‘Really.’ Shane lowered his voice. ‘I’m going to tell you both something, but it can’t go any further. You know how I volunteer at the orphanage on Eile Street?’
Finn and I nodded.
‘Well, Will is the sole reason that place didn’t shut down for good last month. There was a case left on my back doorstep one night, with more money inside than I’ve ever seen before. Will’s the one who left it there.’
‘How do you know it was him?’ I asked.
‘Because I saw him fly away. Will is many things, but unrecognisable isn’t one of them. He’s kind of an Adonis, don’t you think?’
I sucked out the remainder of my cool pop, trying not to let Shane see just how much I agreed with that statement.
Luckily, I was saved by the bell – well, by Paul standing up and saying, ‘Ding, ding! I think I’m onto a winner here, guys. Come take a look.’
≈
What Paul had for us was a glass of water, a tall, cool one with condensation dripping down the sides.
‘Oh that looks good,’ I said, reaching for the glass.
‘Don’t drink it,’ warned Paul. ‘Will’s lips have to touch it first. Just one second of contact between him and this glass is all we need. Then I’ll be able to record his physical reactions while you two interview him.’ He nodded towards his computer screen. ‘Shane will have to help me interpret the results.’
I looked at the live feed, watching Will sitting casually in his chair with his arms crossed. Next to him, his lawyer looked far from relaxed.
As I was looking at Will, a wave of worry hit me. I felt sure he didn’t kill Felix, and Finn seemed to feel the same. I just hoped this wasn’t going to turn into yet another occasion when we had to arrest someone we believed was innocent.
Just as I was pondering this, my own computer emitted the sound of wind chimes. Paul had configured my email that way, because the sound of wind chimes is so much nicer than a ping or a nothing.
I saw that the message was from Sixteen, and looked over at the lifelike robot – android, really – while I opened the message. He was seated at a desk next to Paul’s, because he worked as his assistant. Paul hadn’t changed Sixteen’s appearance for a long time. He still looked far too much like Max for my liking.
When I opened up the message, there were no words, just an image of a meadow filled with daisies.
‘This is so pretty!’ I called over to Sixteen.
The robot smiled widely. Thankfully, his smile was the one thing that didn’t remind me of Max. Sixteen’s teeth didn’t have the same caveman qualities. ‘You are welcome, Wanda Wayfair. I thought you looked sad, so I endeavoured to cheer you up with a pleasant image. I shall send you some pictures of cats playing with balls of wool next time.’
‘I love pictures of cats playing with balls of wool,’ I told the robot, approaching him and kissing his cheek. ‘But you know, you need to stop calling me Wanda Wayfair. Just Wanda will do.’
Sixteen blinked erratically. ‘I … I … I …’
‘Sixteen!’ Paul rushed towards his robot. ‘Wanda – what happened?’
I was wondering that myself. ‘He just … I dunno. He glitched or something. I didn’t do anything.’
Paul sighed. ‘I’ll have to power him down for a while. Maybe the heat is getting to him.’
Finn picked up the glass and pulled me away from Sixteen. ‘Come on, let’s get in there, Wanda. Before you break anything else.’
5. No Comment
Ever since I first met Will, at that fateful interview at Berrys’ Bottlers, I’d had a difficult time in his presence. I blamed the dimples, mostly. But the sea-green eyes took some of the fault, too. Then there was his perfect physique, his dirty-blond hair, the tone of his voice … sorry, where was I?
Ah. Yes. I was in the middle of interviewing the man with the perfect everything, and it was my most difficult interview yet. Particularly seeing as Finn just sat silently, watching Will’s reactions and leaving me to ask the questions. Questions which were going far from well. Will had already told us that he didn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder. He’d been out on his broom, alone, before he went to the studio.
‘Multiple witnesses have heard you fighting with Mandy Parker over the past few days, Mr Berry,’ I said. ‘Can you tell us what it was that you were arguing about?’
He reached for the glass of water and took a long drink before answering. ‘Where do you want me to start? Me and Mandy are always fighting about everything under the sun. There’s the fact that she says nasty things about pretty much everyone she meets. Then there’s the fact that she has a problem with every charitable contribution I make because – in her opinion – the more I spend on charity, the less I have to spend on her. Then there’s the fact that I never seem to notice when she makes miniscule changes to her hair or her appearance. Or – and this is probably the biggest one – the fact that I’ve postponed our wedding three times now.’ He let out a loud sigh. ‘So take your pick, Wanda. Because I can’t actually remember which of those things we were arguing about. Most likely it was all of the above.’
Next to Will, his lawyer was desperately trying to get his attention. He was a middle-aged man named Ranklin O’Toole. I’d seen him around the Wyrd Court before. He had a permanent five o’clock shadow, and looked like he had the weight of the magical world on his shoulders. Although, seeing as he was the Berrys’ top legal advisor, he probably had more than the weight of the magical world on his shoulders – he probably had all of the Berrys’ secrets taking up some room there, too.
‘Ahem, Will, you don’t need to answer these questions. A simple “No comment” will do.’
‘Why would I bother with that sort of nonsense?’ Will spun to face Ranklin. ‘I didn’t try to kill Mandy – and I definitely didn’t try to kill Felix. I can tell the difference between my fiancée and her stunt double, for goodness sake! Mandy smells like the French perfume I paid ten gold rounds for. Felix, on the other hand, smells like Witch Chips – the Smokey Sweet flavour. He’s always eating those things. Or at least he was. I have nothing to hide. In fact –’ He turned to face me, meeting my eyes intensely. ‘You have my permission to do a full search. My internet history, my bank accounts, my house in Riddler’s Cove, my place in Easterly Crescent. You can even search my places in Warren Lane and Everest. In fact, search all my places. Have at it.’
‘Will!’ hissed the lawyer. ‘Do you think that’s wise? You don’t need to give the Wayfarers access unless they declare you an official suspect. Even then, we can hold off a warrant for weeks, if needs be.’
Will patted his lawyer on the back. ‘Calm down, Ranklin. I told you, just like I’m telling these lovely Wayfarers sitting in front of us right now – I have nothing to hide.’
I really hoped he hadn’t. But it was time to ask the question I’d been dreading. ‘Will, have you ever heard of a poison called Blue?’
Will blinked. Then he swallowed. Then he pulled at his collar. Finally, he said, ‘No comment.’ He turned to his lawyer. ‘Get me out of here, will you Ranklin?’
≈
As soon as Finn and I left the interview room, Paul and Shane approached.
‘We were reading Will from the second he took a sip of water,’ said Paul, a dark look on his face. ‘And right up until that last question, I would have said he was innocent. But as soon as you mentioned Blue … well, Shane will tell you.’
Shane gave us a shocked shrug. ‘I can’t believe it. He was off the charts, guys. I don’t know if he’s guilty or not, but with a reaction like that to the mention of Blue … it’s not looking good.’
6. The Sword of Sylvia
Will might have refused to answer any more questions, but he never revoked his permission to search his properties. After fruitlessly searching through most of his homes, we were welcomed at his mansion on Easterly Crescent by Sylvia, his mother.
I’d been in the house before. It was where my first and only date with Will took pl
ace. I almost expected the place to smell like the burnt casserole he’d served for dinner.
‘Wanda.’ Sylvia gave me a surprisingly warm smile, pulling me aside as the rest of the Wayfarers filed past her and began to search the house. ‘Ranklin told me what’s going on. My son gave you permission to search my house, I believe.’
As she spoke the words, I felt instantly awkward. ‘We did check for ownership to make sure his permission was all we needed,’ I said. ‘This house belongs to Will, according to the Licensing, Records and Registry Department.’
‘Indeed it does, legally. All the coven’s property is in our leader’s name. It’s not a problem, Wanda. But I would like a word with you, if I may? We could speak in my private drawing room. You know, before your officers tear it apart and neglect to put it back together.’
I glanced at Finn, who gave me a nod and said, ‘Go on. But this is an official investigation, Mrs Berry. So anything you say to Wanda could be used as evidence.’
‘Of course, Captain Plimpton.’ She gave him a mock-salute and led the way through the cavernous house. Our long walk finally ended at a room that was far nicer than any of the others. It was smaller, for a start. But more importantly, it was the one room that didn’t seem to be channelling the gentlemen’s club vibe. Well, other than the bright sword that hung above the mantelpiece. There’s nothing like having some weapons on show to give a room a masculine air. I felt a glimmer of recognition as I looked upon the sword, like I’d seen it somewhere before.
‘This was the one room I got to decorate myself after I married Will’s father,’ said Sylvia, taking a seat on a comfy looking beige couch. ‘Everything else was decorated by his awful sister. Hey, what’s the name of that human writer who said all women should have a room of their own?’
‘Virginia Woolf,’ I supplied.
‘That’s the one. Well, that’s what I tried with this room. I tried to create a little sanctuary for myself within this mausoleum of a house. But I soon realised that Virginia Woolf was wrong. In certain cases, a woman doesn’t just need a room of her own. She needs an entire continent.’ She laughed wryly. ‘I came back to Ireland because my husband murdered my brother. But I wouldn’t have stayed here longer than a week, had you not managed to put my husband in Witchfield. Where he belongs.’
I sat across from her, studying her expressions. From the first moment I’d met Sylvia, I’d liked her. But when it came down to it, she was a Berry. A Berry who professed to hate her husband, but a Berry nonetheless. Just as with Will, I couldn’t allow myself to trust my intuition. No matter how much I wanted to.
‘What did you want to talk to me about, Sylvia?’
She sat forward. ‘Why, Will, of course. Wanda … I might not understand my son’s motivations for marrying Mandy Parker. But I do know this – he is one hundred percent committed to marrying that horrible girl. When he told you that you had his permission to search his properties, he said so because he has nothing to hide. He wouldn’t kill Mandy. I doubt he could kill a fly, to be honest.’ A fond look crossed her face. ‘He was always such a gentle child. No matter how much his father bullied him, it never changed who he was. Not on the inside.’
‘Sylvia … there’s really no point in appealing to me. Will is either innocent, or he’s not. Either way, we’ll find the evidence.’
‘Oh I know that.’ She stood up and plucked the sword from its holders, angling it up so that the sharp tip caught the light and gleamed. ‘You’ll always get to the truth, Wanda. You’re a Wayfarer. And I mean a real Wayfarer. Like your namesake. And mine.’
I narrowed my eyes, looking even closer at the sword.
‘You recognise it, don’t you?’ Sylvia grinned. ‘I thought you might. This is the Sword of Sylvia. Sylvia was a Wayfarer. And an ancestor of mine. She was nothing near as great or as famous as the original Wanda, mind you. Or even Gretel. But she has one or two Tall Tales to her name. It’s said she slew six hundred dragons with this sword. That’s one of the stories I’d prefer not to believe. I’m rather fond of dragons.’
I stood up and approached her. ‘May I?’ I asked.
She carefully handed the sword to me, and I felt as though I’d been jolted by electricity. I knew now why I recognised the sword. Sure, there were pictures of the Sword of Sylvia in the Magical History books, but that wasn’t what this sword was. At least, not to me. Because when I’d seen this sword before, it had been in the hands of the original Wanda. Once in a vision that took place during my coven’s initiation ceremony. The second time I saw it was when the original Wayfarer had arrived to save me from near death.
‘Isn’t the Sword of Sylvia supposed to be sealed in some unknown vault somewhere? A place so secret that no one would ever be able to find it? Maybe this sword is … something else.’
Sylvia laughed in a sheepish way. ‘You’ve got me. This is a copy. But it’s exactly like the real thing in every way. I should know. My family owns the vault where it’s kept. Wanda … there’s a story in the Shannon coven – the coven I grew up in. It’s not known to the public at large. I doubt even an Albright would be able to tell you this one. But before I married Kilian Berry, my mother told me. I think she hoped that the knowledge of my coven’s history would make me abandon the idea of marrying Kilian and joining the Berrys.’ She let out a bark of a laugh. ‘I wish it had. The Berrys are one of the only covens where the wife joins the husband’s coven instead of the other way around. I should have taken that as a warning.’
Part of me wished she would get to the point – if she even had one, other than keeping me away from the search. In the background I could hear the house being pulled apart by spells and by brute force. But even though I knew I ought to be elsewhere, I felt glued to the room. I did want to hear what Sylvia had to tell me, no matter how long she took to get there. But more than that, I wanted to keep hold of this sword. Now that the initial jolt had passed, it felt like a second skin.
‘Anyway, my mother told me …’ She bit her lip, as though wondering whether to forge ahead or not. ‘She told me that this sword was given to Sylvia – my Wayfarer ancestor – by the original Wanda herself. Sylvia …’ She took a deep breath. ‘She didn’t have a lot of power. But she had bravery, honesty and morality a hundredfold. The story goes that Wanda visited her in a dream and told her to seek the sword out. That she would be able to use it to channel the power she needed to be a great Wayfarer. When Sylvia woke up, she knew where the sword was – although the location isn’t divulged in the story – and she went and retrieved it, and became the first and only Wayfarer the Shannon coven has ever had.’
She touched my hand. ‘I’m telling you this, Wanda, because I want you to know – Will might be a Berry in name, but he’s a Shannon at heart. He’s always taken after me. You and he … you have a connection. Not just because you’re both descended from Wayfarers. But because both of you will always work towards what’s best.’
I pulled away from her, still keeping hold of the sword. ‘Sylvia … you’ve already pleaded your case for Will, so I’ll tell you again – I’ll do what I always do when I’m working a case. No more than that. If he’s innocent, I’ll prove it. If not, I’ll send him to Witchfield without a second thought.’
She sank back into the couch, shaking her head. ‘I know that. I’m not worried about that, Wanda. I know Will is innocent of this. I should have been clearer. I don’t want to plead my case for Will as far as these murders are concerned. I want … I want you to know.’
She held her head in her hands. ‘When I said Will would never hurt Mandy, I meant it. He’ll marry her, and he’ll treat her far better than his father ever treated me. But … Wanda, I know my boy. I know his heart. And when I see him look at you, I know that his heart lies in your direction. So I just want to say … don’t give up on him. I don’t know why he’s so determined to marry Mandy, but I can assure you that his reason will be a good one. But one day, whatever mess he’s in will come to an end. And when it does … when it doe
s, I know the only person he’ll want to be with is you.’
Reluctantly I laid the sword on the couch. ‘You know, if you want me to think your son didn’t set out to kill Mandy, then maybe telling me he doesn’t really love her wasn’t the best idea.’
She seemed about to reply when the door burst open. Todge, one of our Wayfarers, barged in. ‘We got a tip off, Wanda! I found a note!’
≈
Finn and I stood in the corridor with Todge, while he held up a crumpled envelope. ‘I was on the front desk when this … blur … ran past me. Two seconds later, it was gone again. I couldn’t pick anything up on the cameras or find anything amiss, but this was on the desk.’
I took the envelope from his hands. It was covered with sticky fingerprints. ‘Did it come with the jam, Todge?’
Todge looked at his boots. ‘No, Detective Wayfair. That was my jam, Ma’am.’
I wanted to be annoyed with him, but I was hardly perfect myself – and I’d definitely had jam-covered fingers on many an occasion. I pulled out a short, handwritten note that had even more jam on it than the envelope, carefully dropping both into a plastic baggy before beginning to read:
Will Berry tried to kill Mandy Parker. I saw him leave the house with some poison early this morning and put it back in the safe a few minutes later. You’ll find the jar filled with Blue in the second largest billiard room, behind a wall filled with spare cues, which, when the third cue from the top is pulled three times will reveal a false wall, which, when the smudge of green paint is rubbed four times will reveal a false bookcase, which …
It went on with more directions, and Finn and I read them quickly while we searched for the second largest billiard room.
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