Witch Is How Berries Tasted Good

by Adele Abbott

  I’d been monitoring one particular pint glass for some time. It was still half full but had been abandoned for the best part of an hour, so I was satisfied that its owner must have left. There was just about room on my tray to fit it on.

  “Jill!” The voice, which came from right behind me, made me jump. I stumbled over the table, sending the tray flying through the air. I watched, in what felt like slow motion, as the glass emptied its contents onto the lap of a woman dressed in a beautiful ball gown.

  “Sorry!” I tried to wipe her dress with a cloth.

  “Stop!” She stood up. “You’re just making it worse. Where’s the manager? I want to speak to the manager.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was in the small office behind the bar.

  “I’m really sorry, Noah.”

  “It’s alright. I’ve given her a voucher for a free weekend break at any of the hotels in our group. That seemed to placate her.”

  Just then, Jordan came into the room. “I’m sorry I made you jump, Jill. I was just trying to tell you about a guy wearing a spotted dickie bow. He’s been acting funny.”

  “Is he still here?”

  “He isn’t the pickpocket,” Noah interrupted. “He’s the regional manager. He dropped in unannounced to do a spot inspection. Needless to say, I’ll have quite a bit of explaining to do.”

  “Sorry, boss.” Jordan bowed his head.

  “It’s okay. You can leave us to it now.”

  “Bye then, Jill.”

  “Bye, Jordan.” I turned to Noah. “Do you want me to get back out there?”

  “I don’t think there’s any point tonight. Not after what happened.”

  “Shall I come back again tomorrow?”

  “Let’s leave it for now. No thefts have been reported tonight, so maybe the pickpocket has moved on. I’ll only be in touch if any more incidents are reported.”

  “Fair enough. And, by the way, I won’t be charging you for tonight under the circumstances.”

  Much to my dismay, he didn’t argue.

  Chapter 17

  “How did it go at the hotel last night?” Jack had managed to tear himself away from TenPin TV long enough to join me for breakfast.

  “It was a total waste of time. I didn’t see any sign of the pickpocket.”

  “I hope you weren’t drunk on duty.” He grinned.

  “Chance would have been a fine thing. They had me working as a member of staff.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Collecting glasses.”

  “Oh dear.” He laughed.

  “What do you mean: oh dear?”

  “Why do you think I always volunteer to carry drinks around the house? You’re a liability when you have to carry more than one cup at a time.”

  “I think you’re mixing me up with Jules.”

  “It went okay last night then, did it? No accidents?”

  “No, well—err—”

  “I knew it.”

  “It wasn’t my fault. Jordan crept up behind me and made me jump.”

  “Who’s Jordan?”

  “The young guy I was working with.”

  “How many glasses did you break?”

  “None. It’s carpeted in there.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “Not really. One of the pint glasses was half full, and it landed in someone’s lap. She wasn’t best pleased.”

  “Priceless.” He could barely speak for laughing.

  “It isn’t funny, Jack. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know where to put myself.”

  “At least you were getting paid for your embarrassment.”

  “Actually, I’m not. The manager had to give the guest a voucher for a free-break, so I felt like I should offer to forego my fee for the night. I thought he might decline, but—” Jack was in hysterics now. “It isn’t funny!”

  “Sorry, you’re right. I just have this image of you depositing half a pint of beer in someone’s lap.”

  “I’m glad you find it so amusing. Let’s see if you’re still laughing tonight.”

  “Why? What’s happening tonight?”

  “Have you forgotten that they’re delivering the new bed today?”

  “Of course not.” He grinned. “We’ll be able to give it a thorough test tonight.”

  “In your dreams, laughing boy.”

  ***

  On my way into the office, I phoned Mimage to arrange an interview for a job as a mirror image. The woman on the phone told me they’d been inundated with applications, but that I’d secured one of the last slots available that afternoon.

  Mrs V was at her desk; she seemed to be shuffling about on her chair.

  “Are you okay, Mrs V? Are you in pain?”

  “Of course not, dear. I’m practising with the pedal thingies, but I keep getting them mixed up. Remind me again, is it the one on the left that makes you go faster?”

  “No, that’s the brake. The one on the right is the accelerator.”

  “It’s all very confusing. Why don’t they place them in alphabetical order? ‘A’ for accelerator, and ‘B’ for brake—then everyone would remember.”

  “You should write in and suggest it.”

  “There’s no call for sarcasm, Jill.”

  “Sorry.” I stooped down to get a better look under the desk. “Where did you get those pedals from? You haven’t stolen them from Armi’s car, have you?”

  “Of course not. They’re from a couple of my old sewing machines that were gathering dust in the garage.”

  “I’m glad to see that you’re looking a little brighter today.”

  “I’m just pleased the funeral is behind me. Poor Patricia never should have gone into that care home. I’m sure that’s what did for her.”

  “You don’t happen to know the name of the care home where she died, do you?”

  “It was Lakeview.”

  “Oh?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing. I’m working on a missing person case at the moment; the young woman in question worked at Lakeview. I spoke to one of her colleagues yesterday, and she had some scary things to say about that place.”

  “What kind of scary things?”

  “According to her, the mortality rates have increased dramatically since the new owners took over.”

  “Do you suspect foul play is involved?”

  “It’s too early to draw any conclusions. It’s quite possible that the person I spoke to is simply unhappy because of the change of ownership. Could you do some research for me, and see what you can dig up on the new owners of Lakeview?”

  “I’ll get straight onto it.”

  “Look out!” Winky screamed at me; he was standing on the sofa.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s a giant spider. It’s the size of a rat.”

  “No, you don’t.” I scoffed. “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, never going to happen. Do you honestly think I’ve forgotten about the ‘Bob’ incident?”

  He’d once conned me into believing that I’d inadvertently killed his best friend, Bob the spider. I’d felt so bad about it that I’d given Winky extra salmon. Then I’d discovered that Bob was in fact just a toy spider.

  “I’m not trying to scam you this time. This spider is real. There it is! Look!”

  An enormous spider scuttled across the room, and there was no doubt in my mind that this one was real. “Make way!” I leapt onto the sofa next to Winky.

  “What did I tell you?” he said, without once taking his eye off the spider.

  “It’s a beast. Where did it come from?”

  “I don’t know. It was there when I woke up this morning. I haven’t dared get down from here since. I’m starving and bursting for a—”

  “Try not to think about it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  Five minutes later, we were both still watching the scary beast, as it ran back and forth across the floor.

  “Jill, did you want a
cup of tea?” Mrs V came into my office.

  “Be careful, Mrs V!” I yelled.

  “Whatever is the matter? Why are you standing on there?”

  “There’s a giant—” Just then, the spider came out from under my desk. “There! Look!”

  Totally unfazed, she picked it up and threw it out of the open window. “I didn’t know you were afraid of spiders, Jill.”

  “I’m not. Of course I’m not.” I jumped down from the sofa. “It’s just that I could see Winky was terrified, so I got up there to keep him calm.”

  What? Of course I wasn’t scared. Don’t be ridiculous.

  ***

  Something was still niggling me about Annette’s ex-boyfriend, Craig Byfleet. I couldn’t shake the idea that he knew more than he’d admitted.

  Another visit was called for.

  I’d just left the office when I got a phone call from Noah Way.

  “Jill, there were more thefts from customers in the bar last night.”

  “I thought you said that no one had reported any thefts?”

  “They hadn’t when you left, but later on, a man came to see me because his wallet had disappeared. Then, this morning, another customer reported his wallet had gone too. He hadn’t noticed it was missing last night.”

  “I don’t get it. I didn’t spot anyone acting the least bit suspiciously. Would you like me to have another stab at it tonight?”

  “Yes, please, but I don’t think you should collect glasses.”

  “No arguments from me there. Why don’t I just pretend to be a customer? I’ll make sure I cover all of the room.”

  “Okay.”

  “Same time as last night?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.”

  Maybe this would give me an opportunity to redeem myself for the fiasco of the previous night.

  ***

  I was on my way to see Craig Byfleet, and had just stepped out of the lift when, across the landing, he appeared in the doorway of his flat. I was just about to call his name when I realised there was someone by his side: A young woman. Probably one of his flatmates.

  Except that he was kissing her.

  It was always possible that he was in a relationship with one of his flatmates, but that niggling voice in my head told me otherwise.

  Instead of intercepting him, I hid behind a pillar. When he was in the lift, I went over to the flat and knocked on the door.

  “Did you forget—?” The woman stopped midsentence when she saw me standing there.

  “Hello, Annette.”

  All of the colour drained from her face. “There’s no one here by that name.”

  She tried to close the door, but I’d already wedged my foot in the gap.

  “There’s nothing to be scared of. I promise I won’t tell your parents where you are if you don’t want me to. I just need to satisfy myself that you’re okay, and that you’re not being held against your will.”

  She hesitated, but eventually stepped aside and let me in.

  “Craig won’t get into trouble, will he?” she said, once we were seated in the large living area.

  “Not unless he is holding you here against your will.”

  “Of course he isn’t.”

  “Your parents are beside themselves with worry.”

  “Why? I left them a note to explain why I’d left.”

  “They don’t believe you would have upped and left like that—note or no note. And to be fair, they’re right, aren’t they? Why are you hiding here?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Rita said she thought it might have something to do with the new owners at Lakeview.”

  “You’ve spoken to Rita?”

  “Yes, she seems to be afraid of something. Are you?”

  She broke down in tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

  It took a while for her to compose herself, but eventually she managed to tell her story.

  “I love that job. Absolutely love it. The residents are all fantastic, but then they took over. SobersCare? That’s a laugh. They don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “Rita said there’d been an increase in the number of deaths since they took over? Have they made cutbacks or something?”

  “If it was just that, I might be able to live with it. It’s much worse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re killing people.”

  “That’s a very serious accusation. I thought every death had to be certified by an external doctor?”

  “It does, but the owners are clever. They make sure there’s no evidence.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did.”

  “Have you reported this to anyone?”

  “I thought about going to the police, but I knew they’d take one look at the doctor’s records, and dismiss me out of hand. That’s why I took it to the press.”

  “I’m back!” The door opened, and in walked Craig, shopping bag in hand. “What’s she doing here?”

  “It’s okay,” Annette said. “I’m telling her about Lakeview.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes, I have to talk to someone.”

  “You mentioned the press,” I said. “Which newspaper did you go to?”

  “I didn’t. I’d read an article written by a freelance reporter who specialised in uncovering corruption. I contacted her directly.”

  “Her name wasn’t Donna Lewis by any chance, was it?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Someone asked me to investigate her death.”

  “That was no accident!” Annette said. “She was murdered.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “I am. Donna managed to get a job working at Lakeview. Not under her real name, obviously. The last time I spoke to her, she told me she knew what was going on.”

  “Did she say what?”

  “No. We were going to meet up, outside of work, but she died that same night.”

  “And that’s why you went into hiding?”

  “They must have discovered she was a reporter. I was terrified they might know that I was the one who had contacted her. You won’t tell anyone I’m here, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Not even my parents?”

  “No one, I promise.”

  “What about Lakeview? Can you do anything about what’s going on there?”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully.”

  “I know something that might help you. Just before I left, another one of my ladies—that’s what I used to call them—almost died too. Her name is Esme Brown.”

  “She survived?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Still in Lakeview. I’m really worried for her safety.”

  “Do you think she might be able to throw some light on what’s happening?”

  “Maybe. Donna told me that she planned to talk to her, but she never got the chance.”

  “That’s very helpful. Thanks.”

  “Will you keep me posted?”

  “Of course I will.”

  Once I was out of the building, I called the office.

  “These are the offices of Jill Gooder, err—I mean, Jill Maxwell. How may I help you?”

  “It’s me, Mrs V. Have you come up with anything on Lakeview yet?”

  “Yes. The company that bought it is called SobersCare. The man in charge is Mark Sobers. There have been a few reports in the press about the company. Financially, they’re doing spectacularly well. They’ve bought numerous care homes across the country, and profits have soared.”

  “Anything else apart from the financials?”

  “I was just getting to that. There have been a number of reports showing the mortality rates of residents has increased dramatically since they took over, but all the investigati
ons have found nothing suspicious.”

  “Right. Okay, thanks for that.”

  “Jill, there is just one more thing. A number of the reports make a big deal about the business model they use. They offer a one-off upfront payment which they guarantee will cover the resident for the lifetime of their stay, regardless of how long they may live. Apparently, that’s very unusual. All of the other companies charge on a monthly or annual basis.”

  “Interesting. Okay, thanks, Mrs V.”

  “Will you be coming back to the office?”

  “I doubt it. I’m stacked with work, and I have to get home early because our new bed is being delivered.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  “Okay. Safe driving.”

  I’d no sooner finished on the call to Mrs V than my phone rang again.

  “Manic has something for you.”

  “Right?”

  “The hit-and-run wasn’t an accident. A geezer known as Blood was paid to do it.”

  “Blood?”

  “His real name is Jim Grey. Word is, he’s skipped the country. Spain probably.”

  “Do you know who hired him?”

  “It took some tracking down because there was a chain of people involved, but Manic got to the bottom of it.”

  “And?”

  “Our agreement still stands? Twenty-five percent of your fee comes to Manic.”

  “Yes, assuming your information proves to be good.”

  “Manic’s information is always good. The guy you’re looking for is called Sobers. Mark Sobers. He’s a—”

  “It’s okay. I know who he is. Thanks for getting in touch.”

  “Manic expects prompt payment. No extended credit.”

  Any doubts I’d had as to whether foul play was involved at Lakeview, had been dispelled by Manic’s phone call. If Sobers was capable of arranging to have Donna Lewis killed, he was capable of anything.

  The name Sobers had rung a distant bell, and now it was all coming back to me. Jack had watched a news feature about the young dynamic entrepreneur. He was being lauded for the remarkable job he’d done in building his highly profitable care home empire. From what I knew now, it appeared that he may have done so by killing off his residents. No other company would dare to offer a one-off upfront fee because they could go bankrupt if their residents lived to a ripe old age. But, if you could guarantee that wasn’t going to happen, the proposition suddenly became viable.