Witch Is Why Another Door Opened (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 15)

by Adele Abbott

  I handed him the money, and threw the newsletter onto the back seat.

  When I walked into the office, I was taken aback by the sight that greeted me.

  “Mrs V?” She was head down on the desk. It looked like she’d collapsed. “Are you all right?”

  Mrs V was prone to the odd funny turn.

  I touched her shoulder, and she jumped up. What a relief! It was only when she sat up that I realised she was wearing a sweatband around her head, and was dressed in a lime green leotard.

  “Jill, you scared me to death. I must have nodded off.”

  “Are you feeling all right? I thought you were poorly.”

  “No, dear. I’m not poorly—just exhausted.”

  “Why are you wearing the leotard?”

  “Didn’t you know? I-Sweat is now open. One of those young men came by and left three one-month free trial passes. One for me, one for Jules, and one for you. I put yours on your desk.”

  “You’ve just been around there, I take it?”

  “Yes. I need to get into shape, ready for Armi’s dinner and dance at the Cuckoo Clock Appreciation Society. Not long to go now.”

  “You haven’t overdone it, have you?”

  “Possibly. I don’t really understand how those treadmill things work.”

  “What happened?”

  “A kind young man showed me how to switch it on, but he didn’t really explain how I was meant to stop it.”

  “Couldn’t you have just called him over?”

  “It was difficult, because I was facing the window, and all the instructors were behind me. I daren’t look around in case I lost my balance and fell off.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I had to keep running until one of the instructors walked by. When one eventually did, he said I should just press the big red button.”

  “How long had you been on it?”

  “I’m not sure, dear. I think it must have been about twenty-five minutes.”

  “You’re supposed to gradually build up the time you spend on the equipment. You could have done yourself a mischief.”

  “I know, dear. I’m suffering for it now. My knees will never be the same again. And as for my big toe, would you like to see it?”

  “No. Thanks all the same.”

  “Don’t forget, Jill. Your free pass is on your desk.”

  “Okay. I take it you’ll be getting changed?”

  “Yes. As soon as I’ve caught my breath, I’ll limp down to the loo, and get changed into something more appropriate. Besides, I’ll need to squeeze the sweat out of this leotard.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea, Jill?”

  “No, I think I’ll give it a miss. Thanks.”

  When I walked through to my office, Winky was sitting cross-legged on the sofa. I couldn’t see his face because it was buried in a glossy magazine. I leaned a little closer so I could see what he was reading.

  “FQ? What’s that?”

  Winky lowered the magazine. “Haven’t you heard of it? It’s Feline Quality.”

  “It looks a bit up-market for you.”

  “You could be right, but Bella insisted that I read it. She’s taken out a subscription for me. She reckons I’m a bit too rough around the edges.”

  “What does she expect you to do about it?”

  “Apparently, I have to up my game if I want to carry on going out with her. Bella says she can’t be seen with someone who’s uncouth. Uncouth, me?” He wiped his nose with his paw. “I’m not uncouth, am I?”

  “Not at all. Surely, she should love you for who you are?”

  “Try telling her that.” He shrugged. “If I don’t do what she asks, then I think she’s going to dump me. She’s even arranged for me to take elocution lessons.”

  I laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, somebody’s coming around here later.”

  “Oh, boy. Can I watch?”

  “No. It’ll be embarrassing enough as it is. Who cares if it’s raining in Spain? It’s all nonsense. And besides, there’s nothing wrong with the way I speak. I speak as proper as the next person.”

  When my first appointment of the day arrived, I was relieved to see that Mrs V had changed out of the sweat-soaked leotard.

  “There’s a lady here to see you, Jill,” Mrs V said. “It’s a Mrs Travers. She’s just picking out some socks.”

  “Right, okay. Send her through as soon as she’s made her selection.”

  A few minutes later, Mrs Travers came through to my office. She was carrying a pair of red and green striped socks, and had a puzzled look on her face.

  “Your receptionist just gave me some socks?”

  “She does that. Socks or scarves, usually.”

  “These are very nice. I thought I could hang them up at Christmas.”

  “Good idea. Do have a seat, Mrs Travers.”

  “Call me Sarah, please. Mrs Travers makes me sound like my mother.”

  Sarah Travers was in her late thirties. An attractive woman, who didn’t have a particularly good dress sense. The purple blouse simply did not work with the green skirt. Not that I was judging.

  “You mentioned something about your husband when you rang?”

  “Jerry, yes. I never thought I’d employ a private investigator, but I feel like this has gone on long enough. I need some answers, even if I don’t like what you find.”

  “Do I take it that you think he might be cheating on you?”

  “Possibly. I don’t know. None of it makes any sense. Do you deal with a lot of infidelity cases?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. What is it that gives you cause for concern?”

  “About once a month, Jerry tells me that he’s going to play squash, but I know he’s lying.”

  “How so?”

  “I happened to bump into a woman I know, who works at the leisure club, and she told me that they closed down the squash court some months ago.”

  “Have you asked him about it?”

  “I know I should have, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject.”

  “And you say he does this just once a month?”

  “Yes. That’s the bit that I don’t understand. Surely, if he was having an affair, he’d want to see whoever it was, more than just once a month, wouldn’t he?”

  “I would have thought so. Usually in the cases I see, it can be several times a week.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Is it possible that it’s not an affair? Could he be doing something else?”

  “I suppose so, but I can’t think what.”

  “When did this start?”

  “It’s always been the same. He’s always gone to play squash once a month, but never more than that. When we first got together, I thought it was very strange that he didn’t want to play more often.”

  “Could he be going to a different club?”

  “The only other squash club in Washbridge is on the other side of town. And anyway, I asked him if he still went to the Lilac Leisure Club, and he said he did. I don’t know what to think. It’s got to the point now where I just need to know what’s going on. Even if it’s bad news, I’d rather know, which is why I came to see you. Do you think you can help?”

  “I’ll certainly try. Is there a particular date each month that he goes?”

  “No, but there’s always about a month in between.”

  “How much notice does he normally give you?”

  “He usually tells me on the day. The other thing I should have mentioned is that on those nights, he’s always very late back. When I asked why, he said that they go for drinks afterwards, and that it usually stretches out until the early hours of the morning.”

  Her mention of the late nights added credence to her suspicions that her husband might be cheating on her.

  “I think the only way we can do this, Sarah, is if you give me a call the next time he tells you he’s going to play squash. I’ll tail him, find out
where he goes and what he gets up to, and report back. How does that sound?”

  “That’s great, thanks.”

  “I’ll need a photograph of him.”

  “Of course. If you give me your email address, I can send you one over.”

  “Great. It’s agreed then. The next time your husband announces that he’s going out to play squash, give me a call straightaway, and I’ll follow him, and let you know exactly what’s going on.”

  “Thanks very much, Jill.”

  Chapter 3

  Mrs V popped her head around my door.

  “Sorry, Jill. I had a phone call while you were talking to Mrs Travers. It’s your grandmother. She’d like you to pop down there to see her.”

  My heart sank. “Did she say what it was about?”

  “No. I did ask, but she said it was none of my business, and that you had to get down there as quickly as possible. I asked if she could come up here, but she said that you’ve got younger legs than she has, so you can do the walking.”

  “Charming. I suppose I’d better go or I’ll be in trouble.”

  When I stepped out of the office, I noticed a bus go past with Ever a Wool Moment advertising on the side. It was back to normal. I’d seen a few other buses and taxis over the previous few days, and they’d all had the correct wording on them. Whatever Grandma had said or done to Ma Chivers, it had obviously had the desired effect.

  As I was walking down the high street, I spotted a man-sized fish on the pavement ahead of me. Next to it was a man-sized crab. And behind those two, was what appeared to be a man-sized seahorse. All three of them were handing out flyers. As I got closer, the seahorse handed one to me.

  “There you go.” The voice came from inside the seahorse costume.

  It was obviously a promotion for the new shop that had opened across the road from Ever. ‘She Sells’ belonged to my old friend, and ex-tax inspector, Betty Longbottom.

  At that precise moment, Grandma came charging out of Ever.

  “Hey, you, fishface! And you, crab! And you, horse or whatever you’re meant to be—get away from my shop. You’re blocking my window. Get back to your own side of the street, or I shall be forced to do something that you’ll regret.”

  The seahorse, crab, and fish weren’t in any mood to argue with Grandma, so as soon as there was a break in the traffic, they hobbled across the road.

  “You wanted to see me, Grandma?”

  “Took you long enough, didn’t it? I was three years younger when I left the message.”

  “I think you may be exaggerating a little.”

  “Let’s go through to the back.”

  Kathy was behind the counter, but I didn’t get a chance to speak to her because she was busy with customers. Grandma led the way into her office.

  “What’s wrong with that sister of yours?” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She seems to have her head in the clouds. Twice yesterday, someone complained that they were given the wrong change. Does she have problems at home?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “I suspect it’s that other job of hers. I know I gave her permission to do the Wool TV thing, but it was on the strict understanding that it wouldn’t affect her work here. I’m beginning to regret my decision. I’m just too giving, that’s my problem.”

  How I didn’t laugh, I will never know.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, Grandma. Maybe she didn’t sleep very well.”

  “I don’t sleep well either. I’m too busy worrying that my staff might give away all of my hard-earned money.”

  “Is that why you wanted to see me? To ask about Kathy?”

  “Of course not, I just thought I’d mention that while you’re here. I have much more important things to discuss with you. Sit down.”

  I took a seat, as instructed.

  “You do realise what will be happening soon, don’t you?”

  “Your birthday?”

  “It’s the Levels Competition!”

  “Of course.”

  “Have you started your practice regime?”

  “What practice regime?”

  “I take it that’s a ‘No’.”

  “To be honest, I didn’t plan on practising beforehand. I thought I’d just turn up on the day, and see how it went.”

  She grabbed a handful of her hair in each hand. “You thought you’d turn up on the day and see how it went?”

  I thought for a moment she was going to explode.

  “Err—yeah.”

  “I don’t think so. Look, young lady, it’s not so very long ago since you were given the opportunity of a lifetime: to move to level seven. But for reasons known only to you and that teeny little brain of yours, you turned the offer down. So, it’s essential that you at least progress to level six in the quickest possible time. And the best way to do that is to win the Levels Competition outright. Got it?”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.”

  “You’d better give it more than that. How do you think I’m going to look if my granddaughter, who is supposedly the most powerful witch in Candlefield, can’t win the Levels Competition?”

  “I get the message. I’ll definitely put some practice in.”

  “A lot of practice.”

  “Okay, I’ll put a lot of practice in.”

  “Maybe I should act as your trainer.”

  “No need for that. I’m disciplined enough to do my own training.”

  She gave me a doubtful look. “You better had.”

  As I walked back to my office, I thought about the Levels Competition. When I’d last competed in it, I’d been a lowly level two witch, and the expectations on me had been non-existent. I’d actually done far better than I could ever have hoped. I deliberately hadn’t entered last year’s competition because I was still trying to come to terms with everything that had happened to me, but I couldn’t avoid it again this year. The expectations on me this time would be way higher. People said that I was the most powerful witch in Candlefield, and that might or might not be true, but it put an awful lot of pressure on me. Anything other than my winning the Levels Competition would be seen as a failure. I wasn’t looking forward to it, and I certainly hadn’t been planning to put in any practice, but now Grandma had a bee in her bonnet, I might have to.

  As I hurried upstairs to the office, I bumped into Brent, one of the two I- Sweat guys.

  “Hi, Jill, how’s it going?”

  “All right.” I tried to catch my breath after running up the stairs.

  “You don’t look very fit. You need to introduce a fitness regime into your life. Did Mrs V give you the one-month free trial pass that I left for you?”

  “Yes, she did mention something about it.”

  “So, when are you going to have your first session?”

  “I don’t think it’s for me.”

  “Come on, Jill, you want to get fit, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Well then, make sure you book your first session soon. Mrs V was really going for it this morning. I’ve never seen anyone spend so much time on the treadmill.”

  While I was talking to Brent, I could hear music coming from behind me. When he finally went on his way, and I opened the door to my offices, I discovered the source of that music. Mrs V and Armi were dancing what to the untrained eye looked like the foxtrot. They’d pushed back the furniture to clear a space in the centre of the outer office, and seemed totally oblivious to my presence.

  I coughed. “Ahem! Excuse me?” I finally caught their attention, and they stopped dancing.

  “Jill? Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Mrs V’s knee had apparently recovered from the earlier treadmill trauma.

  Armi was all smiles.

  “Hi, Armi. How are things at Armitage, Armitage, Armitage and Poole?”

  “Pretty much the same.”

  “What about Gordon?”

  “He’s definitely the same—no better. Fortunat
ely, I don’t have much to do with him these days. I think he’s given up on me, which is definitely a good thing.”

  “You’re dancing?” I had a talent for stating the obvious.

  “We have to practise, Jill,” Mrs V said. “The Cuckoo Clock Appreciation Society dinner and dance is looming. We need to grab every opportunity. I hope you don’t mind us practising here.”

  “I suppose not, just as long as I have no appointments booked.”

  Mrs V took hold of Armi’s hand and they continued to foxtrot around the room. I managed to squeeze past them, and made my way into my office. As soon as I stepped inside, Winky came running up to me.

  “What’s that dreadful noise out there?”

  “Mrs V and Armi are practising ballroom dancing.”

  “That music is terrible.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Can’t you get them to stop?”

  “They need to practise. They’ve got a dinner and dance coming up. Anyway, they’ll be done soon because Armi will have to get back to work.”

  Winky sighed, put on his ear defenders, and retreated underneath the sofa.

  An hour or so later, I heard sounds of furniture being scraped across the floor as Mrs V and Armi moved everything back. Then I heard Armi shout goodbye. Not long after that, Mrs V popped her head around the office door again.

  “There’s someone to see you, Jill. It’s that accountant man.”

  “Luther? I wasn’t expecting him today.”

  “No, not that accountant man. The other one; the one you had before you changed to Mr Stone.”

  “Robert Roberts? I suppose you’d better show him in.”

  The last time I’d seen Robert Roberts, he’d been dressed all hipster style, and had informed me that he was giving up his accountancy practice to become a food critic. But the man in front of me today was dressed in a plain suit, white shirt, grey tie, and was once again the archetypal accountant.

  “Hello, Miss Gooder.”

  “Hello, Mr Roberts. What brings you here?”

  “You may recall that the last time I paid you a visit, I told you that I’d decided to quit the world of accountancy?”

  “Yes. You said you were going to become a food critic.”

  “I’m not really sure what came over me back then. I can only put it down to a knock on the head. I’d been clearing out the garage when I banged my head on the door. Anyway, I’m pleased to say that I have now regained my senses, and have reinstated the accountancy business. Unfortunately, while in my delusional state, I managed to fire all of my clients.”