by Sam Short
“The cushiest job in the history of police employment,” laughed Judith.
Hearing Judith laugh influenced everybody in the room. If she could be upbeat after telling her tragic story, then so could everybody who’d listened to it. Millie smiled at Judith, and as Judith reciprocated, Millie read a thought which threatened to take her legs from beneath her. Not wishing to alert Judith to the fact that her thought had crossed the short distance between them, she looked away, her mouth dry.
Judith had been right, though. However hurtful her thought was – it was valid.
How dare Millie be so upset about her magic damaging Lillieth. My magic killed my parents! I wish we could swap places! Then she’d know what real regret feels like!
Shaking the hurt from within her, Millie ran a finger over Reuben’s plumage as Lillieth stretched out her long fin.
The mermaid tilted her head to look at Sergeant Spencer. “I am ready,” she said. “I have heard enough to understand you are good people. I will answer your questions now.”
Chapter 22
"Thank you," said Sergeant Spencer, as Lillieth paid him her full attention. "My first question is why were your hairs tangled in the clothes of a murdered man who washed up on the shore?"
Lillieth's face darkened. "That poor man," she said. "I found him a long distance from shore. No life remained within him, and his clothes were sodden, dragging him towards the ocean bed. I pushed him to the shoreline — so that his fellow land people could find him and lay his body to rest in the correct tradition."
"That's why the coastguard was confused," said Sergeant Spencer. "It wasn't a freak wave which pushed him ashore, it was you?"
Lillieth gave a gentle nod. "I hope what I did was right. We are told not to interfere with other traditions, but I thought it was important."
"What you did was perfect," said Sergeant Spencer. "Thank you. I'm sure Albert would be grateful that you saved his body from the sea."
Her eyes still red from crying, Judith asked a question. "What did you mean when you said he was a cruel man and you’d do it again? Were you talking about Albert? The man you pushed ashore?"
"No," said Lillieth. "I speak of the man who captures the long-claws in his baskets. He places cages on the seabed and baits them with morsels of food to attract the long-claws. It is cruel. I release them, and relish his rage when he retrieves his empty prisons."
"You've been releasing Jim Grayson's lobsters?" said Millie.
"Yes," said Lillieth. "And I would do it again. I hear the anguished cries of the poor creatures. They are afraid when trapped in the cages. It is cruel."
"I suppose it is," said Millie. "But it's how Jim Grayson makes a living. Without the lobsters he catches, he won't be able to sell them, and he won't be able to live."
Lillieth looked away. She closed her eyes, as if in thought. "I do not wish to cause that much harm to the man. I do not wish to prevent him from living. I will make it right. You have my word."
Sergeant Spencer retrieved his notebook from his pocket. "Okay – we’ve got the bottom of one mystery — the mystery of the missing lobsters. Now let's try and solve the more pressing mystery." He looked at the page in his book. "Albert said he saw you on the rocks outside his lighthouse, Lillieth," he said. "Have you seen anything suspicious? Did you see anybody the at the lighthouse? Two days ago?"
"I watch you land people, sometimes," said Lillieth. "That's why I was near the beach last night. I find you interesting. Yes, I did see people at the lighthouse, two moons ago." She nodded towards Millie. "I saw her, the girl who took my legs. She was with the man who carried me here last night."
"You saw Millie and George?" said Sergeant Spencer. "Did you see anybody else?"
Lillieth shook her head. "No," she said. "I saw nobody else on the day you speak of, but I spend most my time in the ocean, and I don't venture too far away from the water's edge when I do walk on land. I long for a home next to the sea, so I may spend more time on the land. The dress I wear gives me legs, but they always feel strange beneath me — I like the safety of water nearby."
"The dress gives you legs?" said Millie. "How?"
"A woman like you gave it to me," said Lillieth. "A witch. From another land, far across the sea. The dress is magic. When I wear it, it gives me legs. I carry it in a purse around my waist while I travel the oceans, and the dress has always worked —" She looked at Millie. "-- until now."
"I am sorry, Lillieth" said Millie. "Really. I am. I’ll do everything I can to make it right."
Lillieth nodded. "I forgive you. Suffer your guilt no more. I shall speak no more of it. We shall see if it can be made right again. I appreciate your offer of help."
Sergeant Spencer gave a polite cough. "Is there anything else you can think of at all, Lillieth?" he said. "Anything that might help us? Did you see anything out of the ordinary at the lighthouse?"
"I am sorry," said Lillieth. "I cannot help. I saw only the people you call Millie and George." She paused, her eyes narrowing.
“What is it?" said Sergeant Spencer, the nib of his pen hovering over his notebook. "Have you thought of something?”
"I did see something," said Lillieth. "Yes. On the day you speak of. In the early part of the day. I saw one of the things you land people travel around in. With wheels. It was outside the lighthouse, but I saw no people with it. It was already there when I climbed from the sea."
"A vehicle?" said Sergeant Spencer. "You must mean a vehicle. What did it look like, Lillieth?".
"It was painted in your language," said Lillieth. "Decorated with symbols from your alphabet. I do not understand them, though. I cannot tell you what it meant."
Judith stood up, her eyes bright again. "Could you show us?" she asked. "If we show you the letters from our alphabet, do you think you could remember which ones you saw?"
"I am sure I can," said Lillieth. "We mer-people have good memories. I think I can remember."
Henry smiled. "I can help with that," he said. He bowed his head, and took a breath. He pointed at one of the rocky walls of the dungeon, and with an artistic flick of his hand, showered the wall with tiny glowing lights.
The blue lights moved like magnets, attracted to one another, forming shapes as they crawled across the imperfect surface. It wasn't long until the alphabet was illustrated on the wall, written in light.
"Do you recognise any of the symbols, Lillieth?" asked Sergeant Spencer. "It's important you tell us which ones you saw in the order you saw them, from left to right — that is how we write our language."
Lillieth studied the letters, her eyes dancing over them. "That one," she said, pointing. "That was the first one."
"This one?" said Henry, touching the wall.
Lillieth nodded.
"Write these down, Sergeant Spencer," said Henry. "I've a feeling this is important."
As Lillieth pointed out letters from the wall, Sergeant Spencer scribbled in his book. When Lillieth had indicated the fourth letter, Henry held out a hand. “That should be enough,” he said. “I think we know what vehicle you saw.”
“There were more symbols,” said Lillieth. “I remember them.”
“It will have been the telephone number,” said Henry. “And as there is only one such company which operates in our small town, I don’t think we need to trouble you any further, Lillieth. Your fin seems to be drying out. We should get you back into the ocean.”
With a gentle nod, Lillieth ran a long finger over her fin, a scattering of scales falling off as her nail dragged across the surface. “You are correct,” she said. “I have been out of water for too long.”
Henry nodded, the alphabet vanishing from the wall behind him. “Sergeant Spencer,” he said. “Timothy and I will transport Lillieth to the sea. You should follow up on our new lead.”
Sergeant Spencer slammed his book shut, and tucked it away in his pocket. “Right away,” he said.
“It was either dropping somebody off, or picking Albert up,” said Mill
ie, the leather of the chair feeling strange beneath her. It was only a chair, but it had been Albert’s chair. A murdered man’s chair. It felt disrespectful to be sitting in it. She stood up and took a seat next to Judith on the small sofa.
“Perhaps Albert did take flowers to Betty’s grave,” said Judith. “After Edna had come here to accuse him of being heartless. Maybe her words had an effect on him. He couldn’t have walked to the cemetery, so he would have needed a cab.”
“If he did,” said Sergeant Spencer, his head appearing at the top of the spiral staircase. “He didn’t use the local company.” He slid his phone into his breast pocket. “They have no record of a cab being sent here. Not on the day Albert was murdered. Not on any day, in fact. Albert has never used a taxi from Spellbinder Cabs, and no cab has ever brought anybody here, either.”
“Maybe Lillieth was wrong,” said Judith. “She’d been through a lot.”
“I find that hard to believe,” said Millie. “She was sure about the letters she pointed out, and they definitely spell the word taxi.”
Judith looked at her dad. “What do we do next? Get in touch with all the taxi companies in the county?"
"The owner of Spellbinder Cabs is going to ask around for me," said Sergeant Spencer. "He's friendly with all the other companies. He’ll get the information quicker than I can — a lot of the drivers are working illegally, they don't trust the police too much."
"Are you taking the threatening letter any more seriously?" said Millie, addressing the policeman. "Surely that's our best clue now?"
"I did what I said I’d do," said Sergeant Spencer. "I put out some feelers — I’ve been in touch with the Scottish Prison Service, and I'm still waiting to hear back from them. Even if they do manage to match a prisoner with the initials WM — the letter was written fifteen years ago. That’s a long time to hold a grudge — a lot of water has passed under a lot of bridges since then. I’m sceptical about the author of the letter being our murderer.”
"So there's nothing more we can do at the moment?" said Judith. She smiled at Millie. "How do feel about trying out some of your magic again? Lillieth left her magic dress with Henry, hoping you could fix it for her. Do you want to try?"
Millie looked at her new friend. Had she really meant what she’d thought in the dungeon beneath Spellbinder Hall, or was it one of those troublesome intrusive thoughts which haunted most people? The type of thoughts which crossed the mind, but never really stuck. Millie didn't know. What she did know was that Judith had been through a lot. A lot more than she had. She returned Judith’s smile. "Okay," she said. "Let's try."
Sergeant Spencer stood up. "I'll take you both to Spellbinder Hall to pick up the dress, and while I wait to hear from the taxi company and the Scottish Prison Service, I'll get on with trying to solve some of the less important cases in town, like finding out which kids have been spraying graffiti on the wall in the park."
As Millie stood up, a flash of colour on the top of the sideboard caught her eye. Looking out of place in the relative neatness of the room, Millie remembered she’d placed the stack of business cards there, while her and Judith had searched the room.
Wanting to keep the room as neat as Albert had, she reached for the pile, with the intention of placing them back in the drawer she’d taken them from.
As her fingers closed around the stack of cards, her stomach flipped. She looked at Sergeant Spencer. "You can phone the taxi company and tell them we don't need their help anymore," she said. She peeled the top card from the stack and passed it to the policeman.
"Well I never," said Sergeant Spencer, studying the card. "The rest of the writing Lillieth saw on the vehicle wasn't a phone number. It was the last letters of a word."
Judith peered at the card. "A taxidermy service!" she said. "And the card looks brand-new."
Millie smiled. "And the stuffed bear downstairs looks far from new. I think we’ve found our tradesman."
"Or our murderer," murmured Sergeant Spencer. He took his car keys from his pocket. “Lillieth’s dress can wait. We’ve got a more important trip to make.”
Chapter 23
The address on the business cards led them to an old part of town. Sergeant Spencer had explained that the crumbling quayside had once been a busy dockland, back in the day when Spellbinder Bay had been used as the port from which stone, mined from the surrounding hills, had begun its long journey around the globe.
With no signage on the old stone walls of the building, the little white van parked outside was the only giveaway that the premises contained a business. Sergeant Spencer parked the police car behind the van, and switched the engine off. "We assumed that Lillieth had seen a car outside the lighthouse," he said. "It was obviously this van."
"Taxidermy services," Millie said, reading the signage on the side of the van. "By Charles Bannister."
Sergeant Spencer opened his door. "Come on," he said. "Let's speak to Mister Bannister. Be careful, both of you. Stay behind me — we don't know what sort of man we’re dealing with."
"One who stuffs dead animals for a living," said Millie. "And one who possibly pushed a man to his death."
"Precisely," said Sergeant Spencer. "Let's be very cautious."
Built long ago, the building had seen better days. Grime on the windows prevented them from peering inside, so Sergeant Spencer tried the door, using a fist to hammer on it when it proved to be locked.
"Who is it?" came a man's voice, muffled by the thick wood of the door.
"It's the police!" shouted Sergeant Spencer. "Open the door please, Mister Bannister. I have some questions for you."
A few seconds passed before the door creaked open a few inches, and a man's face peered out at them from the gloom within. "The police?" he said, his voice as stern as his features. "And what, may I ask, would the police want with me?"
Sergeant Spencer placed his boot against the base of the door. "Let us in, please, Mister Bannister," he said.
With pursed lips and narrowed eyes, Charles Bannister relented, opening the door and stepping aside. "I suppose you'd better come in — all of you — including the two girls who like to pretend they’re police, but are in fact witches. I saw you all in Spellbinder Hall, while I was re-stuffing their poor owls."
The muscles in Sergeant Spencer's neck visibly tensed, and he reached for the nightstick hanging from his belt. "You're a member of the paranormal community?" he said.
Charles Bannister smiled, his teeth as white as his complexion. "That… weapon wouldn't help you if I did intend you harm," he said. "Your only hope would be the two witches you travel with, and I'm not sure what their magic could do against a vampire of my age and experience."
"You'd be surprised what two witches could do," said Judith.
A chill worked its way up Millie's spine. Maybe Judith was confident in her abilities, but Millie certainly wasn't in hers. She'd seen how strong George had been on the beach — she didn't hold out much hope that her and Judith would be able to take on an angry vampire.
Charles studied Judith for a moment or two. "Luckily for us all, there will be no need for any of us to prove our strength today." He gave a small bow. "Please, why don't you come in. Would any of you like a beverage? A cup of tea?"
Sergeant Spencer stepped inside, with Millie and Judith following him. "That won't be necessary, thank you," he said. "We’d just like you to answer a few questions."
Lit by a single ceiling light, the workshop made Millie uneasy. A single workbench took up space on the left of the room, and a large refrigeration unit hummed in the corner, no doubt containing the furry bodies of Charles Bannister's projects.
"I realise it's quite gloomy in here," said Charles, following Millie's gaze. "I've only recently got back to Spellbinder Bay. I haven't had time to set up properly." He unstacked three stools from a pile behind his workbench, offering them to his visitors.
"Back?" said Sergeant Spencer, wiping dust from his stool, and sitting down. "You've got back to Sp
ellbinder Bay?"
"Indeed," said Charles, using his handkerchief to wipe the dust from the stools he'd offered Millie and Judith. "I left over a hundred years ago, I thought it was about time I came back and refreshed my work. Free of charge, of course — I offer a very long guarantee on all the creatures I work on, and as with most of us in the paranormal community, money is not something I worry about."
Millie sat down, placing her feet on one of the stool’s cross pieces. "You stuffed animals in this town over a hundred years ago?" she said. "That's unbelievable."
Charles Bannister smiled, and began arranging the myriad of tools which scattered the surface of his bench. "In this very building," he said. "Of course, back then this room was full of my projects. As you can see, it’s quite empty now — employing taxidermists seems to have fallen out of fashion."
"It was you who originally stuffed the owls in Spellbinder Hall?" said Judith.
"Indeed, it was," said Charles. "And it seems I arrived back in town just in time. The poor creatures had begun to smell quite awful.” He dropped his head. “I’m ashamed to say that I wasn’t the most talented of taxidermists all those years ago. I was self taught, and quite shabby at performing the art. I failed to deodorise the carcasses to the extent I should have. I’m righting my wrongs now, though.”
"And the bear in the lighthouse?" said Sergeant Spencer. "Was it you who stuffed that?"
“A beautiful animal,” smiled Charles, his deep set eyes twinkling. "The lighthouse keeper all those years ago bought the dead animal from the captain of a ship which docked in the harbour. I was awarded the honour of giving the beast a new lease of life. I was surprised to find it still resided in the lighthouse after all this time. It must've been passed along with the lighthouse every time a new tenant took residence in the building."
"Albert asked you to re-stuff it for him?" said Millie.
"I asked Albert if I could re-stuff it," corrected Charles. "I visited the lighthouse, in the hope that the bear was still there. He wouldn't answer his door, he spoke to me from his window. I lied to him, telling him my grandfather had stuffed the bear, and if it was still there — I would like to re-stuff it for him. The fact that I offered my services for free, and the fact that he admitted the creature was emitting a foul stench, saw him take me up on my offer."