Bobby laughed. “It hadn’t occurred to me.”

  “Well, good luck with your double date, boys. I hope it goes well.”

  “Thanks, Jill.”

  And off they flew.

  ***

  Phil Black was as pale as a sheet when he walked into my office.

  “I’ve been on tenterhooks ever since you called, Jill. What have you found out? Is it good news or bad?”

  “What I’m about to tell you is going to come as a shock, so I think you should sit down first.”

  “Okay.” He practically flung himself into the chair. “Tell me, please.”

  “Liam isn’t dead.”

  It took a moment or two for my words to register.

  “What do you mean, he isn’t dead? Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. I’ve spoken to him.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Living in Bristol. He goes by the name of Mila now.”

  “Bristol? Are you sure it’s him?”

  “Pretty much. I managed to get hold of a glass that he’d drunk from. And when you and I met in Coffee Animal, I took the liberty of taking the coffee cup that you’d used. I had them both analysed for DNA.”

  “You knew about Liam when I met you in the coffee shop? Why didn’t you say anything then?”

  “Because I needed to be sure it was him first. I got the report back this morning, and there’s now no doubt that the two of you share the same mother.”

  “If he’s in Bristol, who is he living with?”

  “Your stepfather.”

  “I’m sorry, Jill, I don’t understand any of this. How can he be with my stepfather?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, but I do have a theor
y about what happened if you want to hear it.”

  “I do.”

  “I’m pretty sure your stepfather was seeing someone else while he was still living with your mother, you and Liam.”

  “Having an affair, you mean?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I believe he’d decided to make a new life with his new woman, but he didn’t want to leave Liam behind. My guess is that he didn’t trust the courts to award him custody, so he came up with a plan to make sure he wouldn’t lose him.”

  “A plan to snatch Liam? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “More or less, although I don’t think he was the one who physically took Liam. I think his lady friend probably did that.”

  “How?”

  “Tell me again what your parents claim happened on the morning that Liam went missing.”

  “They were both in bed, having a lie-in. My stepfather got up to go to the loo, and he saw Liam who told him that I was taking him fishing.”

  “So, your mother never actually saw Liam?”

  “No. Just my stepfather.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Are you saying he was lying? Don’t you think my stepfather saw Liam?”

  “I’m sure he saw him, but it was to hand him over to his lady friend.”

  “But Liam knew not to talk to strangers.”

  “He wouldn’t have seen the woman in that light. Not if his own father had told him it was okay. Your stepfather probably told Liam he’d be following them shortly.”

  “Where did she take him?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know the three of them eventually settled in France.”

  “France? Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I visited the house where they used to live. Liam is bilingual now.”

  “Really? My little brother, bilingual? Wow. How is he?”