by Adele Abbott
The ceremony itself was something of a blur. Both Nails and Deli had written their own vows, and to say they were nonsensical would have been an understatement. There was even mention of a dress allowance and cigarette money.
When the ceremony was finally over, we all made our way into the gardens at the rear of the building. The borders were resplendent with flowers, but no amount of flowers could salvage this train wreck of a wedding.
Jack and I found a quiet spot in one corner of the garden, but we still got dragged into a few group photos. I noticed some of the guests do a double take when they saw Jack. They were probably trying to recall where they knew him from. Hopefully they wouldn’t remember it was when he had handcuffed them.
Eventually all the photographs had been taken, and we all made our way to the front of the building where a double-decker bus was waiting for us. Nails had hired it to take everyone to the reception, which was being held in a pub a couple of miles down the road. Jack and I sat downstairs at the very front. I figured that would give us the best chance of a quick escape if the assembled crowd remembered how they knew Jack.
The bus pulled up outside a pub called ‘Rough and Ready’; a very apt name, if ever there was one. Mad led the way inside. If I’d thought it looked bad from the outside that was nothing to the delights awaiting us inside. It was a real ‘spit and sawdust’ establishment, which hadn’t seen a lick of paint since the turn-of-the-century. The nineteenth century.
The lighting wasn’t so much subdued as broken. Every other bulb was either blown or missing. At least that meant we couldn’t see the carpet which was so sticky that it felt like it was trying to suck us under. There were all manner of stains on the walls and furniture—I really did not want to know what they were.
“Help yourself to food, everyone!” Deli was standing arm in arm with her new husband, who was busy picking at a hangnail.
Four large tables had been pushed together to accommodate the food. And a motley spread it was too. There were chips, and sausages, and more chips, and pickled eggs, and more chips, and sandwiches made on bread so thick it would have broken your toe if you’d dropped it. And did I mention beer? There was lots of that, too.
But not for very long.
The bikers, mods and teddy boys alike, descended on the spread, like wolves on a carcass. Within minutes, every plate and dish had been stripped bare, and there wasn’t a bottle of beer to be had.
“Good thing we weren’t hungry,” Jack quipped.
Once the tables had been cleared away, the music started up. It was an eclectic mix of heavy metal, rock and roll and punk—all of it pre-1980. The guests, all now well lubricated, descended on the space where the tables had been. There was barely enough room to accommodate all the dancers (and I use that term very loosely). Every now and then, a scuffle would break out between the different factions: teddy boys, mods and bikers.
Thankfully, Jack and I managed to find a relatively quiet corner where we could at least hear ourselves think, if not speak. The next two hours lasted an eternity. Then, for a moment, I thought I’d gone deaf, but realised that the music had been turned off to enable Nails to announce that he and his new bride were leaving to go on honeymoon to an undisclosed destination on the south coast. Everyone came out of the pub to bid them farewell as they rode away on a huge chopper-style motorbike. Deli was up front; Nails was riding pillion.
Once they’d disappeared into the distance, everyone else piled back into the pub, but I grabbed Jack’s arm, and pulled him back.
“I can’t stand another minute. Let’s go home.”
“But no one else has left yet. Won’t it look rude?”
“Who cares?”
“What about Mad?”
“I haven’t seen anything of the canary since we came to the pub. I reckon she’s already made her getaway. Come on, we’re going.” I hailed a cab.
It was so good to get back home. Jack made coffee, and we both collapsed onto the sofa.
“Well.” Jack took a sip of his coffee. “That was certainly different.”
“I did try to warn you.” I sighed. “No more weddings for me.”
“Are you sure about that? Not even one more?”
Chapter 16
I’d spoken to Lily Padd who, like Mrs Rollo, had had her savings snatched by the scam artist who was peddling non-existent timeshare holidays. The other woman that I’d tried to contact via the Merry Widows forum had never got back to me. So far, I was no nearer to tracking the conman down. Sometimes, though, I was guilty of not being able to see the wood for the trees, and maybe this was one of those times. There was something I needed to check with Mrs Rollo, so I called at her house on my way out to work.
“Jill? Good morning. Aren’t you at work today?”
“Yes, I’m on my way there now, but I wondered if I could have a quick word with you, first?”
“Of course. Do come in.”
“I can only stay for a moment.”
“Long enough to pick out a bun to take to work with you, surely?”
Oh, dear.
I followed her into the kitchen.
“I suppose you heard I was eliminated from the Big Bake Challenge?”
“I had no idea.”
Mrs Rollo had got through the first round of the Big Bake Challenge courtesy of a little magic provided by yours truly.
“I didn’t realise that they’d recorded the second round.”
“It was last week. I would have asked you to come along, but my cousins were desperate for tickets. I hope you don’t mind?”
Mind? I couldn’t have been any more relieved.
“Not at all. How did it go?”
“Not very well, unfortunately. In fact, I came last. I think I must have misjudged the ingredients. It was a bit of a disaster.”
“I must say, Mrs Rollo. You seem to be taking it very well?”
“There aren’t many people who get invited to take part in that competition, and fewer still who get through the first round. So, all in all, I’m proud of what I achieved.”
“And so you should be. What did your cousins make of it?”
“They still enjoyed themselves even though I didn’t do very well on the night. Now, Jill, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Have you by any chance ever posted on a forum called the Merry Widows of Washbridge?”
“Yes, I have. I don’t really go in for the internet, but one of my friends introduced me to the Merry Widows forum, and I do go on there from time to time.”
“Do you mind if I ask what name you post under?”
“Master Baker.”
Of course she did.
“Tell me, did you post about the conman?”
“No. I was too embarrassed. Why are you interested in the Merry Widows forum, Jill?”
“Just a hunch that I’m working on. It may turn out to be nothing.”
“I see.” She pointed at the table which was full of buns, or at least I think that’s what they were meant to be. If ever someone needed to reimagine baking, it was Mrs Rollo. “Which one would you like to take with you?”
It was a difficult choice. Not because they were all so appetising, but because I had zero idea what any of them was. In the end, I chose a pink one. Surely, that had to be strawberry?
“Good choice, Jill. I call that one lemon surprise.”
***
I’d arranged to meet with the NOCA committee at Chuckle House to give them feedback on my investigation to date—such as it was. The day of the clown convention was looming, and a decision had to be made as to whether to go ahead with it or not. In attendance, as per the previous meeting, were: Andrew Clowne, Don Keigh, and Ray Carter.
Andrew Clowne chaired the meeting. “I think we should begin by asking Jill what progress she’s made in finding the would-be extortionist.”
All eyes were now on me.
“I’m afraid I haven’t made much headway. I’ve been unable to identify who is behind t
he threat.”
“That’s very disappointing,” Andrew Clowne said. “I had hoped that the perpetrator would have been in custody by now. But, as that’s not the case, then regrettably I must change my position in regard to the upcoming conference.”
“Change your position how?” Ray Carter asked.
“As you know, I wasn’t in favour of paying the extortion demand, but now I don’t see that we have any choice if we still plan to go ahead with the conference.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Don Keigh thumped the table. “Why should we pay? I’m still convinced this whole thing is a hoax.”
“I don’t agree with paying either,” Ray Carter said. “I’m still of the opinion that we should bring in the police.”
“Do you two really want to take the risk of this blowing up in our faces?” Andrew Clowne looked from one man to the other. “If we don’t pay, and this man carries out his threats, how do you think that will make us look?”
“Just a second,” I interrupted. “I think paying the money would be a mistake. Like Don, I too believe that this is little more than a hoax.”
“What about the two murders?” Andrew Clowne turned his gaze on me.
“I’ve spoken to a number of people concerning the two deaths referred to in the extortion letter, and I’m now convinced that neither of those was murder. It’s clear to me that they were in fact both the result of tragic accidents, which could have been avoided. I don’t believe the person who wrote the letter had anything to do with those deaths at all. It’s my opinion that he’s simply trying to scare you into giving in to his demands.”
“So what are you saying, Jill?” Don Keigh said. “Do you think we’re okay to go ahead with the conference?”
“I do. I would recommend proceeding with the conference as planned.”
There was further discussion during which Andrew Clowne continued to push for the payment to be made. When it came to the vote, the committee voted two-to-one to proceed with the conference, but not to make any payment to the extortionist. Andrew Clowne was clearly unhappy with the result, which was a little surprising because when he’d first come to my office, he’d been totally against making a payment to the extortionist.
***
As I made my way back to the office, I was forced to make a detour because Lombard Road had been cordoned off. The police were stopping anyone driving or even walking down the street.
When I eventually arrived at the office, Mrs V was at her desk, talking to Gavin, the instructor from I-Sweat.
“Hello, you two.”
“Morning, Jill,” Mrs V said. “I’ve been for another session next door. Gavin thinks I’m improving, don’t you Gavin?”
“Definitely, Mrs V. You put a lot of women half your age to shame.”
Mrs V beamed.
“Anyway, I’d better get back.” Gavin started for the door. “I hope we’ll see you around there again soon, Jill.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“What a nice young man,” Mrs V said, after he had left.
“Very good looking too.”
“Jill!”
“What? I’m only saying. Anyway, do you know what’s going on with the police roadblocks in town?”
“There’s been a bank robbery. Haven’t you heard?”
“I’ve been in a meeting; I haven’t heard the news this morning.”
I went through to my office where Winky was sitting cross-legged on the sofa. His eyes were shut, and he was chanting quietly. I knew I was going to regret asking, but curiosity got the better of me.
“What are you doing, Winky?”
“Do you mind? I’m trying to meditate.”
“Since when did you meditate?”
“Since I rejected this material world in favour of a more spiritual existence.”
“Really? This was all kind of sudden, wasn’t it?”
“Inner peace is more important to me now than possessions or relationships.”
“I see. And how long do you think this will last?”
“This is now my life’s focus.”
“Okay. Well, good luck with that.”
He went back to his chanting.
I brought up the local news on my web browser. As expected, the headline story was the robbery of Washbridge Central Bank. I made a call.
“Blaze, I assume you’ve seen the news?”
“Yeah. It has all the hallmarks of Slippery Sam. I’m as good as dead. Daze will kill me when she gets back.”
“Maybe you’ll find him before she does.”
“I doubt it. He’ll be long gone by now.”
I felt sorry for Blaze. He’d been so looking forward to having more responsibility while Daze was away, but it had all gone pear-shaped for him.
***
“Do you have to make that noise all the time?” I said.
“Please don’t refer to it as noise.” Winky gave me a one-eyed look. “It’s my mantra, and yes, I do have to chant it all the time. How else will I find inner peace?”
“Could you at least chant a little more quietly? I’m trying to pick out a new pair of shoes here.”
There was a sale on at Vintage-Shoes-4-U, and I couldn’t decide which of two pairs I liked best.
“You spend too much time worrying about materialistic things, Jill. It’s time you began to think more about your spiritual well-being, and became one with the universe.”
Just then, something caught my eye across the way.
“So let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re no longer interested in possessions or relationships? Is that right?”
“Precisely.”
“In that case, you won’t care that the cat who has moved in across the way appears to have mastered semaphore?”
Winky stopped chanting, jumped into the windowsill, grabbed his little flags, and began to wave them frantically. While Winky was busy conversing via semaphore with his new girlfriend, I logged onto the Merry Widows forum, and searched for posts by ‘Master Baker’. There were quite a few, but the one that caught my eye had been posted in the ‘holidays’ section. Master Baker, a.k.a. Mrs Rollo, had posted at length about her love of holidays, and her desire to holiday with her children and grandchildren. The post was dated only a few days prior to the conman appearing at her door.
It now seemed obvious that the conman had targeted his victims based upon posts they had made on that forum. If my suspicions were correct, perhaps I could ensnare him by posting a similar message. But first, I needed to add a postal address to my profile. I entered Kathy’s address because, if my suspicions were correct, the conman was hardly likely to target a house next door to one he’d already scammed. I’d just have to make sure that I warned Kathy about what I’d done in case anyone contacted her. I then made a post in the holidays section in which I mentioned my love of holidays, particularly in Spain. I also mentioned how much I loved to holiday with my kids and grandkids. Hopefully, that would be bait enough to attract our friend, the conman. We’d see.
***
Winky was busy with the semaphore for almost an hour. When he finally put down the little flags, and jumped out of the windowsill, he looked exceedingly pleased with himself.
“What’s your new girlfriend’s name?”
“Peggy.” He jumped onto my desk. “She’s a real little hottie.”
“I despair of you sometimes.”
“She is hot. And, she’s obviously taken a shine to me. She spent all day and night learning semaphore just so we could communicate.”
“Where does this leave Bella?”
“Who?” Winky shrugged. “She’s history now—her and her deportment classes. Peggy says that I’m the most handsome cat she’s seen since she moved into the neighbourhood.”
“I take it she’s a house cat then?”
“Cheek!”
“What about the meditation, the chanting, and the renouncement of material goods and relationships? What about being one with the universe?”
> “Stuff the universe. I’m so over that.”
So fickle.
Chapter 17
Jack pulled onto the drive just ahead of me. As I got out of my car, I saw Megan come out of her front door. Oh no! This could be very awkward.
“Hi!” Jack called to her. “I see you have new artwork on your van.”
“Yes.” Megan glared at me. “I had to get it re-done.”
Instead of the large image of herself, the van now displayed a picture of a lawn with flowered borders.
“I like it.” Jack nodded his approval. “What do you think, Jill?”
Megan was still glaring at me.
“I think it’s really nice.” Any moment now, Megan would tell Jack why she’d been forced to make the change. “Come on, Jack.” I grabbed his arm. “We’d better get in. I’m sure Megan’s very busy.”
Before he had the chance to argue, I’d dragged him inside.
“What’s up?” He looked nonplussed.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you and Megan fallen out?”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“The way she was glaring at you out there. If looks could kill, you’d be a goner.”
“I don’t know what you mean. She seemed okay to me.”
“So why did you drag me inside?”
“Because I had other plans.” I grabbed his hand, and led him up the stairs. “Come with me.”
That brought a smile to his face.
The sacrifices I had to make.
Later, much later, when we were eating dinner, I was still wondering how I could put things right with Megan. At least she hadn’t said anything to Jack—not yet. What would he think if she did? That he was living with a mad woman? Probably.
“Jill? Did you hear what I said?” Jack nudged me.