by Adele Abbott
“Just think of all the free publicity you’ll be missing out on.”
“Don’t pretend you care about that. You’re just annoyed that you won’t be on TV.”
“Come on, Jill. This could be your big break. Just think of all the people who started off on reality TV, and went on to have a career in show business. Have you actually turned it down yet?”
“No. I promised to let Rhonda have my answer within a couple of weeks.”
“You have to do it. If only for my sake.”
Twenty minutes later, Mrs V popped her head around the door. Fortunately, Winky was working on the other side of the screen, so she didn’t realise she had a competitor in the decoupage stakes.
“I didn’t think you’d be able to smell the glue so much in here.” She sniffed the air. “Katie and Adam Bell are here to see you.”
“Send them through, would you?”
“Will do. I did offer them both one of my spare facemasks, but they said they’re okay. Would you like one, Jill?”
“No, thanks.”
I’d expected Katie and Adam to be downcast, but they were quite upbeat, under the circumstances.
“Deep down, I think we both knew Mum and Dad were dead,” Katie said.
Adam nodded. “They would never have caused us this kind of worry deliberately. And we never bought into that story about the burglary.”
“Hopefully, this will at least give you some kind of closure,” I said. “What have the police told you? Are the Chases going to be charged with murder?”
“They don’t think they killed Mum and Dad,” Katie said.
“I don’t understand. Why would they go to all the trouble of hiding the bodies, and trying to fake their disappearance, then?”
“From what the police have told us, they believe Mum and Dad fell to their deaths while walking along the cliff path. Apparently, their injuries are consistent with a fall from height. The Chases had been ordered to install warning signs and fences after a previous fatal accident from the same spot, but they’d done nothing about it. They probably feared the caravan park would be closed down if it got out. The police are working on the theory that Norman or his wife discovered our parents’ bodies, but instead of reporting their deaths, they decided to cover it up. By driving the car and caravan back to our parents’ house, they hoped to divert attention away from the caravan park. The police think Mary Chase drove Dad’s car, and Norman followed in his. Then he must have driven them both back.”
“That makes sense. I assume they must have taken back roads to lessen the chance that they’d be picked up by roadside cameras.”
“When they searched the Chases’ home, they found the jewellery that had been taken from our parents’ house. It wasn’t worth much. I suppose they only took it to give credence to the theory that there’d been a burglary.”
“What have the Chases been charged with?”
“So far, obstructing justice and preventing the lawful burial of a body, I believe. There’s a chance they could face charges of corporate manslaughter too.”
“None of that seems sufficient for all the pain and suffering they’ve put you through.”
“We just want to put it all behind us,” Adam said. “As soon as the police have released our parents’ bodies, we’ll arrange the funerals. That will give us closure at long last, and we’ll be able to get on with our lives.”
“We can’t thank you enough, Jill.” Katie wiped a tear from her eye. “If it hadn’t been for you, who knows how long we’d have been left in limbo. We may never have known the truth.”
“I’m delighted I was able to help.”
***
It came as something of a relief to get out of the office and away from the decoupage twins.
I’d agreed to meet with Mad that afternoon to put stage two of Takedown Spooky into action. This morning, though, I planned to talk to Duyew. Given the abruptness with which he’d insisted I drop the case, I expected him to refuse to see me, but I was wrong. When I spoke to him on the phone, he agreed without hesitation, and said I could go straight over to his place.
“Thanks for seeing me at such short notice, Victor.”
“That’s okay. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“I’m really hoping I can persuade you to tell me what was behind the decision to close down the case.”
“I wish I knew.”
“I don’t understand. You must know why you did it.”
“I did it because Royston ordered me to. He called me to his house and gave me a dressing down for overstepping the mark, as he put it.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“He’d always given me a free hand with the Washbridge Penguins, and he let me get on with things. So when the thefts occurred, I thought he’d want me to try and get it sorted—to find out who was behind it and put a stop to it. That’s why I contacted you.”
“I take it that he didn’t know you’d done that?”
“No, but when he found out, that’s when he called me to his house and told me I had to shut down the investigation immediately.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. I tried to ask him, but he told me to get out, and to make sure you were off the case by the end of the day. He said I should pay you double for your inconvenience.”
“There’s something very weird going on, Victor. If you spoke to him again now, do you think he might tell you the reason for shutting down the case?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? For the sake of the kids, we have to find out what’s going on.”
“I can’t speak to Royston because I’m no longer employed by him. He sacked me.”
“When?”
“As soon as I told him that I’d got you to drop the case.”
***
It was clear from what Duyew had told me that there was much more to the Royston case than met the eye. I felt sorry for Duyew. He came across as a genuine guy whose only concern was to do the best for the Washbridge Penguins. Being sacked like that, without a word of explanation, had hit him hard.
I needed to find out what Royston was up to, but there was no point in my trying to set up a meeting with him. I’d tried that before, and it was impossible to get past his gatekeepers and minders. That left me with no choice but to gate-crash.
If his mansion was anything to go by, the man had to be minted big time. He’d obviously invested a small fortune in security systems, but they proved no obstacle to your favourite superstar witch.
What? It’s time I stopped hiding my light under a bushel. Sidebar: what is a bushel anyway?
Having used a combination of the ‘invisible’, ‘shrink’ and ‘levitate’ spells, I’d managed to gain access, first to the grounds, and then into the house itself. I wasn’t sure if Royston was at home, but I found it hard to believe they’d maintain that level of security if he wasn’t.
All I needed to do now was to locate the man himself. Given the size of the house, that might have taken a long time, had I not fallen lucky. I’d overheard one of the security guards, who was built like a gorilla, speaking into the walkie-talkie fastened to his jacket lapel.
“Kitchen, this is Secure Twelve, come in.”
“Kitchen here.”
“The boss wants his usual in the Grey Room. And make it snappy.”
“Copy that.”
The kitchen was likely to be located on the ground floor, and that would be easier to find than Royston.
Still invisible, I rushed around until I’d located it. I arrived there just in the nick of time because a middle-aged man was just coming out of the door, carrying a silver tray. On it was a cup of coffee and a bacon cob.
I quickly reversed the ‘invisible’ spell, and then stepped out in front of the man.
“I’ll take that.” I took hold of the tray.
“Who are you?”
“I’ve just come from the Grey Room. Mr Royston was fed up of waiting, so he sent me to see
where this was.”
“But we only received his order a few minutes ago.”
“I know. He’s in a bad mood.” I made as if to walk away, but then hesitated. “This is going to sound daft, but I only started here yesterday. How do I get back to the Grey Room?”
“It’s on the second floor. Wait a minute. Who did you say you are?”
That was my cue to shrink him and send him to sleep. After placing him into my pocket, I used the ‘doppelganger’ spell to make myself look like the waiter, and then I headed up to the second floor.
Most of the doors weren’t marked, but about halfway along the corridor, I came across one with a nameplate: The Blue Room. A few doors further along, was the Green Room. Finally, at the very far end of the corridor, I found the Grey Room. There were raised voices coming from inside, so I used the ‘listen’ spell to hear what was being said.
“Of course Rhodesy did it!” The angry man was clearly exasperated. “Who else would it be? I won’t stand for it. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“I want him taken care of, and I want it done today!”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll give the order.”
“It should have been done before now. I don’t understand why you had to wait for me to come back to tell you what to do. What exactly am I paying you for?”
“Sorry, Sir, I’ll get straight onto it.”
Although I couldn’t see who was in the room, it was a pretty safe bet that the ‘Boss’ must be Royston, and he clearly wasn’t happy about something.
“Hey, you!” The voice came from behind me. It was another one of the security gorillas. “What are you doing?”
“Mr Royston ordered this.”
He glanced at the tray. “You’d better take it in, then.” He opened the door for me, and I had no choice but to step inside the room.
This was the first time I’d seen Royston in the flesh; he was much uglier than the photos I’d seen in the newspapers. Seated behind a huge desk, he had a cigar in one hand and a knife in the other. The weaselly looking man standing in front of the desk looked terrified. I wasn’t sure if that was because of the dressing-down he’d just received, or because of the knife. Probably both.
“Bring those here!” Royston shouted at me.
“Yes, Sir.” He ignored me as I walked across the room. He was much too busy venting his anger at the poor weasel. “And when are those replacements going to arrive? They were supposed to be here yesterday.”
The weasel swallowed hard. “There’s been a delay, Boss.”
“Do you know how much money I’m losing? I want them delivered today. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“I’m not sure if that’s going to be possible.”
“I don’t want to hear any more excuses. Just get it sorted!”
I’d already dawdled as long as I dared, so I made my way back out of the room.
The weasel followed, and once we were out of earshot of the room, he mumbled under his breath, “Damn stupid penguins.”
“Having a bad day?” I said.
“None of your business! Get lost!”
“Sorry.”
Before I left the house, I woke the waiter, restored him to full size and then wiped his memory.
Now all I had to do was to make some sense of what I’d just overheard.
Chapter 25
On the drive back to the city centre, I kept going over what I’d heard in the Grey Room. Royston had seemed particularly unhappy about someone called Rhodesy, which I assumed to be a nickname for somebody with the name Rhodes.
Royston had given orders for Rhodesy to be taken care of—whatever that meant—chances were, it was nothing good. Royston had also berated the weasel because the delivery of the replacements was running late. Based on what I’d heard the weasel say when he came out of the room, I was pretty sure that referred to the soft toy penguins, which were to replace those stolen. Stolen by Rhodesy, perhaps? Maybe that’s what Royston had meant when he’d said that Rhodesy was behind it.
Like everything else related to this case, none of that made any sense. Why would anyone want to steal a load of toy penguins? And why would a successful businessman like Royston concern himself with something so trivial? I was obviously missing something, but what? I couldn’t help but feel that the key to cracking this case was those soft toys. And I knew someone who knew a thing or two about those.
***
“That screen is looking fabulous, Winky.” I gushed. “I love what you’ve done with it.”
He stared at me for the longest moment before saying, “Are you feeling okay? Have you had a knock on the head or something?”
“I’m feeling fine. You really do have a flair for this de-coo-thingy.”
“Decoupage. Thanks. I’m quite pleased with it so far.”
“Have you had any salmon, yet?”
“You gave it to me earlier.”
“So I did. Would you like some more?”
“Okay.” He stopped with the decoupage. “What’s this all about? You want something, don’t you?”
“Whatever makes you think that?” I snorted.
“Spit it out. What is it?”
“Well, now that you mention it, there is a little something.”
“I knew it. How little?”
“I was thinking about those mini-Winkys that you made a while ago. They were so cute.”
“That’s not what you said at the time. I seem to remember you made me shut down my production line.”
“I think you must be misremembering. Anyway, the point is, you obviously have a flair for making soft toys.”
“They were pretty spectacular, even if I do say so myself.”
“I agree. And with your experience and expertise, I don’t imagine it would be too difficult to turn your hand to making other kinds of soft toys. Say, err—penguins, for example.”
“Now we’re getting to it. This is all to do with that weirdo case you’re working on, isn’t it?”
“Sort of. Although I’m not officially working on it any longer.”
“Why do you need the toys, then?”
“Let’s just say I’m doing it for the kids. That’s why I know you’ll want to help me.”
“I hate kids.”
“You don’t mean that. The thing is, I need some small soft toy penguins making. Pronto.”
“How many?”
“A hundred. Two-hundred would be better.”
“How pronto?”
“I need them by tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” He almost choked. “That’s a joke, I take it?”
“No, I’m deadly serious.”
“How do you expect me to make a hundred—”
“Two-hundred, ideally.”
“How am I supposed to make them by tomorrow?”
“You were churning out way more mini-Winkys than that.”
“Yes, but I’d need to retool to make penguins.”
“You can do it. I have every confidence in you. Pretty please.”
“It’s a massive ask.”
“With sugar on top.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“I can’t afford to pay you because I’m doing this work pro bono.”
“What about my costs? Materials etc?”
“I bet you still have some lying around somewhere, don’t you?”
“I did put some stuff in Stu the Storage’s lock-up.”
“There you are, then.”
“I still think I should get something out of the deal.”
“What do you want?”
“How about if I do this, you allow me to decoupage your desk?”
“I—err—okay, then. But only if you deliver the penguins by tomorrow morning.”
“Deal.”
***
I’d arranged to meet Mad at what had until yesterday been the offices and studios of Spooky TV.
She checked her watch. “Dayton should be here in about thirty minutes.”
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“What exactly do you need me to do?”
“So far, all we have is the word of the two Georges, and that won’t count for anything back in GT. I need you to get her to incriminate herself on camera.” She pointed to the filing cabinet. “I’ve set one up over there, so provided she’s standing next to this desk, we should capture everything she does and says.”
“Right. That should be straightforward enough.”
“Not necessarily. When I got George to call her yesterday, he was really nervous, and it’s possible she may have picked up on that. If she did, she’ll be on her guard.”
“Where will you be?”
“Through the back. I’ll be able to see and hear everything that happens from there.”
Once Mad had left me to it, I used the ‘doppelganger’ spell to make myself look like George One.
Dayton made her appearance dead on time. Dead? Get it? Come on, this stuff is priceless.
What? No I don’t mean worthless.
Tall with snow white hair, Dayton strolled across the floor like she owned the place, but for all I knew, she might have done.
“Where’s that ugly sidekick of yours?” she demanded.
“He’s just nipped out for a sandwich. He might be a while because he’s only just left,” I said.
“I don’t have time to waste waiting for that loser to come back. You’d better tell me what’s so urgent that I had to visit this dump.”
“Once you know why we asked you to come, you’ll see it was worthwhile.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Now, are you going to tell me or am I supposed to guess?”
“We had a visitor yesterday: A woman called Justine Case.”
“Who?”
“Justine Case.”
“That sounds made up to me.”
“She’s the commissioning editor for Max TV who are one of—”
“I know who they are. What did she want?”
“She’s seen our movies and she really rates them.”
“So now we know the woman has no taste. What else did she have to say?”