Our food arrived then, so we paused to tuck in. Serious though our conversation might be, I was famished. I was nothing compared to Kitty, though. She chowed through her fish in under a minute, so I ordered her another serving. As Melissa and I sat waiting for her to finish (and happily stroking her fur while she ate) Finn Plimpton walked in, took off his helmet, and sat at our table.
‘Cute cat,’ he said briefly, before turning to the waitress. ‘Can I have the Hungry Hippy special please? And a coffee. The largest coffee you’ve got. Thanks.’
He absentmindedly stroked the cat as he turned back to us. ‘I see you two had the same idea as I did. Get as far away from the lunching politicians as possible. I don’t think I need to tell you that, so far, nothing has happened except a lot of ranting and raving from all sides of the chamber.’ He looked more carefully at the cat. ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’
Kitty looked up at Finn, and smiled. ‘You go to the Flying Club. Your mother is friends with Candace’s mother.’
‘Hey, that’s right! You’re Candace’s Kitty. So what are you doing with these two reprobates? Last time I spoke to Candace she didn’t have too many good things to say about Wanda.’
I moved closer to Finn, lowered my voice, and explained the situation.
‘Well, she definitely hasn’t been reported missing,’ he remarked with a frown when I’d finished. ‘Not that I’ve heard of. I saw her parents only yesterday, and they didn’t say anything at all about Candace. If there was anything the matter with her, surely they would have mentioned something.’
‘That is really weird,’ said Melissa. ‘Really. But I know one thing for sure, Kitty. There’s no way she’d just abandon you.’
‘I want to believe that she wouldn’t,’ Kitty replied, nudging her plate away with her nose. ‘Most of me does believe that she wouldn’t. That’s why I’m so worried.’
Finn’s coffee arrived, and he took a long glug. ‘I needed that. But listen, we can solve this pretty fast, Kitty. My cousin Lucy goes to school with Candace. I’ll speak to her this evening. See what she knows. Because when it comes to ferreting out information, there is nothing as good as a ten-year-old girl.’
≈
We left Finn to his Hungry Hippy special (black bean burger, sweet potato fries and a lot of salad) and made our way outside.
‘I guess I’d better get back to work,’ said Melissa, with a face that said she would rather walk on coals than return to the Wyrd Court. ‘What about you?’
‘I’ve got a dodgy healer to investigate, and a vampire suspected of turning humans without their consent. It’ll be a busy one. In between, I’ll try to find out what I can about Candace. But I’ve got tonight off, at least. Max has a shift at the Water Bowl, so I’m going to keep him company. You’re welcome to join us. Just ... meet us at the top of Eile Street first. The bouncers at the Water Bowl can be a bit overenthusiastic.’
Melissa regarded me with confusion. ‘Weren’t you just complaining the other day about not getting to see Gabriel enough? You’ve got your first night off for ages and you’re spending it at the Water Bowl?’
I shrugged. ‘Gabriel’s got some dinner with the TV execs tonight. I didn’t fancy it.’
‘So he invited you? And you said no?’
I held Kitty out. ‘Hey, look. Isn’t she so fluffy? Wanna give her one last rub before we split?’
Melissa wagged her finger at me. ‘I know you’re only trying to distract me,’ she said, lowering her finger and stroking the cat. ‘But who cares when the distraction is this cute?’
3. Benny and the Jeffs
Max and I had been back at Westerly Crescent for about two weeks. We both enjoyed spending time with our loved ones in Riddler’s Cove, but there was nothing quite like having our own space. Our TV was newer, for starters. When I got home at seven, Max was in front of it, equal parts snoring and drooling.
I tickled his feet. ‘Wake up, Maxie. Time to get to work.’
He sat up with a judder. ‘What? I didn’t eat the pie.’
I flopped onto the couch beside him. ‘I bet you did. I bet you ate all the pie and didn’t leave me any.’
He wiped his eyes. ‘What? I was dreaming ... about ... can’t remember now.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Oh, pixie piddle. I have to go to work already?’ He jumped to his feet and searched the room for his shoes.
‘Dizzy’s gone out for the evening,’ he said. ‘He’s met some lady bat, and they’re going to hang out outside a house where some teenage girls are having a sleepover. They’re going to fly at the poor girls, get in their hair and scare the living daylights out of them. Not my idea of a date, but each to their own. What does that expression even mean – the living daylights?’
I shook my head in bemusement. I had no idea, either.
Dizzy, my bat familiar, had been afraid to leave the house for a long time. That can happen when you’re on the run from a murderous evil warlock, like Dizzy had been when we met. But now that the warlock in question was in Witchfield, Dizzy was finally going out at night. I missed him, but I was happy he was making progress – even if that progress did involve scaring some innocent teenagers.
Max suddenly noticed the kitten. ‘Oh my stars! You’re so fluffy!’ He cast me a worried glance. ‘A murder?’
I shook my head. ‘This is Candace’s familiar. You know, the girl who was in all those classes I had to take a while back?’
Max rounded his eyes. ‘Your nemesis!’
‘Candace has gone missing,’ said Kitty. ‘Do you guys have any milk?’
‘Sure.’ Max grinned, stroking her head. ‘We’ve got soy, almond and oat milk in the fridge right now. Which do you prefer?’
The kitten looked at me, puzzled. ‘What did he just say?’
‘Max is a vegan,’ I explained. ‘We don’t keep dairy in the house. But plant milk is yummy.’
She scrunched her beautiful little nose. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’
As Max took the cat to the kitchen to try out some milk, I picked up my buzzing mobile phone. A text message had come through from Finn:
Candace hasn’t been at school or at the Flying Club for days. Her parents are saying she has the flu, and is too contagious to have visitors. I have to go back into government chambers now, but do you want me to do anything else when I get out?
I texted back quickly:
Thanks, Finn. I’ll keep looking into it for now. If I need anything more I’ll let you know.
≈
There were three customers in total when we walked in to the Water Bowl that night. It was Max’s second week there, and he seemed to be getting the hang of things. The night before, he told me proudly that he had only spilled three pints over customers. Progress.
It definitely wasn’t Max’s ideal job, but he had been let go from the dog kennels where he used to work, after the new owners decided to cull the charitable side of their operation. Max had argued with them about it, and they had once again proved their loving, charitable nature by firing him. Rover, the owner of the Water Bowl, had come to the rescue. He offered Max as many shifts as he wanted until he found other work.
Max went behind the bar, and I pulled out a stool. Kitty had chosen to curl up in my bed and have a snooze instead of joining us – Dizzy had arrived back just before we left, and he was keeping an eye on the cat.
As Max poured me a glass of orange juice, I looked across at the others in the bar. One of them was a weredog, and the other two were wearing collars just like mine. When I say collar, it was actually a ring – a ring designed to look like a black, studded collar. Because that’s the kind of sense of humour weredogs have. I could sense faint power radiating off one of the three guys – most definitely a witch, but perhaps not one with very much magic. The other guy, I wasn’t sure of. I was guessing wizard, though.
Lady, Rover’s sister and manager of the bar, came up beside Max, gave him a shy little ‘Hello,’ and then turned to me. ‘Hey, Wanda. How’s everything?’
I pointed to the threesome across the way.
‘Are those guys regulars?’ I asked.
Lady nodded. ‘They come in to play pool a couple of times a week. We call them Benny and the Jeffs.’ Seeing my laughter, she added, ‘Benny’s a local lad, a weredog. Then there’s Jeff the witch and Jeff the wizard. The three of them are always thick as thieves. And you know how misty-eyed my brother gets when supernaturals play nice together. He loves that they’re friends, so he gave the Jeffs collars. They all work at that big broom place in Warren Lane. Blimpton’s?’
‘Plimpton’s,’ I supplied with a scowl. ‘Even Benny works there?’
It was Lady’s turn to scowl. ‘Oh, sure he does. As the skivvy. They even had a hard time agreeing to pay Jeff the wizard a decent wage. Perfectly happy to hire others, but not so happy to treat them decently.’
I looked over at the little group again. They were huddled together, whispering furiously. Probably venting about what it was like to work at Plimpton’s. I had only recently learned that the Minister for Magical Law also owned a broom-making factory. It didn’t surprise me to find out that she was a crappy employer. But despite my anger, it warmed me to see a witch, a wizard and a weredog having a drink together. I could see why it made Rover misty-eyed. It should be a perfectly normal occurrence; unfortunately, it was rare.
Lady put her coat on and said, ‘Anyway, I’m off to a Weredog Rights meeting just up the road. Rover’ll be joining me later, but he’s in the back for now if you need anything.’
‘Up the road? Isn’t it in the community hall in Riddler’s Edge?’ I asked.
‘It was. But so many people wanted to come that we wouldn’t have had enough space. See you guys later.’ She gave Max a wistful smile, and left the pub.
‘So.’ I swivelled in my stool and shot him a cheeky grin. ‘You and Lady.’
‘Me and Lady what?’
‘Oh, come off it.’ I pulled a bowl of peanuts towards me. ‘She likes you. Do you like her back?’
‘What?’ He began to pull at the collar of his shirt. ‘She doesn’t like me. Don’t be ridiculous.’ He leaned closer to me. ‘Seriously, Wanda. Don’t go around saying stuff like that. She’s Rover’s sister. No one goes out with Rover’s sister.’
‘Oh.’ I shoved as many of the peanuts as I could into my mouth. ‘That seems a bit unfair,’ I said as I chewed. I never could manage not to talk with my mouth full – probably because I was eating ninety percent of the time. ‘It’s not like he’s the boss of her. Anyway, you’re not afraid of Rover, are you?’
Max sighed and reached into my peanut bowl. ‘Actually, no. But I’d like her to think I am. She’s lovely, but ... she’s just not my type.’
‘Gorgeous isn’t your type?’ I drained my glass, washing the peanuts down. ‘So who is your type then? Is it Emily? Please say it’s Emily.’ Emily Caulfield was yet another of Max’s admirers. She was sweet, pretty, and – most importantly – her family owned Caulfield’s Cakes.
‘You only want me to go out with Emily so you can get a discount on her grandmother’s apple tart.’
Darn it! Why did he always see through my nefarious schemes?
‘Anyway,’ he went on, passing me another juice. ‘I thought Gabriel was going to ask you to his dinner with the TV station bosses tonight. What happened with that?’
I threw some coins across the counter to pay for my drink. ‘Nothing. Nothing happened. I just ... well, it’s like this ... listen, is there any food on tonight? I could really go for a burrito around now.’
Max shook his head. ‘No food until you tell me what’s up. Gabriel is smart, funny, famous, loyal to your coven. And he’s really good looking, too.’
I picked up a nearby beer mat and read the advertisement: Wag’s Lager. Shakes the tail of any dog.
What did that even mean? ‘If you think he’s so perfect, why don’t you go out with him yourself?’ I banged my head on the bar. ‘Oh, what am I saying? He is perfect. Our relationship is going fine. It’s all ... fine.’
Just as Max was about to reply, the weredog approached the bar. ‘Three pints of Wag’s please, Max,’ he said. ‘Oh, and could you stick the TV on? We want to watch Wyrd News Nightly, if that’s okay.’
‘Sure thing, Benny.’ Max hit the remote control and turned on the television before pouring three pints. ‘How’s everything in the broom business?’
Benny rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t even talk about that place. I swear, I’m working for the devil herself.’
I turned in my stool. ‘Minister Plimpton owns the place where you work, right?’
Benny nodded. ‘Owns it. Rules it with an iron fist. Treats her workers like crap. All of the above.’ He frowned for a moment, before taking a stool and leaning closer to me. ‘You’re not a fan of hers, either, are you?’
‘Fan?’ I sniggered. ‘What are you talking about, Benny? The Minister for Magical Law is, essentially, my boss. I look up to her. I applaud her for all of her wise decisions regarding Wayfairs and Peacemakers, and I especially admire her stance on weredogs.’
Benny’s brows lifted. ‘Oh. Never mind then.’
I slapped him gently on the forearm. ‘Your sarcasm detector’s offline?’
‘What?’ He looked confused. ‘What are you talking about?’
Max placed Benny’s order on the bar. ‘Benny is what you might call a literal person, Wanda. Benny, Wanda was just playing around. It’s okay if you don’t get her sense of humour. Trust me, you’re not missing out on much. I’ll give it to you in a nutshell – Wanda does not like the Minister. In fact, Wanda hates the woman with a flaming passion. You are safe to insult the Minister as many ways as you like. Feel free to be creative with it. Okay?’
Benny let out a breath. ‘Oh, okay then. Well in that case, there are a few things I need to tell you, Wanda,’ he said. ‘We hoped that you’d start looking into it as soon as you saw the broom. Maybe you never got it?’
I blinked at him. ‘What broom? What are you talking about?’
He glanced back at the two Jeffs, and seemed about to call something over to them, when he suddenly stopped and stared up at the television above the bar. The theme tune for Wyrd News Nightly had just begun to play.
‘Actually,’ said Benny. ‘I’m just going to take these drinks back to my mates so we can watch this. Will you be here for a while, though? It’s important that we talk to you. Vitally important.’
I nodded. ‘I shall be here all night, Benny. I’ll even be taking requests. Enjoy your pint.’
Sandra, the presenter of Wyrd News Nightly, appeared on the screen. Her blonde hair was immaculately styled, her make-up was vivid, and her suit ... well, let’s just say it had shoulder-pads and leave it at that. By now you’re already quite used to the (lack of) style among witches.
Politicians were filing out through the doors of the Wyrd Court, all looking haggard, and some looking a bit drunk. I spied Agatha among them, and Sandra zeroed in on her.
‘Goodwitch Oster – or should I say Goodwitch Wayfair? You have, after all, become a member of that famous coven. How did you feel the meeting went? You were, I believe, petitioning to have your Equal Rights for Others Bill passed into law.’
Agatha scowled at the camera. ‘Ask the bloody Minister.’
Seeing as the Minister was being accosted by numerous other journalists, Sandra sprang at Finn instead. ‘Finn Plimpton, the only captain on the Peacemaking force. I believe today you were appealing to the court to have the Magical Law Act amended. You wanted to overhaul the Peacemakers, perhaps even combine Wayfairs and Peacemakers into one – as yet unnamed – force. How do you feel it went?’
‘Ask the bloody Minister,’ said Finn, charging down the steps and disappearing fr
om sight.
‘Well.’ Sandra turned to the camera, red-faced. ‘You heard it here, everyone. I need to ask the bloody Minister. But first, it’s time to go to a break.’
A succession of commercials passed by. I imagine Sandra was using the time to have a stiff drink. When the show finally returned, she was standing with none other than Justine Plimpton herself.
‘Welcome back to Wyrd News Nightly,’ said Sandra with a too-bright smile. ‘I’m here on the steps of the Wyrd Court with the Minister for Magical Law. She’s agreed to fill us in on what went on inside government chambers today. As we all know, quite a few subjects were on the table – the rights of supernaturals known as others among ... well, other things. Minister, can you tell me what decisions have been made today?’
Justine beamed at the camera. ‘As you know, Sandra, progress takes time. But I believe we have made an inroads today.’
‘Meaning what, exactly?’
‘Meaning some progress has been made.’
‘So ... are any of the laws regarding these supernaturals due for an overhaul? Will there be equal pay, equal right to legal counsel and equal voting rights?’
The Minister carried on beaming. ‘Oh no. Not at all. As I said, these things take time. But a dialogue has begun, and that, I feel, is the important thing.’
Sandra blinked. ‘Sure. That’s the important thing. And what about the second item on today’s agenda? Overhauling our policing forces. I believe your nephew, Finn Plimpton, has had some rather maverick ideas in that regard. Will we soon be seeing Wayfairs and Peacemakers united?’
The Minister’s smile – somehow – grew wider. ‘Oh no. Not at all. Not in a million years, Sandra. The Wayfairs are a law unto themselves. They cannot be trusted. And my nephew’s insistence on working with them is exactly why he has just been fired. We’ll carry on without him, leaving the Peacemakers as they are, eventually subsuming the Wayfairs work into theirs.’
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