Witch Is Why The Music Stopped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 19)

by Adele Abbott

I doubted she’d ever come to terms with the idea that her husband was working as a grim reaper.

  “The twins said you wanted to see me.”

  “Actually, it’s Barry who wants to see you.”

  “Oh? What about?”

  “I think I should let him tell you. He’s asleep upstairs. He had a long walk this morning.”

  “Barry!”

  The sound of snoring was deafening.

  “Barry!”

  “What? Where?” He jumped up, but was obviously still half asleep. “Who did it?”

  “It’s me.”

  He was trying hard to focus. “Jill? I was having a lovely dream about a squirrel.”

  “Were you chasing it?”

  “No. We were playing snakes and ladders.”

  “Right. Aunt Lucy said you wanted to see me.”

  “Yeah! This is so exciting.” He spun around and around in circles.

  “Slow down! What’s so exciting?”

  “The competition, of course. I’m going to win it. First prize.”

  “What competition is that?”

  He walked over to the corner of the room, and then returned with a newspaper in his mouth. It was a week-old copy of The Candle.

  “I want to enter, Jill. The first prize is a year’s supply of Barkies.”

  No wonder he was so keen; he was crazy about Barkies. It was a competition to find the best photo of a pet dog.

  “Can I enter, Jill? Can I? Please can I enter?”

  “Sure, why not?” I took out my phone. “I’ll take a photo now and send it in.”

  “No!” He raised a paw.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No offence, Jill, but are you a professional photographer?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “I’m never going to win with just any old photo. I need a photograph taken by a professional.”

  “I wouldn’t know where—”

  “Here.” He pushed a small business card towards me; it was for a company called Canine Shoots.

  “This looks expensive.”

  “Please, Jill. You spend a lot of money on Hamlet. I really want this. Please!”

  “Okay. I’ll give them a call.”

  “Thank you, Jill.” He launched himself at me. “I’m going to win those Barkies.”

  I was such a soft touch.

  Once I was outside, I called the number on the card.

  “Canine Shoots, Terry Eyre speaking.”

  Terrier? Seriously? “Hi, I’m enquiring about getting a photo of my dog. It’s for the competition in The Candle.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve done a lot of photos for that competition already.”

  “Good. I was wondering if you could tell me how much it would cost?”

  He did, and it looked like I was going to need a second job to pay for it.

  Chapter 15

  Back at the office, Jules was all by herself.

  “No Mrs V?”

  “She and Armi have gone to Grimsby.”

  “Oh? Any particular reason?”

  “Apparently, Armi is interested in fishing trawlers, and he’s arranged for the two of them to go out on one today.”

  “On a fishing trawler? Aren’t they rather smelly? I don’t think I’d fancy that.”

  “Me neither. Annabel didn’t seem very keen, but she didn’t want to disappoint Armi.”

  “It’s really windy today, too. I don’t think I’d want to go to sea on a day like this.”

  “She said she’d bring us back some haddock.”

  “Nice. How’s the Chameleon Wool going?”

  “It’s fine now.” Jules held up a multi-coloured sock. “It looks like your grandmother must have sorted out the teething problems.”

  “Did you collect my lottery winnings?” Winky was on my case as soon as I walked into the office.

  “I’m really sorry. I forgot.”

  “How could you forget my five thousand pounds?”

  “I’ve been really busy, but I promise I’ll get it in the morning.”

  “Swear on your muffins.”

  “Don’t you start with that.”

  I made a phone call to Hotel Lexicon, the hotel in Brighton where Brendan Bowlings had spent the weekend while his wife was away at her sister’s. The call proved to be a waste of time because they wouldn’t answer any of my questions. If I wanted to get any information, I would have to pay them a visit.

  “Your accountant is here.” Jules’ voice came through the intercom. “He says he isn’t here on business.”

  “Send him in please, Jules.”

  Luther looked so much happier than the last time I’d seen him.

  “I just wanted to come by and thank you, Jill. Whatever you said to Maria, it did the trick.”

  “You’re back together?”

  “Yes. She contacted me out of the blue, and said she’d like to give it another go. I couldn’t be happier. How did you manage it?”

  “It wasn’t difficult. She already knew what a great guy you are.”

  “Now you’re making me blush.”

  “It’s true. It was just a case of cold feet.”

  “Well, whatever you said or did, I’m really grateful. Your next two monthly accounting sessions will be on the house.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “I insist.”

  “Okay, then. If you’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Result! That should pay for Barry’s photographs.

  “When are you seeing Maria again?”

  “At the weekend. We went out last night, and had a great time. And, I discovered something about her I didn’t know.”

  Oh dear.

  “Apparently, she used to be a smoker. I had no idea until I spotted the patch on her arm. I’m glad she decided to give it up. Smoking really is bad for you.”

  “From what I hear, those patches work wonders.”

  ***

  Luther’s mention of the patches had reminded me that there was someone else I needed to have a talk with.

  WashBets was at the far end of the high street, in between the Sushi Bar and the dry cleaners. I’d never set foot inside a betting shop before—it was quite an experience. A dozen or more men, most of them middle-aged, were glued to the various TV screens on the wall. Some of them watched in silence, chewing their nails. Others screamed at the horses on screen—urging them on.

  “Yeah?” The woman behind the counter looked as though her soul had been sucked out of her body.

  “I’d like to speak to Ryan, please.”

  “The manager?”

  “I guess so.”

  “If it’s a complaint, you need to speak to his assistant, Bryan.”

  “It’s not a complaint. It’s a private matter.”

  “Oh?” For the first time, she showed a flicker of interest. “Are you his girlfriend?”

  “No. Would you tell him it’s about Megan.”

  “Wait there.” She disappeared through one of the doors at the back of the building. Moments later, she reappeared followed by a tall man—a vampire.

  “What’s this about?” He came to the counter. “Is Megan alright?”

  “She’s fine. I just need a quiet word.”

  He gestured to a door on my side of the counter.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded, once we were inside the small office. “Who are you?”

  Ryan was a good-looking guy with a great physique. Not the type I would have expected to use a dating agency. But then I could have said the same about Megan.

  “Megan is my next-door neighbour.”

  “So?”

  “I’m concerned about her. I’ve seen the bruising on her neck.”

  He flinched. “That was—err—I—err—didn’t mean to—err—”

  “Bite her? It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

  “She’s the first human I’ve dated.”

  “A good looking guy like you? I find that hard to believe.�
��

  “It’s true. I’ve dated a few vampires since I moved to the human world, but Megan is the first human. I met her through Love Bites. It’s a—”

  “I know what it is.”

  “I never thought that dating a human would be so difficult. The temptation is way greater than I thought it would be.”

  “So, you bit her and drank her blood?”

  “It was only the once, and I only had a sip. When she screamed, it brought me to my senses and I stopped straight away.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t report you to the police, or at least dump you.”

  “I told her it was a love bite, and that I’d got carried away. I feel really guilty about it.”

  “You should have called the relationship off.”

  “I know, but I really do like Megan. She’s a great girl. Are you going to call in the rogue retrievers?”

  “I should.” I was unsure what to do. He did seem genuinely sorry for what he’d done. “Here. Take these.” I handed him the box. “Use these patches. They should help to control the urge, but if they don’t, then you’ll have to call it off.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I will.”

  “I’ll be watching Megan, and if I see one more cut or bruise on her neck—”

  “You won’t. I promise.”

  ***

  Using magic to get around the human world wasn’t something I normally liked to do, but I was so busy that I didn’t have time to drive all the way to Brighton and back.

  Usually when I magicked myself somewhere, it was back and forth between the human and sup worlds, or it was relatively short distances in Candlefield. This was a much bigger ask. To do it, I had to bring up a map on screen, so that I could get an idea of exactly how far I needed to travel, and where I wanted to end up.

  I was all set. If it worked as planned, I would land in a quiet alleyway just off the promenade. Here goes nothing.

  “What the—?”

  Great! That worked out just swell. My calculations must have been slightly off because I ended up just beyond the beach, in the English Channel. Fortunately, the water only came up to my calves, so I was able to paddle back up to dry land.

  “You should have taken your shoes off.” A young boy making sandcastles shared those words of wisdom with me.

  The well-dressed woman, behind the reception desk in the Lexicon, gave me a puzzled look as I squelched my way towards her.

  “Good afternoon, Madam. Can I help?”

  “I’d like to see the manager, please.”

  “What’s it in connection with?”

  “I’m—” At this point I deliberately mumbled the words, ‘working with’, then reverted to my normal voice. “The police.”

  “Police?” She looked doubtful, but said, “I’ll go and get him. Please take a seat over there.”

  A few minutes later, she returned with a tall man in tow. He was smartly dressed, and was wearing shoes which were so shiny that I could see my face in them.

  “I’m Rupert Bales, the manager. Karen tells me that you’re a police officer.” He glanced down at my shoes which were dripping water all over the polished floor. “Could I see your credentials?”

  “Credentials?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “And I’ll be happy to answer them after I’ve seen your ID.”

  “Of course.” I handed him my business card.

  “This says you’re a private investigator. Why did you tell my receptionist that you were a police officer?”

  “I said I was working with the police. She must have misunderstood.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “I only need you to—”

  “Right now, or I will call the real police.”

  That had gone remarkably well. Perhaps it was the wet feet that had given me away?

  No matter. I’d tried the polite approach. Now, it was time for a little magic.

  An hour later, I had everything I needed. All it had taken was an ‘invisible’ spell; the rest had been easy. In fact, the only reason it had taken that long was because I’d had to sit for fifteen minutes with my feet in the sun. There would have been no point to being invisible if I had left a trail of wet footprints behind me.

  While the receptionist had been busy with a customer, I’d sneaked into the room marked ‘private’. That’s where they kept all their CCTV equipment. I had become something of an expert with the old CCTV, and I soon found the coverage for the date in question. Then I slowed it down a little, and studied all the guests’ faces as they came to the reception desk. Just as the time stamp skipped past the midday mark, I spotted them. Brendan Bowlings was checking in, and behind him was another familiar face: Sarah Weller—his secretary.

  Eureka!

  It now seemed clear that Bowlings had been having an affair with his secretary. Had he also staged his own disappearance? Did Sarah Weller plan to join him later? I intended to find out.

  ***

  My return trip to Washbridge proved to be much more successful. Just as planned, I landed close to the car park where I’d left my car that morning.

  Jen was on her driveway when I arrived home. I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d been waiting to catch me because she came racing over.

  “Everything okay, Jen?”

  “Yeah, fine. I just thought I’d say hello.”

  “I imagine you heard our new neighbour last night?”

  “Yeah. It woke me and Blake. Who are they?”

  “It’s a young guy. He’s a student at Washbridge College. He’s assured me it was a one-off.”

  “Good.” She hesitated, and I could tell she had something on her mind. “You remember the other day when we were talking about blogs and stuff?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just thought I should make it clear that I don’t blog.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just in case you thought I did. Because I don’t.”

  “Right. Thanks for clearing that up.”

  “And in particular, I don’t blog about magic. Or wizards.”

  “Okay.”

  “I thought it best to tell you.”

  “Right.”

  Oh boy.

  ***

  “You cannot be serious!” Jack sat up in bed.

  I was already awake.

  If anything, the music coming from next door was even louder than the night before.

  “There are loads of them out here.” Jack had beaten me to the window.

  It was just after two in the morning.

  “I’m not standing for this!” I grabbed a T-shirt.

  “Wait, Jill! I don’t want you going around there. It could turn nasty.”

  “Trust me, it will, when I get hold of that little worm.”

  “No, Jill. Let me handle this in the morning.”

  “What’s wrong with now?”

  “Drink will have been flowing. There’s no way to reason with people when they’re drunk. I’ll go around there first thing in the morning, and read them the riot act.”

  “I still think I should—”

  “Please, Jill. I am a police officer, remember?”

  “Okay.”

  I made us a cup of tea, and we sat and watched some awful TV for the next hour and a half. When the music finally stopped, we managed to catch a little sleep. I’d obviously been too trusting of Mr Worms, but hopefully, Jack would set him straight.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, true to his word, Jack went around to have it out with The Worm. I wanted to go with him, but Jack insisted I’d only make matters worse.

  “How did it go?” I said when he got back.

  “It’s all sorted.”

  “What did The Worm say about last night’s party?”

  “Apparently, it was his best friend’s birthday, and they’d planned to celebrate in the common room at college, but there was some kind of electrical problem.
It was all kind of last minute, and he promised it won’t happen again.”

  “He said there’d be no more parties?”

  “Definitely no more.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Yes, and I think I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

  “I hope so because I’ll be here by myself tonight, seeing as how you’re gallivanting across the country.”

  “I’m not sure a two-day residential assertiveness course qualifies as ‘gallivanting’.”

  “You should have been assertive, and told them you didn’t want to go.”

  “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

  “I think I’ll manage. I’m a big girl.”

  “You should invite Kathy over.”

  “No thanks. I’m looking forward to a quiet night in on my lonesome.”

  ***

  I’d parked the car, and was on my way to the office when I remembered Winky’s lottery ticket. I daren’t forget to collect his winnings again, or I’d never hear the end of it. And besides, I stood to make an easy five hundred pounds on the deal. I called in at the first newsagent’s I came to, and went straight to the counter.

  “I’m here to collect a lottery win.”

  “Congratulations, madam.”

  “It’s not actually mine, it’s—err—I mean, yeah, thanks. It’s five thousand pounds.”

  “Very nice. If you could let me have the ticket, I’ll get it processed for you.”

  “Just a second.” I was sure I’d put the ticket in the little pocket in my handbag, but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen out, and be somewhere in the bottom of the bag. I moved aside to let other customers get to the counter while I began to search. Five minutes later, and there was no sign of it, so I emptied the contents of the bag onto the counter. Ten minutes later, and I still hadn’t found it. The lottery ticket clearly wasn’t in my bag.

  “Problem?” The man behind the counter asked.

  “Err—no. Everything is fine. It must be in my other bag.” I put everything back into the bag, and made my way outside.

  Where was that stupid ticket? I’d used the same handbag all week, so it had to be in there, but it wasn’t.

  Winky was going to kill me.