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

by Adele Abbott

  “You should ask Daze about CASS,” Amber said.

  “Yeah.” Pearl was now eyeing my last piece of toast. “Daze went to CASS.”

  “Really? In that case, I’ll get the lowdown from her before I make my mind up.”

  Chapter 7

  I magicked myself back to Washbridge. Jules was behind the desk, and she didn’t look very happy.

  “Morning, Jules.”

  “Morning, Jill.” She managed a smile. Barely.

  “Something tells me that you and Jethro are having problems.”

  “I’m really annoyed with him. He says he wants to start dancing again in one of those horrible dance troupes.”

  “I take it you don’t want him to?”

  “Of course I don’t. Have you seen them?”

  I nodded. I’d once been dragged to see an all-male dance troupe by Mad.

  “I don’t want him showing off his body to all the other women in Washbridge.”

  “And you’ve told him this, I assume?”

  “I told him that if he insists on going ahead with it, I may have to finish with him.”

  “And what did he say to that?”

  “Nothing really, so I don’t know whether he’s going to do it or not.”

  I went through to my office, where I found Winky walking slowly across the room on his back legs. He was balancing a book on his head. I must have made him jump because the book fell to the floor.

  “That was your fault.” He turned on me. “Why didn’t you knock?”

  “This is my office! Why should I have to knock?”

  “In case someone happens to be practising their deportment skills.”

  I collapsed onto the sofa, laughing so hard that my sides hurt.

  He sighed. “And what, may I ask is so funny about that?”

  “You mean apart from the fact that there’s a cat in my office trying to balance a book on his head? Nothing much, I guess.”

  He picked up the book, and threw it across the room. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. This is ridiculous. It’s not like I walk on my back legs very often, so why do I need to go through this torture?”

  “Because you love Bella, and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make her happy.”

  “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

  A few minutes later, Winky had given up on the deportment exercises, and was tucking into a bowl of tuna mix.

  What? I can’t afford salmon every day.

  My phone rang. It was Peter, and I knew as soon as he spoke that something was wrong.

  “Jill, it’s Kathy.”

  “What about her? Is she okay?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

  “Take a breath. What’s going on?”

  “She’s been taken in for questioning about the Lucinda Gray murder.”

  “She? What? Why?” Now I was the one who was struggling to speak coherently. “What do you mean? As a witness?”

  “They’re treating her as though she’s a suspect. I asked if I could go with her, but they wouldn’t let me. Luckily, the kids were already at school so they didn’t see anything. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Leave it with me. Let me call Jack. He should be able to find out what’s going on.”

  “Okay, thanks. You’ll let me know, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  I immediately called Jack. He didn’t answer on the first three attempts, but on the fourth one, he picked up.

  “What’s wrong? I couldn’t answer before because I was in class. Is there a problem?”

  “It’s Kathy.”

  “What’s happened to her?”

  “She’s been taken in for questioning about the murder of Lucinda Gray, the newsreader. Peter just rang me. He says they’re treating her as though she’s a suspect. I need you to find out what’s going on.”

  “How am I meant to do that? I’m in the Lake District.”

  “Come on, Jack. This is my sister we’re talking about. Make a call.”

  “Okay. Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  I heard the outer office door crash open, and moments later, Grandma came marching in, red faced—the wart on the end of her nose was glowing. This definitely wasn’t a social call.

  Winky jumped off the sofa, and hid underneath it, as he always did when Grandma came around.

  “Morning, Grandma.”

  “Where’s that sister of yours? She promised me that her TV work wouldn’t interfere with her job at Ever A Wool Moment. So, where is she this morning? Not in my shop, that’s for sure.”

  “Hold on, Grandma, Kathy’s been taken in for questioning. She’s a suspect in a murder case.”

  “What kind of excuse is that?”

  I could hardly believe my ears. “It’s not an excuse. It’s a fact. She’s currently at Washbridge police station.”

  “Well, that’s all very inconvenient. I’ve got a shop full of customers and no one to serve them. It’s not as though I don’t already have enough to contend with, what with all those stupid fish, crabs and seahorses wandering around the street, blocking the view of my shop. Don’t you think it’s stressful enough for me without having to serve customers?”

  I was beyond angry. Grandma could push me further than I thought possible.

  “My sister is a suspect in a murder case! I think that is slightly more important than your retail problems.”

  “You would. That’s why your business is in the state it’s in. What’s happened with Kathy, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve phoned Jack. He’s going to try to find out. As soon as I know anything, I’ll let you know, but I doubt you’ll see her today.”

  “Great! It looks like I’ll have to do everything myself, as per usual. But first, I’m going to sort out those stupid fish people across the road.”

  “Hold on, Grandma. Are you talking about using magic on them?”

  “Of course I am. I’ll shrink them to the size of a termite; they won’t block my shop window then.”

  “No, don’t do that! I know the woman who owns the shop.”

  “You do? How?”

  “She used to live in the same apartment block as me. She worked as a tax inspector back then.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “Let me have a word with her before you do anything rash. I’ll see if I can talk her into moving the fish, crab and seahorse away from your premises.”

  “Okay. But if they’re not gone within a couple of hours, I will take matters into my own hands.”

  And with that, she stormed out of the office.

  Such a caring individual, my grandmother.

  Ten minutes later, Jack rang back.

  “I’ve tried to talk to Leo Riley, but he won’t even take my call. I had to call in a few favours from some of my old colleagues. The reason they took her in for questioning is because they found the syringe that was used to inject poison into Lucinda Gray’s water bottle, in Kathy’s drawer at the TV station.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Kathy could never do anything like that. And even if she had, the last thing she’d do would be to leave the syringe in her drawer where anyone could find it.”

  “I agree.”

  “It’s obviously been planted there. What can we do about it, Jack?”

  “According to the people I spoke to, they’re expecting Kathy to be released later today, or tomorrow at the latest.”

  “But what about the real murderer? I wouldn’t trust Leo Riley to find a shoelace in a shoe cupboard.”

  “You mustn’t get involved, Jill. Kathy will be released soon. Do you promise?”

  “Okay. I’ll wait until she’s home.”

  It was time to pay a visit to She Sells to have a chat with Betty Longbottom. She had to stop those promotional characters from standing outside Ever a Wool Moment. If she didn’t, Grandma would no doubt let loose her magic on them, and maybe on Betty too.

  “Jules, I’
m just going to nip down to—”

  Before I could finish the sentence, the door opened, and in walked two women wrapped in towels. They looked around, obviously a little confused. The one with the gammy toe spoke.

  “Is this the sauna?”

  “Does it look like a sauna?” I snapped.

  “Not really.”

  “These are my offices. I’m Jill Gooder, private investigator.”

  “The brochure said there was a sauna.”

  “Would that have been the I-Sweat brochure, by any chance?”

  “Yeah. Me and Pauline are on the free month’s trial, but if there isn’t a sauna, I don’t think we’ll be signing up.”

  “I-Sweat may well have a sauna, but like I said before, this is my office.”

  “Do you know where the sauna is, then?”

  “I imagine it’s back along the corridor—where you just came from.”

  “What about sunbeds? Have you got any of them?”

  “No. No sunbeds, and no sauna.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “That’s the third time this week that’s happened,” Jules said, after gammy toe and her friend had left.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No. Two of them wanted the sauna, and the other one was looking for the masseuse.”

  “I’ll have to have a word with the I-Sweat guys, and get them to improve their signage. Anyway, as I was saying, I’m going to nip down the road to that new shop, She Sells.”

  “It’s a weird kind of a shop, isn’t it? They only seem to sell seashells and stuff. What’s the point of that? Who would want to buy those?”

  “You’d be surprised. Apparently, there’s a thriving trade in seashells and the like.”

  As I made my way down the high street, I could see why Grandma was annoyed. The giant marine characters were patrolling both sides of the street; three of them were congregated in front of Ever, completely blocking the window.

  There were a surprising number of customers inside She Sells. At first, I didn’t think Betty was in there, but then I spotted her at the back.

  “Betty, could I have a word?”

  “Hello again, Jill. Are you looking for some seashells for your new house?”

  “Not today. I just wanted a quick word. I don’t know if you’re aware, but my grandmother owns the shop across the road.” I pointed.

  “Ever A Wool Moment?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ve never really liked that name,” she said.

  “Me neither. I suggested Stitch Slapped, but Grandma didn’t go for it. Anyway, she’s a little unhappy about your promotional people congregating outside there. They’re blocking the view of the window, and she feels it might affect trade.”

  “I don’t want to upset your grandmother, but business is business, and this promotion is working particularly well. We need to cover both sides of the street to maximize the effect.”

  “Couldn’t they just move up the street a little rather than standing outside Ever?”

  “The thing is, if they catch potential customers right there, it’s easier for them to point to She Sells. We’re smack bang across the road from Ever A whatsit.”

  “I think you’d be well-advised to get them to move along. You really don’t want to upset my grandmother or you may live to regret it.”

  Betty laughed. “I’m sorry, Jill, but as you know, I worked as a tax inspector for several years, so I’m used to handling difficult people. I’m sure I can cope with your grandmother.”

  The poor deluded fool.

  “Okay, Betty.” I sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  When I got back, there was a young man waiting in the outer office.

  “He doesn’t have an appointment,” Jules said. “I told him I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to see him or not, but he said you knew him, and that he’d like to wait.”

  Knew him? I looked a little closer, and then it clicked. It was Norman, a.k.a. Mastermind, who I’d first encountered working in a prop shop. His uncle’s prop shop, to be precise. The next time I’d come across him was when he’d been going out with Betty Longbottom. But what was he doing here?

  “Norman? Nice to see you again. Come through to my office.”

  He did a double-take at Winky.

  “That cat’s only got one eye.”

  Nothing got past Mastermind.

  “What brings you here, Norman?”

  “I’ve got a problem.” Never had a truer word been spoken.

  “What’s that?”

  “My bottle tops have gone missing.”

  I’d almost forgotten about Norman’s collection of bottle tops. When he and Betty had been an item, she’d told me that he collected them.

  “Do you mean you’ve misplaced them?”

  “No. Somebody’s nicked ‘em.”

  “Who would want to steal your bottle tops?”

  “Bottle tops are big business. I know most people think it’s just a stupid hobby, but the rare ones are very sought after. I should know; I’ve spent my life studying them.”

  “Okay. I’ll take your word for that.”

  “There’s a lot of rivalry in the bottle top world.”

  “Really?”

  “Toppers—that’s what they call people who collect bottle tops—will do anything to get their hands on the rare ones.”

  “Have you reported the theft?”

  “Yeah, I’ve told the police, but they don’t seem very interested. That’s why I thought of you. I remembered you were a private investigator, so I thought you might be able to find ‘em for me.”

  “My fees may be more than you can afford, just to find a few bottle tops.”

  “Money’s not a problem. I sold one of my best tops only the other day.”

  “How much did you get for it?”

  “Ten grand.”

  “Ten thousand pounds for one bottle top?”

  “Yeah, but it was the Blue Diamond. There were only fifteen ever made. I didn’t want to sell it, but I needed the cash, so it had to go.”

  “Right, and do you have any other bottle tops that are worth that kind of money?”

  “Lots of ‘em.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, I don’t actually have ‘em now, because somebody’s nicked ‘em. Can you find ‘em, or what?”

  “I can certainly try. Can you give me the names of all your rivals, and anyone else that you think may have been involved?”

  “I’ve wrote it all down, here.” He took a scruffy piece of paper from his pocket. “There you go. It’ll definitely be one of them on that list.”

  Chapter 8

  I was just about to call it a day and go home, when I got another call from Peter. He sounded a lot calmer now.

  “Jill, I just thought I should let you know that Kathy’s home.”

  “Is she okay? Can I speak to her?”

  “She’s still upset. It might be best to let her rest.”

  “I’m going to come around.”

  I drove straight over there.

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s having a lie-down in the bedroom. I think she’s asleep.” Peter looked like he could do with some sleep himself.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “The neighbours have taken them for a couple of hours.”

  “Do the neighbours know what’s happened?”

  “Yeah, but they won’t say anything. They’re good people.”

  As we made our way into the lounge, Kathy appeared.

  “I thought you were having a nap,” Peter said.

  “I can’t sleep.” Her hair was dishevelled, and she’d obviously been crying.

  “I’ll make us a drink,” Peter offered.

  Kathy and I sat on the sofa together, and I took her hand in mine.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. I can’t believe they think I could have murdered her.”

  “No on
e with half a brain would. It’s that stupid Leo Riley. The man’s an idiot.”

  “I’ve never seen that syringe before. I’ve no idea how it got into the drawer in my desk. Somebody is obviously trying to frame me.” She blew her nose. “Sorry, I’m just feeling sorry for myself. It’s Lucinda I should be feeling sorry for. She didn’t deserve to die like that. Would you investigate this, Jill?”

  “Of course I will, but you’re going to have to give me as much information as you can.”

  “About Lucinda? To be honest, I didn’t know her that well. She was the star; I’m just the newbie. We’d made small talk a few times, but that was about it. The person that you really need to speak to is her PA, Donna Proudlove. She and Lucinda were really close. I got the impression they were friends as well as work colleagues. She’ll be able to tell you as much about Lucinda as anyone.”

  “Okay, I’ll see if I can get a hold of Donna, tomorrow.”

  I stayed with Kathy for the best part of two hours. She was quiet for a lot of that time, and I allowed her to be. Peter kept reassuring her that everything was going to be okay. I knew she was in good hands with Peter.

  On my way home, I picked up a copy of The Bugle which had the headline: ‘Washbridge poisoner strikes again!’

  The article linked Lucinda’s murder with the one from a few days earlier. It said that the MO in both cases was the same: Poison had been injected into a bottle of water. I had no way of knowing how accurate the article was—this was The Bugle, after all. It might have been no more than speculation on their part, but it was also possible they had someone on the inside, at Washbridge police station, who was feeding them information in return for a nice backhander.

  When I arrived home, there was a car on Mrs Rollo’s drive. Mrs Rollo, her little monster of a grandson, Justin, and another woman came out of her house. I tried to get inside before they saw me, but I was too slow.

  Mrs Rollo called, “Come on over and meet my daughter.”

  Drat it! So near, and yet so far.

  I put on a smile, and walked around there.

  “This is my daughter, Sheila. Sheila Thyme.”

  Sheila’s hair looked as though it had been forged in steel, and lowered onto her head. There wasn’t a hair out of place.