by Adele Abbott
“I can’t see anything,” Binns said.
“Look closer. They’re very small.”
Archie and Binns both stooped down to get a closer look.
“I don’t understand,” Archie said.
“Perhaps we should ask Jimmy to explain.” I turned to Underlake.
By now, all the colour had drained from Underlake’s face.
“Have you lost your voice, Jimmy? I’ll help you out.” I picked up the plastic container. “This little fellow has a staple diet of rubber. He just can’t get enough of it. Jimmy here is a big fan of these little creatures. In fact, he keeps a supply of old tyres in his back garden just to feed them, don’t you, Jimmy?”
Underlake said nothing, so I continued, “If you take a look inside the drum.” I pointed to the washing machine that Jimmy had just unsealed. “I’m sure you’ll find a number of this guy’s little friends. It’s easy for Jimmy to place the bugs inside the drums before the machines are sealed. No one would ever spot them unless they were looking for them. As soon as the bugs become hungry they make a meal of the rubber seal. And the best part is, the first wash will flush them away, so no one will ever see them. Ingenious, really.”
“What’s this all about, Jimmy?” Archie challenged him.
“You asked for it, Archie!” Underlake spat the words. “That job was supposed to be mine. You all but promised it to me.”
“Pack up your things, and get out of here!” Archie pointed to the door. “And think yourself lucky I’m not going to call the police.”
Underlake said something under his breath, scowled at me, and then pushed past us.
“I would never have believed it,” Archie said, once Underlake had left. “He’s been with me for years.”
“I’m surprised you decided not to call in the police,” I said.
“When I appointed Bob as factory manager, I should at least have explained to Jimmy why I’d overlooked him. I didn’t, and that’s on me. I owe him this much.”
“What will you do now?” I asked.
“We’ll have to recall all the machines from the shops, get rid of the bugs and replace the seals. But at least now we know what was causing the problem. All thanks to you, Jill. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
***
While I was in Candlefield, I decided to pop into Cuppy C. I wanted to check the arrangements for the upcoming trip to London. And while I was there, I would treat myself to a muffin.
What? Come on. It was the least I deserved after successfully cracking two cases.
There was no sign of the twins.
“Where are they?” I asked one of the assistants.
“In the back with someone.”
“Can I get a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin, please?”
“Mini?”
“Not likely.”
As I took a seat at the window table, I noticed a group of young wizards and witches who had gathered outside. What were they doing? What were they waiting for?
A few minutes later, Amber and Pearl appeared from the back of the shop. The man with them had a camera slung around his neck.
“Sorry, we have to close early today.” Amber began to usher the customers out of the shop.
“Sorry, you’ll have to leave.” Pearl snatched a half-eaten scone from someone’s table.
There was much moaning and groaning as the disgruntled customers were herded out of the door.
“Oh? Hi, Jill,” Amber said. “I didn’t realise you were here.”
“What’s going on? Why are you closing early?”
“We’re not,” Pearl said. “We’re having a brochure designed, so we need the place to look hip and happening for the photographs.”
“Cuppy C? Hip and happening?”
Just then, the crowd of young people began to file into the shop, and take seats at the vacant tables.
“Who are they?” I said.
“They’re from Candlefield Model Agency. Our photographer hired them for the shoot. They’re more the kind of image we’re going for.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re having a brochure designed to attract more customers?”
“Correct.”
“And you’ve just upset your existing customers by throwing them out so you can do the shoot for the brochure?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Amber corrected me. “We’re trying to attract a certain class of customer. Not just anyone.”
“I see. Well, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Of course we do.” Pearl picked up my cup.
“I haven’t finished with that.”
“We need your table for the shoot.”
“I could stay. I’m young and hip.”
They both dissolved into laughter.
Chapter 25
It was Saturday. Jack was going bowling, and I was going to the new mall with Kathy and Lizzie—big whoop!
“Have you been to the new mall before, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie had brought a beanie ghost with her.
“Yes, have you?”
“No, but Mummy has. She says it’s brilliant.”
“Your mummy is easily impressed.”
“You could at least pretend to be excited, Jill,” Kathy said in a hushed voice so Lizzie wouldn’t hear.
“I am. Look at this face. This is my excited face.”
“You’d better not spoil it for Lizzie.”
“I won’t. When did she get the new beanie?”
“Last week. She’s decided to start collecting all things ghost related.”
“It’s a step up from the Frankenstein beanies, I suppose.”
“We’re here!” Lizzie pointed.
“The shark has gone,” I said.
“What shark?” Kathy gave me a puzzled look.
“The giant shark that was above the entrance. You must have seen it?”
“I can’t say I noticed.”
There were two young men, dressed in red uniforms, just inside the entrance.
“Excuse me.” I tapped the young man’s shoulder. “What happened to the shark?”
“Which shark, madam?”
Lizzie had obviously inherited her mother’s shopping genes. Between the two of them, they dragged me into every clothing, shoe, and toy shop in the mall.
“I’m starving,” I moaned, after we’d been there for the best part of a month.
“We’ve only just got here.” Kathy was checking the store directory, just in case we’d missed any of the clothes shops.
“It’s a quarter to twelve. I’m starving. If we go now, we’ll beat the rush.”
“Are you hungry, Lizzie?” Kathy asked.
“Yes. Can I have pizza, Mummy?”
We headed for the food court where Lizzie and Kathy ordered pizza. I had a baked potato with cheese topping.
“Ladies, gentlemen and children.” The voice came over the large speakers, which were scattered around the food court. “Today, we are proud to announce a new feature, called Five Minute Stories, here at Central Mall. Throughout the day, a number of storytellers will read short stories for your entertainment. Please give a warm welcome to the first storyteller of the day, Witch Anastasia. She’ll be reading a story entitled ‘The Hidden Passageway’.”
The crowd in the food court applauded, as a woman dressed in what looked remarkably like genuine witch attire, took to the small stage.
“Thank you, everyone,” she said. “And a special thank you to all you children. I hope you enjoy the story.”
Lizzie and Kathy seemed enthralled.
Did you notice how I’d added that word to my vocabulary?
Anastasia continued, “This story is about a witch named Julia. Now, children, don’t worry because Julia was a good witch, not an evil witch. One day, Julia was summoned to a castle many miles from her home. This castle was surrounded by high walls, which had been built to keep out all the scary creatures that lived in that region. While the witch was in the castle,
one of the creatures broke through the wall, and snatched a young boy.”
This story seemed somehow very familiar.
Anastasia read on, “It seemed like the creature would escape with the boy, and take him back to its nest, to eat him.”
The children all gasped in horror.
“Don’t worry, children. Julia knew of a secret passageway which allowed her to head off the creature, and save the boy. Everyone hailed her a hero, but she was confused. Julia couldn’t understand how she had known about the secret passageway because she’d never been to the castle before. This worried her for a long, long time, but then a stranger told her that the answers she was seeking would begin with a book, which was at the bottom of a deep, dark well.”
Just then, there was a loud bang, and a puff of green smoke appeared where the storyteller had been sitting. When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of her.
“Err—I’m sorry about this.” The man, who was making the announcements over the speakers, sounded just as puzzled as everyone else. “We seem to have lost Witch Anastasia. Never mind. There’ll be another Five Minute Story in half an hour.”
“That was a rubbish story,” Lizzie complained.
“It was,” Kathy agreed.
I was too stunned to speak.
***
After we’d finished lunch, I made an excuse to leave. I was pretty sure that Kathy didn’t believe my complaints of an upset stomach, but she didn’t challenge me in front of Lizzie.
Grandma was on the roof terrace, sunbathing.
“Look what the cat’s dragged in,” she greeted me. “You know Agatha, I believe?”
I’d been so preoccupied with my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed my cleaner, Agatha Crustie, lying on the next sun lounger.
“Oh, hi, Agatha. I didn’t see you there. Grandma, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“I’m listening.”
“In private.”
“Agatha and I are chatting.”
“It’s alright, Mirabel.” Agatha stood up. “It’s time I was going.”
“What’s so top secret?” Grandma said, once Agatha had left.
“I need your advice.”
“You’re asking for my advice? That’s a first.”
“Something weird is going on.”
“Isn’t weird the new normal in your life?”
“I suppose it is, but this is even stranger than usual.”
“Go on. I’m listening.”
“Did you see the interview I did on Candle Investigates?”
“I never watch that rubbish.”
I brought Grandma up to speed on the incident at CASS.
“You knew about a hidden passageway? Is that what all the fuss is about? You’re a powerful witch. Maybe your magic sensed the different thickness of the wall?”
“But I wasn’t even thinking about a passageway. Anyway, that’s not all. There’s the business with Imelda Barrowtop. She thought I was Magna Mondale.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Imelda was probably hallucinating.”
“She left me a journal in her Will.”
“I didn’t know that. What’s in it?”
“I don’t know because I can’t claim it unless I produce Magna Mondale’s book.”
“That’s at the bottom of the Dark Well, isn’t it?”
“Yes. What do you think I should do?”
“You’d better get that book back.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Good talk!
***
I couldn’t wait to get home, to put my feet up. I planned to spend the evening watching bad movies, eating chocolate and drinking ginger beer.
When I walked through the door I could hear voices. Jack was speaking to someone—a woman.
“Susan?”
Susan Bestwick was sitting on the sofa.
“Hi, Jill. I popped over on the off-chance you’d be in. As I said on the phone, I like to take a photograph of all my sculptures.”
“Why didn’t you tell Susan that you’d broken it, Jill?” Jack said.
“It’s okay,” Susan said. “These things happen.”
“I’m really sorry, Susan. I didn’t have the heart to tell you.”
“Don’t give it another thought. I always keep the pattern for every sculpture I make, so it’s no problem for me to cast another one for you.”
“That’s brilliant news, isn’t it Jill?” Jack said.
“Brilliant, yeah.”
“She’s going to put it on the mantelpiece, next to my bowling trophy, aren’t you, Jill?”
“On the mantelpiece. Yeah.”
Oh bum!
More mystery, magic and mayhem from Jill Gooder and a cast of thousands (okay, tens) in the next book:
Witch Is Why The Music Stopped
(Witch P.I. Mysteries #19)
ALSO FROM ADELE ABBOTT:
The Susan Hall Mysteries
This new series from Adele Abbott is set in the same world as the Witch P.I. Mysteries (Washbridge/Candlefield)
Investigative reporter, Susan Hall, is out to make her mark in her new job at The Bugle. If she is to succeed, she is going to have bring in the big stories.
Whoops! Our New Flatmate Is A Human
(Susan Hall Mysteries #1)
Charlie (a werewolf), Dorothy (a vampire) and Neil (a wizard) have a new flatmate. The bad news is, she’s a human. The even worse news is, she’s an investigative reporter.
Web Site: http:www.AdeleAbbott.com
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