by Adele Abbott
“But I—err—”
“No buts—just do it! I’ll check later, and if you haven’t done both of those things, you can expect a visit from the police.” I started for the door. “And don’t even think about doing a runner because I have people watching your offices. Have a nice day.”
As soon as I was out of Toastmaster’s office building, I made a call to Karen Coombes.
“It’s Jill. I have some good news for you.”
“I could certainly use some.”
“All of the back pay owed to you and your friends should be paid by the end of the day.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“I’m ninety-nine percent certain.”
“That’s great news. How on earth did you manage it?”
“Kelvin Toastmaster was the one who has been siphoning off the money. I’ve just persuaded him that it would be in his best interests to hand it over. If you haven’t got it by close of business today, let me know.”
“That’s fantastic, Jill. Thank you so much.”
“Also, Toastmaster will be resigning his position at Hauntings Unlimited with immediate effect.”
“I suppose that had to happen.”
“I thought you’d be pleased?”
“I am, but it’s just occurred to me that with Toastmaster gone, the business is effectively no more. A lot of ghosts will be out of work. Still, there’s nothing we can do about that. Thanks again, Jill.”
Although Karen had been pleased to hear about the back pay, she’d obviously been disappointed about the possible demise of Hauntings Unlimited. But I had an idea—maybe there was a way to keep the company going.
I made a phone call to the colonel.
***
I was due to meet Daze in thirty minutes, but first I had to collect the souls from my office.
“Any update on Jasmine?” Jules asked.
“I’m hoping there’ll be some good news by morning. Sorry, I can’t hang around. I have to get something from my office, and rush straight back out again.”
“No!” I screamed.
Balanced on the edge of my desk were the three glass jars. Standing just in front of me was Winky. He was holding the toy gun I’d left in my desk drawer. My scream must have made him jump because the rubber-sucker dart flew to one side of the desk, and stuck on the window.
“Look what you made me do,” Winky complained, as he loaded another dart.
“Give me that!” I snatched the gun from his paws.
“Hey! What’s up? I was only having a little target practice.”
“Not with those jars, you don’t.”
“Why not? They’re ugly, and you obviously don’t like them, or you wouldn’t have shoved them in the drawer.”
“They’re not just jars. They contain souls.”
“Why are you still spouting that nonsense?”
“It’s true. That coloured smoke is someone’s soul.”
“Of course it is. And my whiskers are actually made of twenty-four carat gold.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you.” I grabbed the jars.
“At least leave me the gun.”
“Don’t break anything.” I tossed it to him, and then rushed out of the office.
Daze was waiting for me around the back of Regent’s Hospital. Standing next to her was a tall, pencil-thin wizard with a white moustache and a brown beard.
“Jill, this is Professor Peesnap.”
“Nice to meet you, Professor. Sorry, my arms are rather full.”
“Call me PS, everyone does. Let me take one of those.”
He took the jar containing the blue smoke; Daze took the one containing the red.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“Follow me.” Daze led the way through the back entrance. Once inside, she took us to a small room on the first floor which was obviously the laundry. “Find a white coat that fits you. No one ever questions someone wearing a white coat.”
We did as she said, and then the three of us made our way to the wing where the three young women were being held. No one stopped us, or even questioned us until we reached the entrance to the secure wing.
“You can’t go in there,” the nurse said.
“This is Doctor Peesnap.” Daze stepped forward. “You should have been told to expect him.”
The nurse checked her clipboard. “I don’t have anything here.”
“Check again.”
“Still nothing.”
“I don’t have time for this,” PS snapped. “I have a plane to catch in three hours.”
“The doctor has flown in specially to see these patients,” Daze said. “Do you want to be the one responsible for sending him away?”
“I’m sorry, but without proper authorisation, my hands are tied.”
I’d had enough; she wasn’t going to budge, so I resorted to the ‘sleep’ spell.
“Grab her ID card!” I yelled to Daze.
She did, and she used it to swipe us through the door.
“Over here.” I’d located the room where Jasmine was being held. “How do we know which one of these is her soul?”
PS looked at Jasmine through the small window. “Hers is the blue one.”
“How can you tell?”
“There isn’t time to go into that now.”
Daze used the ID card again to gain access to the padded room. She stayed outside while PS and I went in. Jasmine stared at us through the sunken eyes of a mad woman. PS placed the jar containing the blue smoke onto the floor, removed the stopper, and then cast a spell—one I didn’t recognise. The smoke spiralled out of the jar and floated towards Jasmine. She opened her mouth as if to scream, and as she did, the smoke disappeared down her throat. I was completely transfixed by what I’d just seen, and somewhat taken aback when a gentle voice said, “Where am I?”
Within minutes, Jasmine was transformed. Her colour had returned, and the light was back in her eyes. Unsurprisingly, she was more than a little confused, so I explained to her that she’d been struck down by a little-known virus. Meanwhile, PS and Daze were returning the souls of the other two women.
At our request, the three women remained in the secure wing, but outside of their padded cells. As far as the young women were aware, we were doctors, so they did as we asked. On our way out, I reversed the ‘sleep’ spell on the nurse. She would be in for something of a surprise when she went to check on her patients.
“Thanks for your help, PS,” I said, once we were back outside.
“Glad to have been of assistance.”
“What shall I do with these empty jars?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind,” PS said. “I’ll take them back with me.”
“No problem. Do you want to use them for your experiments with souls?”
“Actually, no. I’m planning on making some jam this weekend, and they would be ideal.”
After PS had left, I collared Daze. “I see you’re still wearing the catsuit. What happened to the plans for the mini-skirts?”
“They’ve been cancelled.”
“How come?”
“All the rogue retrievers threatened to walk out on strike.”
“You mean the women?”
“No. Everyone. The women were all set to walk out when the men said they’d come out too in support of us. I have to be honest, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Good for them. I for one am glad you’re sticking with the catsuit. I’ve always thought it looked great.”
Chapter 26
“I’ve been thinking,” Jack said, in between spoonfuls of muesli.
“About the seven-ten split?”
“No, about you, actually. You really missed your vocation.”
“How so?”
“You should have joined the police.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You must get fed up with the tedious cases you have to deal with.”
“Tedious?”
“Missing peopl
e, unfaithful partners, employees embezzling from their employers. It must all be rather boring. You’d have much more interesting stuff to deal with if you’d join the force.”
“You’re right.” I sighed. “I do have to deal with some pretty mundane stuff.” Like restoring souls to their rightful owners, returning stolen money from a crooked ghost, helping the pixie king, and breaking up a dog-shifter scam. Just so boring.
“By the way, I spoke to Mum. We can go up there the weekend after next.”
“Great. I can’t wait to see them again.”
The sooner I discovered the identities of the new witchfinders, the better.
***
Miley Riley answered the door.
“Jill? Is Leo expecting you?”
“I doubt it. Can you ask him if he can spare me a few minutes?”
“Sure. Would you mind waiting there?”
“Okay.”
Moments later, Leo came outside, shutting the door behind him. He was wearing trousers, and a string vest. Judging by his face, I must have caught him in the middle of shaving.
“What do you want, Gooder? What do you think you’re doing coming to my house?”
“I thought you’d prefer me to deal with this away from your workplace.”
“Deal with what?”
“Specifically, the fact that you’re a corrupt, no-good slimeball.”
“You want to watch your mouth or—”
“Or what? Are you threatening me?”
“You bet I am. Just because you’re with Maxwell, don’t think you can mess with me.”
“I’ve got something I’d like you to listen to.”
“What are you talking about?”
I took out the digital recorder, and pressed play.
Riley’s face fell as he heard the two voices. “That’s not me on there.”
“Really? It sounds an awful lot like you. And the other voice is certainly Martin Macabre. How much did he give you, Leo?”
Riley snatched the recorder from my hand, threw it on the floor, and stamped on it.
“I hope you feel better for that. The thing is, I have a dozen copies of that recording.”
“What are you planning to do with them?”
“That depends on you. If you put in an immediate transfer request, and you are out of the region within the month, then I might just forget I have the recordings. Otherwise, well, who knows whose desk they may end up on?”
His face was contorted with rage; he clearly wanted to do me some serious damage, but whatever else he was, Riley was no fool. His self-preservation instinct had already kicked in. “Okay. I’ll put in a request today, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be gone within a month.”
“I suggest you try. Very hard. For your sake.”
***
My phone rang.
“Jill, it’s Amber. We’ve found one of Talbot’s business cards.”
“That’s great.”
“His business is called S.O. Enterprises. I’ve got an address for it here in Candlefield, if you want it?”
“Yes, please. And a phone number if there is one.”
As soon as I’d finished on the call with Amber, I tried Talbot’s number, but there was no reply, and no answer machine on which to leave a message. The company was located near to Everything Rodent, so I figured I had nothing to lose by going over there on the off-chance that I’d catch Talbot in.
S.O. Enterprises occupied a small office on the third floor. I didn’t bother to knock; I just tried the door.
It was open.
Once inside, I could hear noises coming from the other room.
“Hello! Anyone there? Hello?”
“I’m coming.” It was Talbot’s voice. When he saw me, he grinned. “I wondered how long it would be before I saw you again.”
“I did phone, but no one answered.”
“I didn’t hear it ring, but then I’ve been in the stock room most of the morning.” He brushed the dust off his sleeves. “What can I do for you?”
“You mentioned something about a snake oil to boost memory.”
“Surely snake oil is just a big scam? Didn’t you tell me so yourself?”
“I still think it is.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m prepared to be proved wrong. Do you have any of that stuff?”
“You’re talking about the oil from the redsnap snake, and yes, you’re in luck. I recently received a new batch.”
“I’d like to purchase some.”
“It’s very potent. Can I ask what you intend to use it for?”
“No. That’s none of your business.”
“Fair enough, but I must warn you that not all memories are good ones. I won’t be held responsible for any trauma you might experience.”
“I’m prepared to take that risk.”
“Okay. Wait here, please.”
He disappeared into the back, and returned a few minutes later with the tiniest bottle I’d ever seen. “That will be twenty-five pounds, please.”
“How much? That’s extortionate.”
“Take it or leave it.” He shrugged.
What choice did I have? It’s not like there were any other snake oil salesmen in the Candlefield Pages.
“Here.” I handed over the cash in exchange for the bottle. “How much do I drink?”
“You don’t drink it! That could prove lethal. Put a few drops on a handkerchief, and inhale it.”
“How long does it take to work?”
“It’s pretty much instantaneous, but I have to warn you that the effects will only last for a short time; no more than a few minutes. And under no circumstances must you repeat the dose within a twenty-four-hour period.”
“Are there any side-effects?”
“Not usually.”
Very reassuring.
***
Had I totally lost my mind? Apparently so because I was seriously thinking about using the snake oil. In fact, I’d been contemplating it for the last twenty minutes—ever since I’d magicked myself over to the small room at CASS.
As soon as I landed there, the feeling that there was something familiar about that room returned, but just as on the two previous occasions, the memories were just out of my grasp. That left me with a stark choice: forget about the stupid room, or inhale the snake oil.
I’d deliberated long enough.
I grabbed a tissue from my bag, sprinkled a few drops of the oil onto it, placed it under my nose, and took a deep breath.
I immediately felt light-headed. My vision became clouded, but just as quickly, cleared again. I was still in the same room, but now it was furnished. Seated in front of me were two people: a young man with red hair and a red beard, and a young woman. They were the people whose pictures were in my locket. Both of them appeared oblivious to my presence. But of course they were; this wasn’t actually happening now—it was just a memory.
“We don’t have long,” the young woman said.
“I know.” The young man took her hand. “My father is still working on the spell. He said it would take another hour.”
“We may not have an hour.”
Just then, an older woman came through the door. “You both have to leave right now!”
“There’s no point, Helen,” the young woman said. “My father must know that we’re dead. He must see our bodies.”
“Is the spell ready?”
“Not yet, but it should be soon.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then there’s nothing we can do. You must get out of here, Helen. You’re the only person other than Damon’s father who knows the truth. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”
“I can’t leave you, Juliet. Let me stay, please.”
“No.” The young woman took the locket from her neck, and handed it to the older woman. “Take this. That way we’ll always be with you.”
They were both close to tears.
The older woman slipped the l
ocket into her bag, and then threw her arms around the young woman. “Take care, Juliet. I love you.”
“I love you too, Helen Drewmore. You’ve been like a mother to me. Now go!”
The figures in front of me seemed to melt away, and the room was once again bare. The snake oil had obviously worn off.
“Jill? How did you get here?” Desdemona Nightowl looked more surprised than angry.
“I magicked myself here.”
“Really? No one has ever been able to do that before. But why?”
“There’s something about this room that drew me back.”
She looked around. “But there’s nothing in here.”
“Do you know someone called Helen Drewmore?”
“No, sorry. Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I’m sorry to have dropped in unannounced.”
“That’s okay. Will you join me for lunch?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”
I magicked myself back to Washbridge.
My mind was still swirling with what I’d just witnessed. The locket I’d seen given to the older woman was the same one that I had around my neck. And the pictures in that locket were of the young man and woman in the room. I had so many questions: What was the spell that they were waiting for? She’d said her father had to see their bodies—were they planning to commit suicide? And how did I fit into any of this? One person who might have the answers was the old woman, Helen Drewmore, but she must surely be long dead. Maybe she had descendants who would know her story? If I was ever going to solve this mystery, I had to find out what had happened to Helen Drewmore.
***
When I arrived at the office, Jules was beaming.
“You were right, Jill. I had a phone call this morning. Jasmine is much better. They say she can go home from the hospital later today. Carmen and the other woman have made a full recovery too.”
“That’s great news.”
“How did you know she was going to recover, Jill? Did you have something to do with it?”
“Me, no, how could I? I’m not a doctor. I’d just heard on the grapevine that they thought they’d come up with a cure.”