Witches' Diaries

by Morgana Best

  “Then that’s not so strange,” I said. “Maybe she bought a bunch from somewhere and liked the look of them.”

  “Or maybe she’s a witch,” Aunt Agnes said.

  “There is that too,” I admitted.

  “You run along and have some fun, and we’ll go through the diaries.” With that, Aunt Agnes hung up.

  “I heard all that ,given your phone was on loud,” Linda said. “That is strange.”

  “It’s all strange,” I said. “I need cake.”

  Soon, Linda and I were sitting in a little café not far from the water, enjoying the sea breeze, not far from where the dolphin and whale watching boats were moored,.

  “Let’s order now,” I said. “I’m starving. I didn’t have time for breakfast. Do you know what you’d like?”

  “I’ll have a look in the cake fridge. I’ll be right back.”

  Linda returned and said she would like Tiramisu. I went over to look at the cake selection and ordered a slice of mango and passionfruit baked cheesecake as well as the Tiramisu for Linda. I ordered a caramel almond latte for myself and a regular latte for Linda.

  “I asked for the cakes to be brought right away before the coffees,” I told her when I returned to the table.

  It wasn’t long before a waitress deposited the cakes in front of us. I ate half my cake before I remembered the real estate agent. “Linda, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Something really strange happened yesterday.”

  Linda’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Something else strange?” She lowered her voice and whispered, “You mean, apart from the murder?”

  I nodded. “Yes, an obnoxious man came to the door and said he had been secretly speaking with Aunt Agnes about selling the manor.”

  Linda gasped. “You can’t be serious!”

  I pushed on. “Aunt Agnes said she told him she’d think about it but said that she really had no intention of selling. Besides, she has to get Dorothy’s and Maude’s permission, and they’ll never give it.”

  “Are you sure?” Linda asked me.

  “I’m absolutely certain. Apparently, the council has rezoned the area around Mugwort Manor.”

  Linda nodded. “Yes, it’s been rezoned for development.”

  “This awful man has wealthy clients who want to build lots of townhouses on the land.”

  “I know exactly who you’re talking about,” Linda said. “He’s a new real estate agent in town. He moved here from the Gold Coast only recently, and he’s a real hustler. His name is Horrors.”

  “Horace?”

  Linda chuckled. “Horace Smythe, but all the other real estate agents in town call him Horrors because he’s so horrible.”

  I chuckled too. “It was a little unnerving to hear that Aunt Agnes had agreed to think it over. What’s more, he seems extremely pushy.”

  “He is extremely pushy, but if your other two aunts won’t agree to sell, then Agnes can’t. I hope that puts your mind at rest.”

  “It does, but…” My voice trailed away.

  Linda shot me a sharp look. “Do you think there’s more to it?” she asked.

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe he’s working for The Other, using it as an excuse to snoop around and turn up at odd hours.”

  Linda’s face went white. “Oh gosh, I hope you’re not right.”

  I hurried to reassure her. “I’m sure he isn’t, but the aunts and I are a bit paranoid about The Other.”

  “Who isn’t?” Linda said with a shudder.

  The waitress set our coffees on the table. I thanked her and jumped when my phone rang. I didn’t recognise the caller ID.

  “Hello?” I said tentatively.

  “I’ve been fingerprinted already, so you can come back and collect us in exactly ten minutes,” Moxie Maisie said in a shrill voice.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but she had already hung up. The phone rang again. I picked it up, thinking it was Moxie Maisie barking out more orders. “Now see here,” I began, but Aunt Agnes cut me off.

  “Get back here as soon as you can, Valkyrie. You won’t believe what we found in the diaries!”

  Chapter 9

  It took me a while to get home, much to my irritation. Moxie Maisie insisted that Linda and I drive them to the supermarket and then to various shops. All the while, Aunt Agnes texted me constantly to come back. The suspense was unbearable.

  Even when I got home, I couldn’t find out what Aunt Agnes had to tell me until Linda and I helped the guests to the cottages with all their shopping.

  “I’ll have to go to work now, Pepper,” Linda said. “I have a few house inspections coming up. Let me know what the big secret is as soon as you find out, won’t you?”

  I promised I would. I thanked her and then headed for the manor.

  I expected to find the aunts in the kitchen, but they weren’t there. I looked in the living room—no sign. I called out, but there was no response. I was walking upstairs when the three hurried down the stairs to meet me.

  “Where have you been, Valkyrie?” Aunt Agnes asked. “The suspense has been killing us!”

  “Killing you!” I said. “I had to drive that dreadful woman to a whole bunch of different shops. She’s very demanding, you know. What have you found out?”

  “Let’s all sit in the kitchen and have a glass of Witches’ Brew, and I’ll tell you everything,” Aunt Agnes said. She strode towards the kitchen.

  I beat her to it and was clutching a bottle of Witches’ Brew when the aunts walked in the room. “Out with it please, Aunt Agnes,” I said. “What is so important?”

  “I think we know who the murderer is.”

  I sat down and filled my glass with Witches’ Brew and then passed the bottle to Aunt Maude who was sitting next to me. Any sense of etiquette had left me. I was beginning to get a little irritated. “Aunt Agnes, I will go completely stark raving mad unless you tell me what you found out.”

  Aunt Agnes looked most put out. “Demelza is the murderer.”

  I gasped. “Does Moxie Maisie blame her mother for murdering Priscilla? And why would Demelza murder her own mother?”

  Aunt Agnes tapped her chin. “Moxie Maisie wrote the diaries before the murder, of course, so she couldn’t accuse anybody of murdering Priscilla, since it hadn’t happened yet.”

  “Then exactly what does Moxie Maisie say in the diaries?” I prompted her.

  “She details arguments that Priscilla had with plenty of people, shopkeepers, neighbours, people in the community. In fact, the list is endless. However, she does single out Demelza.”

  “It’s not just written in one place,” Aunt Maude said. “Agnes is giving the wrong impression. The comments are spread out over many pages.”

  “Maude might be right for once,” Aunt Agnes said in a rare show of agreement. “The relationship between Demelza and Priscilla is spread out over several volumes.”

  “I assume it wasn’t a happy one,” I said.

  Aunt Agnes nodded. “Moxie Maisie said that Demelza greatly resented her mother. Her mother wanted her to be glamorous, but she wasn’t interested in that type of life, so her mother disinherited her.”

  “We knew that already,” I pointed out.

  “But we didn’t know the level of resentment that Demelza apparently held towards her mother,” Aunt Agnes told me. “Moxie Maisie listed threats, threats that Demelza made against Priscilla.”

  “Did she threaten to murder her?”

  “She didn’t go as far as that,” Aunt Agnes said, “but if Moxie Maisie can be believed, there was a huge amount of vitriol levelled at Priscilla from Demelza.”

  “Were there any specific examples?” I asked.

  The aunts nodded. “Plenty of examples,” Aunt Dorothy said. “Screaming matches between the two of them, huge insults hurled at each other. Horrible, hateful things said to each other.”

  “Demelza cleaned the toilet with Priscilla’s toothbrush,” Aunt Maude added.

  I shuddered. �
��Eww!”

  Aunt Dorothy nodded. “I forgot to mention that Demelza dropped her toenail clippings into a stew and gave it to Priscilla.”

  I was horrified. “Please don’t tell me any more examples!”

  “She put prawns in Priscilla’s curtain rods, and Priscilla couldn’t figure out where the smell was coming from,” Aunt Agnes continued, disregarding my plea.

  I covered my ears, but they spoke more loudly.

  “She put hair removal cream in Priscilla’s shampoo,” Maude added. “And then there was the ad in the personal column of the local newspaper saying Priscilla was a call girl offering reduced rates.”

  “And it gave her address!” Dorothy shrieked.

  Aunt Agnes nodded. “And speaking of ads, Demelza put an ad in an online car sales site advertising Priscilla’s luxury car very cheaply.”

  “Even worse, Demelza sent ten pizzas at a time to be delivered cash on delivery to her mother,” Aunt Maude said.

  “How is that worse?” Aunt Agnes asked her.

  Aunt Maude shrugged. “She did it on a frequent basis.”

  “And this had all been going on for years,” Aunt Agnes said with a shake of her head. “Apparently, Priscilla was always controlling and mean to Demelza. She constantly berated her and gave her a terrible inferiority complex. She cut her out of the will.”

  “That’s right. She cut her out of the will when she married Eli.”

  Aunt Agnes shook her head. “It happened before that. What you don’t know is that Demelza had Moxie Maisie out of wedlock. Demelza had already been disinherited at that point. When Priscilla saw Moxie Maisie perform on TV, she got back in contact with Demelza and took a great interest in Moxie Maisie, but things turned very sour when Demelza wanted to marry Elie.”

  I rubbed my temples. “Okay, now I’m confused. I knew Eli was Moxie Maisie’s stepfather, but I assumed he and Demelza married years ago.”

  Aunt Dorothy shook her head. “Oh no. They only married five years ago. The marriage didn’t last long, but they stayed friends.”

  “They divorced after a year,” Aunt Maude added.

  “Not only are there lots of instances of what Demelza did to Priscilla, there are also lots of instances of all the terrible things Priscilla did to Demelza,” Aunt Maude said. “I’d be very surprised if Demelza isn’t the murderer.”

  The doorbell startled us all. “Who could that be?” Aunt Maude said.

  “Such a silly question. Your guess is as good as mine,” Aunt Agnes said. “I suppose I had better answer it and find out.”

  She returned moments later with Detective Oakes and Detective Mason.

  “We have some more questions for Demelza Miles,” Detective Oakes announced.

  “Feel free to use the living room again,” Aunt Maude said.

  He shook his head. “We’d like to question her down at the station. Which cottage is hers?”

  “I’ll show you.” Aunt Agnes beckoned to him.

  As soon as the detectives were out of earshot, I turned to Aunt Maude and Aunt Dorothy. “It seems as though the detectives have come to the same conclusion.”

  Aunt Maude shrugged. “I’m not surprised. They had the diaries, after all.”

  We spent the new few minutes in companionable silence, until Aunt Agnes burst into the room, wild-eyed.

  “Detective Oakes just got a call!” She waved her hands around. “You won’t believe what’s about to happen!”

  Chapter 10

  “What is it?” we all shrieked.

  Aunt Maude added, “Is it something bad or something good?

  Aunt Agnes shrugged. “It would be good for some and bad for others.”

  “But what is it?” Aunt Dorothy asked.

  Aunt Agnes took a deep breath and then launched into it. “I had just left the detectives after showing them to Demelza’s cottage, when Detective Oakes got a call. He soon hurried after me to tell me the news.”

  “What is the news?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “Apparently, the fancy Sydney law firm is sending a junior partner to read the will.”

  I was shocked. “What, here?”

  Aunt Agnes nodded. “I gave permission, of course, because we will be able to listen in from the secret room.”

  “But isn’t that highly unusual?” I asked. “Wouldn’t they normally go to the lawyer’s office?”

  Aunt Agnes nodded. “The lawyer told Oakes it was in the terms of Priscilla’s will that if she was holidaying somewhere with relatives, that the reading of the will would take place at wherever she died, and if she died under suspicious circumstances, that the detectives were to be present at the reading of the will.”

  I was aware my jaw had dropped open. “You’re kidding! So, she suspected that she was in danger?”

  Aunt Agnes tapped her chin. “It certainly seems that way. Detective Oakes didn’t want to tell me too much, but I was able to protest just enough to make him tell me that. I expect he didn’t want to hold the reading of the will at the police station.”

  “Yes, those guests are a bit of a handful,” Aunt Maude said.

  Breena hissed. “Nasty.”

  “There’s no time to waste! We will have to run around and prepare the living room.”

  “We’re not going to feed them, surely?” I asked. “Are they going to pay more?” My mind was always on the budget.

  Aunt Agnes chuckled. “We’ll offer them cups of tea and coffee and maybe some cakes but nothing lavish. Isn’t this a stroke of luck!”

  “Feeding them cakes is a stroke of luck?” Aunt Dorothy asked.

  “Honestly, Dorothy.” Aunt Agnes shook her head in disgust. “This will help our investigation ever so much because we will be able to eavesdrop on the entire reading of the will.”

  Aunt Dorothy brightened considerably. “Such fun!”

  “More useful than fun, I should think,” Aunt Agnes said in scolding tones. “But for now, get out the vacuum cleaner, Dorothy, and give that room a good cleaning.”

  “Why can’t the maid do it?” Dorothy said. “It’s her job, surely.”

  Aunt Agnes scoffed. “If you recall, the maid turned out to be a crazed murderer who was working for The Other. We don’t have a maid now, and that’s why there’s too much dust. The lawyer is already on a flight from Sydney to Lighthouse Bay. Off you go, Dorothy.” She made a shooing motion with her hands.

  Soon, the rest of us were roped into the cleaning party.

  “Let’s put snacks in the secret room,” Dorothy said as soon as we had finished cleaning the living room.

  I thought Aunt Agnes would object, but to my surprise, she said it was a good idea. We stocked the secret room with packets of Tim Tams and freshly baked cupcakes.

  “What happens if we need a bathroom break?” Aunt Dorothy asked.

  “Simply leave the secret room and go to the bathroom.” Aunt Agnes rolled her eyes.

  “What if somebody sees me leaving the secret room?”

  Aunt Agnes threw up her hands to the ceiling. “Who will see you? Besides, they will all be in the living room. Now, help me with the chairs, and help me drag that heavy desk over here.”

  “Why do we have to do that?” Aunt Dorothy asked.

  “Because we want to see the suspects’ faces when the will is being read,” Aunt Agnes said. “We’ll position the lawyer so his back is to us, and we will position the suspects so that they’re facing us.”

  Aunt Maude clapped her hands. “What a great idea! Sometimes you do have them,” she added begrudgingly.

  We were about to sit down to relax when there was a knock at the door. “That’s a bit early for the lawyer!” Aunt Agnes exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting him for a while yet.” She looked at the time on her phone. “Oh! The time got away from me. He is due about now. I’ll let him in, and quick, all of you go into the living room and try to act with a measure of decorum.”

  We were all sitting politely when Aunt Agnes showed in the junior partner. I felt
like somebody from a Jane Austen novel, as though I should be sitting demurely, doing needlepoint.

  “I would like you to meet Oskar Winstanley,” Aunt Agnes said.

  “With a K,” the man said.

  “Winkstanley?” Aunt Dorothy said, clearly perplexed. “or Winstanleyk?”

  The man pursed his lips. “Oskar with a K.”

  Aunt Dorothy nodded. “Oh.”

  “No, K,” he said.

  I stared at the man. He appeared completely humourless, tall, thin, with the most atrocious combover I had ever seen. He reminded me of a ghoul, but then I silently censured myself for having such thoughts.

  “These are my sisters, Maude Jasper and Dorothy Jasper, my niece Valkyrie Jasper, and my other niece, Breena.”

  He stared at Breena. “And your surname, madam?”

  “Hecate,” Aunt Agnes supplied.

  “So, none of you are friends or relatives of Mrs Lockhart?”

  Aunt Agnes shook her head. “No, we run this Bed and Breakfast establishment, and the guests, her relatives and associates, stay in the cottages outside. Would you like me to fetch them for you?”

  “If you would be so kind,” he said.

  Aunt Maude, Aunt Dorothy, Breena, and I stood up and made our way out of the room. As I walked past the man, I noticed a strange scent clinging to him, something akin to mothballs.

  Aunt Agnes went to fetch the boarders, while Breena walked up the stairs to her bedroom, no doubt to watch TV there, while the rest of us piled into the secret room.

  “We should offer them tea and coffee and food,” Aunt Dorothy said.

  “Agnes, no doubt, will take their orders when the boarders arrive,” Maude told her.

  The lawyer wasted no time sitting at the desk. It was a beautiful old desk, heavy English oak, with a green leather insert. We could only see the back of his head, but I saw him take notes out of his oversized briefcase and spread them across the table.

  There was another knock at the door. Aunt Maude’s hand flew to her mouth. “That must be the detectives. I’d forgotten about them.”

  She made open the door, but Aunt Dorothy put a restraining hand on her arm. “Ask the detectives and that lawyer if they’d like tea or coffee,” she said.