Witch Is Why The Moon Disappeared (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 17)

by Adele Abbott

  “Jill?” Megan looked surprised to see me when she answered her door.

  “Morning, Megan.”

  “Did you want to come in?”

  “Only for a minute.”

  “Tea? Coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I’m just on my way to work.”

  “Did Peter tell you that I’ve asked him out to dinner? By way of a thank you.”

  “Peter didn’t.” I frowned. “But Kathy did.”

  “Oh? Is there something wrong?”

  “Look, Megan, I know you mean well, but—err—well, you are an attractive woman, and Kathy can be—err.”

  “Jealous?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s crazy. I’m not after Peter. He’s a friend who helped me out. I just wanted to—oh, dear. I didn’t mean to upset your sister. What do you think I should do?”

  “It’s not for me to say.”

  “Please, Jill. I want to do the right thing.”

  “I would call him, and say you’re sorry but something has come up. Then, if you still want to thank him, buy him some chocolate. He’s quite partial to a chocolate orange.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks for the advice, Jill.”

  “No problem.”

  “Was that what you came around to see me for?”

  “No. Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about. Is there any chance you could meet me for coffee later this morning?”

  “Of course. What’s it about?”

  “I’d rather tell you later, if that’s alright?”

  “I’ve no modelling assignments today, and my first gardening job is this afternoon, so yeah, I guess so.”

  “Great. How about ten o’ clock?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you know Coffee Triangle?”

  “Is that the one where they play the drums?”

  “Sometimes, but not today.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there.”

  One down, one to go. Once I was in my car, I made a call.

  “Mad? It’s Jill.”

  ***

  Before I met up with Mad and Megan, I dropped in on Luther at his offices.

  “Jill? I wasn’t expecting you, was I?”

  “No, I was hoping you might have a few minutes to look at something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A P&L report.”

  He looked stunned. “I’m surprised you even know what a P&L report is.”

  Harsh but true. “It’s not for my business. It’s my—err—it’s a friend’s business. I just wondered if you could take a look at it to see if you notice anything untoward?”

  “What kind of thing?”

  “I don’t know. Anything fishy.” Or catty.

  “I can, but this isn’t a good time because I have a client due to arrive at any moment.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to do it right now.”

  “Maybe I could give you some feedback when the four of us go out for dinner. Have you given that any more thought?”

  “Yes. I mentioned it to Jack, and he was most enthusiastic.” Believe that, and you’ll believe anything.

  “Great. Shall I book a table, then? Are you free one evening next week?”

  “Yeah, that should be okay.”

  “Maria is looking forward to meeting you both.”

  And sucking us dry of blood, no doubt. “We’re looking forward to meeting her too. How’s it going with you two, anyway?”

  “Great. She’s not like any other woman I’ve ever met.”

  I’ll bet.

  ***

  Mad was in Coffee Triangle when I arrived. She already had a cappuccino, so I got myself a latte, and joined her in one of the booths towards the rear of the shop. It was tambourine day, but neither Mad nor I had bothered to take one.

  “What’s this all about, Jill? You were very mysterious on the phone.”

  “I’ll tell you in a couple of minutes, I promise. Someone else will be joining us.”

  “Who?”

  “My next-door neighbour. Her name is Megan. Look, I realise this is all very cryptic, and I have to warn you that you’re not going to like what I have to tell you, but I don’t really have any option.”

  Luckily, Megan walked in at that precise moment. I caught her eye, and after she’d got herself a drink, she came over to join us.

  “Megan, this is Mad.”

  Megan looked a little confused.

  “It’s short for Madeline,” Mad said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise. What’s this all about, Jill?”

  “There’s no easy way to do this, I’m afraid. Mad, do you still have that photograph you showed me the other day?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Could I take another look at it?”

  She took her phone out of her bag, pulled up the photo, and handed it to me. I placed it on the table in front of Megan.

  “Why do you have a photo of Harry?” Megan said to Mad.

  “That’s my boyfriend, Henry.”

  “That’s why I asked you both to meet me here.” I stepped in. “Mad, when you showed me this photograph, I realised that your Henry was Megan’s Harry.”

  “Why didn’t you say something at the time,” Mad demanded.

  “I don’t know. I should have. It just caught me off guard.”

  “The two-timing piece of—” Mad thumped the table. She looked as angry as I’d ever seen her.

  Megan, on the other hand, looked close to tears. “Sorry, I had no idea.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” Mad put her hand on Megan’s. “It’s his!” She stabbed the photo with her finger.

  “What are you both going to do?” I asked.

  “Plan my revenge.” Mad was beside herself with rage.

  “I’d like to help you with that,” Megan said.

  ***

  It was time for my next afternoon shift at Grover Import/Export. The mountain of filing was gradually getting smaller, but it was still going to take me a few more days to finish. I was beginning to think that the whole undercover exercise was futile because, having already spoken to the three other people in the main office, I’d made no headway. I’d give it a little longer, and then I’d suggest to Arthur Pine that I stop the undercover charade, and approach the case from a different angle.

  It was almost time to call it a day when Elsie came over to the filing cabinets.

  “Jill, would you like to come back to my house after work for a coffee?”

  My initial reaction was to say ‘no’, but I could tell by the look on her face that it meant a lot to her. I actually felt a little sorry for Elsie.

  “Sure, why not?”

  After work we met up in the car park, and I followed her in my car. For some reason, I had expected her to live in a small flat, but she drove into the countryside just outside of Washbridge. She eventually pulled into the driveway of a detached house which looked like it dated back to the Victorian era. It was big enough to have three bedrooms at least, and possibly four.

  “It’s a beautiful house, Elsie, but isn’t it rather big for you?”

  “I’ve lived here all of my life. I’m an only child, so when my mother passed away, she left the house to me. My father had died five years before that.”

  “Have you ever thought of selling up? You could buy somewhere smaller, and live off the money from this house. No more work.”

  “I could give up work without selling the house. My parents also left me a considerable sum of money.”

  “But you still work?”

  “I couldn’t imagine staying at home all day. I’d go crazy.”

  Elsie made tea for us both, and offered me a biscuit from the barrel. I politely declined with the excuse that I didn’t want to spoil my dinner.

  “How are you finding life at Grover?” she asked.

  “It’s fine. I’m slowly making headway with the filing. I don’t expect they’ll need me there much longer.”

 
“I hope Charles keeps you on for a while. I have other work that you could help me with. I’ll suggest it to him.”

  “That’s very kind.”

  “How do you get on with Sarah and Tony?”

  “Sarah seems perfectly nice. Tony is okay, but he’s a bit forward.”

  “He’s the same with all the young women.” Elsie tutted. “He’s engaged, you know—it’s a disgrace. I could have a word with Charles if you like. He’ll speak to him.”

  “No, that’s really not necessary. I can handle Tony.”

  “How long have you and Jack been together?”

  “Just over a year now.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Through work.”

  I stayed at Elsie’s only long enough to be polite, and then made my way back home. I couldn’t help but wonder if her ‘love interest’ from the past was real or just wishful thinking on her part.

  ***

  That evening, Jack and I were sharing some Maltesers.

  “You seem to have got more than me.” Jack was staring at his bowl of chocolates.

  “No, I haven’t. We’ve got the same number.”

  “So how come my bowl is half full, but yours is full to the rim?”

  “Your bowl is bigger than mine, so it looks like you’ve got less. It’s just an optical illusion.”

  “Oh?” He looked doubtful.

  Snigger.

  Thirty minutes later, I caught him trying to pinch one of my Maltesers.

  “They’re mine!” I knocked his hand away.

  “I’ve eaten all of mine.”

  “Can I help it if you’re a gannet?”

  “Are you sure you shared them equally?”

  Before I could lie, I mean answer, my phone rang.

  “Kathy?”

  “I have fantastic news!”

  “Oh yeah?” I’d heard that one before. A thousand times.

  “Megan has cancelled on Pete.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “She said something had cropped up.”

  “How’s Pete taking it?”

  “Who cares.” She laughed. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

  “Me? No. Get off!”

  “What?”

  “Not you, Kathy. Greedy Jack is trying to pinch my chocolates.”

  Chapter 10

  “I think I’d like to go with you,” Jack announced, totally out of the blue.

  It was Saturday morning; the day of the ghost tour. I’d promised that I’d accompany Lizzie on the tour while Kathy spent the day with Mikey at Tom Tom, where he was taking part in an all-day drumathon. Although there were a thousand other things I would rather have been doing on a Saturday morning, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d got the better end of the deal. It had never occurred to me that Jack might want to go on the ghost tour. There was no way I could allow him to because Mad and I had to determine if Lizzie really was a parahuman. We could hardly do that if Jack was with us, so I had to put him off somehow.

  “You wouldn’t enjoy it. You don’t believe in ghosts.”

  He mumbled something through a mouthful of toast.

  “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  After he’d washed the toast down with a swig of tea, he tried again. “I said, you don’t believe in ghosts either, but it could be a laugh, and besides it would be nice to spend some time with Lizzie.”

  “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “No, I’m not going to stay at home and mow the lawns.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say. I was going to suggest that you could spend time with Mikey. He needs some support too.”

  “I guess. Remind me, what is it he’s up to?”

  “Something musical—I forget the exact details. It’s taking place in a music shop called Tom Tom. It’s near to Ever A Wool Moment.”

  “Oh yeah, I know the one. Can’t you remember what it is he’s doing?”

  “No. Just that it’s something musical. Kathy’s going to be there with him, but Peter has to work. If you like, I could give her a call, and tell her that you’ll meet her there later?”

  Jack glanced out of the window; it was a miserable, grey day, and beginning to drizzle. “Yeah. Okay. At least it’ll be dry in there. And, it’ll be nice to spend some time with Mikey. Man to man.”

  I wondered if he’d still feel that way after listening to six hours of constant drumming.

  Snigger.

  I’d arranged to pick up Mad from outside her flat, on my way over to Kathy’s.

  “Why am I up at this hour on a Saturday morning?” She could barely keep her eyes open.

  “You’ll enjoy it, and the weather is perfect.” The rain had turned much heavier.

  “You don’t think we could get Lizzie to change her mind, do you?” Mad yawned. “Maybe we could persuade her to go to the movies instead?”

  “Not a chance. She’s got her heart set on it. Incidentally, did you and Megan have a good chat after I left you?”

  “We certainly did.” Mad suddenly seemed much more awake. “We’ve got a few surprises in store for Henry Harry.”

  If her evil grin was anything to go by, I wouldn’t have liked to be in Henry Harry’s shoes.

  Kathy was keeping a watch out for me, through the window. Before I had a chance to get out of the car, she was on her way down the path with Lizzie. Kathy was holding a large golfing umbrella over the two of them. She opened the rear door, and Lizzie climbed onto the back seat and strapped herself in.

  “Have a nice day, pumpkin.” Kathy gave Lizzie a kiss and a hug. “And don’t let those ghosts scare you.”

  “I’ve told you, Mummy, I’m not scared of ghosts.”

  Kathy came to the front door where I had lowered the window. “Hi, Mad. I didn’t realise you were going too.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. Your sister had my arm twisted up my back.”

  “At least you have a nice day for it.” Kathy laughed.

  “I’ll still take this over six hours of drumming,” I said. “By the way, Jack is going to meet you at Tom Tom later.”

  “Jack’s coming? Does he know what he’s letting himself in for?”

  “Of course.”

  Well, maybe not. Snigger.

  Lizzie was obviously excited about the day ahead, and chattered non-stop on the drive into Washbridge.

  “Do ghosts really not scare you, Lizzie?” Mad asked.

  “No. They’re my friends—secret friends that no one else knows about. My best ghost friend is Caroline.”

  “Who’s Caroline?” Mad asked.

  “She’s a little girl ghost who lives at my school. I talk to her all the time, but I have to wait until there’s no one else around because the other children sometimes make fun of me. They say that I’m talking to the wall, but I’m not. I’m talking to Caroline.”

  “If you don’t see any ghosts today, you mustn’t be disappointed,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t I see any, Auntie Jill?”

  “They might all still be in bed.”

  “In bed?” Mad rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

  “Ghosts sleep, don’t they?”

  Once in Washbridge, we waited in the car until it was almost time to meet the others. There was no point in going out in the rain any sooner than we needed to.

  “Who runs this tour?” Mad asked.

  “It’s a company called Gee Hosts.”

  “I hope the tour is better than their name.”

  “Come on. I suppose we’d better get going.”

  Lizzie shared my umbrella. Mad said she didn’t do umbrellas, and pulled her hood up over her head. We were supposed to meet in the old market square. When we arrived, there was already a small group of people waiting there—a mixture of ages ranging from a couple in their twenties to an old lady who looked at least eighty. Lizzie was the only child there.

  A few minutes later, a man dressed in what appeared to be Edwardian costume, came strolling over to
the group.

  “Good day, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Aloysius Rollings. I will be your guide today on the world renowned Washbridge ghost tour.”

  World renowned? Who was he trying to kid?

  He glanced over, and spotted Lizzie. “Hello, young lady. I hope you won’t be too scared today.”

  “I’m not scared of ghosts,” Lizzie said, confidently.

  “That’s the spirit. Spirit? Get it?” Aloysius Rollings laughed at his own joke.

  Before we set off, he handed each of us a leaflet, which showed the route of the tour. It basically appeared to take in all the older buildings in Washbridge city centre.

  “I don’t get this,” Mad said. “It looks like they’ve just picked out the ten oldest buildings in the city. That doesn’t make any sense. You’re just as likely to find ghosts in a new building, as you are in the older ones.”

  Aloysius led the way, and we all followed behind.

  “Do keep your eyes peeled everyone. We usually see at least one ghost on the tour.”

  Mad turned to me and shook her head. “I’m not buying this. The only way anyone can see a ghost is if that ghost attaches itself to them, or if the person is a parahuman. How can they possibly claim that they see one ghost on every tour? I’m beginning to smell a rat.”

  First stop on the ghost tour was a pub called The Twisted Ash. It was the oldest pub in Washbridge. Both Mad and I knew of it. It was a dump; it had always been a dump. I’d been in there once, several years before, and I’d never been back since. But maybe things had changed?

  Nope.

  The building may have been old, but that was no excuse for the state of the interior, which was absolutely squalid. Our guide held up his hand, and called for quiet.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, and little girl. This is The Twisted Ash – home to one of Washbridge’s most notorious ghosts. Her name is Dolly Moretop. She worked as a barmaid in the early part of the last century. Legend has it that she was strangled to death one evening after the public house had closed its doors. Her murderer was never caught. It’s said that Dolly still walks around the pub.”

  As if on cue, a man appeared from behind the bar. He had curly hair and an equally curly moustache.