by Adele Abbott
I wandered around the garden a few times, sniffing the flower beds. I’d never realised just how sensitive a dog’s nose was.
“Hello, Ugly Boy!”
I looked up to see a ginger cat sitting on the fence. I ignored him, and went back to sniffing the flowers.
“What did I tell you, Ugly Boy? This garden belongs to me. You’d better get back inside before your nose gets another whacking.”
What a nasty piece of work that cat was. I was going to enjoy this.
“This is my garden.” I met the cat’s gaze. “I can walk around it if I want to.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He jumped off the fence. “I guess I’m going to have to teach you another lesson.”
The next thing I knew, the cat was rushing towards me. It was about to slash me with its claws when I swiped it with my front paw. The force of the blow sent the cat spiralling into a bush.
Dazed, it got back to its feet. “Now you’re dead, Ugly Boy.” It charged at me again. This time I sent it flying into the flower bed.
It took him longer to get to his feet this time. He was clearly shaken from the blows, but even more confused by what had just happened.
“Get out of my garden, you smelly cat. If you come in here again, I’ll give you much worse than that.”
The cat hesitated for a moment, but then jumped onto the fence and over into the garden beyond.
Job done.
“Well done, Jill,” Aunt Lucy patted me on the back after I’d reversed the spell.
“I don’t think Barry will have any more problems with that little monster. I’ll go and give him the good news.”
I found him back under the table.
“Barry. You can go into the garden now.”
“What about that horrible cat?”
“I’ve had a word with him, and he said he won’t give you any more trouble.”
“Honestly?”
“I promise.”
“What if he’s lying?”
“He isn’t. It’s perfectly safe. Why don’t you have a run out there now while I watch you?”
“Okay. If you’re sure it’s safe.”
“It is. I promise.”
Barry made his way cautiously into the garden. Once outside, he looked over at the back fence.
“It’s okay, Barry. He won’t give you any more trouble.”
Barry edged around the garden—slowly at first, but then as he became more confident, he began to run around and around in circles.
“Thank you, Jill!”
“It was my pleasure.”
***
After that little episode, I decided to reward myself with a muffin.
What? It was the very least I deserved.
When I arrived at Cuppy C, one of the assistants was behind the counter. The twins were busy at the far side of the shop; they had a tape-measure stretched between them, and Pearl was scribbling down notes.
“What are they up to?” I asked the assistant, as she made my coffee.
“Your guess is as good as mine. They never tell us anything.”
Armed with my drink and muffin, I took a table as close to the twins as I could get.
“Measuring for another serving hatch?”
They both shot me a death-glare.
“Sorry, sorry. Just my little joke. What are you up to?”
“We’re going to have a fish tank in here. We’re just making sure we know how much room we have for it.”
“What inspired that idea?”
“I had to go to the dentist last week.” Amber held her jaw. “I’d lost a filling.”
“Ouch. Is it okay now?”
“Yes. All sorted. They have a fish tank in the waiting room. That got me thinking that it would add to the ambience in here.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
The twins exchanged a shocked look.
“Did you hear that, Pearl? Jill thinks we’ve had a good idea.”
“I know. Colour me shocked.”
“Okay, okay. I know I’m sometimes down on your ideas.”
“Sometimes?” Amber rolled her eyes. “You’re always Debbie Downer. Isn’t she, Pearl?”
“Yeah. All the time.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be. It’s just that I don’t like to see you make mistakes that might damage the shop’s reputation, or cost you money. But the fish tank is a great idea. When will you get it?”
“Next week, hopefully. We don’t want it before then because we need as much room as possible for the book signing evening.”
“Oh yeah. I’d forgotten all about Tammy what’s-her-face.”
“Winestock.”
“That’s her. Is that still happening, then?”
“You bet. It’s a real coup for us to get her. There’s been a ton of interest. This place will be choc-a-bloc.”
I had to hand it to the twins. After more than their fair share of duds, they had now come up with two winners. The fish in Bar Fish had proven to be very popular before they were replaced by piranhas. And, although I’d never heard of Tammy Winestock, it seemed likely that she would pull in the crowds.
***
Mrs V was by herself in the office; she was thoroughly engrossed in research for her family tree. Once again, she had her paperwork spread out over the two desks.
“Morning, Mrs V. I see you’re still at it.”
“Yes, dear. I never realised that genealogy could be so exciting.”
“Have you found any skeletons in the cupboard?”
“How do you mean, dear?”
“Any scoundrels in the family. Black sheep—that kind of thing?”
“Nothing like that, thank goodness, but I have discovered that one of my ancestors, a man named Tobias Fotheringham, was a factory owner right here in Washbridge.”
“Really? Which factory?”
“Do you remember the old sock factory?”
“I know the building you mean. It’s been converted into apartments. In fact, a friend of mine lives there.”
“That’s the one. Do you think your friend might allow me to visit the building? I’d love to be able to stand in the spot where my ancestor once worked.”
“I don’t know, but I can certainly ask. Oh, and before I forget, a friend of my aunt is moving to Washbridge soon. She’s an avid knitter, and was hoping to meet other yarnies. Would you mind if I give her your contact details?”
“Not at all. She’s more than welcome to join our little group. What’s her name?”
“I can’t remember. Oh, wait a minute. Biddy, that was it.”
“Why can I smell dog on you?” Winky jumped onto my desk.
“I had to turn myself into a dog.”
“You did what? Why?”
“My aunt’s dog was having problems with a cat. It was bullying him.”
“What kind of wussy dog is it that lets a cat bully him?”
“Barry isn’t a wuss. He’s just very sensitive.”
“So, dog-lady, what did you get up to? Did you go around sniffing bums?”
“Don’t be disgusting. If you must know, I put the bully in his place.”
“Oh charming. So now I find out that I’m sharing an office with a cat beater.”
“I’m not a cat beater. I just defended myself. I don’t think that cat will be bothering Barry again.”
“If you can change yourself into a dog, does that mean you could change yourself into a cat?”
“I don’t know. I suppose so.”
“You should give it a go, and then we could fool around a little.”
Someone please erase that image from my mind.
Chapter 8
It was no good, I needed to start working out regularly. It’s not like I had any excuses: the gym was literally next door, and I had the free life-time membership.
“Jill?” Brent was on reception at I-Sweat.
“You don’t have to look quite so surprised to see me.”
“Sorry. You�
��ve picked a good time; it’s very quiet in there at the moment. George is in the gym if you need any help.”
“Thanks.”
Once I’d changed, I found George, tinkering with one of the CCTV cameras that had been installed since I was last in there.
“Jill? Long time, no see.”
“How is the CCTV working out?”
“I’m beginning to think it was a waste of money.”
“Really? Isn’t it working?”
“It’s working fine, but it isn’t helping to solve the mystery of the animal fur.”
“How come?”
“We’ve had it running for a while now. We check it first thing every morning, but so far, it hasn’t captured anything unusual, and yet we’re still finding animal fur on the equipment every day. It doesn’t make any sense.”
He was right; it didn’t make any sense. Winky was still running his illegal Moonlight Gym operation, so why hadn’t the CCTV caught him at it? And why hadn’t Winky been more concerned when I’d told him that the cameras were being installed? I was definitely missing something.
“Do you think I could take a look at your CCTV set-up when I’ve finished my workout, George?”
“Sure, but why?”
“Between you and me, I’m a bit of a CCTV anorak. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He grinned. “Come and find me when you’ve finished your workout, and I’ll take you to the ‘control centre’.”
“Control Centre?”
“It sounds better than saying the broom cupboard. That’s where we have it set up.”
“Right. Got it.”
Whose stupid idea was this workout? I was holding onto the rail of the treadmill that I’d just stepped off. I daren’t let go because my legs had turned to jelly.
“Are you okay, Jill?” George appeared at my side.
“Yeah! Brilliant!”
“Are you sure?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Have you tried our new cross-trainer?”
“Not yet.”
“You should. It’s state of the art.”
“Right. I’ll give it a go in a minute.”
I waited until he’d walked away, and then crawled out of the gym on all-fours.
By the time I’d showered and dressed, I was feeling slightly more human, even though I was still walking like a crab with arthritis.
“That was a short session,” George said when I caught up with him.
“Short, but high-intensity. That’s the way I like it.”
“Do you still want to take a look at our CCTV set-up?”
“Is the cupboard far from here?”
“Just down the corridor.”
“Okay.” I could just about hobble that far.
“Do you want me to show you how it works?” he asked, once we had squeezed into the broom cupboard.
“No, that’s okay. I know my way around these things.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.”
I wanted to view the recording of the hours when I-Sweat was closed. Those were the hours that Winky’s Moonlight Gym was operational.
I cued the recording to start at midnight the previous day. The display was split into four; each mini-screen showed a different area of the gym. It was deserted, so I fast-forwarded the recording, keeping an eye open for any sign of feline activity, but there was nothing. The first time any movement was picked up by the camera was when Brent came through the doors at just before 8am.
How could that possibly be? It didn’t make any sense. Winky was still selling subscriptions, and yet there was no sign that his customers were using the gym overnight. I knew I must have missed something, so I reset the recording, and began to watch it again. This time, though, I didn’t fast-forward it. Instead, I watched it in real time.
It made for tedious viewing, and I was just about to give up when I spotted something. A small, white moth landed on the rowing machine closest to the window. I fast-forwarded an hour, and checked again. The moth hadn’t moved. Another hour, and the moth was still in the same place. I continued to fast-forward until, at 5am, the moth disappeared. It didn’t fly away; it just disappeared.
Eureka!
Winky was on the sofa, fast asleep.
“Okay. How did you do it?” I nudged him.
“Do you mind? I was having an incredible dream.”
“Tired from working all night in the Moonlight Gym?”
“Don’t you have any work to do? Oh, sorry. Stupid question. Of course you don’t.”
“What did you do to the CCTV system in I-Sweat?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that. I’ve just been watching the recording. It freezes for several hours overnight.”
“They must have bought some cheap kit.”
“I know you’re behind it. That’s why you weren’t worried when I told you that they were having the system installed. You might as well tell me how you did it.”
“If you must know, I gave Tibby The Hack a free membership. He sorted it for me.”
“I take it that Tibby The Hack is a cat?”
“Not just any cat. He can hack anything, anywhere. I suppose this means you’re going to grass me up, and get my gym shut down?”
“Not necessarily. There might be a way that you can keep the gym open.”
“Go on. I’m listening.”
“I could use someone with Tibby’s skill-set. If you can persuade him to make his services available to me whenever I need them, then I needn’t tell the I-Sweat boys what I know.”
“You’re even more corrupt than I am.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Okay. Deal.”
***
I’d managed to trace Conrad Landers’ solicitor. The convicted murderer had already had several appeals rejected, but according to his solicitor, he was busy working on another one. I wanted to speak to Landers if only to rule out any connection between Patty Lake’s murder and Angie Potts’ disappearance. His solicitor had promised to ask Landers if he would request a visitor’s pass for me. Failing that, he was going to see if he could get Landers to speak to me on the phone.
In the meantime, I wanted to meet Sophie Brownling’s husband, Lionel. I’d called ahead, and Sophie had confirmed they would both be at home. She met me at the door to their bungalow.
“Lionel is in the lounge,” she said, in a hushed voice. “He wasn’t very keen on doing this.”
“Oh? Why?”
“He doesn’t like to see me upset.”
“Okay. I’ll try to keep it brief.”
She led the way into the lounge where her husband, a stocky man with a weather-worn face, was seated on the sofa.
“Jill Gooder. Thanks for seeing me, Mr Brownling.”
“Sophie seems to think it might help, but I can’t imagine how.”
“I’ve read all of the press clippings that your wife left with me, and I’ve also checked the newspaper archives at the library, but what I’d really like to know is what both of you think happened to Angie.”
“Why are you asking us?” Lionel snapped. “Isn’t that what we’re paying you to find out?”
“Lionel!” Sophie scolded her husband. “You promised.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look it.
“I think someone must have grabbed her off the street,” Sophie said. “I don’t believe that Angie would have got into a car with a stranger. She was too sensible for that.”
“She had been drinking,” I said.
“Angie never got so drunk that she didn’t know what she was doing.”
“What about you, Mr Brownling? What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. How could I?”
“How did you get on with Angie?”
“Okay.” He shrugged.
“I imagine that the relationship between stepfather and stepdaughter can be difficult at times.”
�
��What are you implying?”
“She isn’t implying anything, Lionel.” Sophie put her hand on her husband’s arm.
“It sounds like it to me. Angie and I got on just fine. She wasn’t as close to me as she was to her mother, but then you wouldn’t expect her to be.”
“Had there been any particular arguments just before her disappearance?”
“This is beginning to sound like an interrogation.” His face flushed. “I had nothing to do with Angie’s disappearance, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation.”
“I’m sorry if that’s how it came across, but if I’m going to help, I need to find out as much as I can about the family dynamic.”
“What good will that do?” he said. “I told Sophie this was a waste of time and money.”
“While I was looking through the archives at the library, I came across an article about a young woman, Patty Lake, who was murdered nine months after Angie disappeared. There was some suggestion that the person who killed her might also have been responsible for Angie’s abduction.”
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of this.” Lionel stood up.
“Please, Lionel.” Sophie reached for his hand, but he pulled away.
“You’re wasting our time, Ms Gooder. The police dismissed the possibility of any connection between the two cases almost twenty years ago. I’ve had enough.” He left the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.
“Sorry about that,” Sophie said. “He means well, but he has a temper. He thinks I’d be happier if I could let all of this go, but how can I?”
“Do you remember the Patty Lake case?”
“Of course. The police came to see us when she first went missing. They must have thought there might be some connection at first, but then Patty’s body was found, and we didn’t hear any more from them. The next thing we knew, that young man had been charged with her murder. I asked the police if he might have been responsible for Angie’s disappearance too, but they were adamant that he wasn’t.”
“Okay. I’m sorry to have upset your husband.”
“He’ll be alright. Have you made any progress at all?”
“Not yet, but it’s early days. I’d like to speak to the other three women who went out with Angie that night. Do you have their details?”