Witch is Why It Was Over

by Adele Abbott

  “That’ll be lovely, Mum. Friday it is. Bye, then.”

  “Your mum?”

  “Yeah. She’s coming down on Friday afternoon and staying the weekend.”

  “Just her?”

  “Yes. Dad’s been invited to visit an old school friend, apparently. We don’t have anything planned this weekend, do we?”

  “Not as far as I’m aware.”

  “You didn’t mind me telling Mum she could come, did you?”

  “Of course not. Yvonne and I are big buddies now.”

  “Great. I’d better get going. I promised I’d try to get in early this morning.”

  When I heard his car pull off the drive, I gave Yvonne a call.

  “Yvonne, it’s Jill.”

  “Jack’s told you I’m coming down, I take it?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I called. Is anything wrong?”

  “Only that I’m worried about you. I heard on the grapevine that Rex Wrathbringer has said he’s confident that the mission will be completed within the next week.”

  “I take it that I’m the mission?”

  “Yes. From what I can gather, the witchfinders have reported back that they have you in their sights. Have you identified them yet?”

  “I think so. A weird couple moved into one of the houses across the street. I’m almost certain that they’re Vinnie and Minnie Dreadmore.”

  “Do they both have grey hair?”

  “I don’t know. They wear balaclavas all the time—probably to hide their hair. Yvonne, can you think of any reason why they would need a lot of buckets?”

  “Buckets? No, why?”

  “They bought sixty-seven of them from our local corner shop.”

  “That is strange, but then I’ve heard it said that their methods are rather unconventional. What about The Rose? Any sightings of her?”

  “None. Look, it would be lovely to see you, but do you really think it’s necessary to come down here?”

  “Probably not, but I’ll feel better if I’m there. Maybe I’ll spot something you haven’t. And besides, I’ve told Jack that I’m coming now.”

  “What about Roy? Why doesn’t he come too?”

  “He really is going to visit an old school friend.”

  “Okay, I look forward to seeing you, then.”

  “Make sure to be on your guard. I take it you’re prepared in case the Dreadmores make their move before then?”

  “Yeah. I have plenty of Brewflower at hand.”

  “Good. See you on Friday.”

  I’d no sooner finished on the call to Yvonne than my phone rang. I assumed she’d forgotten to tell me something, but it turned out to be Kathy.

  “Jill. Meet me on West Street in forty-five minutes, would you?”

  “Morning to you, too. What’s happening on West Street?”

  “You’ll see. Don’t be late.”

  “But, Kathy—”

  She’d already hung up.

  I had to gobble down my breakfast in order to get to West Street on time. Whatever this was, it had better be worth my getting indigestion for.

  ***

  “So? What do you think?” Kathy had a huge grin on her face.

  “About what?” I glanced around.

  “This!” She pointed to the empty shop. “Welcome to the future Kathy’s Bridal Shop.”

  I peered through the grimy window. “It’s going to need a lot of work from the look of it. It’s in a good position, though—just off the high street.”

  “We could have had either of these.” She gestured to the shop next-door which was also vacant. “This one is slightly more expensive, but it’s virtually on the corner of the high street.”

  “Are you sure you can afford it? Wouldn’t you be better off across town? I imagine the rents over there are a fraction of these.”

  “They are, but there’s a reason for that. The footfall on the high street is ten times what it is over there. Pete’s done the maths, and he reckons even on the most conservative estimates, we should be able to afford this place.”

  “In that case, I’m really pleased for you. How long do you reckon it will take to get it ready to open?”

  “I know it looks pretty grim at the moment, but structurally there’s nothing to be done. It’s just a case of cleaning it up, giving it a lick of paint, and then getting the shopfitters in. We reckon it will take at least three months. We’re planning to do all the initial work ourselves to save money. I thought you could help us.”

  “Me and Jack?”

  “I wouldn’t expect Jack to help. He must be busy with his own job.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “It’ll be fun: the two of us working side-by-side.”

  “Sounds like a barrel of laughs. Will you be employing anyone to work in the shop once it’s open?”

  “Initially, probably not. We thought we’d see how it goes, and then bring someone in part-time if we need to.”

  “Well congrats. I’d better get going. I’ve got a busy day ahead.”

  ***

  On my way into the office, I decided to check out Nailed-It before it opened for business. Just like Deli, it demonstrated little by way of good taste. The window was covered in posters that looked like they’d been designed by someone without even a rudimentary knowledge of graphic design. Lizzie could have made a better job of them. But the centrepiece of the window was a life-size cardboard cut-out, not of Deli, but of Nails. Printed on the cut-out, in Comic Sans font, were the words: Washbridge’s Premier Nail Technician.

  I’d expected to find Jules in the office, but Mrs V was all alone.

  “Morning, Mrs V. Shouldn’t Jules be in today?”

  “She’s taken a few days off. Have you forgotten?”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember now.”

  “Sometimes I worry about you, Jill.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “I’m not talking about Jules. I’ve never known why you put up with that smelly cat, but this is a step too far even for you.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I know some people like to dress up dogs, but I’ve never heard of anyone doing it with cats.”

  “Dressing up? Err—excuse me a moment, would you? There’s something I need to do.”

  I went through to my office where I found his whiskersness parading around the room.

  “What do you think?” he said. “Do I look good or what?”

  “Where did you get the tux from?”

  “Feline Tux Hire. You obviously weren’t going to suggest my being a pagecat to the old bag lady, so I figured I’d better drop a few subtle hints.”

  “Subtle? You call this subtle?”

  “Did she say anything? Was she impressed? I bet she was.”

  “She thinks I dressed you in that, and that I’ve lost my mind.”

  “If you mentioned the pagecat thing to her, she’d realise that you weren’t crazy.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  He sighed. “It doesn’t look like there’s going to be a wedding invite for me, then.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you do look pretty sharp in that.”

  ***

  It was time to have another word with Thomas Bradley. All my instincts told me that he knew more about his brother’s murder than he was letting on, and that there was a good chance he was in fact the murderer.

  He’d readily agreed to meet with me at his office again, so either he really didn’t have anything to hide, or as his wife had suggested, he was supremely arrogant. It was time to find out which.

  “Have you made any progress?” he asked, after Ruth Foot had brought through coffee for the two of us.

  “Not really.”

  “Oh? I assumed that’s why you wanted another meeting.”

  “Actually, I wanted to press you on a few matters.”

  “Go ahead. I’ve nothing to hide.”

  “Both you and Georgina insisted that Stephen knew nothing of your affair.”

&nb
sp; “That’s right. We were very discreet.”

  “Not discreet enough, apparently. I have good reason to believe that Stephen did know what was going on.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “That’s not important. Not only did he know, but I understand that he intended to confront you about the affair on the night he was murdered.”

  “That’s absolute nonsense. Whoever told you that is lying.”

  “I believe you knew the confrontation was coming, which is why you told the cleaner not to come in that night.”

  “More nonsense. I wasn’t the one who told the cleaner to stay away.”

  “She says you did.”

  “Then she’s mistaken or lying.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “I have no idea, but then I also have no idea why you’re wasting my time with these ridiculous questions. Is there anything else? I do have a rather busy day ahead of me.”

  “No, that’s all. Thank you for your time.”

  This guy was one of the coolest customers I’d ever encountered. Even though I’d practically accused him of murdering his brother, he’d never once lost his composure. When I left, he was just as calm as when I’d arrived.

  Had I got it badly wrong about Thomas Bradley?

  I wasn’t able to dwell on that thought for long because, just as I was leaving the Nexler Building, my phone rang.

  “Is that Jill?”

  “Speaking.”

  “It’s Scott Bassett from Pooch First.”

  “Hi.”

  “First of all, I wanted to say how pleased I am with Barry’s photos. They’re magnificent.”

  “Thanks. We thought so. Let’s hope the advertisers do too.”

  “There are no worries on that score. In fact, that’s the main reason for calling you. One of my other models was due to take part in a photoshoot for a doggy-bed company today, but the poor lad has come down with a cold. The client has to go ahead with the shoot, otherwise they’ll miss the TV slots they’ve got booked. Anyway, long story short, they’d like Barry to take his place if that’s possible?”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah. I realise it’s short notice.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be able to manage that.”

  “The money’s good. Six-hundred pounds.”

  “What time do you need us to be there?”

  “In two hours. Can you manage that?”

  “Of course. Barry would be devastated to miss out on the chance. Give me the address, and we’ll be there.”

  I magicked myself straight over to Aunt Lucy’s.

  “Hi, Jill. Thanks for what you did at Cuppy C. The twins were really worried they’d lost their livelihood.”

  “No problem. By the way, I think you might be right about Grandma turning over a new leaf. She actually praised me for solving the ‘softer’ spell mystery.”

  “I told you, didn’t I? It’s taken long enough, but it looks like she’s finally begun to mellow in her old age. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Not for me, thanks. I’m here for Barry, actually. He’s got his first modelling assignment.”

  “When?”

  “In a couple of hours.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “What do you mean: oh dear?”

  “We’ve just come back from our walk in the park. You’d better take a look for yourself. He’s in the back garden.”

  I hurried through the house, and out of the back door.

  “Jill!” Barry, or at least something Barry-shaped, came rushing towards me.

  “No! Don’t jump—”

  Too late. He’d already planted his huge, muddy paws on my chest.

  “We’ve been for a walk, Jill. It was great!”

  “Did you go in the lake, by any chance?”

  “I wanted to say hello to the ducks.”

  “You’re absolutely filthy.”

  “I’m sorry about the state of him, Jill.” Aunt Lucy had followed me outside. “I tried to stop him, but you know how he is when he gets excited. I was going to leave him out here until he’d dried off, and then try to get him clean.”

  “There isn’t time for that if he’s going to make it to the commercial shoot.”

  “Commercial?” Barry’s tail began to wag. “Am I going to be on TV?”

  “You were supposed to be.”

  “Brilliant! Let’s get going.”

  “You can’t turn up looking like that.”

  “Please, Jill. This is my big break.”

  “Hold on. I’ve had an idea.” I grabbed my phone, and made a call.

  ***

  The woman at Woof Wash didn’t bat an eyelid when she saw the state of Barry.

  “Thanks for squeezing us in like this. He’s in a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.”

  “No problem. It isn’t every day that we get to treat a supermodel.”

  “That’s me, Jill.” Barry was barely visible through the soap suds. “I’m a supermodel.”

  “Not yet you aren’t. Keep still or you won’t be ready in time.”

  “I’m keeping still. Look, I’m like a statue.”

  Fifty minutes later, Barry looked and smelled like a new dog. I paid the woman, including a generous tip, and then the two of us hurried to Candlefield Lighthouse Studios. We got there just in time for the shoot. I was rather disappointed not to be allowed on set to see Barry in action. Instead, I was forced to kick my heels in reception.

  Just over an hour later, he reappeared, accompanied by a young witch.

  “Jill? I’m Maddy.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Fantastic. I understand this is Barry’s first assignment?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’d never know it. He’s a natural. He takes directions really well.”

  “Does he?” Knowing how difficult it was for me to get Barry to do anything, that came as quite a pleasant surprise.

  “Absolutely. He made our job much easier. We’ll be giving him good feedback to the agency. He should get plenty of work.”

  “Thanks.” I patted Barry. “Well done, Boy.”

  “Does that mean I’m a supermodel now?”

  “I guess so.”

  ***

  After dropping Barry back at Aunt Lucy’s, I went over to Cuppy C.

  “Look.” Amber tapped the counter. “It’s not floppy.”

  “Everything’s back to normal then, I take it?”

  “Yeah. Including Pearl skiving off again. She’s gone shopping with Alan.”

  “You don’t seem too concerned?”

  “Nah, I don’t mind. William and I will have our turn at the weekend. I’m just pleased the shop is back to normal.”

  “Does that mean the muffins are on the house for me today?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. A muffin, though. Singular.”

  “Thanks. This is kind of a celebration.”

  “How come?”

  “Barry has just finished his first modelling assignment.”

  “I bet it was a nightmare.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t. According to the people at the studio, Barry is a natural. They think he’ll get plenty of work.”

  “It’s a pity it doesn’t pay better. Mum said you’d told her that he’d only make a pittance.”

  “Err—yeah, that’s right. It’s barely worth my time really. I only do it for Barry’s sake.”

  “You’re a good egg, Jill.”

  “I do my best.”

  What? Okay, so I’m a smelly, rotten, bad egg. Satisfied? Sheesh—judgemental or what?

  ***

  My next port of call was the maze at Washbridge Country Hall. I found the Blues Brothers, Bobby and Billy, at the centre of the maze. Until I’d put a stop to their little game, these two had got their kicks from scaring the guests and workers who ventured into the maze.

  Bobby Blue had his head under his arm—old habits die hard, I guess.

  “What do you want?” Billy said. “We haven
’t taken any more Spookberry.”

  “Don’t send us back to GT,” Bobby’s detached head said.

  “Relax. I’m not here for you two. I need your help.”

  “Why should we help you?”

  “So that I don’t remember what you were up to, and inform the authorities.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “I prefer to call it—err—no, you’re right. It is blackmail.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I need to get hold of Homer Range.”

  “We don’t know where he is.”

  “I can tell you’re lying because your lips are moving. Now, are you going to tell me, or shall I make a call to the GT police?”

  “Don’t do that,” Billy said. “I have his business card; his phone number is on there.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen. As always, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  Chapter 17

  When I got back, Deli was seated in the outer office, talking to Mrs V. Well, not so much talking to her as talking at her.

  “Hi, Jill.” Deli greeted me with a green lipstick smile. “Been out crime-busting?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Annabel and I have been having a good old chinwag, haven’t we?”

  “We certainly have.” Mrs V rolled her eyes. “I was just telling Mrs Lane how busy we are.”

  “Enough of the Mrs Lane, Annabel. I’ve told you to call me Deli. Everyone does.”

  “Of course.” Mrs V forced a smile. “I was just telling Deli how extremely busy we are. Isn’t that right, Jill?”

  “That’s right. We’ve got so much work on at the moment that it isn’t even funny.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Deli stood up. “I said to myself, that young Jill is overdoing it. She needs to take more breaks, or she’ll make herself ill. That’s why I popped by—for a coffee and a chat.” She turned to Mrs V. “Make Jill and me a coffee, would you, Annabel? And bring it through to Jill’s office.”

  Before I could object, Deli took me by the arm, and practically frogmarched me through to my office.

  “What’s that daft cat of yours wearing?”

  “It’s—err—well, it’s err—”