by Adele Abbott
“Hmm.” She obviously wasn’t convinced.
***
Mrs V was clearly stressed out, and I didn’t need to ask her why. That awful whistling noise was still going on.
“Can’t you do something about it, Jill?”
“It doesn’t look like anyone else is going to. I’ll go and see if I can find out what’s causing it.”
From the earlier conversation I’d had with Kimmy, it was clear that the noise, whatever it was, was coming from up on the roof. At least this time it wasn’t raining, so I didn’t have to worry about slipping on the tiles. It was only after I’d edged my way over to the section of roof immediately above the Clown offices that I realised the whistling sound had stopped.
That horrible noise had been going on for days. How come the moment I stepped onto the roof, it suddenly stopped?
I was still trying to figure out what to do when a small figure came over the apex of the roof and slid down to where I was standing. For a moment, I thought it was Ron Dadoo, the gargoyle who had conned me into buying sugar mice for him, but as they got closer, I realised this gargoyle was much smaller. She was prettier too. And yes, I do realise that a pretty gargoyle is something of an oxymoron.
“Hi.” The gargoyle got to her feet. “I’m Britany.”
“Hello, there. I’m Jill. I came up here to see what was causing that dreadful whistling noise. You don’t happen to know, do you?”
“That was the gutter geese.”
“The what?”
“Gutter geese. Three or four of them have been hanging around here for a few days now, but I just shooed them off.”
“What’s a gutter goose?”
“They come from the sup world and, as the name suggests, they build their nests in gutters.”
“Why do they make that awful whistling sound?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“It’s driving us insane down below.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Are they likely to come back?”
“For sure. Once they find a spot they like, they always return to it.”
“That’s just great.”
“If they’re bothering you, I could shoo them away every time they come back. They’ll eventually get fed up and find another nesting spot.”
“Would you be prepared to do that?”
“I’d be happy to for a small payment in kind.”
“What kind of payment? Not sugar mice?”
“Yuk, no. Those things are disgusting. I’d like a few liquorice sticks.”
“How many is a few?”
“Fifty should do it.”
“Fifty?”
“Would you rather put up with the whistling?”
“Definitely not. I can’t stand any more of that. Just out of interest, Britany, are you a friend of Ron Dadoo?”
“Dadoo?”
“Ron. Ron Dadoo, do you know him?”
“No, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of him.”
“Okay. Wait here while I go and get the liquorice sticks.”
“No problem.”
There was no point in my wandering around Washbridge city centre, in the hope of sourcing liquorice sticks. Not when I knew exactly where I’d be able to get some.
I magicked myself to The Corner Shop where Little Jack was looking much happier than the last time I’d seen him.
“Jill! How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“If you came in to thank me for saving your life, it really isn’t necessary.”
“Actually, I—err—”
“I wasn’t going to let a punk like that threaten my customers. Gun or no gun.”
“You were very brave, Jack.”
“Thank you. I was a little worried that the ordeal might have left you and the other customer shaken.”
“I hadn’t even realised anyone else was in here.”
“He was hiding behind the sacks of cat litter. The poor man was left in a state of shock. He kept saying the gun had turned into a feather duster.”
“Oh dear. I hope he gets better soon. Anyway, the reason I’m here is to purchase some liquorice sticks.”
“How many would you like?”
“Fifty, please.”
“My, you really do have a sweet tooth, don’t you?”
“Actually, they’re not for me.”
“It’s only a few days ago that you bought all those sugar mice. I don’t want to do myself out of business, but I really do think you should take it easy.”
It took a while, but I eventually managed to convince Little Jack that I was eating a balanced diet and taking care of my dental hygiene. Only then, did he allow me to purchase the liquorice sticks.
When I arrived back on the office roof, Britany was sunbathing.
“I’ve got your liquorice sticks.”
“Thanks.” She snatched the bag from me and began to count them.
“They’re all there.”
“It never does any harm to check. Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, yeah, all present and correct.”
“So, you’ll keep the gutter geese away?”
“You have my word on it. There’ll be no more whistling sounds.”
“Great, thanks.”
When I got back to the office, Mrs V was looking much happier. She wasn’t the only one: Kimmy, who was standing next to her, was beaming from ear to ear.
“When Annabel told me you were going to try and sort out the whistling problem yourself, I wasn’t optimistic, but you came up trumps. What was causing it?”
“It—err—was a—err—pipe which had come loose. The wind was blowing down it and making that awful row. I managed to secure it.”
“A pipe? Where?”
“On the roof.”
“You’ve been up on the roof?” Kimmy looked horrified. “Wasn’t that dangerous?”
“Jill’s always up there,” Mrs V said. “She knows no fear.”
“Jimmy and I are very grateful. We had to cancel our classes. It wasn’t fair to expect students to work under those conditions. Now you’ve sorted the whistling noise out, we’ll be able to restart them tomorrow.”
“No problem. You might want to give Mr Macabre a call to tell him his services are no longer required.”
“I’ll do that as soon as I get back to the office.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re a gargoyle,” Winky said.
“Charming. You’re no oil painting yourself.”
“I meant the amount of time you spend up on the roof. What were you doing up there?”
“Getting rid of that whistling noise. You can thank me later.”
“What was causing it?”
“Gutter geese.”
“Butter what?”
“Gutter with a ‘G’. Gutter geese.”
“If you say so. And you’re welcome, by the way.”
“For what?”
He pointed to my desk which was now minus the decoupage.
“Thank you. That looks much better. By the way, what happened with that friend of yours? Bob the Bin?”
“It’s Donny the Dustbin. His old mum, Mo the Mouser, has been conned out of most of her life savings by those scumbags at FelHealth. They convinced her to buy more and more product and recruitment material, and she didn’t know how to say no. She hasn’t managed to sell a single thing, so needless to say, she’s pretty upset.”
“Poor thing. What’s she going to do about it?”
“There’s nothing she can do, but I plan on going around there, and punching someone’s lights out.”
“That won’t get her money back.”
“Maybe not, but it’ll make me feel a whole lot better.”
“Hold on. There has to be a better way.”
“Such as?”
I thought about it for a moment, and then it came to me. “I have a plan.”
“Cunning? Ingenious? Elaborate?”
“All of the above.”
By the time I’d finished outlining my plan, Winky had calmed down and agreed not to resort to violence. He did, however, need to do a little research before we could put the plan into action, so while he attended to that, I turned my attention back to the Green case.
While I’d been out, Paula Green had dropped off her husband’s phone. According to his friend, Mike Morley, John Green had taken a call just as they were about to go through to the pool. I was clutching at straws, but I was hoping that call might throw some light on what had caused John Green to take his life in such a dramatic way.
I was out of luck. Not only was the last call displayed as ‘number unknown’, but when I’d tried to call it, the number was no longer in service.
What now?
I was seriously considering telling Paula Green that I’d run out of leads, and that in my considered opinion, her husband’s death had been suicide, but then I remembered the articles I’d read that had mentioned other recent suicides by wealthy people, who seemingly had had everything to live for. Was it possible there was a connection? It was extremely unlikely, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The first article related to a Mr Philip Moore who had been a successful property developer. Described as a multi-millionaire, he’d stepped out in front of a tube train and had been killed instantly. The article focussed mainly on his wealth, and made much of the theme that money could not buy happiness. Much more interesting, though, were the comments attributed to his widow. Julie Moore was quoted as saying that she didn’t believe her husband would have committed suicide, and that he had everything to live for. Despite that, a subsequent inquest into his death had concluded that he’d taken his own life.
The next case involved a woman named Valerie Stead who had made her fortune in financial software. The company she’d started fifteen years ago had been sold for an obscene amount of money only a few weeks before she committed suicide, by throwing herself into a swollen river. Her husband, Roy, was quoted as saying that he was heartbroken and couldn’t understand why she would take her own life.
Both of the tragedies had similarities with John Green’s suicide.
But so what? There was nothing to suggest these three people were in any way connected to one another. The only thing they had in common was their wealth and unexpected suicide.
I printed off the articles and took them through to Mrs V.
“Would you try to get hold of the widow of Philip Moore, and the widower of Valerie Stead to see if they’d be willing to talk to me?”
“What shall I say it’s about?”
“Tell them I’m working on a case involving an unexplained suicide, and that I’d like to learn more about what happened to their spouses.”
“Okay, I’ll get straight onto it.”
I’d just walked back into my office when Seb called.
“Jill, we’ve just taken a booking for two of our grams to do a combined gig.”
“Is that usual?”
“No, that’s why I called. I don’t remember anyone ever asking for more than one gram to perform on the same gig. There’s something about this booking that doesn’t feel right. Then again, that could just be my paranoia.”
“Why don’t I go with them? It can’t do any harm.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“When is it?”
“On Thursday.”
“Text me the details and I’ll be there.”
Chapter 16
Ever since we’d agreed on the plan, Winky had been behind the screen, talking on his phone.
“Yes!” He re-appeared with a broad grin plastered across his face. “I’ve found him!”
I’d tasked Winky with tracking down FelHealth’s biggest distributor in or around the area, and judging by the look on his face, he’d been successful.
“You located him then, I take it?”
“Much better than that. I’ve set up a meeting with him tomorrow at his house.”
“How did you wangle that?”
“I told him that I’m currently one of the top ten distributors for CatWellness.”
“What’s CatWellness?”
“I just made it up. I said I had a downline of several hundred agents who I could bring with me, and that I was looking for a suitable sponsor to take me under their downline.”
“I’ll pretend I know what that means.”
“It means that he was falling over himself to set up a meeting with me. He’s worried that if he doesn’t, I might sign up under another distributor. So, I’m going to his place tomorrow.”
“You mean we are going.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant, partner.” He jumped onto my desk and gave me a high five. “And we’re going to take those crooks down bigtime.”
My phone rang.
“Kathy, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
“How could they do it, Jill? Lizzie is going to be heartbroken.”
“What’s happened?”
“You know I told you that one of the other mothers was making the costumes for the play?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s left it to the last minute to decide that she can’t get them all done in time. Lizzie’s is one of those that isn’t finished.”
“Oh dear. Does Lizzie know yet?”
“No. I’ve only just found out myself. She’ll be devastated when I tell her. I’m not really sure why I called you. I was just so angry that I needed to vent to someone.”
“That’s okay. Look, I might be able to get hold of a pixie costume.”
“You? Where would you get one from?”
“I have my sources.”
“If you could, that would be brilliant.”
“Don’t say anything to Lizzie just yet. Wait until I get back to you.”
“Okay. Thanks, Jill. You’re the best sister in the world. I’ve always said so.”
“Hmm. By the way, do you remember Swotty Dotty from school?”
“Who?”
“Dorothy Payne, as she was back then. She was in my year and she came top in every exam.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I bumped into her in town yesterday. She and her husband have just moved back here from London. And it turns out that Swotty Dotty wasn’t a swot after all. She was just a great big cheat.”
“Why do you do that, Jill? Why do you call people by those horrible nicknames? Last time, it was Lottie Baines.”
“Spotty Lottie?”
“There you go again.”
“Sorry, you’re right. It’s just the way I remember them from school.”
“So how was Dorothy doing it?”
“Doing what?”
“You said she was cheating in the exams.”
Chalk up another one for me and my big mouth. “She—err—used to make crib notes on her arms. All the way up both of them. Anyway, I’d better get going.”
“Let me know how you get on with the pixie costume. I’m relying on you now.”
No pressure then.
***
Some time ago, I’d helped a pixie by the name of Rhoda Riddle whose son, Robbie, had become involved with a shady outfit called The Human Experience. Robbie had been desperate to live in the human world, but that wasn’t an easy thing for pixies to do because of their size. At around six inches tall, they were unlikely to go unnoticed. The Human Experience had promised to transform pixies into humans, but what they’d actually done was to place pixies inside human ‘shells’. The whole thing was a con and had had disastrous consequences for several pixies who had ended up in a coma. Fortunately, I’d managed to rescue Robbie, and I’d been instrumental in getting The Human Experience closed down.
Rhoda lived in Pixie Court, which was in the Pixie Central area of Candlefield. Like all the surrounding houses, hers was tiny, so I had to shrink myself before knocking on the little red door.
“Jill, it’s so lovely to see you again. Do come in.”
“Thanks. H
ow’s Robbie doing?”
“Really great. He and Maddy are married now.”
“That’s fantastic. Is he still obsessed with going to the human world?”
“No, thank goodness. The so-called Human Experience knocked all that out of him, once and for all.” She poured me a cup of pixie tea, which was every bit as delicious as I remembered.
“Thanks for offering to help at such short notice, Rhoda.”
“It’s my absolute pleasure. After what you did for Robbie, it’s the very least I could do. I’ll go and get it for you now.”
Moments later, she returned holding a pretty green pixie dress. “How will your young niece get into this?”
“I’ll use magic to make it bigger. If that’s alright with you?”
“Of course it is.”
“I’ll return it to its normal size before I bring it back.”
“Don’t be silly. There’s no need to return it. Lizzie is welcome to keep it.”
“That’s very kind.”
Before returning to the human world, I decided to drop in at Cuppy C, to see how the twins’ new loyalty scheme was working.
I took one look at Amber’s face and I had my answer.
“I don’t know what to do, Jill.”
“What’s wrong?” I joined her at a table at the back of the shop.
“How am I supposed to know if someone is entitled to a free drink or not?”
“Under the loyalty scheme, you mean? Don’t the customers have cards? I thought you stamped them every time someone bought a drink?”
“We don’t have a stamp. We just make a cross on the card in pen. Everyone who comes through the door seems to have a card full of crosses, so the only way to ensure they’re genuine is to check all the entries in these notepads.” She picked up one of the two A4 pads from the table, and then slammed it back down again.
I flicked through the pages of one of them. “That’s going to take forever.”
“Tell me about it. I’ve being doing it all morning and I ended up with a queue outside the door. In the end, I was forced to abandon it, so now I have to give a free drink to everyone who has a card full of crosses.”