Witch Is How To Fool Cats

by Adele Abbott

  “No, but like you said, it does seem to be coming from down the corridor. I’ll go and see what’s happening.”

  Kimmy was behind the reception desk at Clown, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she was sporting a brand new clown outfit.

  “Morning, Kimmy.”

  “It’s Sneezy when I’m in costume.”

  “Sorry, I keep forgetting. I don’t think I’ve seen that outfit before, have I?”

  “Do you like it?” I think she was beaming, but it was difficult to tell underneath all the grease paint. “It’s the latest thing in clown couture.”

  “It’s—err—lovely. The reason I popped over was to ask what that whistling noise is. Have you had some new machinery installed or something?”

  “It isn’t coming from our offices. It seems to be coming from above us.”

  “On the roof?”

  “I think so. We’re waiting for a call-back from the landlord. There’s no way we can run any classes with that awful racket going on.”

  “Okay. Keep me posted, will you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you find out what’s causing it?” Mrs V asked.

  “No, but it isn’t anything to do with Clown. It appears to be coming from up on the roof. They’ve called Macabre so hopefully it’ll get sorted soon.”

  “I do hope so, dear. How am I supposed to concentrate on my tiddlywinks with that racket going on?”

  “When is your tiddlywinks match?”

  “It’s tonight, so I need all the practice I can get.”

  “I’m sorry to have to ask you, but there’s something I need you to do for me today.”

  “That’s okay. The tiddlywinks tournament is important, but your work always takes priority. What is it?”

  I handed her the copy of John Green’s Will. “Could you check the list of charities in here. I want to know if they are all bona-fide.”

  “Leave it with me, Jill.”

  There was no sign of Winky in my office. He’d probably gone out to get away from the annoying whistling sound which, although not as loud in here as in Clown’s offices, was really annoying.

  I’d no sooner sat down at my desk than a cat came through the window.

  It wasn’t Winky. This guy was a complete horror show; half of his fur was missing.

  “Where is he?” He jumped onto my desk. “Tell me where he is.”

  “Do you mind? You can’t just come in here and start firing questions at me. Who are you looking for?” As if I didn’t know.

  “Where’s Winky?”

  “What do you want him for?”

  “I’m going to kill him slowly, and then I’m going to kill him again.”

  “What has he done to upset you?”

  “Take a wild guess.” He pointed to the bare patches in his coat.

  “Have you and he been fighting?”

  “No. If we had, he wouldn’t still be around to tell the tale.”

  “What happened to you, then?”

  “It’s that energy drink of his.”

  “CatFizz?”

  “That’s the one. Two bottles, that’s all it took, and then this happened.”

  “Are you sure it was the drink? It could have been anything.”

  “It was definitely the CatFizz. I’m not the only one this has happened to. That cat needs teaching a lesson.”

  “I’m afraid he isn’t here at the moment. He’s gone away for a few days.”

  “Where to?”

  “He’s visiting his brother.”

  “When will he be back?”

  “I couldn’t really say for sure. I suspect he’ll be gone for some time.”

  “Tell him that Roddy was here. And tell him I’ll be back.”

  That was my cue to terminate that particular conversation, so I shooed him out of the window.

  A little more than ten minutes later, Winky crept in through the window.

  “Has he gone?” He glanced around the office.

  “Roddy? Yes, I told him you’d gone to your brother’s.”

  “Good woman. It’s all just a big misunderstanding.”

  “Those bald patches looked pretty real to me.”

  “They’ll grow back.” Winky jumped off the window ledge and onto the sofa. “Given time.”

  “It doesn’t sound like he’s the only one who’s been affected by CatFizz. How could something like that have happened?”

  “There was a teeny tiny mix up with the recipe. One of the ingredients was unavailable so I used a substitute. I didn’t think it would matter.”

  “Clearly it did.”

  “It was an innocent mistake.”

  “Tell that to Roddy.”

  Chapter 13

  It was much more difficult to talk with fake fangs in my mouth than I’d anticipated. “What do you fink of my outfit, Winky?”

  “What do I fink? I fink you look ridiculous. What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

  “A vampire of course.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Look.” I opened my mouth a little wider. “I have fangs. See?”

  “Where’s the blood? Any self-respecting vampire would have blood on their lips and chin.”

  “Don’t be gross.”

  “What’s this all in aid of, anyway?”

  “I’m going undercover as a vampire-gram.”

  “Please tell me you won’t be singing.”

  “Of course I’m going to sing. That’s the whole point of a singing telegram.”

  “You’re tone deaf.”

  “Rubbish. People have said I have the voice of an angel.”

  “Who are these people? They clearly need to be locked up.”

  “I don’t have time to sit around and listen to your insults. I have to be making tracks.”

  “Jill, I’ve checked just over half of these—” Mrs V stopped mid-sentence. “What’s that costume you’re wearing?”

  “I’m a vampire.”

  “Are you? I would never have guessed.”

  “I have the fangs and everything.” I gave her a quick flash.

  “Hmm? Are you going to some kind of fancy dress ball?”

  “No, I’m working undercover as a singing telegram.”

  “Singing?” She laughed, but then just as quickly stopped. “Are you being serious?”

  “Yes, and I’d better look sharp or I’ll be late.”

  Those two sure knew how to give a girl a confidence boost.

  ***

  Although Seb Price had given me the address for the gig, I had no idea who the recipient of the singing telegram actually was, so on my way to the car, I took out the paperwork to check.

  The singing telegram was for a lady called Melody Harmony who was celebrating twenty years with the—oh no! You can’t be serious!

  I grabbed my phone and called Seb.

  “It’s Jill. Have you lost your mind?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This gig you’ve sent me on. Do you realise who it’s for?”

  “I didn’t take that particular booking. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that it’s for a woman called Melody Harmony who just happens to be one of the leading lights of the Washbridge Choral Society.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh, indeed. I can’t possibly stand up in front of her and sing.”

  “You said you had a good voice.”

  “I said it was passable. You need to send someone else to do this gig.”

  “I can’t. There’s no one else available. They’re all out on other jobs.”

  “Great.”

  “You can’t let me down now, Jill.”

  “Okay, I’ll figure something out.”

  How bad could it be? It was just one woman, and even if my performance wasn’t up to her standards, what did it matter in the great scheme of things? As long as I did my best, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.

  Keen to create the right impression, I arrived ten minutes early.
The large detached house, which was located only a few miles from where Kathy now lived, had a beautiful front garden, spoiled only by an ornamental sloth. Still puzzling over why anyone would want an arboreal mammal in their front garden, I took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell.

  The woman who answered the door looked me up and down. “We ordered a vampire.”

  “I am a vampire.” I showed her my fangs.

  “Where’s the blood?”

  Why did Winky have to be right about everything?

  “I—err—”

  “Never mind. You’ll just have to do. Melody will be here any moment now.”

  “Aren’t you Melody?”

  “No, I’m Carol. This is my house. We organised this as a surprise for Melody. She’s a big fan of supernatural movies, so we thought a vampire-gram would be just the ticket.” Carol gave me another once over, but still looked unimpressed. “But I guess you’ll just have to do. Everyone’s in the dining room.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Yes, the whole chorus is here. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze, I’m afraid.”

  This was going from bad to total disaster. I’d assumed I’d be performing in front of the recipient of the singing telegram, plus maybe a few of their friends. I hadn’t expected to have to perform in front of a room full of people, and I certainly hadn’t expected to have an audience made up of a choral society.

  “Ladies, your attention please!” Standing next to me, Carol addressed the other women in the room. “This lady is our surprise for Melody.”

  “I thought you were getting a vampire-gram,” someone shouted.

  “She is a vampire,” Carol tried to reassure them. “Show them your fangs.”

  Rather self-consciously, I obliged.

  “Where’s the blood?” someone else said.

  Just then, the doorbell rang.

  “Shush everyone! That must be Melody.” Carol turned to me. “Are you ready?”

  The answer to that question was definitely a big fat ‘No’, but what could I do? If I bolted for it, that would reflect badly on Seb’s business whose reputation I was supposed to be protecting.

  “Surprise!” Everyone yelled when Melody walked into the room.

  “Oh gosh!” She looked genuinely shocked, but also pleased to see her friends. “What are you all doing here?”

  Carol stepped forward. “We couldn’t let the tenth anniversary of your joining the choral society pass without a small celebration. We have tables booked at the Plough later, but first we thought you’d enjoy this.” She pointed to me.

  Melody looked a little non-plussed.

  “She’s supposed to be a vampire,” Carol said. “Show her your fangs.”

  I obliged.

  “Where’s the blood?”

  Rather than have to justify my appearance again, I broke into song.

  After I’d finished, Carol showed me out.

  “I have to be honest,” she said. “I wasn’t optimistic about your performance. Not after I’d seen your costume. No offence.”

  “None taken.”

  “You have an incredible voice. Do you sing professionally? Other than the singing telegrams, I mean?”

  “Err, no.”

  “You should. If you ever fancy joining a choral society, don’t hesitate to contact us. We’d love to have you join us.”

  “That’s very kind, thank you.”

  That had gone surprisingly well, but then I’d always known that I had a good voice, despite the unwarranted criticism I’d received from others over the years.

  What? Of course I hadn’t resorted to magic. How could you even think such a thing? Snigger.

  Mission accomplished, it was time to check in with Seb. After my stellar performance, there was no reason whatsoever why he should receive any complaints. Unless, of course, someone was pedantic enough to bemoan the lack of blood.

  I gave his office a call and was told he’d nipped over to the Candlefield branch. I figured it might be useful to see the other office, so rather than phone him, I changed back into my own clothes, and magicked myself over there.

  Crazygrams was located above the Pampered Pooches dog grooming salon. That reminded me: Barry was long overdue a trim.

  “Welcome to Crazygrams.” The female werewolf behind the counter was wearing a pretty red beret. “I’m Roz Perry, how can I help you?”

  “Hi, Roz. I’d like a word with Seb. I understand he’s over here at the moment.”

  “What’s your name, please?”

  “Jill Maxwell.”

  “The Jill Maxwell?”

  “Err, yeah, I guess so.”

  “My grandma is a big fan.”

  “Oh? Thanks.”

  “I’ll just go and tell Seb you’re here.”

  Seb appeared a few minutes later, accompanied by a wizard who had his long grey hair taken back into a ponytail.

  “Hey, Jill, how did the gig go?”

  “Not bad, all things considered.”

  “Can I introduce you to a good friend of mine, Eddie Dunston. He’s the owner of Candlegrams who are our main competitor here in Candlefield.”

  “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Jill.” Eddie had a handshake like a wet lettuce.

  What do you mean that’s a rubbish simile? Trust me, if you’d shaken his hand, the first thing that would have popped into your mind would have been a wet lettuce.

  “If you’re competitors, how come you two are such good friends?”

  “We haven’t always been close,” Seb said. “But over the years we’ve come to respect one another, and now we get on like a house on fire.”

  “That’s right.” Eddie nodded. “There’s enough business for both of us.”

  “I’m sorry that I dropped you in at the deep end like that, Jill,” Seb said, once Eddie had left. “I had no idea about the choral society. Did it really go okay?”

  “Yes, but only because I used magic. I had no choice. If I’d sung in my normal voice, that lot would have lynched me.”

  “Any other problems?”

  “None. The organiser was very complimentary about my performance. She even offered me a place in her choral society, so you definitely shouldn’t receive any complaints. If you do, that’ll be further evidence that your suspicions of sabotage are correct.”

  “Thanks again, Jill. I’ll keep you posted.”

  ***

  Back at the office, the whistling noise was still going strong.

  “Any sign of Mr Macabre’s men, Mrs V?”

  “Not yet. I popped down the corridor to see if the people at Clown had any idea when someone would be out to see to it, but they’re as much in the dark as we are.”

  “Great.”

  Winky looked me up and down, and said, “Remarkable.”

  “What is?”

  “I can’t see any sign of tomato stains. How did you manage to dodge them all?”

  “I’ll have you know that they enjoyed my performance so much that they invited me to join their choral society.”

  “See, you can be funny when you want to be.” He laughed.

  “It’s true. The woman said I should seriously consider singing professionally.”

  “Hard of hearing, was she?”

  “I’m not discussing it anymore. Has your friend, Roddy, been back?”

  That wiped the smile off his face.

  “No.”

  “He can’t be the only one of your customers who’s lost fur because of your poisonous energy drink.”

  “It wasn’t poisonous. I told you it was just a mix up with one of the ingredients. I’ve recalled all the bottles. What else can I do?”

  “I’m sure that’ll be a great comfort to all the bald cats out there. It can only be a matter of time before the next one comes gunning for you.”

  “Why did you have to go and say that?” He glanced at the window. “If someone does come looking for me, you’ll have to cover for me like you did with Roddy.”

  “And
why would I do that after you’ve just spent the last five minutes insulting my singing?”

  “I was only joking. You know that. You have a fantastic voice. It’s a wonder no one has signed you to a recording contract before now.”

  “Do you really expect that soft soap to work?”

  “What do I have to do to get you to cover for me?”

  “Remove that.” I pointed to my desk.

  “The decoupage? Why? It looks fantastic.”

  “If you want me to cover for you, the decoupage has to go. And I expect the desk to be restored to its original condition.”

  “But I—”

  “Do it tonight. When I get here in the morning, I expect all trace of the decoupage to be gone.”

  “But, Jill—”

  “Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it.”

  “A hard woman, that’s what you are.”

  Doing my best to ignore Winky’s snide comments and dirty looks, I turned my mind to the Green case. Despite Paula’s insistence that her husband would never commit suicide, I was beginning to think that was the only logical explanation.

  But I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. It occurred to me that I still didn’t know very much about John Green, other than what his wife had told me, so I spent the next hour searching online for any articles that might give me a better insight into her husband.

  I didn’t turn up very much; John Green clearly had not been a man to court publicity of any kind. The few articles I did find fell into one of three categories. Several of them referred to his philanthropic endeavours. As well as leaving a substantial amount of money to charity in his Will, he had also given both time and money to a number of good causes during his lifetime. The second category of articles related to his business, and in particular to the sale of that business to a multi-national corporation. Finally, the vast majority of articles covered his bizarre death. One newspaper had used his suicide as the basis of a feature on the subject of money and happiness. Apparently, there had been three other suicides this year involving high net worth individuals. The article concluded that money couldn’t guarantee you happiness.