by Adele Abbott
I waited until Sarah came over to make herself a drink. The tea-making paraphernalia was on a table close to the filing cabinets where I was working.
“Would you like a drink, Jill?”
“A cup of tea would be lovely. Thanks.”
“We have biscuits too, if you’d like one?”
I’d already seen the contents of their biscuit tin: ginger nuts and malted milk.
“Not for me, thanks.” I double-checked that Tony was still occupied in Grover’s office. “Tony’s a bit of a flirt, isn’t he?”
“I wouldn’t take any notice of him. It’s all show; he’s quite a nice guy underneath all that. I’ve never had a problem with him, but then I am married.”
“Did he used to flirt with Carol and Kimberly too?”
“To tell you the truth, it went beyond flirting between Tony and Carol. But you have to understand that Tony wasn’t actually seeing anyone else back then.”
“So, were they a couple?”
“I’m not sure I’d have called them a ‘couple’. They never actually said they were seeing each other outside of work, but I’m fairly sure they did, at least for a while.”
“Was she still seeing him when she disappeared?”
“No, something happened before then. Things between them seemed to cool off very quickly around Christmas time. I assume they must have had some kind of falling out. They were still civil to each other in the office, but the ‘spark’ had gone. Not long after that, Tony met the girl who is now his fiancée.”
“What about Kimberly? Did he flirt with her?”
“Of course, but that’s just how he is. It never went beyond that because Tony had a girlfriend by then. Why do you ask? Are you interested in him?”
“He is rather good looking.” I smiled. “But I’m already with someone.”
Sarah passed me the cup of tea, and then went back to her desk. I would have to be much more careful. If I continued to ask so many questions, sooner or later someone would smell a rat. Still, I had discovered that Tony had been more than just friendly with Carol, and had flirted with Kimberly even after he was engaged. I was particularly interested in what Sarah had said about Tony and Carol’s relationship coming to a sudden halt.
It was time to encourage Tony a little, just to see where it might lead, so mid-afternoon, I managed to sneak out of the office without anyone noticing. I loosened a couple of wires on my car’s engine, and then hurried back inside.
“Stupid car!” I cursed.
We had finished for the day, and I was in the car park, with my head under the bonnet.
“Is everything okay, Jill?” Tony asked. I had deliberately parked my car next to his.
“It doesn’t want to start. I’d better get a bus.”
“There’s no need for that. I can give you a lift, if you like? Where do you live?”
“In Smallwash. It’s rather a long way.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Thanks. That’s very kind.” I climbed into the passenger seat of his car.
If he was going to try anything on, this would be his opportunity. Both Carol and Kimberly had gone missing on their way home from work. Unless they had been forced into a car, there was a good chance that they had accepted a lift from someone they knew.
But Tony headed straight for Smallwash. He didn’t try anything on—he didn’t even flirt. In fact, he spent most of the journey talking about his fiancée.
“That’s my house on the left.” I pointed. “Thanks for the lift. I hate buses.”
“No problem.”
“Sarah mentioned that you and Carol were quite close.”
“Carol?” He seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Yeah, we were. To tell you the truth, I thought we might have made a go of it, but then she told me that she was seeing someone else.”
“Out of the blue?”
“Yeah. We’d only been out the night before. At the time, I was devastated, but not long after that, I met Lillian, and so everything worked out okay in the end.”
“Do you know who Carol had started to see?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“No reason.” I laughed. “I guess I’m just naturally nosey.”
“I don’t know who it was. She never said.”
“Okay, well, thanks again for the lift, Tony. See you at work.”
***
After Tony had dropped me off, I broke one of my golden rules, and magicked myself back to Grover Import/Export to pick up my car.
What? I know I don’t normally like to use magic to move around the human world, but you didn’t expect me to get the bus, did you?
I collected the car, and drove back home, but before I got into the house, I heard a strange high pitched noise. It appeared to be coming from the front bedroom of Mr Kilbride’s house. It was probably the same noise that both Mrs Rollo and Blake had heard. Kilbride might not be the witchfinder, but there was still something seriously strange going on in that house. He’d openly admitted that he worked in the occult business, and I was worried that he might be up to something.
Just then, a taxi came down the road and stopped outside of Kilbride’s place. I went inside, and kept a watch on his house. A few minutes later, Kilbride came out, and got into the taxi. This could be my chance. It would be far better to try to find out what was going on in that house now than to wait for something bad to happen.
Once the taxi had left with Kilbride in it, I went over to Blake’s house.
“Blake, did you hear that sound from your neighbour’s house just now?”
“It’s always happening. It’s got to the point where I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“I think there’s something funny going on in there.”
“I thought you said that he wasn’t the witchfinder?”
“He isn’t, but there’s something not right about our Mr Kilbride. I’m going to take a look next door to see if I can find out what he’s up to.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m positive. I’ll sleep much better once I know. Can you keep watch, and let me know if he comes back?”
“How am I supposed to warn you?”
“Beep your car’s horn.”
“Okay. But be careful.”
I made my way around the back of Kilbride’s house. Fortunately, the back garden was enclosed by a fence, so no one could see me. There was a small open window on the first floor, so I shrank myself, and then levitated until I was level with it. Once I was inside the house, I reversed the ‘shrink’ spell. The noise had come from the front bedroom, so I made my way across the landing. I pushed the door open very slowly—just in case there was something or someone in there.
There wasn’t, but at least now I knew what had caused that dreadful noise. On the bed was a set of bagpipes. I’d always been fascinated by that unusual instrument. It was supposed to be quite difficult to play them, but how hard could it really be? It couldn’t do any harm to try, could it? It took quite some time for me to figure out exactly how I was meant to hold them, but I finally did it. I’d seen bagpipes played before, and knew I needed to first blow into the pipe to fill the bag. Then I needed to squeeze the bag with my arm. At least, that was the theory, but as with most things, theory and practice can be very different. I kept blowing and squeezing, but with no success. I was just about to give it up as a bad job when Eureka!
Hey, look at me—I was playing the bagpipes. Not very well, it has to be said, but not bad for a first attempt.
After no more than a few minutes, I had to stop; I was exhausted. Wait! What was that noise? A car horn? Oh bum! Kilbride must be back.
“Who’s up there?” The voice came from downstairs. “I’m armed!” He was on his way up the stairs.
I quickly made myself invisible, and stepped behind the door. He rushed in, but then stopped dead in his tracks—obviously surprised to find the room empty. I slipped out, and made my escape from the
house the same way as I’d come in.
“I thought he was going to catch you,” Blake said when I got to his door. “I hooted the car horn several times.”
“Sorry, Blake. I didn’t hear you because I was playing the bagpipes.”
“Bagpipes?”
“Yeah. That’s what’s been making all the noise.”
He laughed. “It doesn’t look like we have much to fear from Kilbride, after all.”
“Maybe not, but I’d still like to know more about his ‘occult’ business.”
Chapter 13
I knew Mrs Rollo had been concerned about the strange noises coming from Kilbride’s house, so I thought it only fair to let her know that there was nothing to worry about.
“Jill? Would you like to come in?” She greeted me at the door.
“No, thanks, Mrs Rollo. I have to make dinner. I just wanted to let you know that you don’t need to worry about those noises you heard coming from the house across the road.”
“Have you found out what it is?”
“Yes. It’s bagpipes.”
“Really? I never would have guessed. How did you find out? Have you spoken to Mr Kilbride?”
Oh bum! I hadn’t considered that she might ask how I knew.
“No. Mr Kilbride’s next-door neighbour, Blake, told me.”
“That’s a relief. I’d still rather not have to listen to that awful noise, but at least now I know he isn’t sacrificing small animals in there.” She laughed.
“Speaking of animals, Mrs Rollo. We’re thinking of getting a dog. You wouldn’t have any objections, would you?”
“Not at all. I love dogs. What kind are you thinking of getting?”
“We’ve actually already picked one out. He’s a black and white labradoodle, and his name is Barry.”
“I know you and Jack are both out at work most days. If you like, I could take the dog for a walk during the week?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition. I’d enjoy it. And besides, it would be a good excuse to get out of the house, and get some exercise.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you. When we get Barry, we’ll bring him around to introduce him to you.”
“Yes, please do. I look forward to meeting him.”
“I should warn you, though, he’s a big softy.”
“I can’t wait.”
What a piece of luck! I’d been a little concerned about leaving Barry at home by himself while Jack and I were at work. I was afraid he might wreck the place if he got bored. But now Mrs Rollo had volunteered to take him for walks, that shouldn’t be a problem.
I made a fry-up for dinner. When we’d finished, I volunteered Jack to do the washing up while I had a shower. Afterwards, as I was getting dressed, I could hear voices coming from downstairs. Who could that be? I was halfway down the stairs when I recognised the other voice.
“Mr Kilbride is here, Jill,” Jack said. “There’s something he wants to warn us about.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Someone broke into my house earlier today,” Kilbride said. “I thought I’d better let all the neighbours know that we have a burglar in the area. I work from home most of the time, and yet the scoundrel still managed to get in while I was out at the supermarket.”
“Did you see him?” Jack asked.
“No. I heard him upstairs when I came through the front door, but by the time I got up there, he’d gone. Vanished into thin air.”
“Probably as well you didn’t confront him,” Jack said. “It could have been dangerous.”
“It would have been dangerous for him if I’d got a hold of him.”
“Did he get away with anything?” I asked.
“No. I must have disturbed him before he had the chance.”
“Do you think he might have been after something in particular? You said you work from home, didn’t you? Something to do with the occult business?”
“Occult?” He laughed. “I’m not in the occult business. I’m in the kilt business.” Kilbride stood up, and pulled open his cloak. Underneath it, he was wearing a kilt. “I make these for a living. I wear them most of the time, but these days the weather seems to get to my old legs, so I wear this cloak to keep warm.”
“Maybe we should get an alarm fitted?” Jack said, after Kilbride had left.
“Nah. We’ll be fine.”
“How can you say that when the house across the road has just been hit?”
“I have a feeling that the burglars will be long gone by now. And besides, we’ll soon have a guard dog to keep them out.”
“When will you be collecting Barry?”
“In the next couple of days. And I have good news about that. Mrs Rollo has said she’d love to walk Barry during the daytime when we’re at work.”
“That’s great. I can’t wait to meet him.”
Hmmm.
***
The next morning, as promised, I visited Arthur Pine at his house, to give him an update on my progress so far.
“Do you have any news for me, Jill?”
I could see in his face that he was desperate for answers. I could only imagine the kind of torment a parent must go through when their child, even an adult child, disappears without trace.
“I’m afraid there isn’t much to report. The only thing of any significance that I’ve learnt so far is that Tony Moore and your daughter may have been in some kind of relationship for a short while.”
“Carol did mention that she’d been out with Tony a couple of times, but she led me to believe that it wasn’t very serious.”
“Tony had thought it might develop into something more, but then Carol ended it very suddenly. She told him there was someone else, but she wouldn’t say who it was. This would have been around Christmas time. Did she mention anyone else to you?”
“No, she didn’t, which is unusual because she usually told me about her boyfriends. I had no idea that she’d dropped Tony for someone else.”
“Could I possibly take a look at Carol’s room?”
“Of course, if you think it will help.” He led me upstairs to a small bedroom, which was ultra-tidy—very minimalist.
“Have you tidied up in here?”
“No. This is exactly how Carol left it on the day she disappeared. She’s always been very tidy—even as a child. Whenever she went to one of her friends’ houses, she’d come home afterwards, and comment on how untidy they were.” He smiled at the memory.
“Does Carol keep a diary?”
“Yes. She has a five-year one.” He walked over to the bedside table, pulled open the top drawer, and passed the diary to me.
“Do you mind if I look at it?”
“Not at all. I read it myself not long after she disappeared. I felt terribly guilty at the time, but I thought it might throw some light on what had happened to her, but it didn’t.”
I flicked through the diary and came to the period just before Christmas. There were several references to a ‘TM’, which I took to be Tony Moore. After Christmas, the entries referred to an ‘HB’.
“Do you know who ‘HB’ is?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”
I promised Arthur Pine that I would keep him posted. Despite his efforts to put on a brave face, I could see he was hurting. I desperately wanted to put an end to his suffering, but even if I did find out what had happened to Carol, there was no guarantee that she would still be alive. At least I now had one more clue to work on. Maybe if I could figure out who ‘HB’ was, I’d be closer to finding out what had happened to Carol.
***
Margaret Smallside lived in the next street up from Chinchilla Road, which I’d visited when trying to pick up a Rodent Match application form for Hamlet.
I knocked on the door, which was painted purple and orange.
“Yes?” The woman who answered, eyed me suspiciously. “Can I help you?”
“Jeremiah Moleskin gave me
your name and address.”
“Jeremiah?” The woman smiled. “I haven’t seen him in ages. How is he?”
“He seemed okay. I met him in Candlefield Library. I was trying to research CASS, but didn’t have a great deal of luck. He suggested I contact you.”
“I’m not surprised you drew a blank in the library. The last time I was in there, they only had three books on CASS.”
“That’s still the case, I’m afraid, and none of them covered what I was looking for.”
“Which is?”
“I’m interested in the history of the building, and more specifically the history of the Wrongacre family.”
“Why are you so interested in CASS and the Wrongacres?”
“I was invited to make a speech there recently.”
“Really? It’s very unusual for CASS to invite outsiders to speak there. That’s quite an honour. Why exactly did they ask you? Should I know you?”
“There’s no reason you should. I was brought up as a human. For most of my life I had no idea that I was a witch.”
“Just a moment,” Margaret interrupted. “I know who you are, now. You’re Jill—err”
“Gooder.”
“Of course. You’re the one who turned down the chance to become a level seven witch, aren’t you?”
“That’s me.”
“Do come in. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.”
To go with the tea, Margaret cut us both a slice of home-made fruit cake, which was delicious. She then proceeded to tell me everything she knew about the Wrongacre family.
“I understand that Agnes Wrongacre died in childbirth,” I said.
“That’s right. Giving birth to her only son, Damon.”
The name immediately rang a bell, but only because it was the same name as the red-haired, red-bearded man who had been found dead at my offices.
Margaret continued, “Charles Wrongacre had been desperate for an heir, but he was devastated by the loss of his wife. Nonetheless, Charles rallied, and focussed on his son, who became his whole world. When Damon died in his early twenties, it destroyed his father.”