by Adele Abbott
“But—” Armitage was scrambling around desperately trying to find a live cat.
There were boxes full of mini-Winkys everywhere, and a few still scattered across the floor. Luckily for me, there was no sign of Winky’s workers, and no sign of him either.
“I can’t throw her out of the office for keeping soft toys in here, Gordon.”
“But, there were real cats. I heard them meowing.”
I picked up one of the toys and squeezed its tummy. Sure enough, it let out a meow.
“Maybe that’s what you heard, Gordon?”
He looked at me; his eyes were blazing with fury.
“Well, Jill,” Zac said. “Once again, I’m very sorry to have troubled you. Although I must say, I’m rather confused about why you would have so many soft toys in here.”
“It’s a charity thing. I’m storing them for the local cat rescue. They’ll be out of here by tomorrow.”
“Ah—I see. Well, we won’t detain you any longer. Gordon, I think you and I should have a little chat outside.”
“But I heard them!”
“Come on, Gordon. Let’s go.”
I let out a sigh of relief, and then almost jumped out of my skin as seven or eight of the mini-Winkys shot out of one of the boxes, followed by Winky himself. He was gasping for air.
“I’m glad they didn’t stay any longer,” he said. “Another few seconds and I would have been a goner.”
***
By the time I left the office, most of the boxes of mini-Winkys had been removed. Mrs V looked a little puzzled as she saw them being carried out, but she was so used to the madness that she didn’t bother to comment.
When I got back to my block of flats, all I wanted to do was put my feet up and relax. I’d had enough of mini-Winkys and angry neighbours. But it wasn’t to be because there, in the corridor, was Mr Ivers. He was arm in arm with a pretty, young witch, who I assumed must be his new girlfriend.
“Hi, Jill. This is Wendy.”
“Hello, Jill,” she said. “Monty’s told me so much about you.”
Monty? Montgomery Ivers? Who knew?
“I’m so excited to meet you,” she bubbled. “I hope we can be friends.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we will.” Not a chance.
“Are you interested in the cinema too, Jill?”
“Not so much.”
“But didn’t you go to the premiere with Monty?”
“I did, yes.” Although I’d tried to erase it from my memory.
“I love movies, and Monty knows so much about them. Almost as much as I do.”
Mr Ivers gave me a knowing wink.
“We love discussing movies, and our favourite movie stars. We went to see The Last Stand last week, didn’t we, Monty?”
“We did. Carlos Michaels was excellent, wasn’t he?”
“First class!”
“Oh drat!” Mr Ivers patted his pocket. “I’ve left my journal in the car.”
“I’ll go and get it.” Wendy volunteered.
With that, she shot off down the corridor at the speed of light, and then reappeared just as quickly. I gave her a look, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Here you are, Monty.” She passed him the journal.
“You were very quick.” He gave her a peck on the cheek.
She was quick. Much too quick. The only way she could have been that quick was to have used the ‘faster’ spell. What was she thinking? Hadn’t the girls at Love Spell explained that she had to hide her magic powers from her human dates? She was blatantly using magic in public.
“Jill, you really must come over to my flat some time,” Mr Ivers said. “And let Wendy make us all a meal. She’s an excellent cook.”
“Oh, Monty, you’re so kind.” Wendy giggled.
“Not at all. It’s true. The meals she makes are wonderful. And she’s so incredibly fast! I’ve never known anyone who could make a meal so quickly. She walks into the kitchen, and within seconds, she’s produced a masterpiece.”
“Monty! You’re embarrassing me now.”
She should have been embarrassed. There was only one way she could prepare meals at that speed, and that was by using magic. She and I were going to have to have a little chat.
Chapter 10
Jack Maxwell had agreed to speak with me at the police station. He knew I’d been close to the colonel, so he’d graciously granted me ten minutes of his time.
“In all honesty, there isn’t a lot I can tell you at the moment, Jill. You probably know as much as I do.”
I usually did.
“The colonel died from the wound inflicted by the bolt that pierced his heart. But, as yet, there’s no trace of the murder weapon. As far as we can establish, he was in the room by himself, and the door appears to have been locked from the inside. Your brother-in-law was the first on the scene. His fingerprints are all over the bolt.”
“But that doesn’t mean anything, does it? It was just a natural reaction. When he saw the colonel lying on the floor, he tried to help him.”
“Probably.”
“What do you mean ‘probably’? What else could it have been? Anyone would have done the same.”
“He’s also the only other person with a key to that room.”
“What about the key which the colonel lost? Someone might have stolen it.”
“As I said, it’s early days. We don’t have much to go on at the moment.”
“You must have some leads? There must be something you can tell me?”
“Not really. I’m only seeing you out of courtesy—because we’re friends.”
Hmm? So that’s what we were? Friends? Well, at least I knew where I stood.
“So there’s nothing else you can tell me?”
“There’s nothing else to tell. Look, Jill, I have to get on.”
“Okay. Thanks anyway.”
He hesitated. “Are you still on for the policemen’s ball? It isn’t long now.”
“Err—yeah—I’m looking forward to it.”
Oh bum! I’d forgotten all about that.
***
I was quite disappointed to find that Simon Sergeant didn’t refer to himself as Sergeant Sergeant. He simply called himself Simon, which I considered a missed opportunity. When I’d phoned, he’d agreed to spare me a few minutes, but he’d sounded less than enthusiastic.
I disliked him on first sight. His hair was very peculiar. On the right side of his head it appeared to be very thick, but on the left side it was very thin. He’d done the classic comb-over, which never worked. There’s a golden rule if you have a comb-over: Never be in the same room as an electric fan. As we sat in his lounge, the breeze from the ceiling fan lifted the comb-over, revealing the bald patch beneath. It was like watching a cat-flap opening and closing. It was mesmerising.
“This will have to be quick,” he said.
I had to force myself to stop staring at his hair.
“You’ve probably heard about Colonel Briggs?”
“I have, and I can’t say I’m sorry.”
“I understand that you served with him in the army?”
“He got me thrown out on some trumped-up charges.”
“Trumped-up?”
“Of course they were. He accused me of some pretty despicable things.”
“As I understand it, you were caught stealing weapons and selling them.”
“The whole thing was ridiculous. Not an ounce of truth in it. I left the army without a mark against my name.”
“Yes, but that’s only because the powers that be covered it up.”
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“When was the last time you saw the colonel?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please, it’s very important.”
“If you must know, I bumped into him in town a couple of weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
“I told him what I thought of him.”
“What else?”
&
nbsp; “Nothing.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t waste my time on him.”
“What do you do for a living now, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“What’s that got to do with you?”
“Is there a reason you won’t tell me?”
“Look, I’d like you to leave, now.”
“Just a couple more questions, that’s all.”
“Out! Get out!”
It was pointless; Sergeant Sergeant had obviously told me everything he intended to, which wasn’t very much. I could have stood my ground, but there wouldn’t have been much point. He slammed the door shut behind me, and as I walked down the drive, I noticed that there was a parking pass stuck in the front windscreen of his car. The company name on it read: ‘Western Security.’
Why did that name ring a bell?
***
When I arrived at Cuppy C, the twins were even more excited than usual.
“What’s going on with you two?”
“Look at this,” Amber pointed to the noticeboard where there was a flyer advertising the Candlefield Tea Room of the Year competition.
“I take it you’ll be entering?”
“Of course. We won’t just be entering—we’re going to win it!”
“That cup is as good as ours,” Pearl said. “There isn’t a tea room in Candlefield which is as good as Cuppy C. We can’t fail to win.”
“Don’t get overconfident,” I cautioned. “You have a lot of competition.”
“They don’t stand a chance,” Pearl said.
“What about your friends across the road?”
“Best Cakes? Are you kidding me?” Amber laughed. “They’ve got no chance.”
“Have you seen their cupcakes?” Pearl said.
“And their scones aren’t much better.” Amber scoffed. “Anyway, that’s why we asked you to come over, Jill. We’re going to have a staff meeting, and we wanted you to be here for it. We’re just about to close the shop for half an hour.”
“You can’t just shut the shop!”
“This is important,” Amber said. “Our reputation is at stake.”
“I’m not sure closing the shop in the middle of the afternoon will help with that.”
“People will understand when they see that we’ve won the Best Tea Room competition.”
Pearl ushered the remaining customers out of the tea room, and then locked the doors.
I joined the other staff at the tables at the back of the shop. Amber and Pearl remained standing. They were obviously going to lead this important meeting.
“Okay, everyone,” Amber said. “You’ve probably all seen this flyer already.” She pointed to the noticeboard. “This is the first year this competition has been held, and we’re determined that Cuppy C will take the cup. The purpose of today’s meeting is to discuss strategy.”
“That’s right,” Pearl said. “And the first item on the agenda, and perhaps the most important, is Jill.”
“Me? Why am I the most important item on the agenda?”
“Because, if we’re to stand any chance at all of winning this competition, then it’s essential that you are not behind the counter when the judges are here.”
“What do you mean?” I protested. “I’m better than I used to be.”
“True,” Pearl nodded. “But you used to be a disaster. Now you’re just okay.”
“So what do you want me to do then? Stay at home?”
“Of course not.” Amber said. “We’ll need everyone here. As far as we know, the judges are coming next weekend, but we don’t know exactly when. So between now and then, we have to plan everything down to the last detail. Everyone must know what their job will be.”
“And what will my job be exactly?” I said. “Hiding in the back, out of the way?”
“You’ll have a very important job,” Pearl said. “And one that you’re well suited to.”
I wasn’t sure I was going to like this.
“You’ll be working under cover.” Amber grinned.
“Yeah, you are a P.I. after all,” Pearl said.
“What do you mean under cover?”
“It’s important that we know when the judges arrive.” Amber was obviously taking this very seriously. “They’ll be incognito, and award marks based on the quality of the food, drink, service, and ambience.”
“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“It’s your job to keep a look out for the judges, and when you spot them, let Amber or me know so that we can make sure we give them excellent service.”
“Well, here’s a crazy idea,” I said. “Why not give everybody excellent service?”
“We do that anyway,” Amber said. “But we’ll give the judges excellenter service.”
“Is that a word?”
“Of course. It means better than excellent.”
“I have another question.”
“Yes, go on.”
“How will I know when the judges come in?”
“You’ll be able to spot them,” Amber said.
“Yeah.” Pearl nodded. “It will be easy for you—being a P.I. and all. There’ll be two of them, a man and a woman, and they’ll stand out from the other customers.”
“Stand out how?”
“That’s what you have to work out. I thought you were good at working under cover, and detecting things.”
“Not at detecting judges in a tea room.”
“You’ll be fine. Just go with your instincts.”
“Couldn’t I just work behind the counter and make a few coffees?”
“Definitely not. We can’t risk that.”
“Okay, but if you want me to sit out front, I guess that means I’ll have to blend in with the other customers?”
“Yes, of course. That’s part of the job.”
“In that case, I’ll need a constant supply of coffee and muffins. Otherwise, it will look odd, and the judges will guess that I’m not just a regular customer.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Amber said.
I sighed. “It’s a tough job, but I suppose someone has to do it.”
***
“You’re here again,” Kathy said, as she opened the door.
“Pardon me for wanting to see my sister.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just move in? Save yourself the rent on your flat.”
“I can leave if you like.”
“You might as well come in now you’re here.”
“Where is everybody?”
“Kids are at school, Pete’s at the colonel’s. I’m off to work soon, so this will have to be quick. What do you want?”
“Who says I want anything? I just came to say hello.”
“I know you. What do you want?”
“Well—I did wonder if you might give me some advice?”
“Wow, you really must be desperate if you’re coming to me for advice. What’s happened now? Which of your many men have you upset?”
“I don’t have many men, and I haven’t upset any of them.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Well, as it happens, I have a dance related issue.”
“Dance related? Well, that’s different. Dance related, how?”
“I was talking to Jack Maxwell a while back, and he was going on about how he was a brilliant ballroom dancer, and how he’d won lots of medals. You know how men are. Bragging.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well, I kind of suggested that I was good at ballroom dancing.”
“You? Dance? What exactly did you say?”
“I mentioned medals.”
“You told him you’d won medals for ballroom dancing?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“You’re an idiot. Still, with a bit of luck, the subject may never come up again.”
“It already has. I’d no sooner told him that I was some kind of ballroom dancing supremo than the
woman who was to have been his partner left him in the lurch. The policemen’s ball is in a few days’ time, and now he wants me to be his partner.”
“Oh, dear!” Kathy collapsed into fits of laughter.
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh yeah, it really is.”
“What am I going to do? I’ve told him I can dance, and now he’s expecting me to be his partner.”
“Do you want my honest advice?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell him you lied.”
“I can’t do that.”
“What else can you do? He’s going to know as soon as you get on the dance floor.”
“There must be something else I can do. How difficult can it be to learn to dance?”
“For you? Nigh on impossible, I’d imagine. Don’t you remember when we were kids. Lottie Baines used to come over, and the three of us used to practise dance routines?”
“Spotty Lottie?”
“See? Do you understand now, why you don’t have any friends?”
“I do have friends.”
“How many?”
“I have a few.”
“How many?”
“More than one.”
“Anyway, when Lottie came over, the three of us used to try to copy the dancers on the telly. Do you remember?”
“Vaguely.”
“You’ve probably blocked it from your memory. You were useless. Lottie and I got the moves off straight away. We were really good. We could’ve entered a talent competition, but you were all hands and feet. You were absolutely—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. I wasn’t very good at that kind of dancing, but this is different. This is ballroom dancing.”
“Ballroom dancing is really difficult. It involves precise moves. If you’re dancing in a club, you can just fling your arms and legs around, and no one knows if you go wrong because there aren’t any rules. Ballroom dancing has specific steps which you have to follow. You’ve got no chance.”
“There must be something I can do. Isn’t there some kind of crash course, like when you learn to drive? That’s it! Why didn’t I think of that before?”
Chapter 11
I was about to leave Kathy’s when I noticed an old copy of The Bugle on the coffee table. The headline caught my attention because it was one I’d seen a few days earlier. Typical of The Bugle it read: Cowboys. Now I remembered where I’d heard of Western Security. The article accused them of employing staff with criminal records. The managing director, a Mr William King, was quoted as saying that he deeply regretted the incident and would like to reassure all customers, and the public in general, that they would be double-checking the background of all their existing employees. He was determined to ensure that there would be no repeat of this unfortunate incident.