by Adele Abbott
I used my own phone to make the call, and just as Lou had predicted, I had to battle my way through an automated menu system. Even when I’d succeeded in doing that, I still didn’t get to speak to a human being. Instead, I was forced to record a message. I figured I’d have more chance of getting a return call if I said I was interested in renting the vacant flat I’d seen on my previous visit.
“That was very crafty of you.” Lou grinned.
“When they call back, I won’t let them go until they promise to sort out your boiler.”
“Thanks, Jill. Are you sure you won’t have a biscuit? I have lots to choose from.”
***
I’d spent longer at the flats than I’d intended, and now had no chance of making it to Middle Tweaking Theatre on time by car. That left me with no option other than to magic myself over there. Unfortunately, I didn’t know where the theatre was, so I decided to aim for Myrtle Turtle’s back garden, which I knew from my previous visit, was secluded.
“Jill?” Myrtle, who was watering her plants, gave me a puzzled look. “Where did you come from?”
“I—err—came through the house. I hope you don’t mind. I did knock, but there was no answer.”
“I didn’t hear you. How did you get into the house?”
“Err, the door was ajar.”
“Really? I must be getting careless in my old age. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“Actually, I’m looking for the theatre. I didn’t notice it on any of my previous visits.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s actually located just outside the village. It’s an old church hall that has been converted. What’s your interest in it?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Why don’t I walk you down there, and you can tell me on the way?”
“Thanks, that would be great.”
As we made our way through the village, I gave Myrtle the Cliff Notes version of clown wars.
“You get involved in some very peculiar cases, Jill.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” I glanced over at the church, which was covered in scaffolding. “What’s going on over there?”
“The bells needed replacing; they were too dangerous to leave in place any longer. It’s proving to be a very long job, though.”
“What’s the delay?”
“Money, as always. We managed to raise enough to get the old bells removed, but we’re a long way short of being able to buy the replacements.”
About ten minutes after Myrtle had left me at the doors of the theatre, PomPom and his clowns arrived in his minibus.
“Did you find it okay?” I (AKA Trudy Lewchuse) said.
“I got lost a couple of times, but I’m here now.”
“How many clowns have you brought with you?” I glanced into the back of the minibus.
“Seven. I had hoped to get a couple more, but it was rather short notice.”
“No problem. If you could ask them to make their way to the dressing room, then you and I can go through to the auditorium.”
“I’m confident you’re going to enjoy today’s performance, Trudy.”
So was I, but probably not for the reason that PomPom expected.
A few minutes later, PomPom and I had taken our seats in the theatre.
“Are you ready, Trudy?”
“I was born ready.”
“Great.” PomPom took out his phone and made a call. “Ding Dong? We’re ready for you now.” With the call ended, he turned to me. “I think you’ll like Ding Dong. He’s one of our most popular clowns.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I couldn’t fault Ding Dong’s entrance; he did a series of backflips onto the stage. Once there, he went into his main act. Behind him there were a number of handbells, which he began to play—very badly. One deliberate ‘mishap’ followed another. First, one of the handles fell off. Next, he dropped one of the bells onto his foot.
“What do you think so far?” PomPom whispered.
“Not bad.”
“Just wait until you see the big finale.”
That finale required Ding Dong to attach a bell to each foot and hand, and another to the top of his head.
“What’s he doing?”
“He plays the wedding march. It took him years to master it.”
With all five bells attached, he began to gyrate.
The forlorn look on poor Ding Dong’s face when the bells refused to ring, was a picture.
“I can’t hear anything,” I said to PomPom, all innocent-like.
“I don’t understand it.” PomPom looked mightily confused. “I’ve seen him do this act a dozen times, and he’s always nailed it.”
“It’s a bit of an anti-climax, isn’t it?”
“Thank you, Ding Dong.” PomPom waved the despondent clown off the stage.
Little did either of them know that I’d used magic to silence the bells.
Snigger.
And so it continued. The second act was Bubbles whose bubble machine refused to produce a single bubble. Then came String Bean who was billed as the world’s tallest clown. Unfortunately for him, one of his stilts broke halfway through the act. Rhubarb and custard were a double act who threw custard pies at one another. That fell flat because neither of them could land one on the other’s face no matter how many times they tried.
By now, PomPom was clearly embarrassed, but he tried to put on a brave face.
“I saved the best until last. You’ll love Spins.”
“I hope so.”
Spins’ act involved plates and poles. His failed attempts to keep the plates spinning on the poles were designed to have the audience in stitches. And for the first few minutes, all seemed to be going well.
“Didn’t I tell you?” PomPom said. “Audiences love him.”
But then something strange happened: The plates stopped falling. Spins was obviously thrown by this unexpected turn of events. He watched, and he watched, and he continued to watch while the plates seemingly defied gravity.
“Thank you, Spins.” PomPom signalled for him to call it quits.
As soon as the clown was off the stage, I reversed the spell, and all of the plates crashed to the floor.
By now, PomPom looked more than a little defeated.
“I’m sorry about that, Trudy. I don’t know what happened today.”
“I do.”
“Sorry?”
“I know what happened today. Someone sabotaged your acts.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so because I was the one who did it.”
He stared at me, clearly unsure if he should take me seriously. “You? Why?”
“Because I could. And because you did the same to your competitor, Clown.”
“Did Jimmy and Kimmy put you up to this?”
“I am working for them, yes.”
“This is outrageous. I have a good mind to—err—”
“To what? Report it to the police? I don’t think that will work out very well for you, considering that you’re guilty of doing the exact same thing.”
“Why bother with all of this charade today?”
“I wanted to make sure I had your attention, and that you could see what I am capable of doing to your business.”
“How did you do it? You were sitting next to me all the time.”
“That would be telling. Suffice to say, I’ve done it once and I can do it again. And I will unless you promise not to sabotage Clown again.”
“Okay, okay. I promise.”
“You’d better keep your word because if I hear there’s been any more funny business, there’ll be much worse to come. Funny business? Get it?” I laughed.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.
“I’ll leave them alone. You have my word.”
Chapter 20
I wasn’t expecting this to be an easy meeting, but it had to be done.
I’d magicked myself to Candlefi
eld and tracked down Circus Fantastico who were about to embark on a week of performances on Candlefield Green. The crew were still busy erecting the big top ahead of the first show, which was scheduled for the following day.
“Excuse me,” I said to one of the wizards who was having a rest from the back-breaking work.
“If you’re after free tickets, you’re out of luck, lady.”
“No, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Sorry, I just assumed. As soon as people see us putting up the big top, they start to hover around like bees, trying to scrounge free tickets.”
“I’m actually looking for the clowns.”
“If you’re looking for a job with them, you’re out of luck.” He looked me up and down. “You have one too many eyes, and legs.”
“No, I just need a word with them.”
“They’re over there.” He pointed beyond the big top. “At the far side of the site.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know the name of the head clown, would you?”
“The guy in charge is called Ned. He’s a miserable so and so. For a clown, that is.”
“Thanks.”
I made my way over to the far side of the site where I found the familiar circle of caravans. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be any cycloppers around, but then I spotted two youngsters: a boy and a girl.
“Excuse me, I wonder if you can tell me where I can find Ned?”
“Who are you?” The girl eyed me suspiciously. Her single eye might have freaked some people out but having spent so much time with Winky I was used to it.
“My name is Jill Maxwell.”
“What do you want Ned for?” It was the boy’s turn to interrogate me.
“It’s a private matter. If you could just point me to his caravan, I’d be most grateful.”
“He doesn’t like visitors,” the girl said.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“That’s his caravan over there.”
“The green one?”
“Yeah, but don’t say we didn’t warn you.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Standing outside the green caravan, I braced myself for what would surely be a difficult conversation.
I’d just raised my hand to knock on the door when it flew open.
“It’s you!” The tall cyclopper glared at me.
“Hello again.” Just as I’d feared, it was the same guy I’d had the run-in with on my previous visit to the circus.
“How’s life at the CCIA?”
“Oh? It’s—err—”
“Remind me again what that stands for.”
“Err—it—err—”
“Let me help you. I believe it’s the Candlefield Circus Inspection Authority, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, about that, I—err—”
“Except of course that there’s no such thing, is there?”
“Look, I think we may have got off on the wrong foot last time.”
Oh bum! Wrong foot? What was I thinking?
“What did you just say?”
“What I meant was that there may have been a slight misunderstanding the last time I was here.”
“When you say misunderstanding, what you really mean is that you lied. There is no such thing as the CCIA, is there?”
“Well, no.”
“So, you did lie.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. Very sorry.”
“You accused us of stealing clown shoes.”
“That was my bad.”
“What brings you back here today?”
“I wanted to ask you a favour.”
“You’ve got some nerve. I’ll give you that.” He laughed. “You lie to us, accuse us of being thieves, and now you want us to do you a favour.”
“It sounds bad when you put it like that.”
“What exactly is this favour?”
“I need your help to identify one of your people who has been robbing women in the human world. One of the women who tried to resist him, fell and banged her head, and died from her injuries.”
“How dare you come here and throw around more of your unfounded accusations?” He’d turned a deep shade of red. “I think you’d better leave, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Wait. Take a look at this, please.” I held out my phone.
“What is it?”
“Watch.” I played the video for him.
“Give that to me.” He snatched the phone from my hand, and for a moment, I thought he was going to smash it. Instead, he replayed the video several times. “Where was this taken?”
“I’m right, aren’t I? That is one of your people, isn’t it?”
“I can’t be sure.” He hesitated. “But, yes, it does appear to be. Where was it taken?”
“Outside a school in Washbridge. He’d just tried to snatch my sister’s handbag.”
Clearly dazed, Ned shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That is a cyclopper, right?”
“I believe so.”
“I need your help to find him and bring him to justice.”
“No!” He suddenly became very animated. “This is my responsibility and I’ll deal with it.”
“But I—err—”
“I said I’ll deal with it.”
“How do I know that I can trust you?”
“Because you have my word. I’ll find out who this is, and they will be dealt with.”
“Dealt with, how?”
“They’ll be handed over to the authorities.”
“The Candlefield police?”
“No, to the rogue retrievers. This relates to crimes committed in the human world, so they should be the ones to deal with it.”
“Okay.”
“I’d like to thank you for bringing this to my attention. The cycloppers are a proud people, and whoever has done this has brought shame upon us.”
“Does that mean you and I are good now?”
“Provided you don’t start accusing us of stealing clown shoes again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
That had actually gone much better than I could have hoped for. I only had Ned’s word that he’d put an end to the rogue cyclopper’s activities, but judging by his reaction, I was confident he would make good on his promise.
***
While I was in Candlefield I decided to call in at Cuppy C, to find out how the twins were coping after the cat café debacle.
Pearl and Jemima were behind the counter.
“Have they got you working in the tearoom now, Jemima?”
“Goodness no.” She smiled. “I’d be hopeless at it.”
“You couldn’t be any worse than Jill,” Pearl quipped.
“Thanks.” I shot her a look. “Who’s watching the kids?”
“Mindy is upstairs with them. Jemima is on her break.”
“How are things going? Has there been any feedback from the parents?”
“They all seem to be happy with our new employee.” Pearl patted Jemima on the shoulder. “It’s like Belladonna never left.”
“That’s good. Can I get a caramel latte, please?”
“And—?” Pearl said.
“Just the coffee, thanks.”
“Aren’t you feeling well?”
“Anyone would think I always had cake with my coffee.”
“And they’d be right.”
“What’s the latest with the cats?”
“Cat City are bringing a new batch over tonight, ready for the relaunch tomorrow morning.”
“Let’s hope this lot hang around a little longer than the others did.”
“They better had. It’s costing us a small fortune.”
It was only when I had my drink that I spotted Daze and Blaze seated near the window.
“Hey, you two. Can I join you?”
“Sure.” Daze pulled out the chair next to her.
“You both look very serious. Is something wrong?”
“We have a code r
ed,” Blaze said.
“I’m guessing that’s serious.”
“It’s our highest-level alert.” Daze took a bite of her toasted sandwich. “It’s only issued when one of the sups on the Most Wanted list is thought to be in the vicinity.”
“Most Wanted list? I didn’t realise there was such a thing.”
“It’s not something we publicise to the general population, but every rogue retriever has a copy.”
“When you say, in the vicinity, what do you mean, exactly?”
“The sups on the list are wanted for all manner of heinous crimes committed in the human world. The alert means that one of them has been sighted back here in Candlefield.”
“Which one of them has triggered the alert?”
Before she could answer, the pager in her pocket beeped. “Sorry, Jill, we have to go.”
“Okay, good luck.”
I’d been nursing my coffee for some time when an elderly wizard walked over to my table.
“Are you Jill Maxwell?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I thought so. Would you mind signing my handkerchief?”
“Sorry?” Just the thought of it turned my stomach.
“It’s okay.” He laughed. “It’s not one I’ve ever used.” He fished it out of his pocket and laid it on the table. “I couldn’t decide between the mouse mat and this, but I figured I could carry this with me. I never dreamt I’d actually bump into you.”
“That’s my photo on there. Where did you get this from?”
“Candlefield Icons. They have all sorts of your memorabilia.” He handed me a pen. “I really do appreciate this.”
“No problem.” I scribbled my signature on his handkerchief.
“Thanks. I can’t wait to show it to the lads down the Donkey.”
“The Donkey?”
“The Dandelion and Donkey. That’s my local. You’re welcome to join us for a drink if you like?”
“That’s very kind, but I’m a bit pushed for time at the moment.”
That was twice now that someone had mentioned buying ‘my’ memorabilia from Candlefield Icons. I found it quite flattering that people would lay out money to buy something with my picture on it.
What do you mean you’d pay good money not to have my picture on it? Cheek!