Witch Is When I Said Goodbye (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 10)
Page 13
“Terrible business,” Tom said. “On a purely selfish note, I hope it doesn’t damage their business long term.”
“Selfish how?”
“That shop has been really good for us. They buy all their instruments from here.”
“You’ll know Tony Tuck, then?”
“Yeah. He’s always in here. Those instruments take some hammer.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. So, I assume he comes in quite often to order new ones?”
“Yeah. Plus, he leaves all the damaged ones with us. We’re able to repair some of them.”
“Where do you keep the damaged instruments he brings in?”
“There’s a storeroom over there.” Tom pointed. “Tony brings them through the door from the common yard at the back.”
“Can I take a look?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
The store room was a mess. There were damaged instruments of every kind scattered all over the floor—this was going to take a while. I had to approach it logically, so I started from the left hand side of the room, checking each drum I came across. I was about two thirds of the way through them when I spotted a drum with a tear in its skin.
Just as I’d suspected, there was something inside it.
***
Tony Tuck wouldn’t be back from Vegas for at least another day. In the meantime, I had to make good on my promise to find out who’d let Mrs V’s secret out of the bag.
One of Armitage’s people, maybe? But how would they have known? Mrs V definitely wouldn’t have taken out her crochet while they were there. Someone must have been through her drawers, but who else had access to her desk?
And then it struck me! Of course!
I gave Kathy a call, and just as I hoped, she had the address I needed.
Doreen Daggers greeted me with a smile.
“Jill. Do come in. How did you know where I lived?”
“My sister, Kathy, found your address in the Ever members’ database. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. It’s lovely to see you. I don’t get many visitors.”
I followed her through to the lounge.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“No thanks, Doreen. Look, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“I think I know what it is. Me and my big mouth. I just don’t know when to keep quiet.”
“You told the Yarnies about Mrs V’s crochet?”
“Not intentionally. I spotted it when I was looking for a tissue in V’s desk. It didn’t bother me at all. I’ve never understood why there’s so much animosity between the knitters and the crocheters. But like an idiot, I let it slip in front of Phyllis Cartwright, Vice President of the local Yarnies. I could have kicked myself. As soon as I’d said it, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Annabel. She’s been such a good friend to me over the years. I suppose you’ll have to tell her now though.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I will need Phyllis Cartwright’s address.”
I arrived on Phyllis Cartwright’s doorstep unannounced. She was all doilies and lace curtains.
“Yes? Who are you?” she said, while trying not to swallow the plum in her mouth.
“I’m Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. I believe you know my P.A, Annabel Versailles?”
“Yes, I know Annabel. Now, what can I do for you, young lady?”
“It’s more a case of what I can do for you. I’m here to save you from embarrassing yourself. May I come in?” I didn’t wait for a reply; I just stepped inside.
“What do you mean? Why would I embarrass myself? Why exactly are you here, Miss Gooder?”
I put my bag on the coffee table, and took from it first a small trophy, and then a framed photo. “Please take a close look at these.”
She picked up the cup and read the inscription, and then checked the caption on the photo.
“You’re the regional crochet champion?”
“Third year in a row, actually. So, you see, I keep crochet all over my office, including some in Mrs V’s desk. She doesn’t like it, but she’s my employee, so she has to put up with it. Now, from what she tells me, you’ve accused her of being in possession of crochet.”
“That was the information I was given.” Her air of confidence had evaporated.
“Well, it seems you were misled, and if you insist on pursuing this, I’ll be forced to come forward to clarify matters. I don’t think that would look very good for you.”
“There’s no need for that. Now I’ve been made aware of the situation, no further action will be taken, obviously.”
“I knew you would see sense.”
“Thank you so much, Jill,” Mrs V said. She was full of smiles when I got back to the office. “The Yarnies Vice President just phoned to say that they won’t be pursuing the crochet incident.”
“That’s great.”
“I’m very sorry I doubted you.”
“Don’t give it a second thought.”
“Doreen called earlier too. She told me that she was the one who had let it slip.”
“I hope you weren’t too hard on her.”
“Of course not. She and I go way back. I know she wouldn’t have done it maliciously. All’s well that ends well. Oh, and by the way, Jill, you must show me your crochet trophies sometime.”
***
Thank goodness I’d persuaded Mrs V to stay. Even though she did very little ‘real’ work, the office simply wouldn’t have been the same without her. To reward myself for a job well done, I decided coffee and a blueberry muffin were in order. Coffee Triangle was still closed, so I tried another coffee shop—one I hadn’t been in before: Beans.
As soon as I walked through the door, I realised that I’d been wrong when I’d assumed the shop’s name referred to coffee beans.
“Yes, madam.” A bubbly, young woman behind the counter greeted me. She had a fringe which made her look a little like an Old English Sheepdog. “What can I get for you?”
“A regular latte, please. And a muffin of the blueberry persuasion, I think.”
I was still trying to figure out how I was going to balance the latte while sitting on one of the dozens of bean bags spread across the floor.
“Jill!” someone called.
It was Hilary; one of the girls from Love Spell.
“Come and join me.” She patted the bean bag next to hers.
I somehow managed to lower myself onto the red and white striped bean bag without spilling my drink.
“Do you come in here often?” I said.
“This is only my second time. I usually go to Coffee Triangle.”
“Me too. I miss the tambourines.”
“Still they do have bean bags here. Lots of them.”
“Is it just me or is this a weird idea?”
“It’s totally weird. I’ve seen three people spill their drinks in the last twenty minutes.”
“How’s the dating business?”
“Going from strength to strength. We can’t find enough human men to keep up with demand.”
“Mr Ivers doesn’t seem to be having much luck.”
“No, we’re still trying to find him a match, but we get the same feedback from every witch he dates.”
“Too boring?”
“Got it in one.”
Just then, someone pulled up a bean bag next to ours. It was Jim Keeper, the Grim Reaper. Instinctively, both Hilary and I made to stand up.
“Don’t leave ladies, please. Just give me a moment.”
Hilary and I exchanged a worried look.
“I’m not on duty,” he said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“What do you want, Jim?” I asked.
“Just some advice. It was actually you I wanted to see, Hilary.”
“In that case I’ll be off,” I said.
“No!” Hilary grabbed my arm. “Please stay, Jill.” I could see the terror in her eyes.
“Okay then.”
What could I say? It was true.
“And you, Hilary. You threw me off your books.”
“We only allow human men to register.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m used to it. No one wants to know a Grim Reaper. I feel like we’ve had some bad press.”
“What was it you wanted to see me about?” Hilary sounded nervous.
“It suddenly occurred to me that I can’t be the only Reaper with this problem. So I got to thinking. Why don’t I start my own dating agency—just for Reapers? I could call it Grim Cupid or Love you to Death.”
“I think you’ll need to work on the name,” I said.
“You could be right. Anyway, Hilary, I was hoping you might give me some advice, based on your experience. You know: tips, pitfalls to watch out for; that kind of thing.”
“Sure. Why not?” Hilary seemed to have relaxed a little.
“Right,” I struggled to my feet. “I really do have to go now. Good luck with your new venture, Jim.”
When I reached the door, I turned back to them. “How about ‘Reap the Love’?”
Chapter 18
Coffee Triangle was scheduled to reopen at nine a.m. When I arrived there at seven-thirty, the lights were on, so I knew someone was inside. I banged on the door, and eventually Tony Tuck, the manager, appeared from the back office.
“We’re not open yet,” he shouted.
I banged on the door again.
“Nine o’clock!”
I banged on the door again.
He was clearly annoyed as he approached the door. “We’re not open!”
“Let me in. I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“It’ll have to wait until nine o’clock.”
“This can’t wait. I want to talk to you about Joe Snow.”
“You can’t come in.”
“Unlock the door or I’ll break it down.”
He looked more puzzled than worried, but he unlocked the door anyway.
“Who are you? What’s this about?”
“My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator.”
“If you have information about the murder, you should take it to the police.”
“Don’t worry, I will, but first I want to know why you killed Snow.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know you owed him money. Had he threatened to harm you? Or kill you? Is that why you did it?”
“You’re talking nonsense. Get out of here before I call the police.”
“Why don’t you do that? I’m sure they’d be interested to hear what I have to tell them.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t kill anybody. You can’t prove a thing.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m fairly sure that once the police examine the murder weapon, they’ll be able to trace it back to you one way or another.”
“What murder weapon? There is no murder weapon. The police said they couldn’t find it. Get out of here before I throw you out.” He started towards me, but I easily pushed him away. The ‘power’ spell made me far stronger than he was.
He looked surprised. “You can’t prove anything,” he repeated. “You’re wasting your time.”
“Hmm. Well, let’s see now. This is what I think happened. Joe Snow came around to collect on his debt. He probably threatened to hurt or even kill you, but when he got here the shop was absolutely packed. He couldn’t do anything while there were people around, so he took a seat and waited. You knew what was going to happen after everyone had left. Things were going to turn nasty. The drums had already been handed out, but you knew that there were plenty of damaged ones down at Tom Tom. You’d probably had the gun for some time because you were expecting trouble. This was your opportunity. You hid the gun in the drum until you were standing right next to Snow. No one saw you shoot him—you made sure of that by standing in such a way that the drum obscured the view of those close by. And no one heard anything because there was so much noise in the shop at the time. Then you slid the gun back inside the drum, and took it back to Tom Tom. You knew that the drums waiting for repair could be there for weeks or even months. You no doubt planned to dispose of it once things had quietened down. How am I doing so far?”
Tuck had turned pale; he obviously knew the game was up. He rushed forward, and tried to push me out of the way, but I easily deflected him, and then used the ‘tie-up’ spell to bind his feet and hands.
“What are you going to do now?” he said, panic-stricken.
“That’s for the police to decide. It’s possible you may get off with a lesser charge once they know Snow had threatened you.”
I fetched the drum, with the gun still inside it, from my car, and put it on the floor next to him. Then I made a call to Tom Hawk.
***
Aunt Lucy had phoned to ask if I’d go straight over to see her.
“Thanks for coming over, Jill. I made some muffins yesterday, would you like to try one?”
“What flavour are they?”
“Your favourite, blueberry.”
“Go on then, if you’re twisting my arm.”
Aunt Lucy made tea for us both. The muffin was delicious. Maybe I should have had two?
“Why did you want to see me, Aunt Lucy. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah—everything’s fine. I suppose.”
“That’s not very convincing.”
“It’s just that I’ve had a bit of a shock.”
“What’s happened?”
“Yesterday, out of the blue, Lester suddenly suggested that he’d like us to live in the human world.”
For some reason, I’d never pictured Aunt Lucy living anywhere other than Candlefield. In fact, I couldn’t imagine her living anywhere other than in that house.
“What brought that up?”
“Lester used to live and work in the human world, but it’s quite a long time ago now.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He worked as a traffic warden. He’s always saying how much he enjoyed the job, and how friendly the people were.”
“Are you sure he said ‘traffic warden’?”
“Positive. He said people were always happy to see him.”
Lester was either delusional or he’d had a drink problem back then.
“Anyway,” Aunt Lucy continued. “He came out with the idea yesterday; completely out of the blue. It was the last thing I’d expected him to suggest.”
“Have you ever lived in the human world?”
“No. I’ve never really had any desire to. I’ve been there many times, but never to stay. Not even for a single night. I’ve always lived here in Candlefield, among sups. It’s where I feel comfortable. It’s where I belong.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I said I couldn’t give him an answer straight away. That I’d need time to think about it. And, to be fair, he understood.”
“Have you told anyone else about this—what about Grandma?”
“No. Your grandmother wouldn’t like the idea at all. She’s not a fan of the human world.”
“But she has a business in Washbridge.”
“Yeah, but it’s a case of ‘Do as I say, not do as I do’ with Grandma. You should know that by now.”
It was true. Grandma was always telling me I should live in Candlefield, and yet she spent almost as much time in Washbridge as I did.
“What about the twins? Haven’t you told them either?”
“No. I need to think this through for myself first. I know both of them would love to move to the human world one day, but it’s not really practical at the moment. Not while they have Cuppy C to run. I’m not sure how they’d cope if I moved there.”
“They’re grown women, Aunt Lucy. They should be able to take care of themselves.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you, but judging by the amount of time they spend around here, the number of things they ask me to do for them, and the amount of money they borrow from me—”
“I didn’t know they borrowed money from you. They shouldn’t need to do that—they have their own business.”
“I know, but have you seen how many clothes they buy? Those two girls have never been any different. If I moved to the human world, how would they cope? Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you had any thoughts on it.”
“Not really. Maybe you could try spending a few days there. That would give you a chance to see whether you’d like to live there or not.”
“That’s a good idea. I could spend a little time there between now and the wedding. Then, if I absolutely hate it, I’ll just have to tell Lester that I can’t do it. Thanks, Jill. I knew you’d give me good advice.”
“Don’t mention it. My pleasure.”
“In fact,” Aunt Lucy said. “I know what I could do, if it’s okay with you?”
“What’s that?”
“Why don’t I move in with you for a little while, and see how I like it. You could be my guide to the human world, and we’d be company for one another.”
“You mean move into my flat?”
“Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it?”
“Err—yeah. Great.”
Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut? If Aunt Lucy moved in with me, it would be a disaster. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her to bits. She was like a mother to me, and I’d do anything for her. Well, almost anything. But I really didn’t want her to live with me. How was I meant to have any kind of love life if she moved in? I know I didn’t actually have much of a love life, but I lived in hope. Can you imagine if I invited Jack back to the flat, and Aunt Lucy greeted him at the door? What a passion killer that would be.
***
While walking to Cuppy C, I was still trying to get my head around the idea of Aunt Lucy moving in with me. What a nightmare!
When I reached the top of the road, I spotted a crowd of people on the opposite side of the street from Cuppy C. As I drew closer, I realised the crowd was outside Best Cakes. Were they having some kind of promotion?