Murder Ghost Foul: The Complete Mystic Springs Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series

by Mona Marple

  I shuddered.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, me again,” she apologised, with a half-smile. “I’m afraid that Mr Snipe won’t be able to join us this evening. Here at Winifred’s we have a long history of continuing in the face of adversity and this occasion will be no different. We shall continue with the evening’s plans.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Came a cry from the audience.

  “Yeah, have you lost him?” Someone else called. Their table descended into laughter.

  “It’s really nothing to worry about,” Kathi Salt said. I couldn’t read whether she knew the truth or not. Some witches know when a person is lying, but I don’t have that gift. “I do hope you’ll make do with me presenting this evening’s very special award.”

  “Award?” Violet asked.

  “He’s dead!” Crystal shouted suddenly from beside me. She grasped her temples with her finger tips as if she had received a vision. The act was entirely believable. She did have visions, and she’d never learned how to control them, seeing them as more of an unreliable distraction in her life than the power they could have been if she’d harnessed them correctly. She’d confided in me once that they scared her a little. “He’s been killed! I can see it. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Commotion took over the dining room as people scrambled in their seats to take a good look at Crystal. She stood next to me, with more than a passing resemblance to Barbie as the drunken admirer at the next table had said.

  “Bimbo,” someone muttered, their tone hot with anger.

  “Always attention seeking,” someone else said. The comments made me travel back to our school days. Crystal had been popular at school, eventually, but the girls had all disliked her at first. She was too attractive, too wealthy, too intimidating. Until she broke the ice with a corny joke and people realised she was just like them.

  “I’m right,” she said, her voice solid. “Aren’t I, Ms Salt?”

  Kathi Salt glanced down at the podium as if she was fact checking something, then returned her gaze to the audience. “It’s my deepest, deepest sadness to confirm that Mr Snipe is no longer with us.”

  11

  Violet

  A collective intake of breath filled the air.

  I did the same as everyone else, despite the news not being new to me.

  “He was killed, wasn’t he?” Crystal called out. “We have a right to know. We’re all in danger.”

  Kathi Salt glared at Crystal from the stage. There was little that a Winifred’s teacher disliked more than being taken off schedule by a problem student.

  “It would appear that the circumstances of the death may suggest foul play,” Kathi Salt said.

  “She should be a politician,” I murmured. “Dodging the question.”

  “He was stabbed,” Crystal shouted, her final revelation, before she collapsed back into her chair as if the vision had exhausted her.

  At this, the room descended into panic. People began to gather together belongings and stampede towards the doors, which they found had been locked.

  “We’re locked in!”

  “Open this door immediately, or my father will be hearing about this!”

  “We’re all going to die!”

  “He’ll have your jobs, all of them!”

  I watched the scene and waited for someone to take charge. A room full of terrified and outraged witches was not a good situation. It would be out of control within minutes, and then there’d be no telling what might happen.

  “We have to do something,” I said.

  “We should have got out of here before they locked the doors,” Crystal said with a pout. “Look at this chaos!”

  “It’s only chaos because of your vision,” Ellie said.

  Crystal shrugged. “They had a right to know.”

  “You’re right, they did,” I agreed. “ But somebody needs to take charge of this situation before it gets out of hand.”

  I surveyed the room with my gaze. Several former students had crumpled into heaps on the floor, their faces soggy with tears. Kathi Salt, who only addressed an audience when they were perfectly silent, remained at the podium, hard faced and waiting.

  “Violet, you can do it,” Ellie said. “Take charge. Go on.”

  “Me?” I asked with a blink.

  She took a deep breath. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this, but tonight was for you to be awarded the Golden Sceptre. Everyone else knows that but Mr Snipe was telling people not to let you find out.”

  “So that’s why people have been acting bizarrely, congratulating me all night?” I asked.

  Ellie nodded.

  “Well,” I said as I felt my cheeks burn crimson. “It’s very touching but I don’t see why I would get that award. Or what it has to do with the situation we’re in now.”

  “Don’t you see?” Ellie said. “It’s all about posture. Someone needs to take charge and everyone’s here to celebrate you. You’re the obvious person.”

  “I really don’t know,” I began, as a young woman started to wail from behind me. The noise, like nails being dragged down a blackboard, went through me.

  “Go on, Violet, we could help,” Crystal urged.

  I looked at Ellie. Her face had blanched. “You’ll help too?”

  “Well…” she hesitated, “I’m not sure I have anything to offer.”

  “I won’t do it alone,” I said.

  “Okay,” Ellie agreed. “I’ll help. If you think I can.”

  “My dear, you see vultures. You can do much more than you think.” I said with a wink, then made me way through the room to the podium. Kathi Salt, stunned, prised the microphone in her hands as if she feared I would snatch it away from her.

  I gave her a withering smile. I’d never liked the woman.

  “Your attention please!” I called, in the stern voice that was usually kept reserved for my sister. Gradually, the noise calmed and people turned to face me. “We’re in a very serious situation and it’s vital that we don’t panic.”

  “The headmaster’s been killed!” A young woman cried in a way that suggested she was enjoying the chance to be dramatic. “Of course we should panic!”

  “This much magic in a closed room with high emotions?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. I saw realisation descend across the room. Laboured breathing began to calm, tears were wiped away, composure swept across the room like a gust of wind. “That’s better, let’s stay calm for all of our sakes.”

  “So… we… just… what? Wait?” An older man with an elaborate moustache called as he leaned on a walking frame.

  “No, not at all,” I said. “We take charge. I’ll be leading the investigation. I’ll speak to people, take statements, so that when the weather clears and the Magick Squad arrive, they’ll have a neat and tidy case to take on.”

  Several people laughed at the suggestion of the Magick Squad doing any work.

  “But where will you start? Do you have a suspect?” A timid voice called from the crowd, who were gradually returning to their seats and pouring water to clear their heads.

  “You’ll appreciate that I can’t answer that,” I said. “But several clues were found by Mr Snipe’s… body.”

  Kathi Salt’s eyes bore into me until I was forced to look across at her. She gripped the podium but I could see that her hands were shaking. She looked down at the ground and for a moment I could almost see a crack in the perfect veneer of her painted face.

  “I’ll interview people one by one in the production booth, and I’d ask that people don’t discuss what’s happened,” I said. It was a hopeless request, but I felt I ought to make it. Of course they’d discuss what’s happened. They were unlikely to be able to think about anything else.

  “Alphabetical order?”

  “Shall we line up?”

  “Has the production booth been cleaned lately?”

  I rolled my eyes. The production booth, used to control the sounds and lighting for performances, probably hadn’
t been cleaned since my days as a student. It was a dark hole of a room with a small window that looked out over the grand dining hall. There were rumours that it was haunted, that the ghost of the first sound technician came out every full moon and bludgeoned to death whoever he came across. I’d been personally offended that people at a magic school believed such nonsense.

  “Let’s have the alcohol removed,” I said, and with a click of my fingers the bottles of wine danced themselves up from the tables and away into the kitchens. “We all need clear heads tonight.”

  “I need the toilet,” someone whined.

  “Let me remind you all that we are in the middle of a murder investigation,” I said, my voice sharp. This tone was reserved for the annoying teenagers who trespassed across my garden back home. I could run out into the garden and pretend to be a fierce old lady as good as anyone. “I will expect your full co-operation.”

  12

  Ellie

  I stood by the window and watched the island’s trees twist and bow violently in the storm. The gales roared against the building; furious, unforgiving. Streams of raindrops battered against the window.

  The occasional light from the mainland flickered in the distance, distorted by the rain.

  Nobody would be outside in such weather.

  Usually the idea of battening down the hatches and retreating indoors in bad weather was a comfort to me, a throwback to my childhood when a storm had meant an evening of watching films and cuddling in bed next to my mother.

  This storm brought no comfort.

  We weren’t retreating into the warmth. We weren’t turning the storm into a game and closing the weather out.

  We were isolated.

  Trapped.

  And in danger.

  13

  Violet

  “Violet,” Kathi Salt purred, venom in her tone, as I walked towards the stage steps.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s honourable, really it is, but I have to say it isn’t appropriate for you to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Question people, take on a little investigation,” she said, voice dripping with patronisation. “This isn’t a game, you know? It’s not a chance to play Hercule Poirot, for goodness sakes.”

  I gave her a stiff smile and took the chance to glance at the roots of her hair. Her blond hair was natural, it would appear.

  “I’m certainly aware of that,” I said. “The night was getting away from everyone. Someone had to take charge.”

  “And you’ll agree that that’s my job,” she seethed.

  “And yet you didn’t do it,” I replied. “I had to.”

  She let out a sigh. “Emotions are running high, I do understand that. You came for your award and, of course, that’s not going to happen now. I’m sure you’re disappointed.”

  “What are you talking about? I couldn’t care less about the award. I came here for the same reason as everyone else. To be nosy! To see what was happening to the school.”

  “That moron was running it into the ground, that’s what was happening,” Kathi said, then caught herself and gave a weak smile. “I guess he won’t be able to do that any more at least.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “You think Sid Snipe was…”

  “Violet,” Kathi said, her voice as chilly as the temperature outside. “I have to investigate this myself. It’s really honourable that you’d want to but I can’t allow it.”

  “Let’s put it to a vote.”

  “Fine,” she said, and sauntered back across to the podium. She cleared her throat quietly and began her usual inane show of waiting for silence.

  I rolled my eyes, stuck two fingers in my mouth and gave out a piercing whistle. The room fell silent immediately.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Kathi began. “Ms Warren has raised some very sensible concerns about moving forward with her plan to investigate. This is, of course, a Winifred’s matter and we feel it is only right that Winifred’s staff deal with it. I’m prepared to take on this burden, for the school.”

  “What we actually said,” I interrupted, “is that we should put it to a vote. So, if you want Kathi Salt to investigate, put your hand up.”

  There was no movement among the audience and Kathi let out an awkward laugh. “Put your hand up now, Ms Warren means.”

  Nobody did.

  “And if you’d like me to investigate, you can put your hand up now,” I said. A sea of arms were raised and I resisted the temptation to gloat. “I’ll begin the questioning shortly.”

  I left the stage and walked away from Kathi Salt, fury radiating off her in waves.

  As I walked through the tables, I was aware of the crowd’s eyes boring into me, trusting me to reveal the killer sat amongst them. I’d taken some foolish risks in my time, made some silly decisions, but I’d never volunteered to solve a murder before.

  “I need a few moments,” I said, to nobody in particular, and went to the door. I took a deep breath and muttered a spell under my breath, my eyes closed. The lock turned and the doors burst open. “I’m asking everyone to remain in this room. You’ll be safer if you do.”

  The school was eerily quiet as I made my way back towards Sid Snipe’s office.

  I stood in the doorway and forced myself to look around the room. Thanks to Ellie, we had three clues - the lipstick, the single black hair and the distinctive pen.

  I went to Sid’s desk and sat in his chair. He had always kept a neat desk but as I looked at the chaos in front of me, I wondered if that had been more Helen’s work than his own. Papers were strewn everywhere and the top drawer was so full that it refused to close.

  I began to pick up sheets of paper. His handwriting was illegible, but several pages were typed. Memos from other staff members, minutes from meetings, unopened post. It would take all night to make any sense of all the documents lying around. Gone were the days of Sid having a single in-tray that was dealt with and filed away each day.

  I let out a sigh and approached Sid’s body. He, of course, hadn’t moved since I’d last looked over him.

  “What happened to you, Mr Snipe?” I asked. “You’ve got yourself into some real trouble this time, hey?”

  With a sad smile, I left the room and returned to the dining hall.

  “Miss Warren, have you decided whether you’re starting with A or Z?” A pleasant looking woman in a tweed jacket asked. She appeared to have misread the invitation as being business dress not black tie. “I just don’t know whether I’ll be first or last.”

  “Well, no, it won’t be alphabetical at all,” I said. It would make no sense to interview people in such a random order. “Do you feel you have information I need to know?”

  “None at all,” she said, her cheeks crimson. “I really liked Mr Snipe, I’d never have hurt him!”

  “I’m not accusing you, girl,” I said. “You could have seen something. Heard something. I was simply asking if there’s a reason you should be high on my list.”

  “Definitely not,” she said, her fear transforming to offence. “I have nothing at all to tell you.”

  “Very well,” I said. I left the woman and returned to my own table. Ellie and Crystal sat in silence. “Ellie?”

  She looked up at me.

  “I need you to search Sid’s study, see what you can find out. Use your powers,” I coaxed. She nodded.

  Crystal leaned in. “What can I do?”

  “Stay here and be my ears,” I said. “See what people are saying. Watch who looks shifty. Tell me what you find out.”

  Crystal nodded but Ellie looked unsure.

  “What am I looking for in Sid’s office?”

  “Anything that stands out,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve got no more idea about this than you have, I’m afraid. His desk’s a mess.”

  Behind me, a woman cleared her throat. I turned to look at her, all wobbly curves and fur jacket. She reeked of alcohol.

  “Yes?”

  “You’ll be wanting to speak to
me first,” she said.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Lizette Anderson-Pugh,” she slurred and held out a hand. I gave it a quick shake. “I’m Sid’s widow.”

  “Ah,” I said, stunned. I had no idea that Sid had a wife, and I certainly wouldn’t have expected to see her at a school function. Winifred’s was suspicious of outsiders and famously never invited the partners of staff to any events. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “You’ve got experience of solving murders, then? What are you, a cop?”

  “No, not at all,” I said. “I’m an artist.”

  “Oh, fabulous! You hear this, y’all? She’s an artist! She’ll be able to draw us a pretty picture of the crime scene!” Lizette shouted. A few people gave awkward laughs. Kathi Salt smirked from the stage, where it appeared she had taken up residence.

  “That’s enough,” a voice came. I turned to see Bryan Derby, the necromancy teacher, rise from his seat a few tables away. Several staff members followed suit. “Ms Warren deserves your respect. Leave her to do her work.”

  “Thanks,” I said, with a quick nod of my head. The staff remained standing, in unison, until Lizette had staggered back to her seat and collapsed into it. She reached into her clutch bag and pulled out a hip flask, took a thirsty sip, and rubbed her temple.

  The whole thing made me uncomfortable. She was a new widow and yet she was friendless in this room. She was country, and not self-aware enough to hide it. All the furs in the world couldn’t hide her lack of class, and if there was anything that Winifred’s hated more than outsiders in general, it was an outsider with no class who dared to behave like an insider.

  “So, y’all ready for me?” Lizette asked as her eyes snapped back open. “It’s always the wife, or so they say. Where d’ya want me?”

  “I won’t be questioning you yet,” I said. “I’d suggest you drink some water and I’ll be ready for you soon.”

  She snorted. I nodded to Ellie, who took the opportunity to slip out of the room unnoticed. Crystal sat poised, ready to listen and learn.