SH03 - Whoops! Someone Is On Our Case Page 11
“We need to talk.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you.” She started to close the door, but he wedged his foot in the gap.
“Please, Jade.”
“I told you in my text. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Tell me what I did, and I’ll go. You’ll never hear from me again.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
“I would never date a married man. If I’d known, I—”
“Hold on. Married? You think I’m married?”
“You promised you’d leave if I told you.”
“I’m not married. I’ve never been married.”
“You’re just making things worse.”
“He’s not married.” Neil came over to join them.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Neil. I’m one of Charlie’s flatmates, and I can promise you that this young man is not, and has never been married.”
“Your wife came to see me!”
“What?” Charlie was staggered. “That’s impossible.” It was then that everything started to make sense. “Hold on. This woman? What did she look like?”
After Jade had described Charlie’s ‘wife’, he said, “That was Amelia. We went out together once; she dumped me after she saw the billboard of us together.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Neil said. “That woman is a headcase.”
“I’m so sorry, Charlie.” Jade took his hand. “She was so convincing.”
“It doesn’t matter. Just as long as we’re okay now.”
“Of course we are.” She stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the lips.
“Does that mean we can still go to dinner tonight?” he asked.
“I can’t. I’ve arranged to go to my sister’s now.”
“Oh?”
“We could go out sometime over the weekend though.”
Back at the gym, Draycott was waiting for him by the staff door.
“Nice of you to show your face. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Neil.”
“I gave you fair warning, Charlie. You’re done here.”
“Mr Draycott?” Neil said.
“What?”
Neil cast the ‘forget’ spell, leaving Draycott looking a little confused.
“Are you okay, Mr Draycott?” Charlie said.
“I—err—what was I saying?”
“You told me to take the rest of the day off because I came in early this morning.”
“Did I? Yes, I remember. Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Neil,” Charlie said, once they were back outside. “You’re a star.”
“Am I forgiven for the painting mishap?”
“I forgive you, but I’m not sure Dorothy ever will.”
“I’d better get back to the shop.”
“I’ll see you tonight. I’m going to have a few choice words with a certain witch on the top floor.”
Chapter 14
Dorothy and Molly were behind the counter in the bookshop.
“Have you picked out your fairy outfit yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” Dorothy snapped.
“You’ll make a good fairy.”
“I’m glad you think it’s funny. I was really looking forward to letting my fangs down at the ball, but now I have to prance around in a silly, fairy costume.”
“I bet Donny will think you look hot in it.”
“Do you know how much I care about his opinion?” She pressed her index finger onto the tip of her thumb. “This much.”
“You say that, but I’ve seen the sparkle in your eye when he comes into the shop.”
“Do you want me to make you clean out the stockroom?”
“No, don’t make me do that!” Molly shuddered. “It’s full of cobwebs.”
“Then you’d better drop the Donny nonsense.”
“Okay, I promise. Not another word. By the way, have you noticed a difference since you started taking those Stop B-Urge tablets?”
“Actually, I have. Just recently, I’ve dreaded humans coming into the shop because it’s taken all of my willpower not to attack them. But today, I haven’t even felt a twinge. I’m glad Tilly told me about them. That reminds me, I’m going to have to be careful that Susan doesn’t see them; that human has eyes everywhere.”
“Hold on. I’ve had an idea.” Molly took her handbag from under the counter. “I’ve got a packet of headache tablets in here.” She removed the strips of tablets, and passed the empty packet to Dorothy. “Put your tablets in this. If Susan sees it, she won’t think anything of it.”
“Good idea, thanks.”
“Does that mean I’m excused cobweb duty?”
***
“I’ve found three unsolved murders that have similar MOs to the recent one.” Stella passed Susan a sheet of paper.
“Thanks.”
“You had a phone call from your mother while you were out.”
“Is she okay?”
“She sounded alright. She asked if you’d give her a call.”
“Right, thanks.” Susan studied the notes that Stella had prepared; they made for interesting reading. All three victims had died from wounds to the throat.
“These look promising. Could you try to contact the next of kin, and see if you can arrange for me to speak to them?”
“Sure. When do you want to do it?”
“Anytime—to suit them. The sooner the better.”
“Okay, I’ll get straight onto it. Oh, and I thought you’d want to know that I overheard Dougal and his cronies, talking about you earlier. I didn’t catch what they were saying because they went quiet when they saw me.”
“I doubt they were organising a surprise party for me.”
Susan found an empty office where she could talk without being overheard.
“Mum? I got a message that you called.”
“How are you, darling?”
“I’m fine. Are you and Dad okay?”
“We’re both very well, thanks. I wanted to invite you over for dinner.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Don’t you remember what happened the last time I came over?”
“I’m really sorry about that. Your father should never have tried to interfere with your career. He knows that now.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true. We saw you on the TV; your father was very impressed. And proud. You’re doing a really important job.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“So, will you come over for dinner?”
“Yeah, okay, but I’m run off my feet at the moment. Can I give you a call when things quieten down a little?”
“Of course, but don’t leave it too long.”
“I won’t. I’d better get going.”
“Bye, Susan. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Susan didn’t move from that spot for several minutes; she was still trying to process what she’d just heard. Was it really possible that her father had put aside his prejudices, and might now accept her choice of career? It would be wonderful if that were true, but she was having a hard time believing it.
“Don’t sit down,” Stella said when Susan returned to the office. “I’ve just spoken to the first person on the list—a Mrs Joan Barson. She’s very keen to talk to you, and asked if you’d go around there straight away. I said you would; I hope that’s okay?”
“Sure, why not? I’ll probably go straight home afterwards, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
***
“Nice of you to come back,” Debs said when Neil arrived back at the shop.
“It was an emergency.”
“Of course it was. You’ve got a cheek, expecting me and Fable to do all the work while you’re in the pub.”
“I wasn’t in the pub; I was helping a friend.”
“Now I know you’re lying. You don’t have any friends.”
“Hey, Neil.” Fable appeared from the back of the shop. “I told Kim
about your TV thing; she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“You didn’t buy that story of his, did you?” Debs shook her head. “He’s not going to be on TV.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Neil said. “And to prove it, I’m going to allow one of you two lucky ladies to be my assistant for the audition.”
“Are you tripping?” Debs laughed.
“I’m deadly serious. Every top magician needs a pretty assistant.”
“What would I have to do?” Fable said.
Debs turned to her friend. “Fable, what are you doing?”
“It might be fun. What would I have to do, Neil?”
“Nothing very difficult. You just have to stand next to me, and look pretty. Then, when I’ve performed my illusion, you wave your arms around. You must have seen magicians’ assistants on TV?”
“Hold on!” Debs interrupted. “What would she have to wear?”
“You know—the usual.”
“You mean one of those skimpy costumes, don’t you?”
“Fable has the figure for it.”
Fable blushed. “I’m not sure if Troy would approve.”
“Don’t tell him, then.” Neil shrugged. “This could be your big chance. If I get through the audition, I’ll need an assistant on the TV show. And then there’s Vegas.”
“I have always wanted to go to America.”
“You aren’t seriously considering this, are you?” Debs said.
“It could be fun.”
“Looks like you’ve missed your chance again, Debs.” Neil grinned.
***
It was a fifteen-minute drive to Joan Barson’s house, which was in the village of Smallwash. Or at least, it would have taken fifteen minutes if Susan hadn’t been held up for ten minutes at the toll bridge. The idiot working in the toll booth could not have gone any slower if he’d tried.
“Sixty-five pence, please.” The man held out his hand. He had the worst combover Susan had ever seen.
“Thank you.” She handed him a one-pound coin.
“Don’t you have the correct change? It’s sixty-five pence.”
“Sorry, no. That’s the smallest I have.”
“I’m out of five-pence pieces.”
“That’s okay. Just give me thirty pence change.”
“But it’s only sixty-five pence.”
“I know, but you said you didn’t have any five-pence pieces.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s why I said to give me thirty pence.”
“What about the other five pence?”
“You can keep that.”
“I’m not allowed to take bribes.”
“Bribes? It’s not a bribe. It’s just five pence.”
“I could open myself up to all manner of charges.”
Was this man winding her up? His expression told her that he wasn’t—he was deadly serious.
“Is there a problem?” A man appeared next to her car. “There’s quite a queue building up back here.”
Susan glanced in her rear-view mirror, and realised that the man must be the driver of the car behind hers.
“I’m sorry about this,” she apologised. “I’m trying to pay the fee, but this man—”
“I can’t take a bribe,” Combover interrupted.
“I’m not offering you a bribe. I’m trying to pay you. It’s hardly my fault that you don’t have any five-pence pieces.”
“Maybe I can help.” The man standing next to her car put his hand in his pocket, and fished out a handful of change. “What do you need?”
“Do you have change for a pound?” Susan said.
“Sure. Help yourself.”
She did. “Thanks, very much.”
“No problem. I’m Gerry by the way.”
“Susan. Thanks again.”
“Would you mind hurrying up, lady.” Combover held out his hand. “You’re holding everyone up.”
She somehow resisted the urge to get out of the car, and kill Combover. Instead, she handed over the fee, and drove away.
Joan Barson was watching for her at the window, so the front door was open before Susan was halfway up the drive.
“You have a lovely garden, Mrs Barson.”
“Thank you. Please call me Joan. Terry was a mad keen gardener; I was never very interested. After he died, I thought I owed it to him to continue his good work. I actually quite enjoy it now. Do you like gardening?”
“I live in an apartment; we don’t have so much as a window box.”
“Come on in. I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Will you join me?”
They settled in the lounge with tea and biscuits.
“Thanks for seeing me so quickly.”
“My pleasure. I was surprised when your assistant called. There’s been hardly any interest in Terry’s murder for several years now.”
“What about the police?”
“They get in touch a couple of times a year to reassure me that the case is still open, but I don’t think they’re actively investigating it any longer. I assume they’re waiting for the murderer to walk into the police station and confess. Why is The Bugle interested?”
“Did you hear about the recent murder in an alleyway in Washbridge city centre?”
“Yes, I read about it in your paper.”
“I’m looking at unsolved murder cases over the last ten years that might have a similar MO.”
“Do you think whoever committed this latest murder might have killed Terry too?”
“It’s much too early to speculate. Would you start by telling me what happened on the day your husband was murdered?”
“We went out for a meal in Washbridge that night. It wasn’t something we did very often, but we were celebrating Terry’s birthday. He was fifty-two.”
“Where did you go?”
“A small restaurant, called At Steak. It used to be on Prince Lane, just off the high street, but it closed a couple of years ago. Terry was a smoker; a forty-a-day man. I tried to get him to quit, but he couldn’t. I warned him it would be the death of him, and I was right, but not in the way I’d expected. After the main course, we were waiting for dessert when he said he needed a quick ciggie. Normally, I’d have asked him to wait until after we’d finished, but it was his birthday, so I didn’t make a fuss. He said he was going to nip out into the alleyway at the side of the restaurant, and that he’d be back in five minutes. Anyway, ten minutes later, the desserts arrived, but there was no sign of Terry. I gave him another five minutes, and then went looking for him.”
She stopped talking and took a sip of tea; there were tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry to put you through this, Joan.”
“That’s perfectly alright, dear.” She dabbed her eyes. “If it helps to catch the lowlife who did this to my Terry, it’ll be worth it.” She took a deep breath and continued, “He was lying in the alleyway. He’d been torn to pieces; there was blood everywhere.”
“There were no witnesses, I take it?”
“There was one: a woman. When I stepped into the alleyway, I caught a glimpse of her under the exit light. She was tall with an athletic build, and was wearing an all in one costume—some kind of catsuit.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“I didn’t get the chance. She disappeared.”
“How do you mean?”
“One moment she was there, and the next she’d gone. It was very dark in the alleyway, so I assume she must have run away.”
“I take it the police were never able to track her down?”
“No. I’m not even sure they believed that I’d seen her. I could tell by the way they spoke to me that they thought she was a figment of my imagination.”
After they’d finished, Susan thanked Joan, and promised she’d keep her updated on her investigation. Although Susan hadn’t commented at the time, there was one aspect of Joan’s story in particular that had caught her attention: the mention of the catsuit. When Susan had
encountered the drunk at the scene of the more recent murder, he’d mentioned seeing a man dressed in what he’d also described as a catsuit. Maybe the drunk had mistaken the figure of an athletic woman for that of a man? It was possible, and if it was true, then Susan might have found a link between the two murders.
***
Charlie thumped on the door. “Amelia! Open up! I know you’re in there.” He could hear her moving around inside. “Open up!”
“Oh, it’s you.” Amelia scowled. “Are you lost? Your apartment is on the floor below.”
“Why did you tell Jade that you were my wife?”
“Humans are so gullible, aren’t they?”
“Why did you do it?”
She shrugged. “Because I felt like it.”
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
“No one treats me like you did and gets away with it.”
“I didn’t do anything, and you know it.”
“You two-timed me, Charlie. No one does that to me.”
“You need serious medical help.”
“It’s a pity it didn’t work out for you and the human. Still, I guess there are plenty more fish in the sea.”
“For your information, she’s coming for dinner with me. She knows you were lying.”
“Is that right? I do hope that nothing untoward happens to her. Humans are such fragile creatures, don’t you think?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying it would be terrible if something were to happen to her.”
“If you touch a hair on her head, I’ll—”
“You’ll what, Charlie? Cry like a little baby? Now, if you don’t mind, I have a glass of wine waiting for me.”
Before he had the chance to respond, she slammed the door in his face.
Dorothy was in the lounge; Susan and Neil had not yet arrived home.
“That woman is pure evil!” Charlie came charging into the apartment; he was shaking with anger.
“Who is?” Dorothy said.
“Amelia. She pretended to be my wife, and very nearly got Jade to dump me.”
“I thought you were meant to be going for dinner with Jade tonight?”
“I was until Amelia stuck her oar in.”