by Adele Abbott
“Great Sylvester.”
“Whatever. Who is he?”
“He’s the UK’s top illusionist.”
“So, a magician, then?”
“He’s much more than a magician. The illusions he performs are all on a massive scale.”
“I’m not interested in seeing him. Jack can go with you and Peter.”
“That’s just it. We’ve only got two tickets. Pete and I were meant to go and see him, but we’ve got to go to a thing at Mikey’s school, so we can’t make it. So, we thought of you and Jack.”
“Oh, well. I suppose if it’s free—”
“Jack said he’d give us the face value of the tickets.”
“Did he? That’s good of him. How much are they?”
“Got to run, Jill. Lizzie is calling me.”
“Kathy? How much are—”
She’d hung up.
Jack was so dead.
***
It was a long time since I’d seen a man wearing a corduroy jacket, but I have to say that my visitor that day, a Mr Arthur Pine, pulled it off remarkably well. And, although I’m not generally a fan of the cravat, this was one occasion when I think it worked rather well.
But enough of my sartorial critique.
“Miss Gooder, thank you for seeing me at such short notice.” He was very well spoken—much like me.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Pine. Please call me Jill.”
“And you must call me Arthur.”
“You said on the phone that it was in connection with your daughter?”
“That’s right. Carol disappeared almost six months ago. She was last seen leaving the offices of Grover Import/Export where she worked. She never made it home.”
“That must be very hard for you.”
“It’s the not knowing that makes it so difficult.”
“Had she worked at Grover long?”
“A little over a year. Charles Grover and I go way back. My wife and I have been friends with him and his wife, Cynthia, for many years. It was Charles who gave Carol the job in the first place. She’d been looking around for office work, but with no success. I persuaded Charles to give her a chance, and she’s never looked back.”
“I take it the police have drawn a blank so far?”
“Yes, and between you and me, I’m not very happy with their lack of progress.”
“Which, I assume, is why you’re here today?”
“Yes, in part, but what really prompted me to take action was that another young woman has gone missing in almost identical circumstances. Her name is Kimberly West, and she worked in the same office as Carol. She too was last seen leaving Grover Import/Export offices, but never made it home. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“I agree. What exactly are you looking for from me?”
“I’d like you to go undercover at Grover to see if you can find out what’s happening.”
“Undercover? Do you think that’s necessary?”
“Definitely. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that someone in that office knows what happened to Carol and Kimberley, but all the staff have already been interviewed by the police, and so far, no one has offered any meaningful information. If you were to work there undercover, then maybe you’d be able to gain their confidence, and find out something—anything that might help us to discover what happened.”
“I’d be happy to, but how am I meant to land a job there? Can you suggest it to your friend, Charles Grover?”
“I’d rather not mention it to Charles.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“He works in the same office that Carol and Kimberley did.”
“Do you think he may have had something to do with it?”
“Goodness, no. I just thought it would be better if no one in that office knew who you really are.”
“How do you propose to get me in there, then?”
“Jeffrey Beach, the HR man at Grover, is a neighbour of mine. I think I’ll be able to persuade him to take you on.”
“You said ‘you think’? Does that mean you haven’t actually asked him yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted to speak with you first to make sure that you’d be happy with that arrangement. I thought perhaps you could accompany me when I go to see him at his house. That way he’ll know what he’s agreeing to.”
“Okay, that sounds fine. When?”
“It’s weekend tomorrow, so why don’t we say Monday?”
“That works for me. Now, I need you to tell me more about your daughter. How was she just before she disappeared? Was she stressed or worried about anything? Did she seem unhappy?”
“Not at all. She’d been saving up for ages to buy her first car; we had planned to get it the next weekend. She was so excited.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No. At least not at the time she disappeared. She and her last boyfriend had broken up six months earlier.”
“Did she call it off?”
“No. He dumped her. She was upset for a few weeks, but was over it long before her disappearance.”
“What about friends?”
“She has a few close friends. I can let you have their details, if you wish.”
“Let’s see how my time undercover goes first. I assume the police have checked the local CCTV?”
“The closest camera to Grover’s offices is two miles down the road. Carol always walked home that way, but there was no sign of her on the footage.”
“So, she disappeared somewhere in that two-mile stretch between her office and the first camera?”
“Apparently. The police think she may have accepted a lift from someone, but Carol wouldn’t have got into a car with a stranger. Unless she’d been forced to.”
“Maybe she knew the person? Someone from her office, perhaps?”
“My thinking, precisely. Which is why I’d like you to go undercover.”
“Okay. Let’s hope Mr Beach agrees to let me.”
***
Jack arrived home thirty minutes after I did.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Never mind my day. I have a bone to pick with you.”
“What have I done now?”
“The Magnificent Sylvester.”
“Great Sylvester.”
“Whatever. Why did you say you’d buy the tickets off Kathy?”
“I thought it would be a treat for you. I know how much you like magic.”
Huh? Why did everyone keep saying that?
“You should have offered her half the original price.”
“She’s your sister.”
“That’s why I said ‘half’. For anyone else, it would have been a third.”
“You’re so tight-fisted.”
“And, you’re a soft touch. How much were they, anyway?”
“Not much?”
“How much is ‘not much’?”
“Forty pounds.”
“Not as bad as I’d feared.”
“Each.”
“What! I’ll kill Kathy.”
“By the way, I found out today that one of my new colleagues, Trevor Harvey, is a big tenpin bowling fan. Apparently, he plays most weeks.”
“Does he want to give you a game?”
“Yes, sometime, but at the moment, he’s more interested in coming over to take a look at my trophy.”
“Very funny.” I laughed.
Jack didn’t.
“Oh, sorry. Were you being serious?”
“Of course I’m being serious. You may not appreciate my trophy, but other bowling enthusiasts will.”
“Right, yes, of course. You should ask him over. You can show him your collection of bowling shirts at the same time.”
He gave me a withering look.
Chapter 3
It was Monday morning. After a relaxing week-end, I was ready for whatever the world threw at me.
Famous last words.
My phone rang; it was Daze.
“J
ill, do you think we could meet up?”
“In Cuppy C?”
“I’d rather it was somewhere that I won’t be seen or heard by anyone who might know me.”
Now my interest was piqued. “Where did you have in mind?”
“Could you get to West Chipping?”
“I guess so.”
“There’s a coffee shop on Balmoral Street called Coffee Octagon.”
“Octagon? Really? “
“Yes. I think they’re playing on the Coffee Triangle name.”
“I’ll find it. When do you want to meet?”
“Are you busy right now? It is rather urgent.”
“I could get there in about an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
I rarely went to West Chipping, but it wasn’t a very big town, so it didn’t take me long to find Balmoral Street. Just as Daze had suggested, Coffee Octagon was a Coffee Triangle wannabe—even their sign was in the same font and colours. But they had completely missed the point. The original shop had used the word ‘triangle’ to represent its percussion theme. Coffee Octagon, on the other hand, appeared to be some kind of homage to geometric shapes. Painted on the wall, behind the counter, were hexagons in various colours. Hanging from the ceiling, if my memory of geometry served me correctly, were a number of wooden nonagons.
“I don’t think much of this place,” I said when Daze arrived, a few minutes after me.
“Me neither.” She poked at her blueberry muffin. “This is dry.”
“I don’t think Coffee Triangle has anything to worry about.”
“The reason I wanted to see you is to talk about your grandmother.”
“My favourite subject. What’s she done now?”
“You probably realise that I’ve been turning a blind eye to her exploits?”
“Exploits?” I acted dumb.
What do you mean that shouldn’t have been difficult for me to do?
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Jill.” Daze gave me a knowing smile. “I’m aware of some of the things she gets up to, and there’s probably a whole host of others, which I haven’t stumbled upon yet. If it was anyone else, she’d have been banished from Washbridge long ago.”
“It’s kind of you to have let it go.”
“She’s your family, and I owe you for the help you’ve given me.”
“So, what specifically did you want to talk to me about?”
“I’ve heard on the grapevine that Department V are going to get involved with her case.”
“That sounds rather sinister. What is Department V?”
“They’re a super-secret organisation in Candlefield. They’re neither police nor rogue retrievers—rather something in between the two. They’re a law unto themselves.”
“What does V stand for?”
“I’ve no idea. Even that is a secret. Anyway, I’ve heard that they’re going to be clamping down on some of the serial offenders who have so far evaded capture in the human world. People like your grandmother, who consider themselves above the law. I thought I’d better let you know so you can warn her.”
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
“I can’t. Officially, I don’t know that she’s been up to any of these things. If I admitted that I did, then I’d have to take her in. I thought if I mentioned it to you, then perhaps you could have a quiet word.”
“Grandma doesn’t listen to anything I have to say.”
“You’re going to have to make her listen. If she doesn’t, she’ll find herself in serious trouble.”
“Okay, I’ll try. Thanks for the tip-off, Daze. I really do appreciate it. Are you working on anything interesting at the moment?”
“We’re keeping a close watch on a werewolf named Boris Breakskull.”
“Great name.”
“I’d love to break his skull. He’s an agitator who is hellbent on werewolves taking over the human world.”
“Seriously?”
“He’s deadly serious, but it’s never going to happen; there simply aren’t the numbers in the human world. And besides, most werewolves are happy to co-exist peacefully with humans.”
“If it’s not a realistic threat, why do you feel you have to monitor him?”
“There’s been a lot of activity recently between him and his small band of radical followers. Better safe than sorry.”
“I guess so. By the way, I meant to ask, how was your holiday with Haze?”
“It was great thanks. It was just what I needed; I feel totally rejuvenated. And, I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised to find that Blaze had coped so well while I was away.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” I thought it best not to mention the Slippery Sam incident—Blaze obviously hadn’t.
***
Arthur Pine was wearing another corduroy jacket; it seemed to be his thing. Today’s was brown, and he’d elected to go sans cravat. We’d arranged to meet at Jeffrey Beach’s house.
“Arthur?” Beach looked surprised to see his colleague. “Is everything okay?”
“Do you think we might come in for a minute?”
“Of course.” Jeffrey Beach was a similar age to Arthur Pine, but was a much larger man—particularly around the waist. He was evidently a man who enjoyed his food. He turned to me. “Hello, young lady. Is this a friend of yours, Arthur?”
“This is Jill Gooder, Jeffrey. She’s a private investigator.”
Beach was obviously taken aback by that revelation. “A P.I? What’s going on, Arthur?”
“I’m here to ask a favour,” Pine said. “It’s six months now since Carol disappeared.”
“Such a terrible business.” Beach shook his head. “I don’t know how you cope. And now, there’s this business with Kimberly.”
“That’s why I asked Jill to come with me today. It’s obvious that the police are getting nowhere fast, so it’s time I took matters into my own hands. I’d like your permission for her to work in Grover’s offices, undercover.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Have you spoken to Charles about this?”
“No, it’s better that no one in that office knows who Jill is, or why she’s there.”
“But it’s Charles’s company. Wait, you don’t think he’s behind the disappearances, do you?”
“No. At least, I hope not.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Arthur.”
“How long have we been friends, Jeffrey?”
“A long time.”
“If it was Linda, wouldn’t you do the same?”
Beach glanced at the photographs on the sideboard. Linda was obviously his daughter.
“Of course I would.”
“Then will you help me?”
“Charles has asked me to get a temp in to keep things going.”
“Perfect. Then, Jill is your woman.”
“It would only be a few mornings or afternoons a week.” Beach turned to me. “Would that work?”
“Yes, that would be fine. I don’t anticipate it taking more than a few days. Either I’ll have uncovered something by then, or established there’s nothing to find.”
“Okay.” Beach nodded. “That should be doable. Do you have any experience in office admin?”
“No, not really, but I’m a quick learner.”
***
Mrs V popped her head around the door of my office.
“Mr Stone is here to look at your books, Jill.”
“Okay, send him through, would you?”
Luther Stone was as handsome as ever, and looking particularly pleased with life.
“Afternoon, Jill.” He greeted me with a huge smile. “Are you ready for me to take a look at your accounts?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. You’re looking very pleased with yourself. Have you won the lottery?”
“If I had, I wouldn’t be here today, doing your books. Actually, I’ve found myself a new lady friend. Her name is Maria.”
>
“That’s great. How did you meet? Is she an accountant too?”
“No.” He grinned. “Between you and me, I met her through a dating agency.”
“Really? I have to say I’m surprised. I would have thought a good-looking guy like you would have been fighting the women off.”
“The truth is, I don’t really go anywhere that I’m likely to meet someone. That’s why I decided to give the dating agency a try.”
I suddenly had a horrible thought. “This dating agency—it isn’t by any chance called Love Spell, is it?”
“No. It’s called Love Bites.”
Phew! Thank goodness for that. I could still remember the problems Mr Ivers had encountered when, unbeknown to him, he’d dated witches through the Love Spell agency.
Luther worked on my books in the outer office, and then after no more than thirty minutes, came back through.
“There are a few things I need to check with you, Jill. Do you have a moment?”
“Sure. Take a seat.”
“I just want to doublecheck some of the things you’ve charged to your business credit card.”
“Fire away.”
“The first item is a book on hypnosis.”
I glanced over at Winky, who was fast asleep on the sofa.
“Hypnosis? Oh yes, I remember. It was for research on a recent case.”
“That’s fine.” He ticked the item. “And, a fishing rod?”
“That was research too. Quite an unusual case.”
“It must have been. What about this one? Clown costume?”
“That was for undercover work.”
“Are you positive, Jill? HMRC can come down hard on false expense claims. Are you sure it wasn’t something you hired for a fancy-dress party?”
“No, honestly. I was doing some work for NOCA that’s the National Organisation of Clown Acts.”
“I see.” He still looked doubtful, but ticked the item anyway.
Twenty minutes later, he had finished checking and updating my books.
“How are they looking, Luther?” I was feeling pretty confident. “Has the business turned a corner?”
“Not exactly.”
“Are you sure? I’ve had far more paying cases recently.”