by Adele Abbott
“I’d better let you have my sponsorship money for Mrs V. How much was it again?”
“One hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Are you sure? That sounds an awful lot.”
“She did seventy-five minutes, double that because she came first. That makes one hundred and fifty.”
He took out his wallet. “I don’t think I have that much on me.” I could almost see the cogs turning in his head. “Hold on. One hundred and fifty minutes at fifty pence per minute is seventy-five pounds by my calculations.”
“Each.”
“Yeah, so why did you just ask me for one hundred and fifty?”
“I didn’t. I was just saying that’s how much we owe.”
Drat! I’d almost got away with it.
He handed me the sponsorship cash. “How’s that casino case of yours going?”
“I’m making some progress, but it’s a bit awkward because I can’t report back to the client.”
“How come?”
“If my theory is correct, it has something to do with sups. Most are turned away, but those who are allowed inside are using magic to win. It would make more sense if the casino barred all sups from entering. Why turn a blind eye to a select few? And how am I supposed to explain any of this to my human client?”
“I can see how that might be a problem. What’s your next step?”
“I’m going to pay the casino another visit. There isn’t much action during the daytime, so it’ll have to be tomorrow night.”
***
Jack and I left the house together.
“Morning, you two,” Kit called from next door.
“Pretend you haven’t heard him,” I whispered.
“Morning, Kit,” Jack called back.
“Did Jill tell you that we ran the West Chipping half-marathon yesterday?”
“No, she didn’t mention it. How did you get on?”
“A personal best time for both of us.”
“Congrats.” Jack gushed. “That’s brilliant.”
“Brilliant.” I echoed, somewhat less enthusiastically.
“Did Jill tell you about our idea for a community band?”
“No, she didn’t mention that either.”
“Yes, I did. You must have forgotten.” I began to edge towards my car. “Sorry, I really do have to get to work.”
Kit continued, “The Normals first gave us the idea with their alphorns. Then, when Jill mentioned that you played the glockenspiel, we thought why not put together a community band?”
Jack turned around just in time to see me driving away.
***
I arrived at the office building at the same time as Macabre’s handyman.
“Back again?” I held the door open for him.
“Yeah. No rest for the wicked.”
“What exactly has Macabre got you doing?”
“Lots of bits and bobs. Checking sticking windows, faulty radiators, that sort of thing. I’ve got a long list of snags to work through.”
Jimmy and Kimmy were in the outer office.
“Annabel said she thought you might be able to spare us a few minutes,” Jimmy said.
“Of course. Why don’t we go through to my office?”
“Would you like drinks?” Mrs V asked.
The two plain-clothes clowns declined the offer.
“Have a seat. How can I help?”
“We have a shoe problem,” Kimmy said.
“Are you referring to the missing clown shoes?”
“You’ve heard about it, then?”
“Yes. I bumped into Bingo on the stairs. He said he’d had one of his shoes stolen, and mentioned two other clowns who had suffered a similar fate. And of course one of Armi’s shoes is missing too.”
“There are many more than that, Jill,” Jimmy said. “At first, we put it down to carelessness. We assumed people had misplaced them, but it’s obvious now that they’re being stolen.”
“And is it always the same shoe?”
“No, everyone has their own pair of shoes.”
“I meant is it the same foot each time: right or left?”
“Sorry, silly me. Yes, it’s always the right foot. That’s the really weird part. If whoever was doing this was stealing pairs of shoes, I’d assume they were being sold. But what good is an odd shoe to anyone?”
“Can you help us? It may seem like a trivial matter, but something like this could ruin the school’s reputation.”
“It’s a very unusual case, but I’ll be glad to help.”
“Thanks, Jill. You’re the best.”
The two of them were on their way out of the door when Jimmy hesitated. “Will you be joining the Smallwash community band?”
“I—err—”
“Britt and Kit mentioned it to us this morning. We think it’s a great idea. I used to play the accordion, but it’s been a long time.”
“And I’ve decided to dig out my old school recorder,” Kimmy said. “We understand Jack plays the glockenspiel. What about you, Jill? What do you play?”
“Nothing really. Jack’s the musical one in the family.”
“You must join in. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll definitely give it some serious thought.”
“Bye then, Jill. And thanks.”
“You’ve been at it again, haven’t you?” Winky jumped onto the sofa.
“What are you talking about?”
“Glockenspiel?” He laughed. “I can smell one of your lies at a hundred yards.”
“It was only supposed to be a joke.”
“What are you going to play in this community band of yours?”
“I’m not. I’m steering well clear of it.”
“You should play the theremin.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“Yes, theremin is.” He laughed at his own so-called joke. “It would suit you down to the ground because all you have to do is wave your hands around, and you do that all the time anyway.”
“I do not.”
“Are you kidding? Having a conversation with you is like talking to a windmill.”
“Rubbish. Incidentally, did you note that I’m now going to be paid for working on the missing clown shoe case?”
“Some people have more money than sense.”
Just then, Mrs V came through to my office.
“Thank you for agreeing to help Sneezy and Breezy.”
“It’s Jimmy and Kimmy when they aren’t in costume.”
“Sorry, you’re right of course. But thanks, anyway.”
“I’m not too confident of getting a result. I mean, who would want a load of right-footed clown shoes?”
“It’s very strange, isn’t it? By the way, I hate to ask, but do you happen to have my sponsorship money? The organisers are keen to get it to Yarn Aid as soon as possible.”
“Of course.” I took out my purse. “Seventy-five pounds, wasn’t it?”
“One hundred and fifty altogether.”
“That’s what I meant.” I handed over the cash.
“This is very generous of you and Jack.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“That must have hurt.” Winky grinned.
“It’s for a good cause.”
“Yeah, but you hate parting with your money. What would you say if I offered you the chance to get it back?”
“I’m not doing anything illegal.”
“It’s nothing like that. I was thinking more of a small wager.”
“What kind of wager?”
“Seeing as how you lost your money over hula hoop, I thought you might be up for a hula hoop challenge.”
“Me versus you?”
“Yeah. A one-hundred-and-fifty-pound wager. Winner takes all.”
This was a dream come true. I might not be the world’s best hula hooper, but I was a thousand times better than Winky. When I’d seen him practising, he was lucky to keep it going for more than a few seconds.
“Okay, but we’ll
need to be clear on the rules.”
“We can use the same ones as on the old bag lady’s marathon.”
“Fair enough. When?”
“How about Friday afternoon? That’ll give you a few days to put in some practice.”
As if I’d need it to beat him. “Okay, you’re on.”
Easy money.
***
It was the second of the W.O.W. gatherings; this one was to be held at the home of Camilla Soapling.
“I’m going out, Mrs V.”
“Oh yes, it’s your beetle drive today, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure what to expect.”
“You’ll enjoy it. They’re really exciting. I must suggest to the yarnies that we hold one soon.”
I was just about to leave when I spotted something.
“I see you’re wearing your clown shoes, Alistair.”
“I hope you don’t mind, Jill, but with all the thefts recently, I thought it better to be safe than sorry.”
“Sure, that’s fine. Bye, everyone.”
Camilla Soapling had a luxurious apartment in what had once been an old glove factory. The complex was now called The Gauntlet.
“Come in, Jill.” Camilla took me through to the living room, which had a spectacular view over Washbridge. “You’ll probably recognise a lot of the ladies from Charlotte’s gathering last week.”
I did a quick scan of the room and was relieved to find that Gina Justice wasn’t among the guests. One run-in with her had been enough.
After tea and cake, we got down to the serious business of the day.
I was seated at a table with three other witches. One of them was a similar age to me, the other two were closer to Aunt Lucy’s age. Camilla went around the room, handing out sheets of blank paper and pencils.
“Have any of you played this before?” I asked the ladies at my table.
“We all play regularly,” the younger witch said. “I’m Freda, by the way.”
“You’ll have to show me what to do. This is my first time.”
“Don’t worry. It’s really easy. You have to throw a six first so that you can draw the body.”
On my first throw, I threw a five. “What do I get for a five?”
“Nothing. Not until you’ve got the beetle’s body.”
Five rounds later, and the other three had all thrown the six they needed to draw their beetle’s body. Two of them had got the head too. If I’d been amongst humans, I might have given the dice a little help, but I’d never get away with using magic around witches. On my tenth turn, I eventually managed to throw a six.
“Well done.” Freda beamed. “Now you can draw its body.”
So I did. “What now?”
“I—err—” Freda looked a little puzzled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m sure there must be square beetles somewhere in the world.”
Sheesh. I didn’t know the thing had to be anatomically correct. “What number do I have to throw next?”
“Anything but a six, but you’ll need to get the head before you can draw the eyes or the antennae, obviously.”
“Obviously.” I thought this game was supposed to be fun.
Ten minutes later, I’d managed to get the beetle’s head, and I was feeling quite pleased with myself when Freda shouted, “Beetle!”
I thought for a moment that she’d lost her mind, but then I realised she’d managed to complete the drawing of her beetle.
“I’m getting really good at this,” she said.
The other two witches on the table congratulated her. I was tempted to point out that it was simply a game of chance, involving no skill whatsoever, but instead, I said, “Well played. What happens now?”
“You have to add up how many body parts you’ve drawn. You get one point for each.”
That didn’t take much calculating. Needless to say, my score of two put me in last place in my group.
Camilla beckoned me over to her. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Err, yeah, it was great. What happens next?”
“The winners from each group play against each other to find the overall winner. The final is always the most exciting part.”
“I bet.” Yawn.
Freda was beside herself when she ran out the overall winner. For her prize, she received a manicure set, which I suspected was an unwanted Christmas present that had done the rounds and eventually ended up here.
An hour later, after a few more nibbles, it was time for everyone to say their goodbyes.
“I hope you enjoyed it, Jill,” Camilla caught me on my way out.
“Yeah, it’s been—err—great. A good attendance too.”
“Actually, there are usually more ladies here than there are today.”
“Oh?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I think it’s only right you know. Several of my regulars refused to come because they said you’d approached them, and tried to get them to side with you against your grandmother.”
“What? I did no such thing.”
“That’s what I thought. I tried to tell them that you would never do anything like that, but they were adamant it was you.”
Chapter 17
As it was such a nice day, I decided to take a shortcut through Washbridge Park on my way back to the office.
Seated on one of the benches, close to the fountain, were two familiar figures: Daze and Blaze looked well and truly cheesed off.
“Hello, you two.”
“Hi, Jill,” Daze said.
Blaze could only manage a nod.
“What are you wearing?” I laughed. “And what’s with the hairnets?”
“There are days when I wonder if I should have pursued a career in banking,” Daze said.
“We’re working undercover at Washbridge High School.” Blaze removed his hairnet, so he could scratch his scalp. “I don’t know how anyone can wear these things all day.”
“They’ve got us working in a school canteen.” Daze sighed.
“You’re dinner ladies?” Blaze shot me a look. “Sorry. I meant dinner persons. What’s going on at the school?”
“Nothing, apparently.” Blaze replaced his hairnet. “We’ve drawn a big fat blank so far.”
“And this is the third school we’ve been at,” Daze added.
“What is it you’re looking for?”
“According to our intel, there’s a gang of dream vampires somewhere in the city.”
“What’s so dreamy about them?”
“Nothing, trust me. They’re not actually vampires at all. They’re sups called Radix, but everyone calls them dream vampires because, just as real vampires need blood to survive, the Radix need dreams.”
“How does that work?”
“They feed on dreams. They literally suck them out of people’s heads while the person is asleep.”
“That sounds disgusting.”
“It is, which is precisely why the practice has been outlawed. In the same way as vampires are required to drink synthetic blood, the Radix are supposed to feed at dream stations, which can be found in a number of locations scattered around Candlefield.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever noticed them.”
“There’s no reason why you would. The buildings don’t have anything on the outside to identify them. They generate artificial dreams that are available free of charge to the Radix. For the most part, the system works very well.”
“What about the Radix who live in the human world? Do they have access to artificial dreams here?”
“That’s the thing. It’s impossible to produce artificial dreams over here. That’s why the Radix have been banned from ever venturing to the human world. Simply being here is an offence, which is why we’re trying to track them down.”
“But so far, no luck.” Blaze sighed.
As I listened to them, I was thinking about Lizzie who had been complaining that she couldn’t dream. I didn’t speak up because I didn�
�t want Daze or Blaze to do anything that might freak her out. I figured it would be better for me to handle it in my own way.
“What do they look like? The Radix?”
“They’re ugly so-and-sos.” Blaze screwed up his face.
Daze elaborated. “Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, they’re normally invisible to the naked eye.”
“How do you catch them, then?”
“Duck feathers.”
“Sorry?”
“That’s the only way to see them. If you cover a Radix in duck feathers, they become visible for a few minutes. Just long enough to clamp handcuffs on the little blighters.”
“How big are they?”
“The size of fairies.” She took something out of her pocket. “Look.” It was a pair of the tiniest handcuffs I’d ever seen. “We can use these on either fairies or Radix.”
“And it has to be duck feathers? Not goose or—?”
“Only duck feathers will work. Why?”
“No reason. Just curious.”
Daze checked her watch. “I suppose we’d better get back.”
“Good luck with the Radix.”
***
I hadn’t been able to spend much time with Jimmy and Kimmy earlier because I’d been due at the W.O.W. beetle drive. Now that I had a little more time, I decided to pay them another visit, to get as much information as possible on the missing clown shoes.
Macabre’s maintenance man was just leaving Clown as I went in. Kimmy was behind the reception desk.
“Hi, Kimmy.”
“It’s Sneezy and Breezy when we’re in costume.”
“Sorry. Do you and Breezy have time to talk to me about the shoe thefts?”
“Of course. I’ll get someone to watch the desk. Follow me, Jill.”
When the three of us were seated in their office, I ran through my list of questions.
“First, I have to ask. Do you think this could be an inside job?”
“I really don’t think so,” Breezy said. “All of our staff are people we’ve known for several years, and I’d trust them with my life.”
“Okay. Has there been any sign of a break-in?”
“Nothing.” Sneezy shook her head.