by Adele Abbott
What have I told you? I refer you once again to the entry in the dictionary for the word: Rhetorical.
Chapter 20
The next morning, Jack, Alicia and I were all in the kitchen.
“What would you like for breakfast, Alicia?” I took the packet of sausages from the fridge. “I’m going to have a sausage cob. Or I suppose you could always have some of Jack’s muesli.” I laughed.
“I’d love some muesli, thanks.”
I thought at first that she was joking, but then I realised she was being serious.
Another freak!
“There you go.” Jack passed Alicia a bowl of sawdust.
“I still can’t believe you’re going to Ivers’ shindig this morning,” he said.
“I hadn’t intended to until I discovered the local TV and radio were going to be there.”
“They’ll be there for Charlie what’s-his-name and his onions.”
“Barley, and it’s carrots, not onions.”
“They still won’t have any interest in you.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. I intend to get in a plug for my business if it kills me.”
After Jack had gone upstairs, Alicia said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Jill, but I’ll be glad to get out of here.”
“Grandma said the potion should be ready today, so with a bit of luck, you’ll be able to leave tonight.”
***
As I was going straight to the grand opening of Have Ivers Got Internet For You, I left the house much later than Jack. I was about to get into the car when I had a phone call from Daze.
“I hope I haven’t caught you still in bed.” I could hear the grin in her voice.
Why did people keep saying that? “I’ll have you know that I’ve been up for ages. How did you get on yesterday?”
“That’s why I called, actually. It was a complete bust.”
“Why, what went wrong?”
“We went to his apartment, but I knew as soon as he welcomed us inside that we were on a loser. The place was definitely clean. We turned it upside down, but there wasn’t a scrap of evidence to link him to the blood distribution network. He did have a few bottles of blood in his fridge, but it was only enough for his own consumption. We took a bottle away and tested it, just to be sure, but it wasn’t contaminated.”
“I guess that leaves you back at square one?”
“Worse than that. Now he knows we’re onto him, he’s unlikely to do anything incriminating until he believes things have died down.”
“I know it’s not the result you were hoping for, but at least it might stop the supply of contaminated blood.”
“I’d settle for that, but somehow I doubt it. My guess is he’ll still be able to orchestrate the operation.”
“What’s your plan, then?”
“I wish I had one. Short of a confession, there’s not much else we can do.”
“What’s this guy’s name?”
“Rory Storey.”
“I’ve got an idea that might just see Mr Storey brought to justice.”
I outlined my plan, and Daze gave it her blessing, so as soon as I’d finished on the call, I phoned my old friend Bob Bobb who agreed to see me later.
***
I had to hand it to Mr Ivers, he’d spared no expense on the grand opening of his new business. Not only had he engaged the ‘celebrity’ Charlie (where’s my carrot) Barley, he’d also booked a brass band who had set up on the pavement outside the shop. While they played some awful tune or other, a number of young men and women, dressed in yellow and orange blazers, moved among the crowd, handing out goodie-bags.
I’d badly misjudged how big a crowd the event would attract. Charlie Barley was obviously more popular than I’d thought. The free champagne must also have been an attraction. Speaking of which, I decided to claim my free glass of bubbly.
“I’ll have a glass, please.”
“Do you have your carrot?”
“Sorry?”
“Everyone who’s brought a carrot gets a free glass of champers.”
“I left my carrot in the car.”
“Sorry.”
“Couldn’t you make an exception? You seem to have plenty of bottles.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to those who did remember their carrot, would it?”
“Fine. I didn’t want one anyway.”
I spotted Mr Ivers; he was standing near to the shop entrance, but I wasn’t able to catch his eye because of the large number of people in front of me. There was zero chance of my being on TV and radio unless I could somehow make it to the front.
My attempts to barge my way through proved fruitless, so a different approach was called for. Making myself invisible wouldn’t have done any good because I’d still have the problem of having to force my way through to the front. I considered simply transporting myself to the door, but that was fraught with problems, so instead, I opted to shrink myself to the size of a small bug. I would have to be very careful as I weaved my way through the feet of the crowd. One wrong move and I’d be squashed. I’d also have to keep my eyes peeled for any hungry spiders.
Phew! I’d made it unscathed to the front, but I couldn’t reverse the spell just yet because there were way too many witnesses. Fortunately, the door behind Mr Ivers was ajar, so I made my way inside. Once I was at the back of the shop, and out of sight, I reverted to full size.
“Morning, Monty.”
Mr Ivers spun around and did a double take.
“Jill? Where did you come from?”
“You did say that I should arrive early. I was here before everyone else, and as the door was ajar, I took a quick look inside. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Err—no, of course not. I wasn’t sure you’d even bother coming.”
“What? I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
“Charlie Barley should be here any minute now.”
“What about the TV and radio people?”
“I’m expecting them soon.”
“Excellent. You won’t forget what we spoke about, will you? I’ll be glad to say a few words about your new venture.”
“Of course. I do appreciate you doing this, Jill.”
“Think nothing of it. That’s what neighbours are for.”
Ten minutes later, Carrot Man arrived, to much applause. He was a rather unremarkable man who looked more like a turnip than a carrot. The TV crew had also arrived, and I was close enough to them to hear the conversation between the director, Mr Ivers and Charlie Barley. The director had come up with the idea of staging a mini game of Where’s My Carrot, inside the shop. Mr Ivers seemed keen, and Charlie confirmed that he never went anywhere without his carrot or file of questions.
“We’ll do an interview with the winner,” the director said. “Monty, if you could pick out three contestants, we can get the ball rolling.”
“Will do!” Mr Ivers turned to the crowd.
“Monty!” I practically pushed the TV director out of the way. “Monty! I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure, Jill? I didn’t think you’d seen the programme?”
“Whatever gave you that idea? I love Where’s My Carrot. It’s the best thing on TV.”
“Well, if you’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He picked two other contestants from the crowd: an elderly woman and a schoolboy. The three of us went into the shop, accompanied by the film crew. The standard of my competition was laughable. I’d have this won in no time, and then it would be my big interview and a chance to plug my business.
Grandma eat your heart out—meet Jill Maxwell, marketing guru.
“Right,” Charlie Barley said, once the two other competitors and I were lined up inside the shop. “I assume you’re all familiar with the game format?”
The other two nodded. I was just about to say I’d never seen the show when I remembered I’d told Mr Ivers that it was my favourite programme, so I kept quiet.
Charlie continued,
“In the show, there would usually be several rounds, but today there will only be one. In fact, there’ll be just a single question—solve it and it will lead you to the carrot. Are you ready?”
The other competitors were straining at the bit, but I was more concerned about making sure the camera got my good side. It’s not like I had anything to worry about. How difficult could it be to outthink a slip of a kid and a sweet old dear?
“Here’s your clue.” Charlie handed us each a piece of paper.
Where a small rodent might hide.
What on earth did a rodent have to do with a carrot? Rabbits liked carrots, but I was fairly sure they weren’t rodents. This was more difficult than I’d expected, but I was still feeling confident.
“Found it!” The young boy held the carrot aloft.
“Well done, young man,” Charlie said. “You’re the winner.”
“Where was the carrot?” I asked Mr Ivers.
“Under one of the mouse mats.”
“What does a mouse have to do with a carrot?”
“The clue was: where a small rodent might hide.”
“That’s stupid.” I was disappointed at not having won, but the stupid carrot game wasn’t the reason I was there. “When will they want me to do my interview?”
“I don’t think they will. They’re only going to talk to the winner.”
“But he’s just a kid.”
“Sorry, Jill.”
So much for my chance to plug my business on TV. The crowd had made their way into the shop, so I sneaked away. It had been an unmitigated disaster, but at least no one except Mr Ivers had seen my miserable performance.
“Jill!” Grandma called to me, as I walked past Ever. “I have that potion for you.” She led the way to her office.
“Is that it?” I stared at the dark brown liquid in the small jam jar. “It looks horrible.”
“It smells even worse.”
“I guess it has to look and smell bad in order to work.”
“Actually, it doesn’t. It starts out as an odourless clear liquid. I add the colouring and smell for effect.” She unscrewed the lid, and the smell hit me.
“That’s awful.”
“I need you to cast this spell to give the potion enough strength.” She pointed to the spell book that was open on her desk.
I did as she asked, so that she’d hurry up and replace the lid.
“Thanks for this, Grandma.” I put the jar in my bag. “I’d better get going.”
“And thank you, Jill, for the entertainment.”
“Sorry?”
“I haven’t laughed so much in a long time.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be shy, little mouse.”
“You saw that?”
“I did, and I have to say it was hilarious, watching that young kid hand your backside to you.”
“I didn’t notice you down at the shop.”
“I wasn’t there. I watched it live on TV.”
“It went out live?”
“It most certainly did.”
Oh bum!
***
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you I’d be in late, Mrs V.”
“That’s alright, dear. I knew where you were.”
“You did? How?”
“Kathy rang to ask if I’d seen you on TV.”
“She saw it?”
“Yes, she said it was one of the funniest things she’s seen for ages.”
“It wasn’t all that funny.”
“I’ll be able to judge for myself when I get home tonight. I’ve asked Armi to record it for me.”
“Great.”
Winky was fast asleep on the sofa, or so I thought.
“Where’s my food?” he said.
“Give me a chance. I’ve only just walked through the door. I suppose you’ll be wanting salmon?”
“Actually, I quite fancy some carrots.” He dissolved into laughter and rolled off the sofa.
“How did you—never mind—I don’t want to know.”
“Beaten by a schoolkid. Clients will be queuing around the block to hire you now.”
“It was the pressure. I couldn’t think straight.”
Five minutes later, Winky was still chuckling to himself when my phone rang.
“Jill, it’s Jobbs. Do you know what I’ve just been looking at?”
“Let me guess. You’ve been watching early morning TV?” Was there anyone who hadn’t seen me making a fool of myself?
“What? No. I’ve been looking through Rob Evans’ phone records.”
“Anything interesting?”
“Potentially, yes. There’s a message from Sydney’s phone an hour after Evans left the pub.”
“When I spoke to Sydney, she maintained that she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him that day because she’d lost her phone. Do you know what the message said?”
“No. Just that there was a message.”
“I think I need to have another word with that young lady.”
“Would you like Hodd and me to accompany you? We can be very persuasive in getting people to talk.”
“Thanks for the offer, but that won’t be necessary.”
I’d thought at the time that something didn’t ring true about Sydney’s claim to have lost her phone. It was beginning to look like my gut feeling was right. What had she been trying to hide? What had been in that message to Rob Evans?
Chapter 21
I was going to see Bob Bobb, the bigxie I’d recently helped when he was having problems with a rogue trader who’d been poaching his customers. I was hoping that Bob would be able to help with our mission to put the blood distribution network out of business.
First, though, a coffee and muffin were the order of the day. Pearl and Mindy were both behind the counter in Cuppy C.
“My usual, please.”
“Sorry, Jill? What did you say?”
It was hardly surprising that Pearl couldn’t hear me because of all the banging coming from upstairs.
“What’s going on up there?” I shouted.
She shook her head to indicate she still couldn’t hear, but then gestured for me to follow her into the back where it was a little quieter.
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve got the builders in.”
“Already? You two don’t let the grass grow, do you?”
“You said yourself that the creche was a good idea, so there was no point in hanging around.”
“I suppose not. I’m just surprised you found someone who was able to start so quickly.”
“We hit lucky.” She pointed through the window to a white van parked in the alleyway.
“Cutt Corners?”
“Yeah, they’d had a cancellation, so they were able to start work straight away.”
“But that name? Didn’t that ring any alarm bells?”
“That’s their surnames, silly.” She laughed. “Roger Cutt and Colin Corners. They’re really nice guys.”
“And you checked their references I assume?”
“No one trusts references anymore; they’re so easily faked. Amber and I interviewed them, and we both agreed they seemed like genuine guys.”
The hammering stopped, and two men, both vampires, came down the stairs. Pearl made the introductions.
“Jill, this is Roger Cutt, and this is Colin Corners. Jill is our cousin.”
“Nice to meet you both,” I said.
“You too.” Roger brushed the dust off his overalls. “This is one of the best jobs we’ve ever had. Your cousins’ cakes are fantastic.”
“I was just remarking to Pearl that your company name is a bit unfortunate for a pair of builders.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” Colin said.
They both looked puzzled.
“You know: cut corners. No one wants their builder to do that.”
“It had never occurred to me,” Roger said.
“Me neither.” Colin shook hi
s head. “We could always make it Corners Cutt. Do you think that would be better?”
Oh boy!
After the two guys had gone through to the shop, Pearl turned on me. “There was no need to have a go at them, Jill.”
“I wasn’t. I was only pointing out that their choice of company name was unfortunate. I can’t believe they hadn’t worked that out for themselves before now. Anyway, how long is the work going to take?”
“A couple of weeks, they reckon. We can’t wait to open the creche.”
“Who’s going to look after the kids?”
“The parents will stay up there with their children, but we’re planning to hire someone to help out too. You wouldn’t be interested in the job, would you?”
“Me?”
“It’s okay, I’m only joking. I remember how traumatised you were after having to look after the babies for a day.”
It was true. When Aunt Lucy and the twins had gone down with sup flu, I’d been ‘volunteered’ to babysit Lil and Lily. Without a shadow of a doubt, that day had been harder work than any case I’d ever worked on.
***
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Jill.” Bob Bobb was sporting an argyle pattern jumper and plus-fours.
“I appreciate you seeing me at such short notice. I must say you’re looking particularly dapper today, Bob.”
“Thanks. I have a round of golf planned for later. Do you play?”
“Golf? Me? Not really my thing.”
“What’s your sport?”
“Jack occasionally drags me to the ten-pin bowling alley, but that’s about it.”
“You mentioned something about contaminated blood when we spoke on the phone?”
“That’s right. The rogue retrievers were recently successful in closing down a blood distribution network in Washbridge, but it’s resurfaced, and this time, they have precious little quality control. A number of vampires have already died after drinking the bad blood.”
“What exactly do you need from me?”