Witch is How The Dice Fell

by Adele Abbott

  “And then for the pièce de résistance.”

  “Was that supposed to be a French accent?” I laughed, but not for long. “Sorry, you were saying?”

  “I was saying that the centrepiece will be a giant game of skittles on the high street.”

  “It’s ten-pin bowling.”

  “Same difference. There’ll be ten giant skittles at one end of the street, and members of the public will be able to take turns bowling a giant ball at them.”

  “When you say giant, how big do you mean exactly?”

  “About half the size of the surrounding buildings.”

  “That’s huge. How is that going to work? Will you be using holograms?”

  “Of course not. I’ll get regular skittles and a ball, and use magic to make them giant size.”

  “I think I see a slight flaw in your plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The giant ball and skittles will destroy the high street.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll make sure they aren’t anywhere near Ever or Ever A Wool Moment.”

  “What about the rest of the shops?”

  “Collateral damage.”

  “No, it’s much too dangerous. People could get crushed.”

  “So what? They’re only humans.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I like the idea of the giant ten-pin bowling game, but you’re going to have to come up with something less dangerous.”

  “How many human casualties would be acceptable?”

  “None.”

  “You like to make life difficult, don’t you? I suppose I’ll have to have a rethink.”

  “Okay, thanks. While I’m here, Grandma, could I ask you about Candlefield cemetery?”

  “I hope you’re not thinking of buying me a plot for my birthday.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that I was in there yesterday.”

  “Do you often hang out in graveyards?”

  “Of course not. I was following someone.”

  “Who?”

  “Belladonna, the woman who’s working in the creche at Cuppy C. Have you met her?”

  “Not yet. Why were you following her?”

  “I don’t really know. There’s just something about her that bothers me. Anyway, she went to the overgrown section of the graveyard. The graves there have mostly been neglected and are overrun with weeds. Are you familiar with it?”

  “You’re talking about The Shadows.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, it’s the area of the graveyard where the evillest sups are buried. Are you familiar with Brynn Bonetaker?”

  “No.”

  “Delia Deathdrop?”

  “No.”

  “You really do need to brush up on your Candlefield history. Those are two of the most notorious sups who ever lived. They’re both buried in The Shadows. There are many others too. What was the name on the headstone that Belladonna visited? I assume you had enough gumption to check?”

  “I did, but that’s the strange thing. The grave she visited was well maintained but the headstone was blank. I was wondering if you had any idea how I can find out whose grave it is?”

  “You could start by talking to the churchwarden, I suppose.”

  “Right, thanks. I’ll do that.”

  I left Grandma to ponder how to stage a non-lethal TenPinCon promotion.

  On my way back up the high street, I had a case of déjà vu. Betty Longbottom was walking towards me, and she was covering one of her eyes with her hand. It was obvious even before she spoke that she was furious about something.

  “This time I’m definitely suing them!”

  “What’s wrong, Betty? I thought you and Deli had reached an agreement.”

  “I’ll see that woman in court!” And with that, she stormed off.

  What could have made her so angry?

  When I arrived back at the office, there was still no sign of Winky. I was just wondering how I could check on him when the cat himself came through the window.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just a couple of bruises. That lorry broke my fall.”

  “You have me to thank for that. I used magic to make sure you had a soft landing.”

  “Couldn’t you have picked a local vehicle? I had to wait until he stopped at the motorway services before I could get off.”

  “Pardon me for saving your life. How did you get back from there?”

  “I hitchhiked of course.”

  “Who would stop to give a cat a lift?”

  “A couple of pretty witches pulled up. I think they took quite a shine to me.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “They run a recruitment agency over the other side of Washbridge. They said I was welcome to move into their offices anytime I want.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “You pretend you wouldn’t care, but I know you’d be devastated if I left. Don’t worry, I couldn’t do that to you. Now, where’s that salmon?”

  “What are you going to do about Cat Zip?” I asked while he tucked into his food.

  “I’m done with that. I thought the professor knew his onions, but the man almost killed me. There are easier ways to make money.”

  “What about all the chickens?”

  “What chickens?”

  “The ones that are still waiting to cross the road.”

  “That isn’t even in the same postcode as funny.”

  ***

  It had been Fred Marlow’s birthday the day that Kirk Sparks had been refused entry to the Lucky Thirteen casino. I’d eventually managed to get hold of him and he’d agreed to drop by the office.

  “Thanks for coming in to see me, Mr Marlow.”

  “It’s Fred. Lawrence told me you’d spoken to him already.”

  “That’s right. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I grabbed a coffee on my way here.” He shuffled around on the seat as though he was trying to get comfortable. “Although I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “Are you familiar with that coffee shop on the high street?”

  “Coffee Games?”

  “That’s the one. I’ve never been in there before, and I won’t be going back.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was standing at the counter, waiting for my Americano, when some idiot wearing a blindfold stuck a pin in my—err—” He shuffled around again.

  “Oh dear. Why would someone do that?”

  “I was going to thump the guy, but he apologised and said something about it being pin the tail on the donkey day.”

  “Right. Would you like a cushion to sit on?”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  I ran through the story that Lawrence Lawson had told me about the night they’d all visited the casino.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened,” Fred said. “There’s no way Kirk was drunk that night.”

  I was in no doubt that he was right about that. It was now obvious to me that the real reason Kirk had been turned away was because he was the only sup in the group.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me, Fred? Any idea at all what Kirk was working on?”

  “Not really, although he did ask if I’d mind paying another visit to the casino.”

  “To do what exactly?”

  “Just to observe really. He wanted me to take note of who the winners were. He said I should focus on the craps table. So that’s what I did. I stayed there for a couple of hours and made a note of those players who were on a winning streak.”

  “Then what?”

  “Kirk was waiting for me in the car park. When I left the casino, I assumed we’d go straight back to his place, and I’d tell him what I’d observed. But he insisted that we stay there until the early hours of the morning, so that I could point out the winners as they came out.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yeah. There were about five of them altogether.”

  �
�Then what?”

  “Then nothing. Kirk seemed quite excited by it all, but I have no idea why.”

  “Didn’t you ask him?”

  “Of course I did, but he said he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure his hunch was right.”

  “And he didn’t tell you what that hunch was?”

  “No, and by then, I was past caring. I just wanted to get home to my bed. I’m not sure how any of this helps. Lawrence told me that Bernie still doesn’t believe it was a tragic accident.”

  “That’s right.”

  “My heart goes out to her, but I don’t really see what other explanation there can be, do you?”

  “That’s what I intend to find out. Thanks very much for coming in today.”

  “No problem.” He winced again as he got out of the chair.

  Things were slowly starting to make sense. When I’d first seen the cryptic notes in Kirk’s notepad, I’d been flummoxed by the references to the number five, but I now realised that the ‘5’ wasn’t a five at all. It was the letter ‘S’. And the ‘S’ stood for sups.

  No 5 allowed. Was actually No sups allowed.

  After he’d been refused entry into the casino, Kirk must have jumped to the conclusion that no sups were allowed inside.

  Got it wrong. Some 5 allowed. Was actually Got it wrong. Some sups allowed.

  His subsequent visits to monitor the casino must have made him realise that some sups were being allowed inside.

  Only 5 win. Was actually Only sups win.

  This final entry was the most significant. Kirk had asked his friend, Fred Marlow, to point out the big winners. And those big winners had all been sups.

  At last, I felt I was making some progress on this case, but to get any further, I would need to get inside the casino.

  When I called it a day, Winky was still busy dismantling the remains of the Cat Zip. Mrs V had already left, and Alistair was just about to leave.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to get together this afternoon, Alistair. I got caught up with a few other things. Maybe we can do it tomorrow.”

  “No problem.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket, and then bent over and began to fiddle with his trouser bottoms. It took me a few seconds to realise what he was doing.

  “Bike clips?”

  “They’re a nuisance really. They ruin my trousers, but better safe than sorry.”

  “You’re on your bike?”

  “Yes. I cycle everywhere.”

  As I walked out of the door, I almost ran into a man in overalls, carrying a large tool bag.

  “Sorry, lady. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Are you here for the clown school?”

  “Me? No.” He laughed. “Not really my thing. I’ve been carrying out some minor repairs for your landlord.”

  “Macabre.”

  “What is?”

  “The landlord: Martin Macabre.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s the guy.”

  Chapter 11

  It was the next morning, and Jack and I had just finished breakfast.

  “When are you going to shrink the furniture and move it out of the spare bedroom?” he said.

  “There’s plenty of time.”

  “The twins are coming tomorrow.”

  “I know, but there’s no need to panic. Once I’ve shrunk everything, it’ll only take a few minutes to put it in a shoe box. We can do it tonight.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “Have I ever let you down?”

  “Hmm. I still don’t understand why you won’t tell me about the ideas your grandmother came up with for marketing TenPinCon.”

  “It’s like I said last night, the plans need some tweaking.”

  “You could at least give me some idea of what she has in mind, couldn’t you?”

  “If I told you, it would scare you to death.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. I’m a big boy.”

  “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Her idea was to have a giant bowling ball and pins in the high street.”

  “That sounds cool. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing much, provided you aren’t worried about the damage that would be done to the surrounding buildings. Oh, and then there are all the people who would be crushed. Other than that, it sounds like a fabulous idea.”

  “I see what you mean about scaring me to death.”

  “I told her she had to go back to the drawing board, and come up with something that didn’t involve devastation on the scale of a small earthquake.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “By the way, how did the talk from the cybercrime expert go yesterday?”

  “It didn’t. Someone hacked his satnav, and he ended up at the wrong police station.”

  ***

  When I left the house, I heard a sound I hadn’t heard for some time. It was Bessie’s whistle. Mr Hosey brought the train to a halt in front of our house.

  “Morning, Jill.”

  “Good morning, Mr Hosey. What happened to your face?”

  It was covered in red blotches.

  “It seems I’m allergic to tree bark.”

  “Oh dear. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “The doctor has told me I have to give up the tree camouflage.”

  “What about the bushes?”

  “He recommended I stay away from those too, just to be on the safe side.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “I’ll have to scale back the surveillance until I can come up with another camouflage idea. Unless—”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you allergic to bark, Jill? Maybe you could stand in for me until I find an alternative.”

  “I’d love to, but I suffer from leafitus. It’s a rare allergy which affects only one person in every hundred thousand. If I go anywhere near a leaf, I get a rash similar to yours.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “You should ask Jack. He’s quite partial to camouflage.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  Snigger.

  ***

  “Your wait is over, Jill.” Mr Ivers had a smile twice as wide as his face.

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re such a kidder. Pretending that you don’t know what I mean.”

  I didn’t have the first clue what he was talking about.

  Until he held out the newsletter.

  “Of course.” I tried, but failed to sound enthusiastic. “How could I have forgotten?” I threw it on the passenger seat, and was about to drive off.

  “Wait! You’ve forgotten the audio version.” He passed it to me.

  “Cassette?”

  “You’ll be able to listen to it while you drive.”

  “Right, thanks.” That went onto the seat too.

  “Let me know what you think of it. I’ve included a recap of all the big movies released while I’ve been away.”

  “Will do.”

  Two miles down the road, I pulled into a layby, and hurled the newsletter (printed version and cassette) into the rubbish bin.

  ***

  There was a clown sitting on the bottom step of the stairs to my office. Normally, I’d have given him a wide berth, but he was in tears.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Someone has stolen my shoe.” He pointed to his feet. “They cost me a fortune.”

  I could see why. The one remaining shoe was at least three feet long.

  “Maybe you’ve just misplaced it?”

  “How could I misplace something this size?”

  He had a point. “What makes you think someone deliberately stole it? Surely, one shoe wouldn’t be any good to anyone.”

  “I’m not the first person this has happened to. Coco had one of his stolen yesterday, and the day before it was Bonkers.”

  “What was bonkers?”

  “That’s his clown name. Bonkers had one of his shoes taken too.”

  “That is strange. Is it always the same shoe?
”

  “No. We all have our own shoes.”

  “I meant is it always the same foot: left or right?”

  “They took my right shoe. I don’t know about the others. Why?”

  That was a very good question. Why did it matter? “No reason. I’d better get going. I hope you find your shoe, err—?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Right. Good luck, Bingo.”

  It was obvious that Alistair had made it to work on time today because I could hear his whistling even before I reached the top of the stairs.

  “Morning, you two.”

  “Morning, Jill.” Mrs V was speaking much louder than usual. No doubt because of the earmuffs she was wearing.

  “Morning.” Whistling boy looked up from his work.

  “Did you drive or come on the bike, Alistair?”

  “In the car of course. I never did get the hang of riding a bike.”

  “But I thought—never mind. We can have that get together later today if you like?”

  “I’m not ready yet, Jill. I’d rather wait until I have something meaningful for you to see.”

  “Oh? I thought you said—err, my mistake. Carry on. Give me a shout when you’re ready.”

  “Will you and Jack be coming to the hula hoop marathon on Sunday, Jill?” Mrs V had now removed her earmuffs.

  “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to make it. We have my cousins and their babies staying with us this weekend.”

  “You must take photos of the little ones for me to see.”

  “I will, and if we can get to the hula hoop thingy, we will.”

  “Morning, Winky.” I laughed. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re trying to hula hoop. Emphasis on trying.”

  He spun the hoop around his middle and made a few clumsy gyrations, presumably in an attempt to keep it spinning.

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

  “No, you’re not. You don’t have a clue.”

  “Okay, smarty pants.” He stepped out of the hoop. “If you’re so clever, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

  “It’s years since I did any hula hooping.”

  “That’s what I thought. You’re all talk, as usual.”