Witch is How Things Had Changed (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 25)

by Adele Abbott

  “Right, but like I said—”

  He stood up. “Manic will see himself out.”

  “Who was that weirdo?” Winky came out from under the sofa.

  “I’ve no idea, but I feel like I need a shower.”

  “Anyway, about the cash for the tux.”

  Before I could respond, my phone rang; it was Jack.

  “Jill, I’ve just had a call from one of my old oppos at Washbridge police station. He wasn’t supposed to tell me, but he knew that Bill Mellor was a friend of mine.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “It seems that Bill didn’t die from natural causes. They say he was poisoned.”

  “Accidentally?”

  “I don’t know. They want the three of us: me, Chris and Graham to call in so they can interview us. I’ve said I’ll go in this afternoon, so it’s just possible that I’ll be late home tonight.”

  “Could it be something he ate at the bowling alley last night? What about you? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. We didn’t really have much to eat—just a burger and a coke.”

  “Okay. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do. See you tonight.”

  Winky cleared his throat to get my attention. He was holding out his paw.

  “How much is this tux going to cost me?” I said.

  “A hundred should do it.”

  “You don’t need to buy one. You can just hire it.”

  “That is the cost to hire it. Feline tuxes aren’t ten a penny, you know.”

  I checked my purse. “I’ve only got seventy-five pounds.”

  “That’ll do.” He snatched the cash from my hand. “You won’t regret it. I’ll be the smartest pagecat you’ve ever seen.”

  And the first.

  Winky disappeared out of the window just as Mrs V came through to my office.

  “What did that creepy little man want?”

  “I honestly don’t have any idea. I think he was a lettuce short of a sandwich.”

  “Shouldn’t that be a sandwich short of a picnic?”

  “Lettuce, sandwich? Same difference.”

  “I’ve been thinking about your pageboy situation, Jill, and maybe I can help.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Do you remember the pageboy issue I had at my wedding?”

  “Andy and Randy?”

  “Andy and Raymond, actually, but yes. If you recall, I was worried about having both of them as pageboys in case they started fighting.”

  “I never did find out how you resolved that situation. From what I remember, they both behaved perfectly on the day. How did you manage that?”

  “I drugged them.”

  “What?”

  “I’m only joking. I bribed them both. I said I’d give them cash if they got through the ceremony without any problems, and they did. Anyway, I was thinking that maybe you could ‘borrow’ one of my pageboys for your big day. Andy or Raymond, you could have your pick.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, Mrs V, but I’ve managed to sort out the pageboy problem. We’re going to have—err—that’s to say—err—we’ve decided not to bother.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive, but thanks for the offer.”

  Chapter 7

  Winky had taken the last of my cash for his tux, so I had to nip out to the ATM. When I checked the balance, I was pleasantly surprised to see there was a little more in the account than I’d expected. Jack and I had separate personal bank accounts plus a joint one used for all the household bills. He was much more sensible with money than I was, and no doubt had a bazillion pounds in his account. Even though I always worked to a really tight budget, I was lucky if my balance was still in double figures by the end of each month.

  What do you mean, I should cut down on the muffins and custard creams? Everyone deserves a little treat occasionally. It’s not like I overindulge.

  While I was out of the office, I decided to call in at Coffee Games for a coffee and a—err—nothing. Just a coffee. No muffins would pass my lips. Definitely not.

  “Daze? How come you’re in here? Where’s Blaze?”

  “He’s ill. He had to go home yesterday.”

  “Oh dear. Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “It turns out he’s allergic to dominoes.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m not joking. Apparently, it’s a little-known allergy called Dominitus. He was covered in little red blotches.”

  “Poor thing. I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’ll be fine. What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have a caramel latte, please.”

  “Is that all?” She gave me a puzzled look. “Why are you making hand signals, Jill?”

  “Shush! You never know who might be listening.”

  “Are you pointing to the muffins?”

  Drat. So much for my attempt at subterfuge.

  “Would you like a board game to go with that? It’s Cluedo today.”

  “Not for me, thanks. I can’t stay long.”

  The shop was very busy, so I was forced to take the table next to the door—not one of my favourites because there was a draught every time someone went in or out.

  I’d just taken a sip of coffee when the man on the next table got down on his hands and knees and crawled under my table.

  “Excuse me. What are you doing?”

  “Sorry.” He popped his head up. “I’ve lost my lead piping. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

  “No. Have you tried the conservatory?”

  What? Come on. That was not only comedy genius but lightning quick too.

  “Very amusing.” He grimaced. “Ah, here it is.” He held up the tiny piece. “Aren’t you playing Cluedo?”

  “No, I’m here by myself.”

  “You should come and join in with our game. We’ve only just started. I’m Bob Green. I’m here with my girlfriend, Scarlet.”

  “Green and Scarlet.” I laughed. “That’s very funny.”

  “Sorry?”

  “They’re both characters from Cluedo.”

  “Are they? Oh yes, so they are. It had never occurred to me.”

  Wow! Just wow!

  “Why don’t you come and join our game?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I have to go soon.”

  I’d finished my drink and was about to leave when in walked Blaze.

  “Hi, Jill. I see you’ve just polished off another muffin.”

  “Err—no. That must be someone else’s plate. I only had a coffee.”

  “Of course you did.” He grinned.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered from the Dominitus.”

  “The what?”

  “Your allergy to dominoes. Daze told me all about it.” I glanced over at the counter to see her bent double with laughter. “You’re not allergic to them at all, are you?”

  “Err—no. Is anyone? Daze was covering for me while I went to the dentist.”

  ***

  I’d no sooner left Coffee Games than Betty Longbottom came rushing across the road to me.

  “Jill, you haven’t forgotten about the big event, have you?”

  “I know I can be forgetful at times, Betty, but I’m hardly likely to forget my own wedding, am I?”

  “I’m talking about the grand opening of The Sea’s The Limit. It’s this Friday. You have to come.”

  “It’s finally ready, then?”

  “Yes, thank goodness. We’ve had so many delays and setbacks that I was beginning to think this day would never arrive. We still haven’t received the licence to allow us to keep the dangerous species yet, but hopefully that won’t be much longer. You will come, won’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Bring both of your PAs, too.”

  “I only have the one now. Jules left to go and work at Washbridge police station. I’m sure Mrs V will come though.”

  “Great. It starts at ten o’clock. Don’t be late because there’s likely to be a
big crowd.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  Betty skipped back across the road, full of the joys of Spring.

  “Did I hear you correctly, Gooder? You’re getting married?”

  I turned around to find Ma Chivers standing behind me. I hadn’t seen her for over a year—the last time had been shortly after Grandma’s moles had undermined Yarnstormers and caused it to collapse.

  “Hello, Ma. I thought you’d crawled back into your hole and decided to stay there.”

  “I’ve been on a sabbatical, but it seems I came back just in time.”

  “For what?”

  “Your wedding of course. I assume my invitation is in the post?”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

  “It would be a shame if anything happened to spoil your big day.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Of course not. I’m just saying that it would be terrible if something awful happened.”

  “You don’t scare me, Ma.”

  “That’s exactly what Alicia said.”

  “Where is Alicia, anyway? I haven’t seen her for ages. What did you do to her?”

  “Me? Nothing. You know me—I wouldn’t harm a flea. Anyway, nice speaking to you as always, Gooder. My regards to Jack.”

  It took all of my willpower not to use a lightning bolt on her, there and then. Where was Alicia? It was over a year since I’d seen her too, and I had a horrible feeling she might have met a sticky end.

  I was still seething about Ma Chivers when my phone rang.

  “Jill, it’s Desdemona Nightowl.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m afraid not. We have a bit of a problem, and I’m hoping you might be able to help. Do you think you could pop over to my office straight away?”

  “Of course. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”

  I magicked myself to the west wing of CASS, and from there made my way to the headmistress’ office.

  “Come in, Jill. Thanks for coming over so quickly. I know how busy you must be. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve just had a coffee. No muffins, though—in case you were wondering.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s ages since I had one. A muffin, that is.”

  “Okay, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. As I said on the phone, we have something of a tricky problem. As you know, it’s the inter-house sports competition a week on Friday. Unfortunately, the cup has gone missing.”

  “Really? I only saw it yesterday when I was in the Nomad girls’ dorm with Beth Nightling.”

  “It disappeared overnight.”

  “Do you have any visitors here at CASS at the moment?”

  “None, which I’m afraid must mean it was taken by one of the pupils or a member of staff.”

  “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to steal it. It’s rather ugly.”

  “Granted, it isn’t the prettiest trophy in the world, but it is quite valuable.”

  “Really?”

  “You realise it’s made of real gold?”

  “I never would have guessed, but then it looked in dire need of a clean when I saw it.”

  “That’s the problem with allowing the winning house to keep it in their dorms. There are so many grubby hands on it.”

  “I’m surprised you allow them to keep something of such value on open display in there.”

  “It’s a school tradition which dates back to the start of the inter-house sports competition. This is the first time we’ve had a problem.”

  “I assume you have no idea who might be responsible.”

  “None, but the accusations have already started to fly.”

  “Oh?”

  “A number of people have pointed the finger at Toyah Harlow, the Nomad house captain.”

  “What makes them think she might have stolen it?”

  “There’s been some suggestion that she’s hidden the trophy because she fears Nomad will lose out in next week’s competition. That’s complete nonsense, in my opinion, and I’ve warned the children that if I hear anyone make any more unsubstantiated accusations, they’ll have me to answer to. The whole thing has left a dark cloud over the school and has put next week’s competition in doubt. That’s why I called you.”

  “It might be best if I start by speaking to all of the house captains together.”

  “I agree, but as important as this issue is, the children are all sitting midterm exams today. I couldn’t justify pulling them out of those. What about tomorrow?”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “Excellent. I’ll call you later to arrange a time.”

  “While I’m here, Headmistress, can I ask you about Mr Shuttlebug?”

  “Cuthbert? Such a terrible loss. What did you want to know, exactly?”

  “I believe he had an interest in the exotic creatures of these regions.”

  “An interest?” She smiled. “An obsession, more like. He spent every spare minute on that book of his.”

  “He wrote a book?”

  “It was his life’s work. Unfortunately, it was never published. He couldn’t get a publisher interested, which is a tragedy when you consider some of the rubbish they publish these days.”

  “Do you know what happened to the book?”

  “I imagine his widow will have it. Poor Deloris. She took Cuthbert’s death very hard, as you might imagine.”

  “I’m sure. You don’t happen to have her address, do you?”

  ***

  Midway through the afternoon, I got a call from Jack to say he was on his way to my office. I asked why, but he said he was only two minutes away, and that he’d explain when he arrived.

  “What do you think?” Winky swaggered up the office in his tux.

  “You have to hide. Get under the sofa.”

  “Why?”

  “Jack’s on his way over. He can’t see you dressed like that.”

  “Why not? He’s going to see me at the wedding.”

  “I—err—I want it to be a surprise for him on the day.”

  “That makes sense, but I can’t go under the sofa. It’s dusty under there.”

  “Okay. Get in here.” I opened the cupboard door.

  “I can’t go in there either. I’m claustrophobic.”

  “It’ll only be for a few minutes. Go on.” I gave him a gentle nudge.

  Okay, so it wasn’t all that gentle.

  “It’s dark in here.”

  “Shush!”

  Just then, Jack arrived.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “I can’t believe it. Chris Jardine has been charged with Bill’s murder.”

  “What?”

  “It’s insane. Chris wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “You said Bill had been poisoned, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I assumed it was food poisoning, but it sounds like the poison was on his fingers when he bit his fingernails.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “One of my old buddies at Washbridge police station gave me a call. He’ll be in a whole heap of trouble if anyone finds out that he’s contacted me. As far as I can make out, they charged Chris because they found traces of the poison on a cigarette butt that Bill had dropped.”

  “How does that tie into Chris?”

  “Bill was supposed to have given up smoking, so he never had any cigarettes of his own. He was always bumming them off Chris. When I left them last night, they were having a crafty smoke.”

  “Is there any possibility at all that Chris could have murdered Bill?”

  “None. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. The trouble is I can’t do anything to help him. If I get involved, I’ll be thrown out of the force because I’m a friend of the suspect, and anyway, this is no longer my patch. That’s why I came to see you.”

  “You want me to investigate?”

  “Yes, but you’ll have to be discreet.”

 
; “I always am.”

  “Your idea of discreet and mine are very different, but this time, you’ll have to be ultra-careful not to tread on any toes—particularly not Sue Shay’s. If it gets out that you’re doing this for me, I’ll be for the high jump.”

  “Don’t worry. You can trust me.”

  “Thanks. It’s not worth my going back to West Chipping now, so I reckon I’ll head home.”

  “Yeah, me too. I need to call in at the shop on my way in, so I’ll see you at the house.”

  We kissed, and then he left. I was just about to follow when I heard a muffled voice.

  “Let me out!”

  “Sorry, Winky, I’d forgotten you were in there.”

  “I was almost out of air.” He stumbled out.

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. There are plenty of holes in that old cupboard.”

  ***

  My visit to the corner shop was to pick up essential supplies.

  “Anything apart from the custard creams, Jill?” Little Jack Corner had taken to wearing bow ties; today’s little number was orange.

  “No, thanks. Just those.”

  “One, two, three, four packets. Will that be enough?”

  “Yes, they should keep me going for quite some time.”

  “Like the four packets you bought two days ago?”

  “I’m sure it was much longer ago than that.”

  “It’s definitely two days. I remember because I was wearing my favourite bow tie—the purple one.”

  “We’ve had quite a few visitors to the house since then,” I lied. “They ate most of the biscuits.” I glanced around. “I haven’t seen Missy for a while.”

  “Didn’t you know? She handed in her notice and left a month ago.”

  “I thought she liked working here?”

  “She did, but then out of the blue, she quit.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “Yes, and it was for a really silly reason. She was in the store room, eating her lunch when a giant spider came down from the ceiling and sat next to her. It scared her to death. I tried to talk her into staying, but she’d made her mind up that she wanted out. Last I heard, she was working as an admin assistant in a solicitor’s office: Birds and Day, I think.”