by Adele Abbott
“Gross! No, thanks.”
“I really am sorry, Jill. You seem like a nice person.”
“Never mind the soft soap. I’m warning you right now, if any more slates go missing, you’ll wish you’d never been born. Always assuming gargoyles are born, that is.”
“Don’t worry. Your roof is perfectly safe.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“I don’t need the aggro. There are thousands of roofs and just as many naive sups around. I’ll go ply my trade elsewhere.”
“See that you do, or you’ll be sorry.”
When I got back to the office, Winky was on his phone.
“It’s just a coincidence, Bobby. Yes, I’m sure. I’d know about it if there was a problem. Okay, see you soon.”
“What was that all about?” I said.
“Nothing.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing. It sounded like someone wasn’t very happy about something. It’s that energy drink of yours, isn’t it?”
“None of your business.”
“I knew it was dodgy. What’s happened? Has someone died?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why do you always have to be so melodramatic? And anyway, where have you been? Your hair is all over the place again.”
“Up on the roof.”
“With your pal Dada?”
“It’s Dadoo. Ron.”
“Ron Dadoo of course. How could I have forgotten? Have you bought him more sugar mice?”
“No, I told him to sling his hook.”
“Does that mean I can have them?”
Chapter 9
“What time is the wind turbine guy coming tonight?” Jack was chewing on an oat bar.
I couldn’t decide if that was an improvement on the muesli or not.
“Eight o’clock. I figured we’d have finished dinner by then.”
“I’m still not sure about the whole wind turbine thing,” he said.
“I thought we’d agreed it was a good idea?”
“I’m all in favour of doing away with electricity charges, but I’m not sure whether I can put up with a back garden full of wind turbines.”
“It can’t do any harm to hear what the guy has to say. It’s not like we’re under any obligation to sign up.”
“I guess. By the way, you never told me what happened with those fairies in Mrs V’s wood.”
“They’re not fairies. They’re wood nymphs. I had a word with them, but it didn’t do any good. They categorically denied stealing the biscuits and cake.”
“Do you believe them?”
“Not for one minute. They were way too defensive, and besides, Daze reckons they’re renowned for their sweet tooth.”
“What are you going to do about them?”
“I haven’t worked that out yet.”
“Anything else exciting happening with you?”
“I was conned into buying sugar mice for a gargoyle, and Winky is manufacturing and selling energy drinks. Other than that, nothing much.”
No way was I going to mention the possible alien invasion. That would have totally blown his mind.
***
One of the ghosts living in Kathy’s house had started to say something about someone called Redgrave. I had no idea who that was because Lizzie had interrupted us before they’d had the chance to tell me. One thing was clear, though, they were obviously terrified of him/her/it.
I figured if anyone would be able to throw some light on it, that someone would be Mad. I’d called her earlier, and she’d said I was welcome to pop over to her apartment before she left for work.
As soon as I entered the building, I could hear raised voices coming from one of the floors above, and it came as no surprise to find Charlie, Neil and Dorothy going at it hammer and tongs.
“Hey, guys.”
“Jill, will you please tell these two idiots that leaving the toilet seat up is not cool because apparently they’re too stupid to understand that simple concept.”
“I never leave it up,” Charlie protested. “Honestly.”
“Neither do I.” Neil shrugged. “I’ve already told you who’s responsible.”
“You think you can blame that ghost for everything.” Dorothy was getting redder and redder in the face. “I’m not stupid, you know. Everyone knows ghosts don’t have to—err—go.”
“I never said Socky had used the loo.” Neil rolled his eyes. “He just lifts the seat up because he knows it will wind you up and land me in trouble.”
This argument looked set to run for some time, so I made my excuses and continued up to Mad’s apartment.
“What’s all that row about?” Mad looked over my shoulder to the stairs.
“It’s Dorothy, Charlie and Neil going at it.”
“Those three are always arguing about something. What’s it about this time?”
“You really don’t want to know, trust me.”
“Come on in. I’ve just made tea. Do you want a cup?”
“Yes, please.”
Over drinks, we shot the breeze about this and that.
“How’s Jack’s mother settling in at Cakey C?” Mad said.
“She appears to be enjoying it from what I can make out.”
“Your parents seem to have made a fist of running the tea room. Whenever I go in there, it’s always a lot busier than when it was Spooky Wooky.”
“You’re right. I expected it to be a disaster, but that just goes to show how much I know.”
“You said you wanted to talk about Lizzie. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Did you know Kathy and Peter had moved into a new house?”
“You mentioned it the last time I saw you. How are they settling in?”
“So far, so good, apart from the whole beanstalk thing.”
“Beanstalk?”
“That’s a very long story for another day. Lizzie told me there was a family of ghosts living in the house, so I thought I should check them out for myself. Just to be on the safe side. Anyway, the family seem fine.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“They appear to be terrified of something. And they mentioned someone called Redgrave.”
“Who’s that?”
“I was hoping you might be able to tell me.”
“The name doesn’t ring any bells. Didn’t you ask them who it was?”
“I tried to, but we were interrupted.”
“Are you sure that it’s a ghost?”
“Not really. I suppose it could be a sup.”
“I can ask around to see if anyone else recognises the name if you like.”
“That would be great. And I’ll ask Grandma. If Redgrave is a sup, she’ll know.”
By the time I left Mad’s apartment, there was no sign of Dorothy or Neil, but I ran into Charlie on my way downstairs.
“I’m sorry you had to listen to all of our nonsense, Jill.”
“That’s okay. I’ve never lived with flatmates, but I suspect if I had, there would have been lots of arguments. Was Neil telling the truth about that ghost of yours?”
“About Socky? I’m not sure. That ghost is certainly capable of doing something like that, but Neil wouldn’t think twice about lying if he thought it would save his skin.”
“Your friend, Seb, came to see me earlier in the week.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to help him?”
“Hopefully. I’m going undercover on Monday as a vampire-gram. I’m a bit nervous about it, to be honest.”
“Why not as a witch?”
“Apparently, there’s very little demand for witches.”
“You should have asked Dorothy for some tips.”
“She seemed to have other things on her mind.”
Talking to Charlie had reminded me that I needed to buy some props for my performance as a vampire-gram. Once upon a time, all three of the flatmates had worked in the fancy dress shop, but now Neil was the only one of the three still working there.
&nb
sp; The shop looked pretty much the same as on my previous visit. There was no sign of Neil, but there were two young women behind the counter. One of them was a witch, the other a human.
“Can I help?” the witch’s name was Deborah, according to her name tag.
“Is Neil in?”
“Are you a friend of his?”
“Not a friend, exactly. I’ve just come from his flat, actually.”
“I see.” She gave me what I took to be a knowing wink.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I was there to see a friend of mine who lives in the same building. Is Neil here?”
“No, we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him yet, have we, Fable?”
“Nothing unusual there.” The blonde raised her eyebrows. “He pretty much comes and goes when he likes.”
“Right.” I turned back to Deborah. “Do you think I could have a quiet word?”
“Sure.” She led the way to a small office at the rear of the shop. “What can I do for you?”
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of—err—”
“Fable?”
“That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s pretentious if you ask me, but she’s okay. As humans go, that is. What did you want?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Cool job.”
“Thanks. Next week, I have to go undercover as a singing telegram.”
“Rather you than me. I can’t sing for toffee.”
“The thing is, I have to do it as a vampire.”
“Why not as a witch?”
“No one wants a witch-gram, apparently.”
“Typical. We always were underrated.”
“So, I need to look as much like a vampire as possible, and I thought maybe you could give me some advice.”
“Sure. Obviously, the first thing you’ll need is fangs.”
“I assume you have some in stock?”
“We have lots of different ones, but to be honest, most of them are a joke. The Bite656 are okay, though. They’re the closest you’ll get to the real thing.”
“Great. Can I see them?”
“Sure. What else do you need?”
“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that.”
“Are you going for authentic vampire or sexy vampire?”
“Authentic. Definitely authentic.”
“Okay, let’s go and see what we can sort out for you.”
***
Mrs V was playing tiddlywinks. Because? Who knows? Perhaps she just needed a change from knitting.
“Good morning, Jill. You’re probably wondering why I’m doing this.” The wink she’d aimed at the pot missed its mark by a foot.
“Not really. Nothing that happens in this office surprises me anymore.”
“Have I mentioned Marjorie Bead to you before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“She’s one of very few yarnies I simply can’t get along with. She’s always bragging. You know the sort. I just happened to mention that I loved to play tiddlywinks when I was a child. The next thing I know, she says that she used to be the county champion. It’s a lie of course. Most of the stuff that comes out of her mouth is. Anyway, before I could stop myself, I’d challenged her to a match with a twenty-pound wager. It was only later that it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually played for over fifty years, so on the way into work, I called into that small toy shop in town and bought these. So far, though, it looks like I’m going to lose that bet.”
“You’re holding the squidger too tightly.” I picked up one of the small disks. “You need to hold it like this.” I flicked one of the winks which landed in the pot.
“That was incredible, Jill. I had no idea you were a tiddlywinks master.”
“You know me. I don’t like to brag.”
“That’s a good one.” Winky laughed. “Don’t like to brag? You? You do nothing else.”
“Rubbish. My middle name is Modest.”
“Think you’re good at tiddlywinks, do you?”
“I was school champion. Three years running.”
“In that case, you’ll be up for a small wager, I assume?”
“At tiddlywinks? Definitely.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that? I don’t want to push you into something you might regret later. You haven’t forgotten what happened in the hula hoop challenge, have you?”
“This is different. You won’t stand a chance. How about ten pounds?”
“Ten? That’s hardly worth my time,” he scoffed. “How about twenty?”
“Fine by me. When?”
“How does next Thursday sound?”
“That works for me.”
“Next Thursday it is, then.” This was going to be the easiest twenty pounds I’d ever made, and the best part was, I didn’t even need to practise. “So, spill the beans. How did the great reunion go? Are you and Sonya an item again?”
“No.”
“Is that all I’m getting?”
“I was lured there under false pretences.”
“How come?”
“Sonya told me that it was a party, and I suppose it was of sorts, but it wasn’t my kind of thing.”
“It wasn’t one of those kinky parties for swingers, was it?”
“No, of course it wasn’t. Your mind is like a cesspool. It was basically just a promotion for FelHealth. They manufacture and sell all manner of health products for felines. It’s all incredibly expensive.”
“Did you buy anything?”
“I did not. Like I said to Sonya, do I look like I need health products? This body of mine is at peak fitness.”
“Hmm.”
“And, anyway, they weren’t trying very hard to shift the product. The main focus of the evening was them trying to recruit more agents.”
“To work for FelHealth?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you sign up?”
“Why would I? It takes all my time to keep on top of my own business interests. I don’t have time to work for anyone else. Quite a few did sign up, though, which made Sonya very happy because she stands to get a cut of any sales they make.”
“Ponzi.”
“Who are you calling poncy?”
“Not poncy. Ponzi. P-O-N-Z-I.”
“That sounds Italian.”
“It is. Kind of. It’s named after Charles Ponzi who was Italian. It’s like a pyramid scheme.”
“Is that where they sell pyramids?”
“No, it’s—”
“I’m not stupid. I know what a pyramid scheme is. You may be right; the whole thing seemed decidedly dodgy to me.”
***
I’d arranged to accompany Paula Green to her solicitor, to take a look at her late husband’s Will.
“I’m off out, Mrs V. I’m going to—ouch!” An errant wink hit me on the end of the nose.
“I’m dreadfully sorry, dear. I might have put a little too much power into that one.”
“You think?”
“Perhaps it would be best if I practised at home from now on.”
“Either that or you’d better order me some goggles and a safety helmet.”
She picked up the tiddlywinks and put them into her bag. “Armi got through another pack of biscuits last night. That man is eating me out of house and home.”
Those wood nymphs were taking liberties now. Something would have to be done about them; I just had to figure out what.
Chapter 10
Hubert Bridge was one of the senior partners at Bridge, Bridge, Bridge and Coleman. It struck me as rather unfortunate that, instead of Coleman, they couldn’t have appointed another partner with the name of Bridge. Perhaps that would have been a bridge too far.
What? Come on, you know you love it.
Normally, I wouldn’t have expected a senior partner to get involved with a simple matter, like discussing a Will, but Paula Green had told me that Hubert Bridge had dealt with all their affairs for almost twenty years.
> “Paula.” He came around the desk and gave her a gentle hug. “How are you doing?”
“Bearing up, just about. It’s a case of having to, isn’t it?”
He turned to me. “You must be Mrs Maxwell.”
“Jill, please.”
“Do have a seat, ladies. How exactly can I help you today?”
“I believe Paula has explained that I’m looking into the circumstances of her husband’s death.”
“Indeed, although I have to say that I was a little surprised. I understood the inquest had concluded it was suicide.”
“They did, but I’m sure you’ll understand that Paula needs to be absolutely sure. Just for her own peace of mind.”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to ask you about John’s Will.”
“I assumed as much.” He glanced over at Paula. “Are you happy for me to discuss this with Mrs—err—Jill?”
She nodded.
I continued, “Paula mentioned that she and John regularly updated their Wills, particularly in respect of the charities who stood to benefit.”
“That’s correct.”
“Can you tell me which charities may have been added or removed in the last couple of years?”
“I’m afraid not. I can only discuss the final version of the Will. I’m not able to reveal the contents of previous Wills. Not even to Paula. That’s the law.”
“I understand. In that case, perhaps you could provide me with a copy of the final version of the Will. I’d like to take it away with me to study.”
“That, I can do. In fact, I’d already anticipated your request.” He opened the top drawer of his desk, and took out a large manila envelope, which he handed to Paula. “There are two copies in there. If you need any more, just give my secretary a call.”
After leaving the solicitor’s office, we made our way to a quiet little tea room, which Paula had recommended, but which I’d never seen before. Called Cosy Corner, it was indeed both of those things. Located at the end of a small courtyard, it was squeezed between a hat shop called Who Wants To Be A Millinery, and an old-fashioned music shop called Sheet Music. There were just four tables, and we were the only customers.
Once we had our drinks, we took a seat by the window.