by Adele Abbott
Chapter 18
The waiting room was busy. The man seated next to me had a streaming cold, but apparently no tissues. This was precisely why I hated going to see the doctor—I always ended up feeling worse. In one corner, two young children were playing with a selection of toy cars. Opposite me, a middle-aged man was telling the woman next to him all about his hernia—she looked suitably impressed. The woman at reception was run off her feet trying to cope with a steady stream of phone calls and patients, so she didn’t notice I hadn’t checked in. There were three doctors at the practice, and according to the illuminated board, two of them were on duty.
By ten to eleven, the waiting room was almost empty—just me, and a young man with a cast on his leg. After he’d seen the doctor, I started towards the surgery door.
“Excuse me,” the woman called after me. I ignored her, and kept on walking until I found the door with Dr Mills’ name on it.
“Hello?” He looked confused. “I thought I was done for the day.” He checked his computer screen.
“I’m not one of your patients.” I took a seat beside his desk.
“I’m sorry, you can’t—”
“I’m here about Mrs Vicars.”
“Edna?” Now I had his attention. “Are you a relative?”
“No. Let’s just say I’m an interested party.”
He shuffled nervously on his chair. “I’m not sure how I can help.”
“I believe you were there when the hit and run happened?”
“Yes. I pronounced her dead.”
“Why were you there?”
“I am—I was her doctor.”
“According to her daughter she made regular visits to the surgery, but didn’t have house-calls—Mrs Vicars said they were only for old people.”
“She hadn’t been feeling well.”
“I believe all phone calls to the surgery are logged, so if I check back, will I find a call from Edna Vicars on that day?”
“I—err—I.”
“Dr Mills, we both know the real reason why you went to see Edna that morning.”
He could barely keep his hands still. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You went there to try to persuade Edna Vicars to put your dog through to Best in Show. Did you offer her a bribe?”
He was silent for the longest moment, before beginning to crumble in front of my eyes. “It was an accident.” He began to sob.
There was a knock on the door, and the receptionist appeared. “Dr Mills? Is everything okay?”
He managed to compose himself long enough to wave her away. “Everything’s fine.”
“What happened that morning?” I asked.
“Edna had it in for Pugs. I don’t know why—they’re such a wonderful breed. This was Benjy’s last chance. He should have gone through to Best in Show last year, and the year before. He would have gone through if it had been any other judge, but not Edna. I tried to talk her round, and then—” he hesitated. “It was stupid. I don’t know why I did it. I offered her money. It was stupid. So stupid.”
“What did she do?”
“She said she’d report me. I told her no one would believe her—I told her I’d say she was delusional—that they’d lock her up. She was hysterical. I had to try to calm her down.”
“Is that why she ran out of the house?”
“I wasn’t going to hurt her. Just give her something to calm her down. I went after her, but then she stepped into the road—there was nothing I could do. I feel terrible. If I could only turn back the clock.”
“So terrible that you went ahead with the competition anyway?”
“People would have asked questions if I hadn’t.”
“People are going to ask questions now. The police.”
Thirty minutes later, they arrived to escort the doctor to the police station. He’d aged ten years during the course of the morning. I updated Maxwell on what I knew, and told him I thought the good doctor was ready to make a full statement.
What a stupid, needless tragedy. Edna Vicars lost her life because of a silly dog competition.
Daze had asked me to arrange to meet Damon Black, the rogue vampire, at Hotel Kromer. According to her, as soon as he sensed my blood type, the charm offensive would begin. I was worried that I might give the game away with a show of nerves. We’d arranged to meet in the lobby, and as soon as I spotted him I’d cast the ‘doppelganger’ spell, so he’d see me as the woman in my profile picture.
“Scarlet?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. Hi.” Great start—I’d forgotten my own fake name.
“I’m Damon.” The man was way too handsome for his own good. “Been waiting long?”
“No, not long.”
“You’re even more beautiful than your photograph.” He flashed a smile.
Boy, this guy was good. If it wasn’t for the fact he wanted to drain me of blood and leave me for dead, I could totally have gone for him.
“Thank you.”
His eyes suddenly lit up, and something told me he’d registered my blood type.
“Shall we go through?” He took my arm; his hand was cold to the touch. “I’m ravenous.”
But for what eh, buddy? Had he just glanced at my neck or was I being paranoid?
Everything Daze had told me about the man was true. His charm offensive was polished and relentless.
“Is your food all right?” he said, when he noticed me pushing it around the plate.
“It’s lovely. I’m just not very hungry. Sorry.”
“Another drink, maybe?”
“Just a little.”
He’d insisted on ordering champagne—the most expensive on offer. Shame I had to feed it to the plant, but I wanted to keep my wits about me.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He stared deep into my eyes.
“You have, but once more won’t hurt.” I giggled—got to make it look like the drink was starting to have an effect.
By the end of the meal, we were halfway down the second bottle of bubbly. The plant was well and truly inebriated, and I was doing a good impression of being tipsy.
“It’s been a fantastic evening,” he said. “Shame it has to end.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“I have a room here in the hotel. If you’d like a night cap?”
“You have a room?”
“I don’t like to drink and drive.”
“I really should go home.”
“If that’s what you want—”
He was good—very good.
“Just a nightcap?”
“Of course, and then I’ll get you a cab.”
“Okay. Just the one.”
As we walked out of the restaurant, and through the lobby, I glanced around to see if I could spot Daze. Knowing her, she’d probably have taken a job at the hotel as cover.
As we made our way to his room, I could feel his gaze on my neck. I still hadn’t seen Daze—maybe she was waiting in his room. He opened the door, stepped to one side and ushered me inside. Even though I could feel his presence behind me, it was a little unnerving to see only my reflection in the full length mirror next to the door. Where was Daze? I was beginning to get a little worried. If push came to shove, I could use my own magical powers, but I wasn’t sure how well level one and two spells would fare against a determined vampire.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” he said, as though he’d noticed it for the first time. “Let me see.” He stooped—his face getting ever closer to my neck. Come on Daze. Where are you?
“That’s close enough!” The squeaky voice made us both jump.
“Who are you?” Damon shouted.
A good question and one I wanted answering too. The diminutive young man with the squeaky voice certainly wasn’t Daze unless she’d really upped her game when it came to disguises.
“Damon Black, you’re under arrest.” The young man was wearing a catsuit not dissimilar to the one worn by Daze. Whereas Daze cut an intimidati
ng figure, Squeaky looked like his mother had bought him the costume for his tenth birthday. Where was Daze?
Damon pushed me aside, and started to walk towards Squeaky. “Step out of my way boy, before I crush you!”
“You are charged with violating the sup code of ethics!” Squeaky seemed unfazed by Damon’s approach. He was either very brave or very, very stupid.
“Code of ethics? Don’t make me laugh. Get out of my way now or—”
Everything happened so quickly, I barely had a chance to register what I’d seen. Damon had launched himself at Squeaky, who had sidestepped him with ease. A flash of light, just like that from the ‘lightning bolt’ spell, hit Damon in the back, sending him crashing into the wall. Before he could recover, Squeaky had employed the chain-link netting similar to the one that I’d seen Daze use.
“I’ll be back,” Squeaky said, and then the two of them disappeared.
What on earth had just happened?
“Sorry about that.” True to his word, Squeaky was back.
“What just happened?”
“Black’s in custody. I’ll process the paperwork later.”
“But—who are you?”
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. I’m Blaze, Daze’s second in command.”
“Daze and Blaze?”
“Catchy eh? That was my idea. Daze wanted me to call myself Link—my real name is Lincoln. I think Blaze works better, don’t you?”
“Err—I—where is Daze?”
“She sends her apologies. She was double-booked—”
“Double-booked?”
“Yeah. That girl can kick some serious ass, but between you and me, when it comes to paperwork, she’s a nightmare.”
“So, are you a sup sup too?”
“Sup squared, that’s me.”
“I didn’t think sups liked that term.”
“Daze doesn’t. I wouldn’t advise using it around her. Me, I don’t mind. Daze said she’ll catch up with you soon. Thanks again for your help. I’d better get back and sort out the bad guy. See you around.”
“Bye.”
Winky was still playing hard to get with Bella.
“How’s that working out for you?” I asked, as I poured milk into his bowl.
“I figure if I give it another two days, she’ll be pining for me.”
“Right.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Bella now appeared to be signalling to at least three other cats. “Where are your socks?”
“They made my paws sweat.”
No one wants a cat with sweaty paws.
Mrs V popped her head into my office; she’d apparently given up on the intercom.
“There’s a young woman to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment.”
“Name?”
“Hilary Vicars.”
“Show her in.”
“Will do, as soon as she has picked out a scarf.”
“Of course.”
“And socks.”
“Naturally.”
Hilary smiled, she looked much younger than the last time I’d seen her. Prettier too. She held up the scarf and socks by way of a question.
“Mrs V likes to knit.”
“She has a lot of scarves.”
“Not so many socks though. She’s only recently moved on to those. Have a seat. You’re looking much better than the last time we met.”
“Thanks. I feel much better.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I came to apologise really. I wasn’t very helpful when you came to see me.”
“Battery?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I was an idiot to ever go out with him. He was a friend of Hector’s.”
“Was he violent towards you?”
“Not physically, but he did scare me. I wanted to tell you about the car, but I couldn’t. How did you find it?”
“I have my sources.”
“Hector was livid. He’d told Battery to torch the car, but that big idiot tried to make a few quid by taking it to the breaker’s yard.”
“What are your plans now?” I asked.
“I’m going to move away. Maybe go abroad. There’s nothing to keep me here now that Mum’s gone. Somewhere Hector and Battery won’t find me when they get out.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“There’s one thing I need to do before I leave. That’s why I came to see you.”
“What’s that?”
“I know Mum wanted the Dog Rescue to have some of her money. She’d planned to change her Will. I’d like to donate some of the money I inherited.”
“That’s very generous, but you’re under no obligation to do that. And besides, I didn’t think you liked dogs?”
“I don’t, but it’s what Mum would have wanted. I wish I could donate Hector’s share, but he’ll no doubt blow that as soon as he gets out.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Positive.”
“I can arrange a meeting for you with Colonel Briggs.”
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to see him.”
“I’m sure he would like to thank you personally.”
“No.” She put the scarf and socks onto my desk while she fished around in her handbag. “Here.” She handed me a cheque. “It’s roughly a third. Would you give this to him please?”
My faith in human nature had almost been restored. If for every Hector there was a Hilary, maybe the human race would survive after all.
Chapter 19
“I’m really not sure about this,” I said, as I examined the line of socks strung across the outer office.
“I’ve run out of cupboard space,” Mrs V said.
“Even so. I’m not sure it conveys the right impression.”
“I thought it was rather Christmassy.”
“Here’s a crazy idea, why not take them home with you? And the scarves too?”
“That wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“What would I give to your clients?”
“A friendly smile? A cup of tea?”
“Perhaps you could buy another cupboard for me to put the socks in?”
“Let me sleep on that.”
Winky was on my desk—he didn’t look up when I walked in.
“What have I told you about sitting on there?”
“Where is it?” His one good eye flitted back and forth as he looked around all corners of the room.
“Where is what?”
“It was over in that corner.”
“What was? Will you get down off that desk!”
“Not until you get rid of that mouse.”
“Mouse?” I climbed onto the leather sofa. I wasn’t scared—I just didn’t want to squash the poor little thing. “Are you sure you saw a mouse?”
“I suppose it could have been an Armadillo—of course I’m sure it was a mouse. Do you think I’m stupid?”
So tempted. “Why didn’t you catch it then?”
He gave me a look of sheer contempt. “Catch it?”
“Isn’t that what cats do?”
“I do not catch mice. I have far more important things to do with my time.”
“Such as?”
“I read a lot. And I think. I spend a lot of time thinking.”
“About what?”
“The meaning of life. Politics. Literature.”
“Salmon?”
“Salmon too.”
“I don’t see it.” I stepped down cautiously.
“You should call in an exterminator.”
I was sorely tempted to do that, but not for the mouse problem.
“They cost money. Why have a dog and bark yourself?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have you.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I know.”
“Why do you want to bark?”
“Never mind. I don’t have money for an exterminator. You’ll have to get rid of it.”
&n
bsp; “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
He said something, but it was so quiet I didn’t catch it. “Pardon?”
“I’m scared of mice, okay? Happy now that you’ve humiliated me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“I’m not.” I bit my lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” I couldn’t hold back the laughter another moment.
“I hate you.” Winky turned his back on me.
On my way out of the office, I asked Mrs V if she’d call in an exterminator. She couldn’t hide her disappointment when I explained it was actually for a mouse.
Daze had asked me to call in on her at the laundry. She was loading one of the industrial sized washing machines.
“Jill, hi.”
“How many different jobs have you had?”
“I get bored easily.” She closed the washing machine door, and pressed the ‘wash’ button. “The steam in here is playing havoc with my hair. Cup of tea?”
The tea came out of a vending machine at the back of the shop. The water in the washing machine would probably have tasted better.
“I wanted to apologise for the other day,” Daze said. “I shouldn’t have left you in the lurch like that. I’d double booked you with a werewolf money launderer.”
“That’s what your sidekick said. What’s his name, ‘Blaze’?”
“Yeah. Stupid name. What was he thinking? Daze and Blaze. We sound like a music hall act. I wanted him to be known as ‘Link’. What do you think?”
I shrugged. The levels of surreal in my life still surprised me.
“How did he do?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure he’d be a match for Black, but he got the job done. The catsuit isn’t a good look on him though.”
“I’ve been telling him that for months, but I’m wasting my breath.”
“Tomorrow’s the big day!” Kathy screamed down the phone.
“Yay!”
“You could at least try to sound excited. It is my birthday.”
“I’m sorry. I am excited—honest. I’m just dead on my feet.”
“Then get to bed. You have to be on top form tomorrow. You and I are going to get hammered.”
The birthday tradition went back years. The rule was neither of us should work on our birthday, and we had to spend the whole day together. It was a bone of contention with Peter who felt Kathy should spend time with him and the kids on her birthday—I couldn’t say I blamed him. But still the tradition continued. Normally, I was up for it, but this year I had the slight complication of a wedding on the same day.