All Was Revealed

by Adele Abbott

  “Couldn’t we just doorstep them?”

  “Not as a first resort. We’ll try the polite way first. I’ll give you a call when I’ve managed to arrange something, then we can conduct the interviews together.”

  Chapter 6

  Jack phoned. Maybe after enduring a night out with Kathy, he’d decided he wanted to call it a day. Who could blame him?

  “Hey, petal—sorry—I mean Jill. Look, it’s just a thought, but I wondered if you’d like to go to that new bar in town. Have you seen it? Bar Fish? Weird kind of a name.”

  Not only had I heard of it, I’d actually been there on a couple of occasions. But I didn’t want to spoil Jack’s surprise, so I played along.

  “Bar Fish? I don’t think I know it.”

  “Apparently, they’ve got tropical fish everywhere. It gets very good reviews. I thought we could go there tonight, if you’re not doing anything. It would be nice to have an evening when it’s just you and me—no Miles and Mindy, no Kathy and Peter. What do you say? Are you free?”

  “That sounds great. Shall I meet you there?”

  “Yeah. That’s probably best. Let’s say eight o’ clock. I should be done by then, barring a major incident.”

  “Eight’s fine by me.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “I’ll find it.”

  Well, well! This was beginning to look like a real relationship.

  I had to pay a visit to the print-shop because I’d run out of business cards. I’d no sooner stepped out of my office when someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was my bestest friend, Miles Best.

  “What do you want, Miles?”

  “Jill, I’m glad I bumped into you.”

  “Looks like you were following me.”

  “You’re right. I’ve been waiting for you to come out.”

  Normally, Miles was all smiles, but today he looked subdued—worried even.

  “Jill, I need a favour.”

  I laughed. “That is a joke, right?”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “You’re asking me for a favour after that ad campaign you ran?”

  “I’m really sorry about that. I meant no harm.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Like you didn’t mean any harm when you put the rats in Cuppy C.”

  “That was only a joke.”

  “I don’t believe you. You were trying to get Cuppy C closed down.”

  “I would never do anything like that. I still have a soft spot for the twins.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But it really was just meant as a bit of fun. I’ve always liked playing practical jokes.”

  “It’s time you grew up, then.”

  “You’re right, and I will, I promise. But I really do need a favour.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s your grandmother.”

  “What about her?”

  “I guess you already know that she’s sabotaged my wool subscription service.”

  “I know no such thing. How do you know it isn’t just broken?”

  “Come on, Jill. You know as well as I do that your grandmother is behind it.”

  “If she is, and I’m not saying she is, but if she is, why are you talking to me?”

  “She won’t listen to anything I’ve got to say.”

  “It sounds like you’re kind of stuffed then.”

  “Please, Jill. This is really serious. I realise that we may have overstepped the mark a little.”

  “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot then. But Mindy is really keen on this wool shop. It’s something that she’s always wanted to do, and now it looks like we’re going to be closed down before we even get started. If things carry on like they are, we’ll be bankrupt.”

  “I still don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

  “Would you have a word with your grandmother, and ask her to reverse the spell which is causing the wool subscription to fail?”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “What if I promise to close down Best P.I. Services?”

  “Close it down? Do you actually have any clients yet?”

  “No, but we soon will have after all the advertising we’ve done. If you could get your grandmother to take back the spell, I’ll give up Best P.I. Services.”

  “And do you promise that there’ll be no more dirty tricks on either Cuppy C or Ever A Wool Moment?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Your word? Oh well. That’s okay then.”

  “I mean it, Jill. I’ll close Best P.I. Services today if you get your grandmother to reverse the spell.”

  He looked so desperate that I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. I’d certainly be glad to see the back of Best P.I. Services. I didn’t need any more competition.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Grandma, but I can’t promise she’ll listen.”

  “Thank you, Jill.” He threw his arms around me, and gave me a hug.

  “Get off!” I pushed him away.

  “Sorry. And, thanks again.”

  “Are you sure that you only need two-hundred of these?” The man behind the counter at the print-shop had a smudge of ink under his nose. It looked like some kind of weird, blue moustache.

  “Yeah. Two-hundred will be fine.”

  “I only ask because most people order a minimum of a thousand.”

  Most people probably have clients to give them to. I still had some of the last batch, but they’d yellowed with age.

  “Two hundred is fine, thanks.”

  “What does P.I. stand for? Is it Pet’s Insurance?”

  Oh boy. Why did I always get them?

  “Didn’t you see the picture of a magnifying glass on the card?”

  “Yeah, I did. I assumed that was something you use to help see the smaller pets better.”

  “You’re right. That’s exactly what it is. It’s called a small pet maximiser.”

  He smiled—obviously pleased with himself. “I told Derek that’s what it stood for. He thought it was Pottery Inspector. What an idiot.”

  Kathy was behind the counter at Ever A Wool Moment: she looked half asleep.

  “I can see you’re busy.”

  She yawned. “It’s been dead in here all day. What about you? Are you busy?”

  “Run off my feet, as always.”

  “Liar. How’s Jack?”

  “Okay, I think. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the murder mystery evening,” I lied. “I think you might have scared him off.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He obviously enjoyed our company. We should do it again some time, the four of us.”

  “Yeah, we should. Some time.” Like the twelfth of never. “Is Grandma in today?”

  “In the back as usual.”

  “Don’t fall asleep while I’m with her.”

  “Grandma, do you have a minute?”

  “I always have a minute for one of my favourite grandchildren.”

  “Aren’t I your favourite?”

  “You’re in the top three.”

  She seemed uncharacteristically jolly. Maybe this was a good time to ask her about Miles. Or maybe, she was just lulling me into a false sense of security.

  “I wanted to ask you a favour.”

  “You always want to ask me a favour, Jill.”

  “I’ve just been talking to Miles Best. They’re having a really bad time of it over there at Best Wool.”

  “Really? How very sad. Pass me a tissue.”

  “No. Listen. It sounds really serious. If they can’t get things resolved before the end of the week, they’ll probably go bankrupt.”

  “And I’m supposed to care about that, why?”

  “Because I know deep down, you’re a caring, compassionate person.”

  She laughed.

  “Okay, maybe not. But surely, you can give him one more chance.”

  “Why doesn’t the coward come over here him
self, and ask me to reverse the spell?”

  “He’s probably scared of you.”

  “Of me? Why would anybody be scared of little old me?”

  “I wonder.”

  “Do you know your problem, Jill?”

  “I suspect you’re about to tell me.”

  “You’re too soft. You have to learn to be more ruthless. People will walk all over you, otherwise.”

  “He’s promised to close down Best P.I. Services if you reverse the spell.”

  “Ah, now I get the picture. There was I thinking you were being soft, when in fact you were just looking after your own self-interests. That’s my girl!”

  “No, yes. I mean—I think it would be the right thing for you to do.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to back off my competition, so that Miles Best will close down Best P.I. Services, which will help you? That doesn’t seem equitable. What do I get out of the deal?”

  “My gratitude.”

  “What good is that to me? I can’t spend gratitude.”

  “How about if I owe you a favour?”

  What was I doing? Grandma’s favours nearly always involved her feet.

  “A favour? Hmm? Well, that’s different.”

  “So? Is it a deal?”

  “You can tell Miles that his wool will be working before the end of the day, but warn him that he’d better never bad-mouth Ever A Wool Moment again or he’ll regret it.”

  “Thanks, Grandma. I’ll tell him.”

  ***

  I’d promised to visit The Finger, which was a small thimble shop near the market square in Candlefield. A chime rang as I walked through the door. The interior was delightful; all of the shelves were full of thimbles. It was absolutely charming.

  “Hello.” The squeaky little voice came from the back of the shop. It was the same squeaky little voice that had spoken to me on the phone.

  “Hello there,” I called, but I still couldn’t see anyone.

  Then, a tiny elf jumped onto the stool behind the counter.

  “Are you Jill Gooder?”

  “That’s right. I promised I’d pop in today.”

  “Thanks for coming. I’m Tuppence Farthing.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tuppence. What is it I can do for you exactly?”

  “Over the last three or four weeks, we’ve had several thimbles stolen.”

  “When you say ‘several’, how many are we talking about?”

  “At least forty. They didn’t all disappear in one go. It tends to be one or two at a time.”

  “I see. And you haven’t seen who’s taking them?”

  “No. That’s the strange thing. The only time we’ve noticed they were missing is at the end of the day when we’ve been closing up.”

  “Can you think of anyone who’d want to steal your thimbles?”

  “Not really. They’re very pretty, but they’re not particularly valuable. We’ve been open for years, and I honestly don’t remember there being any thefts before.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me that might help? Has anything unusual happened recently?”

  “The strange thing is, all the thimbles that have disappeared have had pictures of cottages on them. We have all sorts of designs in the shop: animals, landscapes, toys, seashells—all sorts of things.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a coincidence.”

  “It can’t be. It’s as though someone has stolen them to order.”

  “And you say you’ve reported this to the police?”

  “Yes, I’ve spoken to them, but they weren’t interested. They said they’d send someone round, but that was weeks ago and they still haven’t been. I think we can safely assume they’re not coming.”

  “Okay, Tuppence, I’ll see what I can find out, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thank you so much, Jill.”

  ***

  Even though I was running five minutes early, Jack was already waiting outside Bar Fish when I arrived.

  “You must have got away early,” I said, as he gave me a peck on the cheek.

  “Yeah. It was pretty quiet, so I thought I’d make a break for it before anything else came in. Have you seen this place?” He pointed through the window. “Look at that wall; it’s absolutely full of tropical fish. And behind the bar, there are tubes running along the back. Even under the floor; look at those tanks.”

  “It looks fantastic.”

  “Come on then.” He took my hand. “Let’s go inside.”

  “What are you drinking, Jill? White wine?”

  “They don’t do wine; they only serve fishtails.”

  Whoops!

  He gave me a puzzled look. “How do you know that?”

  “I—err—I—saw an article in The Bugle about the opening. It said they’d only be serving their version of cocktails—called fishtails.”

  “Ah, right. Clever gimmick.”

  “Hello again,” the barman said. “You’re becoming a regular.”

  Oh bum!

  Jack looked even more puzzled.

  “I have that kind of a face. People are always mistaking me for someone else.”

  Now it was the barman’s turn to look confused.

  “I’ll go get us a table, Jack. You can order for me.”

  Phew! I’d got away with it—just!

  We’d been in there for about an hour. The conversation was flowing freely; the fish were a delight. In fact, everything was going swimmingly.

  What? Come on, you must have seen that one coming.

  “Hello there, Jack. How’s it going?” A thick-set man, with more teeth than was healthy, approached us. “And who’s this delightful young lady?”

  “Hi, Stuart. This is Jill Gooder.”

  “Welcome to Bar Fish, Jill. I’m Stuart Steele. I own this place.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  “I assume you’ve taken advantage of the comp tickets I dropped off at the station, Jack?”

  Comp tickets? So that’s why he’d wanted to go to Bar Fish; he’d got tickets for free drinks. The cheapskate.

  “What do you do, Jill? Are you a police officer too?”

  “No. I’m a private investigator.”

  “Really? How fascinating. Well look, I’m sure the two of you would rather be alone, so I’ll leave you to it.”

  After he’d gone, I turned to Jack. “Comp tickets? Free drinks?”

  “Didn’t I mention that?”

  “You know you didn’t.” I laughed. “No wonder you were so keen to go out tonight. I didn’t realise you were such a cheapskate.”

  “Busted. Apparently Stuart’s hoping to franchise this concept. If this place takes off, he plans to open similar bars around the country.”

  “Based on what I’ve seen so far I’d say he’s in with a good chance. It’s a novel idea, and people certainly seem to like it.”

  By nine-thirty, the place was becoming crowded, and we were struggling to hear ourselves think. But then, all of a sudden, the noise was pierced by a loud scream. All eyes turned to a woman, who was pointing at the floor.

  “Stay here,” Jack said.

  I ignored him, and followed as he pushed his way through the crowd. When we reached the woman, she was hysterical, and was still pointing to the floor. Floating in the tank under the floor, was a young woman’s body; her dead eyes stared up through the glass. It was a face I recognised. A face I’d seen on the front page of The Bugle. It was Starr Fish—the reality TV celebrity.

  Jack flashed his warrant card, made a call to the station, and then addressed the crowd.

  “Stand back, please. I’m Detective Maxwell. No one leaves until my colleagues arrive, and they’ve had a chance to take your names and addresses.”

  Another uneventful date drew to a close.

  Chapter 7

  My phone rang; it was Myrtle.

  “Jill, look, I’m sorry about this, but the murder mystery players are being rather awkward. I’d hoped to arrange for us to inter
view them all on the same day, but it seems that’s not going to be possible. We’re going to have to spread it over a few days. I can’t really expect you to travel back and forth from Washbridge, so I’ll understand if you can’t make it, but I thought I should at least let you know what was happening.”

  “I’d still like to be involved, Myrtle, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Are you sure? It’s such a long way to come.”

  “I’m absolutely positive.”

  It wasn’t as though I had any work of a meaningful nature. I could hardly class the thimbles theft as a major case. And besides, that was in Candlefield, so time would stand still in Washbridge while I was over there.

  “Very well, dear. I’ve set up the first interview with Florence Long tomorrow at three-fifteen. Can you make it then?”

  “I’ll be there. Should I meet you at your place?”

  “Yes, we’ll go over to her house from there.”

  ***

  My relationship with Jack had been weighing heavy on my mind, so I’d called Love Spell and spoken to Hilary. She’d said I could drop by their Washbridge office, to have a chat.

  It was a while since I’d been there; Nathaniel was still working on reception. He greeted me with a welcoming smile, and asked me to take a seat. Moments later, Hilary popped her head out of her office, and called me through.

  “Thanks for seeing me at such short notice, Hilary.”

  “It’s the least I can do. We owe you a lot, Jill. If it hadn’t been for your help, we probably wouldn’t have a business right now. What exactly is it I can help you with? Surely, you’re not looking for a partner? I’d heard on the grapevine that you’re dating that sexy policeman.”

  “Yes, Jack and I are seeing each other, and no, I’m not looking for a date.”

  “How can I help, then?”

  “It’s about my relationship with Jack. I knew going in that sups were not allowed to reveal themselves to humans, but I never really appreciated what that meant in practice. Well, I guess I did to a certain extent because I’ve had to hide it from my sister and her husband, and from Mrs V, who I work with. But, being in a relationship with someone makes it way more difficult. How are you supposed to live with someone when you’re not able to tell that person exactly who you are?”