Witch is How The Dice Fell

by Adele Abbott

  Alistair was at his desk; he looked awful.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Just about.” He was still holding the tissues to his nose.

  “I reckon he’ll have a couple of black eyes in the morning,” Mrs V said. “His face is already starting to swell below his eyes.”

  “Perhaps you should go home,” I suggested.

  “Maybe I will. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I’m really sorry about what happened.”

  “You haven’t forgotten I’m not in this afternoon, have you, Jill?” Mrs V said. “I have my annual medical check-up.”

  “I had forgotten, but don’t worry about it. I’ll be here for most of the afternoon.”

  After seeing Alistair off, I made my way down the corridor to Clown.

  Kimmy was behind the desk.

  “Hi, Kimmy. Is Jimmy in? I’d like a word with you both.”

  “It’s Breezy and –”

  “Yes, yes, but if I could just speak to you both. It’s about the stolen shoes.”

  “Of course. Come through to the office.”

  “Do you know who the thief is?” Breezy said.

  “Before I get into that, where’s the maintenance man?”

  “Why?”

  “Humour me, please.”

  “He’s in the small classroom. We don’t have any classes in there for an hour.”

  “Take me there, would you?”

  “I don’t understand, Jill.”

  “All will become clear.”

  The maintenance man was sitting on the floor next to one of the radiators. He seemed surprised to see us. “I thought I was okay to work in here for the next hour?”

  “You are,” Sneezy said. “Jill wants a word with you, I believe.”

  “Hello again.” I walked over to him.

  “Hi?”

  “Would you mind showing me what’s in your tool bag?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You heard me.” I grabbed it, undid the zip, and emptied out the contents: three spanners, a screwdriver, a hammer and a clown shoe. ”You’re busted, buddy!”

  “Who are you?” Sneezy demanded.

  “It was only a joke,” the man spluttered.

  “Do you see anyone laughing?” Breezy looked as though he wanted to rip the man’s head off. “Why have you been stealing the shoes?”

  “I was paid to do it, but the guy who hired me said it was just a joke between you and him. He said you were always pulling practical jokes on one another.”

  “What man?” Breezy demanded.

  “Raymond Higgins.”

  “Raymond?” Sneezy looked shocked.

  “PomPom?” Breezy shook his head in disbelief.

  “Isn’t he the guy who runs the other clown school?” I said.

  “Yes. The Red Nose school. I just can’t believe Raymond would do something like this.”

  “You’re not going to turn me in to the police, are you?” The phony maintenance man put his tools back into his bag. “I would never have done it if I’d realised it was anything other than a practical joke.”

  “That’s up to these two.” I gestured to Sneezy and Breezy.

  “What good would it do?” Breezy sighed. “It’s PomPom who has to answer for this.”

  “There’s something I’d like to know,” I said. “Why did you only take one shoe?”

  “I didn’t have room in my bag to take both.”

  “And why did you always take the right shoe?”

  “I didn’t realise I had. I just grabbed the first one I saw.”

  ***

  Orville Ringstone lived in a fabulous mansion located ten miles south of Washbridge. The property was surrounded by a huge wall. The only access was through a large gate, manned by a guard.

  None of that was any match for my magic.

  After levitating over the wall, I strolled across the huge rear lawn, and took a seat next to the swimming pool. I’d only been there a few minutes when I spotted a man’s face at the French windows.

  Not wishing to be antisocial, I gave him a little wave.

  “Who are you?” He came storming out of the house. “How did you get in?”

  “What kind of greeting is that for a fellow sup?”

  “You have no right to be here. If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll have you thrown out.”

  “Oh yes. I’d forgotten that you don’t like sups on your properties. Particularly not in your casino.”

  “You have one minute to leave!”

  “Except that you do allow certain sups into the casino, don’t you? As long as they agree to hand over their winnings to you.”

  That seemed to knock the wind out of him momentarily, but he quickly recovered. “Are you a reporter?”

  “What would you do if I said I was? Drop giant dice on my head? Like you did to Kirk Sparks.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Jill Maxwell. I’m working for Kirk’s wife. She came to me because she suspects Kirk’s death wasn’t an accident.”

  “Of course it was. The inquest said so.”

  “Yes, but you and I know that the humans who conducted the inquest weren’t aware that a lightning strike could be caused by magic, were they?”

  “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” He laughed. “I’d like to see you prove any of this.”

  “There’s no need for me to prove anything because you’re going to present yourself at Washbridge police station. Once there, you’re going to confess to embezzling funds from the casino, and tax evasion.”

  “Embezzlement? I own the business.”

  “The casino is operating as a limited company. You and it are separate entities. You’ve been stealing from the business.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, but you are.” He took out his phone. “I can have someone here to remove you in a couple of minutes.”

  “Before you make that call, I have just one word to say to you: Rondan.” All the colour drained from his face and he dropped the phone. “I take it the name rings a bell?”

  “What about him?”

  “As I understand it, Rondan was your partner in the last scam you ran back in Candlefield. I also heard that you took all the money, and then left him to carry the can.”

  “He’s locked up.”

  “He is indeed. In Candlefield High Security Prison.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I was talking to a friend of mine earlier. You might have heard of her. Her name is Daze. She’s one of the—”

  “I know who she is.”

  “Good. Apparently, she has a list of charges, as long as her arm, to bring against you. She also happens to have a lot of influence with the judiciary back in Candlefield. When you’re convicted, there’s a one-hundred percent chance that you’ll be incarcerated in Candlefield High Security Prison, alongside your old mucker, Rondan.”

  “He’ll kill me.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what Daze said.”

  “I can’t go back there.”

  “There may be a way to avoid it.”

  “What is it? Tell me, please!”

  “Luckily for you, Daze just happens to be a very good friend of mine. She’s agreed that if you hand yourself in to the authorities here in the human world, she won’t drag your sorry backside back to Candlefield and Rondan.”

  “Hand myself in and tell them what?”

  “That you fixed the tables so that certain people would win. And that those people would then hand the cash to you. Obviously, you’ll have to leave out the bit about them using magic.”

  “And if I do this, I won’t have to go back to Candlefield?”

  “Correct.”

  “How about I give you some money instead? I’m a very rich man.”

  “You wouldn’t be trying to bribe me, would you? Because if you were, I’d be forced to tell Daze.”

  “No, no. I wasn’t. I promise.”

 
; “Good. In that case, you’d better hurry. You’re due at the police station.”

  “I’ll need time to put my affairs in order. A month ought to do it.”

  “You have two hours. If you haven’t handed yourself in to the police by then, you can expect a visit from the rogue retrievers.”

  “But, I—”

  “Goodbye, Mr Ringstone. I can see myself out.”

  The information Daze had provided to me had been invaluable. As she suspected, Ringstone was terrified at the idea of going back to Candlefield because he knew his ex-partner would kill him. Even so, the sentences he’d receive for the theft and tax evasion were nothing compared to the life sentence he deserved for the murder of Kirk Sparks. I consoled myself that it would at least allow Bernie to see the man she believed responsible for her husband’s death put behind bars.

  There was also one minor point that I’d omitted to mention to Ringstone. Daze had assured me that once he was released from prison in the human world, he would immediately be arrested and taken back to Candlefield, where he would spend many more years behind bars. I asked if he’d be incarcerated with Rondan, but Daze thought that might be a step too far.

  I’m not sure I agreed.

  ***

  Having sent Alistair home, and with Mrs V at her medical check-up, I expected to find the office locked, but the door was open.

  Inside, there was no sign of Mrs V, but to my surprise, Alistair was at his desk. Even more surprising was the fact that his eyes and nose showed no sign of the injury I’d accidentally inflicted on him that morning. When I’d sent him home, his eyes had already started to close, and his nose was crusted with blood.

  “What’s going on with your nose?”

  “Sorry.” He took his finger from his nostril. “It’s a disgusting habit I know. I’m trying to stop.”

  “I’m not talking about you picking your nose, I’m talking about the bruising.”

  “Bruising? Right. I—err, I—”

  While he stumbled to come up with an explanation, the penny dropped.

  “Who are you really?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Are you Alistair or are you Craig?”

  “I—err—”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me!”

  “I’m Craig.”

  “And who was sitting at that desk this morning?”

  “That was Alistair.”

  “I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t work out why you swapped your tie at lunchtime every day, or why you whistled in the morning, but not in the afternoon. And the clowns. And the bike.”

  “I can explain.”

  “Don’t bother. I want to see both of you in my office tomorrow afternoon. You can both explain then.”

  “What shall I do for the rest of the afternoon?”

  “Get out of my sight before I give you a pair of black eyes too.”

  “Right.” He grabbed his coat. “Sorry.”

  “Priceless!” Winky was in hysterics.

  “I’d be careful if I were you. I’ve already given one person a black eye today.”

  “You call yourself a P.I, and yet you didn’t even realise that you had two of them working for you.”

  “Neither did you.”

  “Of course I did. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to work it out.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  Chapter 25

  By the time I’d crawled out of bed the next morning, Jack had already finished his breakfast.

  “Morning, sweetheart.” I gave him a kiss. “You’re looking particularly handsome this morning.”

  He eyed me suspiciously. “What are you after?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I normally struggle to get more than two words out of you when you first get up. You obviously want something.”

  “No, I don’t. I just thank my lucky stars every day that I ended up with someone as kind and generous as you.”

  “Now I definitely know you want something. You might as well spit it out.”

  “It’s nothing, really. You know the casino case I’ve been working on?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If things have gone according to plan, the owner of the casino, a certain Orville Ringstone, will have handed himself in to the police yesterday, and he’ll have confessed to embezzlement and tax evasion.”

  “I thought it was a murder you were investigating?”

  “It was, but there’s no way I could make that stick here in the human world, so I had to settle for these lesser charges.”

  “What makes you think he will have confessed?”

  “It was either that or be taken back to Candlefield where he’d be incarcerated with a psychopath who is baying for his blood.”

  “And where exactly do I come into this?”

  “I want you to confirm with Washbridge police that he did in fact hand himself in, and that he’s been charged.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “It’s very simple. I won’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the last time I helped you, I told you I wouldn’t do it again.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “Yes, you do. It was when you asked me to find out what the Washbridge police had on Josh Radford.”

  “I thought you were just joking.”

  “No, you didn’t. You were just hoping I’d forgotten.”

  “But this is such a teeny little thing to ask.”

  “The answer is still no.”

  “You’re a meanie.”

  “I thought I was handsome, kind and generous?”

  “I lied about that.”

  He was right of course. I shouldn’t have asked him to use his position to get information for me.

  But he was still a meanie.

  “Jill!” he called from the lounge. “I think you’ll want to see this.”

  The TV was tuned in to the local news station.

  “I thought you were watching TenPin TV?”

  “I was just about to switch to it when this came on.”

  On screen, there was a picture of the Lucky Thirteen casino.

  “Turn it up.” I sat on the arm of the sofa.

  “We have just learned that the Lucky Thirteen casino, located between Washbridge and West Chipping, has closed with immediate effect. No official statement has been released, but an unofficial source is reporting that the owner, Mr Orville Ringstone, has been charged with a number of offences.”

  “Result!”

  ***

  I’d parked the car in Washbridge, and was walking towards my office building when my phone rang.

  “Jill, it’s Bernie.”

  “Hi.”

  “I’ve just seen the news about the casino closing down and the owner being arrested. Did you know about it?”

  “Yeah. In fact, I may have had a small hand in it.”

  “Are they going to charge Ringstone with murder?”

  “I’m afraid not. I believe he was responsible for Kirk’s death, but there’s simply no way to prove it. At least this way, he’ll do some time behind bars, and the casino has been closed down.”

  “I guess that’s better than nothing. Did you find out what story Kirk was working on?”

  “No. It’s like you said, those notebooks of his were indecipherable, but at least my investigation uncovered Ringstone’s theft and tax evasion.”

  “Do you think it’s possible more evidence might come to light that will prove he was behind Kirk’s death?”

  “I think it’s unlikely, but if it’s any consolation, I have a feeling that this may not be the end of Ringstone’s woes.”

  “I do hope you’re right. Thanks again for your help. I assume you’ll send me your bill.”

  “It’ll be in the post today.”

  Mrs V was at her desk.

  “I don’t think we’ll see Alistair today, Jill.” She was knitting yet anothe
r clown sock. “The poor lad must still be in pain.”

  “Not as much pain as he’ll be in when I catch up with him.”

  “What did you just say?” She looked appalled.

  “Nothing. Ignore me. I didn’t sleep well last night. Can you make up the bill for Mrs Sparks, and let me see it? I’d like to get it in tonight’s post.”

  “Will do. Do you think I should give Alistair a call to see if he’s okay?”

  “I wouldn’t bother. I have a feeling he’ll be in a little later.”

  “I’m excited about this afternoon,” Winky said. “Are you ready?”

  “Am I ready for what?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our hula hoop contest, have you?”

  “I’m going to have to postpone it.”

  “What? Why? Are you chickening out?”

  “No, but I’m too busy today. We can do it tomorrow morning.”

  “Saturday?”

  “Why not? I have to come into town for the stupid TenPinCon promo, so I’ll pop in here first. It shouldn’t take long to beat you. Besides, I still have to buy a hula hoop.”

  “You can borrow mine.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid? I know you and your little tricks. You’ll weigh it down, or find some other way to sabotage it when it’s my turn.”

  “You’re not very trusting, are you?”

  “When it comes to you, no.”

  “So how come you’re so busy today? Paperclip drawer need sorting again, does it?”

  “Have you forgotten? I have the Robinson twins coming in this afternoon. And before that, I have to do some research into a woman called Griselda The Vile.”

  “I know her brother: Godfrey The Tile. If you need your kitchen or bathroom tiling, he’s your man.”

  “You’re hilarious. Let’s see if you’re still laughing tomorrow when I wipe the floor with you.”

  “Dream on. You aren’t going to sulk when I take your money, are you? I know what a bad loser you can be.”

  “First, I am not a bad loser, and second, there is zero chance of you winning.”

  ***

  The witch behind the desk at Candlefield Library was fresh-faced and eager to be of assistance.