by Adele Abbott
“A lot of painful trial and error.” I glanced at the bags they were carrying. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“It’s our weekly shop.” Blodwyn’s accent was as delightful as ever. “What do you make of the market, Jill?”
“I’ve only just got here, but it seems mighty impressive.”
“It is. You should take a good look around. We can’t hang around, unfortunately.” My father held up one of the bags. “Some of this stuff needs to go into the freezer. But now you’re able to come to GT, why don’t you join us for Sunday lunch, this weekend?”
“That would be nice, thanks. I already know where to find you. Yours is the house that is painted red, right?”
“I take it that your mother has been complaining about the colour?”
“She’s not impressed.”
“We only did it to wind her up.”
“Less of the ‘we’.” Blodwyn play-thumped his arm. “I had nothing to do with it, Jill. Those two are as bad as one another.”
“I’d better let you get your frozen stuff home. I’ll see you both on Sunday.”
When Mad had first floated the idea of my magicking myself to GT, it had seemed rather far-fetched. Even after I’d managed to do it, I’d only really considered how it might help with inter-world crime fighting. I was just beginning to realise that it would also enable me to reconnect with my birth parents and their families. It was such a shame that I couldn’t share any of this with Jack.
***
Doris Jay had contacted me to confirm that her brother-in-law, Charles Parsons, the solicitor, had arranged for me to talk to Kylie. I’d expected another run-in with Leo Riley, but when I met Parsons at Washbridge police station, we were shown straight to an interview room by the duty sergeant—there was no sign of Riley.
Doris had told me that her daughter was twenty-three years old, but she looked older—the events of the last few days had obviously taken their toll. Her lank, mousy hair fell over her face, obscuring her eyes.
“Kylie, this is Jill Gooder.” Parsons introduced me. “Your mum has hired her to help with your case.”
“Hi, Kylie,” I said. “Are you okay to answer my questions?”
“I guess.” She shrugged.
“How are you feeling?”
“How do you think?” She suddenly became animated. “It’s horrible in here. Can you get me out?”
“Only the courts can decide that,” Parsons interjected. “There’s a good chance you will get bail.”
“I can’t stay here for another night. I’ll go crazy.”
“Kylie!” I raised my voice to get her attention. “I know this is a nightmare for you, but we only have a limited amount of time. If I’m going to help you, I really do need you to answer my questions.”
“Okay.”
“Can you start by telling me exactly what happened when you walked into the studio?”
“Lee was just sitting there—staring at me. I didn’t realise anything was wrong at first—not until I saw—” She paused for a moment to compose herself. “The blood. And the knife.”
“Was there anyone else in the studio?”
She shook her head.
“What about on your way in? Did you pass anyone?”
“No.”
“Did you touch the knife?”
“No!” She shouted. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“You were in shock. Is it possible that your hand went to the knife, instinctively?”
“No. As soon as I saw the blood and the knife, I just screamed and backed away.”
“Okay. Can we talk about your relationship with Lee Sparks?”
“I loved him. I used to call him Sparky, and he called me Little Jay.”
“Did he love you?”
“Yes.” She looked down at the table. “At first.”
“But that changed?”
“He still insisted he loved me—”
“But?”
“He was seeing other girls.” She looked up again. “He denied it, but I knew he was.”
“Your mother said he treated you badly. Was he ever violent towards you?”
“No.” She hesitated. “Not really. He just had a short fuse.”
“But you still loved him?”
“I know you think I’m stupid.”
“I’m not here to pass judgement on you. I’m here to try to help. Why did you visit the studio that day?”
“We’d had a fight the night before. I’d walked out on him.”
“Were you there to try to make up?”
“No. I’d gone there to finish with him, once and for all. Even though I still loved him, I’d realised that he was never going to change.”
“How did he react?”
“He didn’t!” She glared at me. “I’ve already told you. Lee was dead when I got there.”
“Were you expecting him to take it badly? Is that why you took the knife with you?”
She pushed the chair back, and stood up. “I thought you were here to help me? I didn’t take the knife, and I didn’t kill Lee.”
“I believe you, but I had to be sure. Sit down again, please.”
She took a deep breath to compose herself before returning to her seat.
“What I need you to do now, Kylie, is to give me the names of everyone who had a grudge against Lee. Anyone you can think of.”
“A lot of people didn’t like Lee. He was arrogant, and didn’t care about anyone except himself.” She caught my look. “I know what you’re thinking. Why would I want to be with someone like that?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll tell you why. When we first met, he treated me like a princess. He made me feel like I was the only person in the world who mattered to him.”
“You said there were a lot of people who didn’t like Lee. Who in particular?”
“He’d recently sacked his manager, Raymond Conway. Lee said he was useless. Ray threatened Lee with all kinds of stuff.”
“Did Lee seem worried?”
“No. He just brushed it off. Then there’s Mike Spins.”
“Who’s he?”
“Another DJ at the radio station. He used to have the drive-time spot before they brought Lee in. Mike is like a thousand years old—a has-been, according to Lee.”
“Anyone else?”
“Dale Royal?”
“Who’s that?”
“The producer. Lee didn’t rate him, and was going to bring in his own man.”
“What would that have meant for Royal?”
“I’m not sure. He’d probably have been out of a job.”
“Anyone else?”
“No, I don’t think so.” She hesitated. “There was the stalker, of course.”
“What stalker?”
“She called herself a super-fan, and used to hang around the radio station all the time. She was convinced that Lee was in love with her. At first, Lee thought it was funny, but after a while he got fed up with it. He ended up taking out a restraining order against her.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Hills. Short for Hilary, I think. I don’t know her last name.”
“No problem. I’ll find her.”
“Can you help to clear my name? I don’t want to go to prison for something I didn’t do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find out who murdered Lee.”
***
I wasn’t looking forward to this. It was the meeting of the Combined Sup Council, and I was under pressure to try to stop them passing the new tax on sups living in the human world.
I was just about to go into the town hall when my phone rang. It was Grandma—just what I needed.
“I can’t talk now, Grandma. I’m just about to go into the meeting.”
“What meeting?”
“What do you mean: what meeting? The one you’ve been on my case about for the last week. The vote on the new tax proposal.”
“Oh, yes. I’d forgotten that
was today. Just make sure the vote goes the right way.”
“I’ll try. I have to get inside now.”
“Hold your horses, young lady. I have a bone to pick with you.”
“This is hardly the time, Grandma. I’m going to be late.”
“How dare you incite my staff to strike?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t play the innocent with me. I know it was you who gave them the idea. Your sister and Chloe are standing outside my shop, brandishing placards. I’m all by myself in here. How am I supposed to cope?”
“You’ll just have to negotiate with them.”
“Do what? Do you think I’m going to be bullied by those two?”
“They’re not bullying you, Grandma. They simply want a fair wage for a fair day’s work.”
“We’ll see how they feel when I bring in new staff. They’ll be laughing on the other side of their faces then.”
“Can’t you just be reasonable?”
“Reasonable?” She cackled. “What a ridiculous idea. Now get in there and get that tax proposal thrown out.”
Oh dear. I’d really done it this time. When I’d suggested the strike to Kathy, I hadn’t thought she’d actually go through with it. If she and Chloe lost their jobs, I’d be in big trouble.
***
I hated the meetings of the Combined Sup Council. Most of the time was spent discussing trivial matters, which were of little or no importance to anyone outside those four walls. The majority of members on the council were so full of their own self-importance that it was actually painful.
I sat through the first nine items on the agenda, without saying a word. It took me all my time not to doze off.
“And now we come to the final item on today’s agenda,” the chairman said. “The proposal to introduce a tax on sups living in the human world. I’m sure everyone around this table will agree this is long overdue, so unless there are any objections, I suggest we go straight to a vote.”
“Wait!” I stood up.
All eyes were on me.
“Miss Gooder?” The chairman smiled that charming but false smile of his. “Was there something you wanted to say?”
“Yes, actually. I wanted to congratulate all the members around this table for their selflessness today. All too often, politicians avoid passing any regulation that will adversely affect the constituents whose votes they rely on. I am impressed by your conviction to do what is right, regardless of the impact that may have on your chances of being re-elected. I’m sure you will all be aware that there are a large number of sups who live and work in the human world. Each of those sups is of course entitled to vote in the elections. It’s true that normally very few bother to do so because they are not affected by the council’s policies as much as those who live in Candlefield. The proposed tax is different because it will affect every one of them. Come the next election, we’d be naive to believe that they won’t want to express their anger by voting against those council members who helped to introduce the new tax. Still, as I’ve already said, I can’t help but admire your integrity for pushing this through. So, let’s take a vote. I vote for the new tax.” I raised my hand.
The chairman, along with everyone else around the table, looked stunned. “Err—thank you, Miss Gooder. All those in favour of the new tax, please raise your hand.”
Mine was the only hand raised.
Chapter 9
When we came out of the town hall, I was giddy with delight. Me, the politician? Who would have thought it? As soon as I was out of earshot of the other council members, I made a call to Grandma. She would be thrilled with the news.
“Grandma, it’s me.”
“Of course it’s you. Who else would it be on your phone?”
“I have good news.”
“I could do with some.”
“The new tax proposal was defeated. I managed to talk them around.”
“Good, now how about talking your sister around. She’s still on strike.”
“Is that all the thanks I get?”
“I’m sorry, Jill. That was very thoughtless of me. Maybe you’d like me to bake you a cake? Would you like a chocolate one? Or maybe, a nice strawberry one? How about some champagne too?”
“A ‘thank you’ would be nice. It wouldn’t kill you to show a little gratitude.”
“Hold on a second, Jill. I think I just heard something. Oh, it’s okay. It was just the sound of a tiny violin. Can you hear it?”
“Goodbye!” I ended the call.
That woman was the most selfish, despicable person I’d ever known. Just wait until she wanted another favour from me. I’d tell her to go whistle.
What do you mean ‘talk is cheap’? You just see if I don’t.
***
“Whatever is wrong, Jill?” Aunt Lucy was in her kitchen.
“It’s Grandma.”
“I might have known. What has she done this time?”
“She’s been banging on at me for ages to get the new tax proposal thrown out at the Combined Sup Council meeting. Somehow, against all the odds, I managed to do it, and what thanks do I get?”
“None, I’m guessing?”
“Not even so much as a ‘thank you’. To hear her talk, you’d have thought she was doing me a favour.”
“I don’t really understand why you’re surprised. Surely, you know her well enough by now.”
“You’re right, but every now and then, I delude myself into believing that maybe, somewhere deep inside, she has a heart.”
“How about a nice cup of tea and some custard creams? That’ll cheer you up.”
“Thanks. The thing I don’t understand is, with Grandma for a mother, how did you and Mum turn out so nice?”
“Maybe we’ll turn bitter and twisted when we get older, too.”
“I doubt that.”
By the time I’d eaten my fourth custard cream, I was beginning to calm down.
What do you mean, greedy? There were extenuating circumstances.
“I was going to ask you a favour, Jill, but I’m not sure I should after your run in with Grandma.”
“Don’t be silly. You can ask me anything. I owe you so much.”
“I could do with some help to pick out a dress for the grim reaper dinner and dance.”
“Wouldn’t you be better asking the twins?”
“No. They’d try to persuade me to buy something that they like, but that doesn’t suit me at all. The difficulty is knowing what would be appropriate for a grim reaper bash. Does everyone dress like they would for any other dinner and dance, or do you think people stick with drab colours?”
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“Will you help me to choose something?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, Jill. And don’t mention it to the twins, please.”
“My lips are sealed. Talking of ‘sealed’, do you know what happened to Magna’s room at the museum?”
“I heard that they’d resealed it. They didn’t want visitors to the museum going down there. Why do you ask?”
“Do you remember I told you about Imelda Barrowtop’s journal?”
“Yes. I didn’t think you had it, though?”
“I do now, thanks to the starlight fairy wings which you found for me.”
“Is there anything in there of interest?”
“Nothing much.” I lied because I didn’t want to freak Aunt Lucy out by telling her about the red haired, red bearded man, or about the pendant. “But there is mention that Magna left some kind of message inside the sealed room.”
“What kind of message?”
“I’ve no idea. I’d like to take a look inside to see if I can find it.”
“I know I said the room had been resealed, but I’m sure they wouldn’t object to you going back inside.”
“I’ll go over there when I get the chance. It’s probably nothing, but it can’t do any harm to take a look around.”
“Did you go
and see Miles Best?” Aunt Lucy took a new packet of custard creams out of the cupboard, to replenish the Tupperware box.
“Yes. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about that. I wondered how you’d feel about helping me with that particular case?”
“Me? Help you with a case?” Her face lit up. “How exciting! What would you need me to do?”
I spent the next twenty minutes running through my plan with her.
“What do you think? Are you up for it?”
“Count me in, Jill. When do we do it?”
***
Mrs V didn’t look happy; neither did Jules.
“Have you two fallen out again?”
“Not with each other.”
They were both glaring at me.
“Hang on. Are you both mad at me? What did I do?”
“Why didn’t you tell us, Jill?” Jules demanded.
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“That we were both making the same thing?” Mrs V said.
“Hold on! You both made it quite clear that I wasn’t to tell the other what you were making. And besides, they’re not the same. Yours is a tea cosy, and Jules’ is a hat.”
“They’re the same design—using the same pattern. They’re almost identical.”
Mrs V stood up and held her tea cosy aloft. Jules followed suit, and held up her hat. There was very little difference between them.
“Couldn’t one of you knit something else for the competition?”
“There isn’t time.” Mrs V’s frustration was showing. “The entries have to be submitted by this evening.”
“Right, sorry. I don’t really know what to say, then.”
That was me off their Christmas card list.
I’d just set foot in my office when Winky screamed at me, “Get back!”
“What?” I stepped back.
He reached down and scooped something off the floor. “You’ve killed him!”
“Killed who?”
“Bob! You just stood on him. Murderer!” Winky scurried away, and hid under the sofa.
“Winky! I’m sorry. I didn’t see him there.”
“He was my only friend.” He was fighting back the tears. “Bob’s gone. Who will I talk to now?”