by Adele Abbott
“What?” I was only half listening because I was still worried about the witchfinder.
“Get this. According to this crazy woman, her husband is a wizard.”
Now, Jack had my full attention.
“A wizard?” I laughed.
“Yeah. A wizard. She reckons that some creatures, which she called retrievers, came from the supernatural world to take him back because he made the mistake of telling his wife that he was a wizard.”
“That all sounds a bit crazy to me.”
“Tell me about it. I had to take her statement. It took me all my time not to laugh out loud. And then she wanted to know what I was going to do about it. I’ll tell you what I’d like to do about it—file it in the waste paper bin. There’s no wonder her husband disappeared; he was probably glad to get away from that lunatic. Wizards? Whatever next?”
Chapter 10
I hadn’t slept well at all. I’d been listening in case I heard any noises inside the house. I was worried that the witchfinder might try to get in, and attack me during the night. So, when it was time to get up the next morning, I was completely shattered.
“Are you okay, Jill?” Jack said, when he came out of the shower.
“I didn’t sleep very well.”
“Nightmares again?”
“No. I just have a lot on my mind, at the moment.”
“You and I both need a proper holiday.”
“I’m too busy. I’ve got a full caseload at the moment.”
“You work too hard. We could both do with another break. I’d certainly like to get away from that crazy woman and her wizard husband.”
“I’ll have to see what I can do. Maybe in a few weeks’ time.”
Jack left the house before me. After he’d gone, I ate my breakfast in the lounge so that I could watch the house across the road. I’d considered telling Grandma about our new neighbour, but I wasn’t one-hundred percent certain he was the witchfinder yet.
Mrs Rollo called to me when I stepped out of the door.
“Jill, I’m sorry to bother you. I just wondered if you’d had any joy with the timeshare thing?”
“Sorry, Mrs Rollo. I haven’t had the chance to do much yet. I do know that the contact details on both the business card and leaflet are false, though. I promise I’ll get onto it in the next day or so, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thanks. I know you’re busy. I do appreciate your help.”
I took one last glance across the road, then I checked the back seat of the car—just in case. I really was getting paranoid now.
***
I’d just crossed the toll bridge when I heard a siren. In my rear-view mirror, I could see flashing lights. A police car was right behind me; the driver was gesturing for me to pull over.
I was doing nowhere near the speed limit. Maybe one of my brake lights was out.
“Jill, I’m sorry to pull you over like this.”
“Blaze? You scared me to death.”
“Sorry, but I needed to get hold of you, and I knew this was the route you took to work.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No. Daze is going to kill me.” He looked terrified.
“Why? What’s happened?”
“It’s my own stupidity. Just before she left, Daze arrested Slippery Sam.”
“Slippery who?”
“Sam. He’s a snake shifter who specialises in robbing banks. We’d been after him for months, and on the day before Daze left for her holiday, she caught him. We took him back to Candlefield, and put him into one of the holding cells. Daze asked me to process the paperwork so she wouldn’t miss her plane. Anyway, I totally forgot to put on the anti-shifter shackles. After I’d prepared the paperwork, and went back to the cell, it was empty. He’d turned into a snake, and made his escape. I’m sure he must be back here in Washbridge somewhere, but I’ve no idea where. If he’s still on the loose when Daze comes back, she’ll murder me.”
“Do you have any idea at all where he might be?”
“Not really. I was hoping that you might be able to help.”
“I’d love to, but I’m really busy just now.”
“Please, Jill. If I don’t find him, I think there’s a good chance that Daze will fire me.”
“Okay. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks, Jill. I really appreciate it.”
After I’d parked my car, I dropped into the same minimarket that I’d been in the day before. The woman at the checkout saw me, and shouted, “More salmon?”
“Not this time. There’s something else I’m after today.”
I told her what I was looking for, and she pointed me in the right direction.
Jules was behind her desk, and sitting next to her was Gilbert. I barely recognised him. The last time I’d seen him, his face had been covered in acne. The transformation was amazing. His face was now blemish free.
“It’s Gilbert, isn’t it?” I said.
“That’s me. I hope you don’t mind me visiting Jules for a few minutes.”
“Not at all.”
“Gilbert has a new job,” Jules said. “He’s working for ‘Magical Skin Care’. He’s part of their promotion team, aren’t you Gilbert?”
He nodded.
“Well, I have to say that the product seems to have worked wonders for you,” I said.
“Thanks.” He smiled. “It really is amazing. I’ve tried every skincare product on the market, and none of them worked, but within twenty-four hours of applying Magical Skin Care, my acne had disappeared completely.”
That all sounded way too good to be true.
“Where exactly does Magical Skin Care come from?” I asked.
“It’s from a company called The Candle Import Company. They’re a new operation, but based on the success of this product, I think they’ll get very big very quickly.”
Candle Import Company? Magical Skin Care? I was beginning to smell a rat. This had all the hallmarks of a magic potion. The question was, who had brought it from Candlefield to Washbridge?
When I walked into my office, Winky was on the windowsill, staring across the way. I hadn’t seen him do that for quite some time—not since Bella’s owners had moved out, and she’d been forced to relocate.
“What are you looking at, Winky?”
“A new feline has moved into Bella’s old apartment. And she’s smoking hot.”
“You shouldn’t even be looking. I thought you and Bella were ‘forever’?”
“You know what she’s like. She’s always going on at me to improve my image, and I refuse point-blank to take another deportment or elocution lesson. So, I fear she and I may be history.”
“Have you managed to make contact with this new cat, yet?”
“No. Bella must have left her flags behind because I’ve seen this new feline waving them around, but she obviously doesn’t know semaphore. She just seems to be waving them randomly.”
“That could make life difficult.”
“That’s why I got to thinking. Maybe you could take this over to her.”
He passed me a book.
“A Cats’ Guide to Semaphore?”
“Yes. If you could get that to her, then hopefully we’ll soon be able to communicate.”
I dropped the book onto my desk. “There’s something else we need to sort out first. I’ve looked over the partnership agreement that you gave me, and I’m happy to go ahead with it.”
His ears pricked up at that, and he jumped down from the windowsill, scurried across the floor, and leapt onto my desk.
“Very sensible.” He had a smug look on his face. “We both need to sign it, then.”
I took out a pen, scribbled my signature on the bottom, and then passed him the pen.
Just as I’d hoped, he signed without even giving it a second glance.
“Great,” he said. “Now what’s the first strategic issue you’d like me to work on?”
“Here, take this.” I pass
ed him the carrier bag.
“What’s this?”
“Look inside.”
“Cleaning materials?” He looked puzzled. “What are these for?”
“You’ll need those to clean this office from top to bottom.”
“Clean the office? Who do you think I am? I’m your partner—responsible for strategic planning, not the cleaner.”
“I think you’ll find you are.” I held up the sheet of paper he’d just signed. “Read this.”
He snatched it from my hand.
“What’s this? This isn’t the partnership agreement I drafted.”
“No. That’s an agreement which states that unless you clean this office once a week from top to bottom, you don’t get any salmon.”
He was stunned into silence for a few moments, but then found his voice. “You tricked me. You made me think I was signing the partnership agreement.”
“I did, didn’t I? That’ll teach you to hypnotise me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t give me that. Why else would I keep buying baskets full of salmon? You thought you had me under your control, didn’t you?”
“It’s your own fault. I only did it to prove to you that hypnosis works.”
“And, I’m happy to admit you were right. Tell me, how does it feel to be right, Winky?”
Snigger.
***
I’d put it off as long as I could, but I owed it to myself to at least give I-Sweat a chance. The free passes, which they’d given to Mrs V, Jules and me, only lasted for one month. Both Jules and Mrs V were taking full advantage of their passes. Thankfully, Mrs V had now worked out how to operate the treadmills, which meant that she could get on and off when she wanted to, rather than being stranded on there for hours at a time. Jules usually went around there during her lunch hour, and she was looking much better for it. I’d recently treated myself to a new leotard. The old one had been looking a little the worse for wear, and was rather a tight fit—it had obviously shrunk.
The receptionist at I-Sweat wore a badge with the name ‘Goldie’ on it. She greeted me with a sunny smile.
“Good morning, madam. Welcome to I-Sweat.”
“Morning. I have a free pass.”
She glanced at it. “Oh yes. You’re entitled to use all the facilities with this. If you’d like to get changed, I’ll get one of our instructors to take you through your initial session.”
When I came out of the changing room, Brent was waiting for me.
“Jill? I was beginning to think that we were never going to see you.”
“I’ve been rather busy.”
“Not to worry. You’re here now. I’m going to assign you to Gavin. He’s our newest instructor, and very good he is too. Just hold on there a moment, will you?”
The man who returned with Brent was dressed all in white: T-shirt, shorts, socks and trainers. He had it all: a great physique, good looking, and long black hair that most women would have killed for.
“Jill, this is Gavin.” Brent made the introductions.
Gavin stepped forward and offered his hand. He had a very firm grip.
“Nice to meet you, Jill.” He had the sexiest voice ever. He could have made a fortune doing voice-overs.
“Nice to meet you too,” I whimpered.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Brent said.
“How long is it since you last did any exercise?” Gavin asked.
“It must be several weeks.” Years more like.
“Not to worry. We’ll soon have you back to peak fitness. First things first, though. I need to take you through a quick questionnaire to assess your current level of fitness, and to get an idea of your diet, etc. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Whatever you say, Gavin.”
What? Who are you calling a sycophant? I was only trying to be helpful to the young man.
An hour later, I hobbled out of I-Sweat, along the corridor, and back to my office.
“Jill?” Jules came around the desk, and took my hand. “Are you okay?”
“Just about.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve just had my first free session at I-Sweat. I didn’t realise how hard it would be. Still, I did have a really good looking instructor to help me. His name is Gavin. Have you met him?”
“No, but then Brent did say that he had a new instructor starting this week, so perhaps that’s him.”
“Gavin said he’d be overseeing my training during the free trial period, so I guess I’ll be seeing him again. If I ever recover.”
Chapter 11
I had to try to find out who had conned Mrs Rollo out of her savings. Conmen like that were the scum of the earth. First port of call was my trusty friend, Google. I searched using the search terms: Washbridge, timeshare and scam, but that returned too many results, so I limited the search to the last three months. That gave me a much more manageable number of results to check. One thing I noticed immediately was that two of them were from the same website. I clicked on the first one, and it took me to a forum called Merry Widows of Washbridge.
It was a surprisingly active forum, with different sections for all manner of interests including: cooking, holidays and grandchildren. The two messages that had been returned by Google were both in the ‘holidays’ section. Both posts detailed similar scenarios to that described by Mrs Rollo. In both instances, they had been approached by someone at the door, who had persuaded them to hand over money for a timeshare at a price that was totally unrealistic. There were several replies within those threads, mostly from people commiserating with the two women who’d lost their money. A few heartless individuals had lambasted the women for being silly in handing over their money. I was sure both women already felt bad enough without such unhelpful, unfeeling responses. It became obvious that neither woman had managed to track down the perpetrator of this dastardly crime. Nor had they managed to retrieve their cash.
In order to send a message to the two women, I first had to register for the forum, which asked for various pieces of information including: name, address, and date of birth. The instructions made a point of saying that all information provided would be held securely, and not made available to other users of the website. The only information which was mandatory was a valid email address, so I left the rest blank. I chose the screen name ‘Custard Cream Boat’. Once my registration was complete, it was a simple process to send a private message to the two women, asking them to contact me. All I could do now was wait to see if I got any replies.
***
Winky had spent the last hour cleaning the office from top to bottom. And to be fair, he’d done an excellent job. He’d proven to be something of a whiz with a feather duster, and the sight of him riding on the vacuum cleaner had been something to behold.
“There’s still a little dust on the windowsill.” I pointed.
“No there isn’t.” He ran his paw across the surface. “This office is spotless.”
“I’m only joking.” I grinned. “You’ve done a very good job. You can have salmon on a couple of days next week.”
“I should think so too.” He walked over to the sofa, picked up his book on hypnosis, and dropped it into the waste paper bin. “Good riddance.”
“I hope that will teach you not to try to get one over on me. You should know you can’t outsmart me.”
“I may have lost the battle.” He jumped onto the sofa, clearly exhausted. “But I’ll win the war.”
Call me a big softy, but I felt a little guilty at having made him work so hard, so I decided to offer an olive branch.
“Winky!”
“What?” He opened his eyes. “I was almost asleep.”
“Just to show there’s no ill feeling, I’ll take your semaphore book across the road to your new feline friend.”
That made him sit up. “Thanks, Jill. You’re not so bad after all.”
I made my way over to the building where Bella had once lived. Only when I was standing outside the door of Bonnie an
d Clive’s former apartment, did it occur to me that I hadn’t thought this through properly. How exactly was I meant to deliver the book to Winky’s new feline friend? I could hardly knock on the door, and tell the new residents that I had a book for their cat. I’d made a similar mistake once before when I’d tried to deliver flowers to Bella.
Fortunately, I spotted a cat flap in the front door of their apartment. They must have had it fitted recently because it hadn’t been there when last I’d called. Result! I took the book out of my bag, and posted it through the flap.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The stern voice came from behind me.
I got to my feet to find a security man standing there. He was looking at me more than a little suspiciously. “Were you trying to get through that flap?”
“Of course not. How could I fit through there?”
“What were you doing, then?”
“I’ve just posted a book through the cat flap.”
“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”
“I borrowed it from the people who live here, and I was just returning it.”
“Why didn’t you just knock on the door, and give it to them?”
That was a very good question. Before I had the chance to come up with an answer, the security man had knocked on the door.
“There’s no need to disturb them,” I said.
“You stay right there. Let’s see what they have to say about this.”
A few moments later, the door opened, and a middle-aged man smoking a pipe, appeared in the doorway. “Yes? Can I help you?”
The security man stepped forward. “This young lady says that she’s just posted a book through your cat flap. Can you confirm whether or not that’s true?”
“The man with the pipe bent down, and retrieved the book. “It appears she’s telling the truth.” He studied it. “A Cats’ Guide to Semaphore?”
“Is that your book?” The security guard asked the man.
“No. I’ve never seen it before.”
Both men looked to me for an explanation.
“It belonged to the people who lived here before you. They lent it to me, but I don’t have their new address.”