by Adele Abbott
“Bella managed to grab the chopper before it crash landed.”
“I’m so very relieved.”
“You should be. You would have had to buy me a new one if it had crashed.”
I wasn’t sure who I should be more angry with. Winky for being a psycho or Armitage for trying to get me thrown out of my offices. I settled on Armitage—he didn’t have such sharp claws. I’d get my own back on Mr Gordon Armitage.
I was still dabbing blood from the scratches on my legs when Mrs V came back into my office. Or at least, I assumed it was Mrs V, because I had my back to the door.
“What happened to your legs?” Jack Maxwell said.
I hurriedly turned around and threw the bloody tissue into the waste basket.
“The cat mistook me for his scratching post.” I pointed to Winky.
“He did that? That animal is a psycho. Why don’t you get rid of him?”
“He’s quite sweet really.” Who was I kidding?
“What’s he doing anyway?”
I glanced across at Winky. Oh bum, I’d forgotten he still had the remote control.
“Oh that? It’s—err—it’s just a cat toy I picked up at the market.”
“It looks like some kind of remote control.”
“Does it? Oh, yeah. I hadn’t noticed.”
I just hoped that Maxwell wouldn’t see the helicopter. How was I meant to explain that away?
“What brings you here, Detective?”
“There’s news on the Tregar Court murder. I was passing by anyway, and thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks, but are you sure that Sushi won’t mind?”
He gave me a cutting look.
“Sorry, she just winds me up.”
“Susan is a first class detective. She’ll be an asset to the Washbridge force.”
Yawn. “If you say so.”
“I wanted to let you know that Jason Allan has been found dead. Suicide.”
That was the last thing I’d expected. Sure, he’d been in shock when I’d told him about Alan Dennis, but I never dreamed he would kill himself.
“Are you sure it was suicide?”
“Pretty much. The handwriting on the note is definitely his.”
“Poor guy.”
“That’s not all. In his suicide note he confessed to murdering Alan Dennis. He also made a point of saying that he’d had no idea the man was his father or even that he was paying his rent.”
“Why did Jason kill him? It’s not as though he knew he was his father.”
“Who says he didn’t know? We only have Allan’s word for that.”
“I saw his reaction when I told him. He was in complete shock. There’s no way he knew before.”
“Either way, he made a full confession.”
“But, why wasn’t the murder captured on tape?”
“We may never know. Anyway, I just wanted to bring you up to speed. I assume you’ll let your client know.”
“Yeah, thanks. And thank Sushi for me.”
Maxwell shook his head. “You really should cut Susan some slack. You two are more similar than you might like to think.”
Way to insult someone.
It was like Piccadilly Circus in my office. No sooner had Maxwell left, than Kathy walked in.
“I passed Jacky Boy on the stairs.” She had a stupid grin on her face. “You two an item again?”
“We were never an item. We went out a couple of times—that’s all.”
“I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t. What did he want?”
“Nothing. Just work stuff.”
“How come his new girlfriend wasn’t with him?”
“She’s not his girlfriend.” I jumped in much too quickly.
“Okay. Keep your hair on. Why do you care if you’re not interested in him?”
“I don’t. I was just saying—never mind—what brings you here? Do you need another favour?”
“Charming. Anyone would think the only time I come to see my sister is to ask a favour.”
“That’s because it is. What is it this time?”
“It just so happens you’re wrong. I came because I have a bone to pick with you.”
“What did I do?”
“I believe you have something for me.”
I shook my head. I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Something your grandmother asked you to give to me?”
Whoops. Busted. “Oh yeah. I totally forgot.”
“Liar. You just don’t want me to work at her shop.”
“I did you a favour. You’d have hated working there. That woman can be a slave driver.”
“Is that what you think of me?” Grandma walked through from the outer office.
“Grandma?” I glared at Kathy who was enjoying my discomfort way too much. “You didn’t tell me that Grandma was with you.”
“It must have slipped my mind just like you forgot to give me her note.”
“I’m pleased to say that your sister has accepted my job offer, “Grandma said. “We both wanted to give you the good news.”
Yay! “That’s—err—great.”
“I start next week.”
Kathy was obviously thrilled—we’d see how long that lasted. Poor, delusional fool.
“What’s that buzzing noise?” Grandma asked.
I glanced at the window and saw the helicopter on its final approach.
“Must be workmen in the street,” I lied.
“What’s the cat doing?” Kathy stared at Winky who was pressing the lever on his remote control.
“That’s his new toy.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s meant to look like a phone or something.”
“It looks more like the remote control that Mikey has for his car.”
“Really? Do you think so?”
“Aren’t cat toys usually mice or fish?”
“I thought he might like something different.” I grabbed Winky and slammed the window shut. “Now, I have to get going. I have an appointment.” I herded Kathy and Grandma out of the office, down the stairs and outside. Moments later there was a crash a few yards away—just down the street from where we were standing.
“What was that?” Kathy yelled.
Grandma surveyed the tangle of metal and plastic on the ground. “It looks like some kind of toy helicopter.”
***
Beryl Christy wasn’t in her office, but then I deliberately hadn’t called ahead. Her secretary, Polly Waites, would have made a matching bookend with Mrs V. Except of course that Polly didn’t spend all day knitting.
She had no idea when Mrs Christy would be back, but she’d been told that I should be given access to any information I needed.
“Where are the HR and payroll records kept?” I asked.
“I look after all of that.”
“Could I see the HR record for Eddie Lingard?”
“I’m sorry, but Eddie’s details are no longer on the system.”
“Is it usual to remove an employee’s records when they leave?”
“No, but Mrs Christy specifically asked for Eddie’s to be deleted.”
“I see. What about his payroll details? Did those get deleted too?”
“No, because he’s still being paid.”
“How come?”
“I’m not really sure. Mrs Christy said to leave him on the payroll for now.”
“Right. Thank you for your help.”
Eddie Lingard had been dismissed for reasons unknown. Reasons which Mrs Christy refused to discuss. And yet, he was still being paid by the company who had dismissed him. I could think of only one explanation.
Chapter 19
Yay for garden parties! Don’t try to tell me that anyone actually enjoys them. What? You do? You freak!
Still, I had to admit that as garden parties go, this one was a cut above the average. As well as the usual cake, plant and tombola stalls organised by the locals, Colonel Briggs had brought in a
number of fairground stalls and rides. I hadn’t expected there to be so many people there, but then it was a beautiful, sunny day.
“You could at least try to look as though you’re enjoying yourself,” Kathy said.
“I am.” I gave her my cheesiest grin. “Look!”
“Sometimes you’re just plain weird,” she said. “Have you seen Pete?”
“The last time I saw him he was complaining about the mess that the crowds were making of the lawns. Where are the kids?”
“They probably went home crying because their Auntie Jill was ignoring them.”
“Don’t be horrible. I wasn’t ignoring them, it’s just that the grass is damp, and my heels keep getting stuck.”
“It might have helped if you’d worn sensible shoes. What were you thinking?”
Kathy was right—as usual. What had I been thinking? Heels and garden parties don’t mix. “So where are the kids?”
“They’re with Kylie’s mum.”
“Who’s Kylie?”
“One of Lizzie’s friends. The last time I saw them they were headed for the carousel. Why don’t you go look for them?”
I glanced at my shoes. Oh well, it was time to take one for the cause.
I was making my way gingerly across the lawn when I heard a familiar voice.
“Jill, glad you could make it.”
“Colonel, hi.”
I’d worked on a case for Colonel Briggs recently. After retiring from the military, he’d taken the reins of a dog rescue charity. He’d come to me when he’d suspected that one of the charity’s supporters had been murdered because she’d intended bequeathing money to Washbridge Dog Rescue. My investigations had revealed it had been a little more complicated than that, but everything had worked out okay in the end, and the charity had received a substantial donation from one of the deceased’s children. Better still, the colonel had given Kathy’s husband, Peter, a job looking after his estate’s grounds and gardens.
“Are you okay?” the colonel asked. “It looked like you were limping.”
“I’m fine. It’s just—” I gestured to my shoes.
“I have some wellingtons you can borrow. They may be a little on the large side.”
One glance at the colonel’s feet told me they’d be more than a little on the large side. “Thanks, I’ll be okay.”
“What do you think to all this?” He looked around. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Err—yeah. I love garden parties.” Hypocrite? Who, me? “I was just telling Kathy how much I was enjoying myself.”
“I’m afraid that Peter may not share your enthusiasm. He’s worried what it might do to the lawns.”
“He takes his job very seriously.”
“I can’t thank you enough for recommending him to me. He’s doing a sterling job. I was just headed for the refreshments tent. Will you join me?”
“Maybe later. I have to find my nephew and niece.”
“Okay, well enjoy yourself.”
Standing in one spot for any length of time was not a good idea—my heels were now wedged deep into the soft ground. After much swaying back and forth, I eventually managed to dislodge them, and continue on my stumbling way.
“Auntie Jill!” Lizzie shouted. “Where have you been?”
“Why are you walking funny?” Mikey threw his arms around me. “Have you hurt your foot?”
“No, Mikey, I just chose the wrong shoes.”
The woman who’d been standing with them, who I took to be Kylie’s mum, glanced down at my feet.
“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my balance. “I’m Kathy’s sister.”
“Right.” She smiled. “Kathy has told me all about you.”
She had? What did that mean exactly? Nothing good, I'd wager.
“You’re a private investigator aren’t you? How exciting.”
“Not as much as you might think.”
“Still. You must see some things. What are you working on now? Anything gruesome?”
That was my cue to leave.
“Sorry, I promised Kathy I’d take these two home. Thanks for looking after them. Come on kids!”
I grabbed Lizzie and Mikey by the hand, and dragged them behind the candy floss stall.
“I don’t want to go home!” Lizzie stamped her feet.
“It’s not time yet!” Mikey protested.
“It’s okay. We’re not going home.”
“But you said—”
“It was just a joke. I was playing a trick on Kylie’s mum.” I checked behind me to make sure she hadn’t followed us—the coast was clear. “So, what do you two want to do?”
“Win a bear!” Lizzie screamed. Why can’t kids speak at a normal volume?
“I want to win a bee! A giant bee!” Mikey yelled.
“Where can we win those?” I asked.
“Well,” Lizzie said, quite serious now. “To win a bear you have to knock a coconut down. To win a giant bee—which are stupid—”
“Giant bees are not stupid,” Mikey protested.
“Yes they are. Bees aren’t supposed to be giant. They’re supposed to be tiny.”
“You have to throw a hoop over a block of wood,” Mikey said.
“It’s very hard.” Lizzie sighed. “I’ve had three goes, and I couldn’t even hit the coconut.”
“That’s because you’re a rubbish thrower,” Mikey said. “I nearly got the hoop over the block.”
“No you didn’t!”
“I did!”
“You didn’t!”
“Okay! Okay! Let’s go and take a look at the stalls. Maybe I can win something for you.”
The garden party was divided into two distinct areas. On one side were all the stalls run by locals. On the other side were the fairground stalls and rides. Peter had told me that Colonel Briggs had reached an agreement with the fairground owner that the stalls and rides would be provided to him free of charge, but that all takings would be theirs.
The grey haired man at the coconut stall had a face which was more like a coconut than the coconuts themselves.
“How much is it?” I enquired.
He pointed to the board on the far side of the stall: three balls for one pound.
I handed over a pound coin, and he dropped three red balls on the counter in front of me. My first attempt missed by a foot.
“I told you girls can’t throw,” Mikey said to his sister.
Cheek! I’d show him.
My second attempt caught the coconut square on, but it didn’t budge.
I put everything I had behind my final attempt. That too hit the coconut full on, but still it didn’t budge.
“Unlucky,” coconut-face said.
Lizzie looked so sad, it was heartbreaking.
“Come and try the hoops.” Mikey grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the hoopla stall. Lizzie followed.
“Hello, darling!” A young man with floppy blond hair greeted me. “Where’s your boyfriend? You lost him?”
“Three hoops please.” I handed him a pound coin.
“Three hoops for the prettiest girl here today.”
This guy was about as subtle as a sledge hammer, but judging by the crowd of young girls hanging around the stall, his approach was having some success. Which was more than I had with any of the three hoops. All three found their target, but none of them covered the block.
“Unlucky, darling. Why don’t you have another go?”
I declined. Something just didn’t smell right to me.
“Sorry kids. Looks like we’re out of luck. Let’s go and find your mum.”
Kathy had tomato sauce all over her top lip from the foot long hot-dog she was devouring.
“What have you done now?” she asked me through a mouthful of bread and sausage.
“What do you mean?”
She pointed to the kids who both looked on the verge of tears.
“I haven’t done anything. They wanted me to try and win them a prize on the coconut shy and
hoopla, but I didn’t manage it.” I stepped closer so I could whisper. “I think they’re rigged.”
“Never mind kids.” She crouched down. “Why don’t I buy you both some candy floss?”
“Can I have a toffee apple instead?” Mikey said.
“Of course you can.”
Kathy and the kids disappeared in the direction of the candy floss stall. I made an excuse, and made my way back to the coconut shy. Standing to one side, I watched a procession of punters take turns at trying to dislodge the fruits. Some of them were simply hopeless, and missed the coconuts entirely. Others managed to find their mark, but with nowhere near enough power to have any effect. But, at least three different men hit the coconuts with enough power that the fruit should have been dislodged. Coconut-face dismissed their complaints as sour grapes. Meanwhile he continued to rake in the cash without once having to give out a prize. Something definitely wasn’t right.
I handed coconut-face my payment in return for another three balls. I cast the ‘power’ spell just before I took my first throw. My first attempt missed by inches, and crashed into the back wall with such force that the whole stall reverberated. My second attempt caught the coconut dead centre, and knocked it off the post and into the back wall. Coconut face stared in disbelief—first at the coconut, and then at me. My final throw hit another coconut full on—this time the fruit smashed into a thousand pieces.
“I’ll have two of those bears, please.” I pointed to the large orange bears on the top shelf at the side of the stall.
Coconut-face looked shell shocked, but recovered in time to say. “One prize per person only.” He pointed to the small print on the bottom of the price board.
“Just give me one then.”
With the bear tucked under my arm, I made my way over to the hoopla. Here again, I watched punter after punter attempt to get a hoop over a block of wood. Not once did anyone manage it. I was absolutely sure that it was impossible despite the fact that the stall holder regularly demonstrated that it could be done. I didn’t know how he was doing it, but my best guess was that the ring he used was marginally larger than those which he handed to the punters.
I hadn’t actually used the ‘smaller’ spell before although I had memorised it. Similar to the ‘shrink’ spell, it would allow me to reduce the size of an object. The blond guy was still flirting outrageously as I paid for another three hoops. Just like the coconut shy, this stall also had a ‘one prize per person’ rule written in text so small it was practically invisible. I threw the first hoop which only managed to clip the block. My second attempt landed on the block, but didn’t completely cover it. Before I threw the final hoop, I chose the block I intended to aim for, cast the ‘smaller’ spell and then tossed the hoop. My aim was true, and this time the hoop slipped easily over the block.