“Or he might be bluffing,” Ewan said. “He might just suspect something and be trying to lure out the guilty party.”
“Well,” said Hector with false cheer. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to the bar to get myself a drink. Anyone of you interested?”
“I’ll join you,” Ewan said. “Might as well do something. This whole day has been a waste. Sutter’s just playing with us.”
The group went their separate directions, agreeing to meet again in a few hours. Though they didn’t say it, the knowledge that one of them was guilty of something hung over the group.
“What do you think it is?” Bluebell asked Mathilda once they’d reached the room.
“I don’t know.” Mathilda sounded troubled. “I suppose we’ll soon find out, though.”
“Did you notice how nervous Hector looked?” Bluebell asked. “Could he be the one who’s done something?”
“What could he have done that warranted such a stern warning from Sutter?” Mathilda wondered. “What was that warning about anyway? He said he’d punish the guilty party with the heaviest of hands. That means imprisonment, or worse, being thrown out of the coven.”
“I’m not in the coven yet,” Bluebell said. “But I’m confused. Why is imprisonment preferable to being thrown out of the coven?”
“Well, with imprisonment comes the chance to repent and eventually be reaccepted,” Mathilda said. “But if you’re thrown out of the coven? All the magic is forever erased from your blood. Not only that, you lose a part of your soul. Do you know the kind of damage that would do to a person? You’d never be whole again, and you’d always have the memory of it, yet be unable to speak to anyone. It’s a horrible fate.” Mathilda shuddered. “A fate you’d have to bear for the rest of your life.”
“Have people been thrown out of covens before?” Bluebell asked.
“It’s very rare,” Mathilda said. “The last time it happened was in the 1920s. A witch was illegally using her knowledge of time to buy stocks. She unwittingly caused a stock market crash that led to the great depression. Her punishment was to be ostracized completely.”
“What happened to her?”
“She went mad,” Mathilda said. “People often do when they lose half their soul and all their magic.”
Bluebell shuddered. “Well, I can’t imagine that happening to one of us. Everyone’s been so nice to me so far.”
“Hector seemed nervous, you say?” Mathilda asked.
Bluebell nodded. “He’s a treasurer at the Ministry of Magic, isn’t he?”
“Magical Ministry,” Mathilda said. Thoughtfully, she tapped her chin. “I wonder.”
“Do you… do you think he stole something?” Bluebell asked.
But Mathilda was lost in her own thoughts. Only now, Bluebell remembered how she had been staring fixedly ahead while Sutter made his announcement. Could it be that Mathilda too had a secret? One that she was thinking of confessing to Sutter?
“Well.” Mathilda suddenly gave a loud yawn and stretched her arms wide. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a nice bubble bath with some lavender and mint. I’ll probably fall asleep in the tub too.”
“I’m hungry.” Bluebell patted her stomach. “I’ll probably go down to the kitchen and—”
“Uh-uh.” Mathilda blocked her. “You’re forbidden from wandering this house without me, remember?”
“Well then… do you have some biscuits?” Bluebell asked.
“Don’t be silly, Bluebell.” Mathilda smiled. “Just ring the bell and ask for what you want. I’m off to take my bath. Don’t leave the room till I’m back.”
Bluebell looked around, confused, and then saw the bell Mathilda was referring to. It was a plain bronze bell hanging from a chain. She walked up and shook it twice. Instantly, a ghostly apparition was in front of her - a butler wearing a bowtie and a silvery suit, a tray in his hand. “Yes, madam?”
“Er… I’d like a sandwich please,” she said. “Maybe some fries too?”
“Of course, madam,” he replied, and vanished with a bow.
*****
Chapter 5
A Murder In The Library
The sandwich was delicious. Bluebell wondered if the ghost had made it, then decided she’d rather not know. It was warm and toasty, with brie cheese, turkey and roasted bell peppers. That’s all she needed to know. The fries weren’t terrific - they were more wedges than fries, really - but she ate them with relish nonetheless.
Sitting on the sofa in the living area, she wondered if the TV would have magical channels, then changed her mind and decided to rest her head against the window. The view was magnificent - she could see mountains in the distance, and a lake glimmering in the sun. Clouds were forming overhead now, and fog was beginning to roll down the mountain. If she was right, it’d be a rainy evening today.
With a sigh, she put the plates aside, and stretched out on the sofa, dropping her flip flops on the floor. She glanced at the watch on her hand - only 4 o’clock - and then gave a jump when she heard a resounding crash.
Forgetting Mathilda’s warning, she rushed into the hallway. Ewan had opened his door too, and was peeking out. “Was that you?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “You?”
He shook his head. “Let’s go find out.”
They both peeked down the stairs, and could see Angelina scolding the ghost butler. A tea-tray lay on the ground with shattered china around it, and a stain was spreading over her shirt.
Muttering under her breath, Angelina climbed up the stairs, and headed to her room.
“Chamomile tea.” Ewan sniffed as she passed by. “That’s supposed to help with relaxation, so relax, Angie.”
“Must you call me Angie? You know I hate that name,” she said. “And this is an expensive top. I can’t believe he ruined it. I’m going to go take a nice long bath and get clean now. I’ll have to throw the top away, of course.”
“Er, you can wash it, you know,” Ewan said.
“Never mind that. I’ll just throw it away.”
“Ah rich actors and their rich habits.” Ewan sighed. “Would that I had that much money.”
Grumbling, Angelina slammed the door behind her.
“Weren’t you having a drink with Hector?” Bluebell asked.
“I was,” Ewan said. “Then he suddenly left.”
“Oh?” Bluebell was intrigued. “Do you think he went to talk to Sutter?”
“I know he did,” Ewan said with a smile. He winked at her. “Can I tell you a secret, Bluebell?”
She leaned in, wondering what he was about to reveal.
“I think Hector’s the guilty party,” Ewan whispered. “He looked awfully nervous to me ever since Sutter made that ominous speech about how he knows.”
“I thought he looked nervous too.” Bluebell nodded. “Do you really think…?”
“Anything’s possible.” Ewan shrugged. “I won’t be surprised.”
“I hope it’s nothing bad,” Bluebell said.
“Yes, this is rather a damper for you, isn’t it?” Ewan asked. “Well, at least it’s great weather out here for now.”
“I think it’s going to rain soon,” Bluebell said.
“All the more reason to make hay while the sun shines,” Ewan said. “There’s a tennis court in the backyard. Want to play a few sets with me?”
“Well…” Bluebell looked toward her room uncertainly. “Mathilda told me not to leave the room without her. I should be going back.”
“Oh, come on, just a set.” Ewan smiled at her beguilingly. “Exercise never did anyone harm. Besides, I’ll bring you back here myself. Mathilda just didn’t want you wandering around alone.”
“All right,” Bluebell said reluctantly. “Just one set, okay?”
“Just one game.” He smiled. “Let’s go.”
They played on a clay court a little distance from the house. Ewan was way out of Bluebell’s league, and trounced her quite easily. Bluebe
ll laughed when he jokingly pretended to be hit by a ball, and then sent it shooting back toward her.
“All right. I give up. What are you, a professional?” she asked.
“I was, actually.” Ewan smiled. “I played up to the quarterfinals at Wimbledon.”
“Good Lord,” Bluebell said. “Then it doesn’t make a difference that I was even on the tennis court! The result would have been the same either way.”
She wiped off her sweat with a towel, and saw Oliver observing them from the sidelines.
“What, you want to get your game on, man?” Ewan pointed the racket at him.
“I was looking for Mathilda, actually,” Oliver said.
“Oh, she’s taking a bath,” Bluebell said.
“Didn’t she tell you to stay with her at all times?” Oliver asked with a frown.
“Ahh, it’s all right, I won’t let anything happen to Bluebell.” Ewan gave her a one handed hug, and she wiggled away squealing.
“You’re too sweaty, Ewan.”
“Come on, Oliver, best of 3? I’ll bet you a hundred dollars I win with more than a set to spare.”
“All right,” Oliver said, tossing his jacket aside and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Let’s do this!”
“Woohoo!” Ewan gave a happy little whoop and wriggled his shoulders. “Game on!”
“I’m exhausted,” Bluebell said. “You mind if I sneak in and get a coke for myself?”
Both the boys were already engrossed in the game. Ewan hit the first serve with what could only be described as a battle cry.
Bluebell knew she wasn’t supposed to wander off alone, but the house was right there, and she honestly didn’t think she would get lost. Besides, she was so thirsty and she told herself she’d come right back out.
She slipped away as the men kept playing, and walked through knee-high grass toward the house. From this angle, the house looked even prettier. You could see the windows reflecting the setting sun. Bluebell paused, and squinted. The reflecting light and the distance made it hard for her to see clearly, but she was almost sure that she’d seen a person shimmying down the pipeline!
“What on earth?” Bluebell murmured to herself. “Who would do that? That’s dangerous!”
She jogged a little closer. The figure was bending in the garden, and the grass obstructed her view.
“Hello?” she called.
Whoever it was, must have heard her, but instead of looking around, they simply vanished. An invisibility spell? More confused than ever, Bluebell ran over to the area she’d seen the figure.
It was a flower bed with roses. A single, big footprint was in the middle of it, where someone had trodden on the dirt. Confused, Bluebell bent closer to examine it. Whoever had made this print had a huge foot. It was at least a size 12. A big man.
Funny. But what’s that?
Bluebell leaned a little more, careful not to get her hair caught in the bushes. A small rectangular black object lay on the ground. She picked it up and turned it this way and that. It was a small plastic rectangle with a single button on it. She pressed the button and nothing happened.
Shrugging, Bluebell walked to the house and rang the doorbell. The ghost butler opened the door for her.
“High Priest Sutter has forbidden you from being alone in the house,” he said disapprovingly.
“Well, tell High Priest Sutter I was with Ewan and Oliver. I just came to get a coke and I’m going right back to the tennis court,” Bluebell said.
The ghost butler raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Well, could you get me a coke please?” Bluebell smiled.
“At once madam,” he said.
“Actually, I had a question, when you spilt the tea on Angelina, did it stain your clothes too? I mean, those clothes you’re wearing are real, right?” She reached out a hand to touch his tuxedo.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, madam,” the butler said icily. Turning around, he glided away.
“Well, he didn’t like being reminded of his flaws,” Bluebell said to herself.
“Do you often talk to yourself?” Angelina said, appearing on the staircase.
“Oh, hey Angelina.” Bluebell smiled. “No I was just asking the butler if his clothes got dirty when he spilt the tea and he looked annoyed.”
“Really?” She looked bored. “Well where is everyone? I’m sick of hanging around alone in my room. Is it dinner time yet?”
Bluebell glanced at her watch. “Afraid not. It’s only 6pm.”
“Ah, there you are,” Gertrude said, walking out of the passageway that led to the library. “Do you know who’s in the library with Sutter?”
“No,” Angelina said.
“Well, I was passing by right now and I heard voices inside. A man was shouting. Positively nasty,” Gertrude said.
“Has to be Hector,” Bluebell said. “Oliver and Ewan are outside playing tennis.”
“It didn’t sound like Hector,” Gertrude said doubtfully. “Then again, what do I know. The voices weren’t very clear, they actually sounded far away. But it was coming from inside the library, and it was definitely a man cursing.”
“Funny you should say that.” Mathilda appeared too, a towel tied up around her head. “I went over to the library about an hour ago to look for my dear pupil Bluebell, who had promised me she’d stay in the room…” She gave Bluebell a look, and Bluebell looked at her shoes. “Anyway, I went to the library thinking maybe Bluebell would be there, and I heard a man shouting at Sutter too.”
“When was this?” Angelina asked. “Was it after I borrowed shampoo from you? You were asking about Bluebell then.”
Mathilda nodded. “Right after that you went to take your bath and I went downstairs to hunt for Bluebell.”
“Did you hear what he was saying?”
“Well, I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Mathilda said. “No, I didn’t hear what he said. But there were angry, raised voices. That much I’m sure of.”
The butler appeared again. “Your coke, my lady,” he said.
“Thanks,” Bluebell said gratefully. She took the ice-cold can from him and put it to her lips. A few sips later, her thirst was finally quenched. Smacking her lips, she set the can down.
Oliver and Ewan entered through the front door, chatting merrily with each other. Ewan had the tennis racket slung across his shoulders and was walking with the swagger of a man who has just beaten another.
“Awesome.” Bluebell smiled. “Looks like Ewan won the game.”
“Well, with a little more practice, Oliver can easily beat me.” Ewan smiled. “He’s really good.”
“I never get the time to practice,” Oliver said. “I’m always working.”
“Of course, you are.” Mathilda’s voice was trying to be friendly, but it was a little too sharp.
“Mathilda, please. Not in front of the coven.”
“All right. Sorry.” She raised her hands and went over to the coffee table. Choosing a magazine, she began to flip through it. The others stood looking at each other awkwardly.
“When will we have the initiation ceremony, do you think?” Angelina asked, trying to break the silence. “Tomorrow night perhaps? There’s a full moon.”
“Yes,” Gertrude said. “That seems like the right time to—”
A scream reverberated through the house.
“What on earth?” Gertrude put a hand to her heart. “Who could that be?”
“Sutter! Sutter! No!” A man was screaming.
“It’s Hector, from the library.” Oliver immediately ran down the passageway. Ewan and Bluebell looked at each other, and immediately followed him in a run.
The screams turned to sobs as they approached the library. Bluebell felt her blood run cold. One of the two heavy oak doors that led to the library were open, letting a sliver of light outside, but the light was odd. Instead of being a single beam, it was as if hundreds of glass shards were reflecting light.
Almost immediately,
Bluebell could guess what had happened. Her heart beat faster, and she prayed that she was wrong. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be.
“He’s dead!” Hector said hysterically. “He’s dead, oh someone help me!”
“What happened?” Oliver bent besides Hector, trying to calm him. There was no real reason to ask what had happened, it was immediately apparent.
The chandelier had fallen on Sutter. It was a heavy thing, and weighed nearly seventy pounds. As a result, he was crushed dead.
“Murder!” Hector shouted. “This is murder!”
“Now Hector, calm down,” Ewan said. “It’s a horrible accident, that’s all.”
“No, the cable holding the chandelier was as thick as my wrist,” Hector said. “It’s been neatly severed in one stroke. Someone used magic to cut it and kill him!”
*****
Chapter 6
The Scene Of The Crime
“One thing is clear,” Mathilda said. “We can’t call the police. This is an investigation for your department, Oliver.”
They were all at the bar. Once they’d discovered it was a murder, Oliver had immediately sealed the library and ordered them to clear out. The department would be sending men over soon, Oliver said.
The bar was housed in a room with large french windows that looked out into a well manicured garden with a small fish pond in the center. Hector was passed out on the sofa, snoring loudly. He’d been hysterical after Sutter’s death, and Oliver had hypnotized him in order to calm him down. It had worked a little too well. Bluebell remembered her own attempts at hypnotizing people. It was tricky business, and only advanced witches could get it done as efficiently as Oliver did.
Angelina, Ewan, Mathilda and Bluebell sat on round stools at the bar, while Oliver and Gertrude poured out drinks.
“Well?” Ewan asked, as he gulped down a shot of tequila. “Is anyone going to say it?”
“Ewan… can’t we just sit in silence?” Angelina asked.
“I’ll say it,” Ewan said. “It has to be one of us. More specifically, it can only be one of us. Hector did it.”
Murder At The Coven: A Witch Cozy Mystery (A Bluebell Knopps Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 3