WPI31 - Witch Is How The Biscuits Disappeared Read online

  “I’m not joking.”

  “You’ll have to come up with much better than that to fool Winky.” He went back to thumping the punch bag.

  ***

  The cases were beginning to pile up. From a financial standpoint, that was great news, but the logistics were a bit of a nightmare. Norman’s case, in particular, was problematic. Suspected infidelity cases required around the clock surveillance, but that wasn’t something I could do alongside my other workload.

  I wasn’t worried though because I’d had a brainwave.

  What do you mean: Oh dear?

  I’d arranged to meet Daze at Cuppy C. She was already at a table when I got there, so I went to the counter to order my coffee.

  “Six-pounds-fifty, please,” Amber said.

  “How much?” I assumed she was having a laugh.

  “That includes the coffee and muffin you didn’t pay for yesterday. You hadn’t forgotten, had you?”

  “No, of course not. In fact, I was just about to remind you.” Drat! Foiled again. “Is Belladonna still off ill?”

  “No, she’s upstairs in the creche. She seems to have got over the food poisoning, thank goodness. I’m not sure I could have faced another day in the creche. One child at a time is more than enough for me. I don’t know how Belladonna manages it.”

  “Hmm.” I had to bite my tongue because I knew the twins weren’t interested in hearing anything bad about Belladonna.

  “Thanks for coming, Daze. I hope I didn’t drag you away from anything important.”

  “That’s okay. Blaze and I are having a well-deserved rest in-between cases. How about you? Are you busy at the moment?”

  “Very. In fact, that’s the reason I gave you a call. I’ve just taken on a case that needs someone to carry out surveillance pretty much around the clock. There’s no way I can do that and work on my other cases too.”

  “Couldn’t you hire someone to help?”

  “That’s what I plan to do, but the thing is, I don’t need someone on a permanent basis. Only when this type of case crops up. My father had the same problem when he was running the business, and on the few occasions he did bring someone in, it rarely worked out well.”

  “I’m not sure where I come in?”

  “It was the surveillance imps that gave me the idea. I was wondering if you could recommend a sup who might be interested in the work.”

  “I see.” She thought about it for a moment. “There is someone, but—no, I don’t think it would work.”

  “Tell me, please.”

  “A few years back, when we had more work than we and the imps could handle, we sometimes brought in a fairy called Edna. She’s retired now, so she probably wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Could you at least ask her?”

  “I can, but you need to know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Edna can be—” She hesitated. “How shall I put this? A pain in the bum. She’s a cantankerous old biddy.”

  “But is she any good at her job?”

  “The best. She always got results.”

  “She sounds just what I need. Would you give her a call and see if she’s interested?”

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  As Daze and I wound up our conversation, I spotted Belladonna coming downstairs and leaving the shop, presumably on her lunch break.

  I followed her, and just as on the previous occasion, she stopped off at the market to purchase a bunch of purple and black flowers, and then made her way to the unmarked grave in the Shadows.

  This time, though, I made no attempt to hide.

  “Jill?” She almost dropped the flowers when I approached her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I followed you.”

  “Why?”

  “I know this is your mother’s grave.”

  She placed the flowers in front of the headstone. “What of it?”

  “I also know who she was, and what she did.”

  “Oh?”

  “Is that all you have to say for yourself? Oh?”

  “What else am I supposed to say? You’ve no doubt already made up your mind about me. Just like everyone else has done before.”

  “She stole the souls of hundreds of children, just so she could remain young.”

  “Do you think I don’t already know that?”

  “And yet, you put flowers on her grave.”

  “I’m sickened by what she did, but—” Her words faded away.

  “But what?”

  “But she was still my mother.”

  “And from what I’ve seen, you’ve inherited her power over children. No wonder you’re able to control them so easily. When did you plan on stealing their souls? Or have you done that already?”

  “Of course I haven’t.” She slumped onto her knees and began to sob uncontrollably. It was several minutes before she recovered her composure enough to speak. “I suppose you’re going to tell the twins?”

  “Of course I am. And the police too.”

  “It’s the same every time.” She got to her feet. “Sooner or later, someone realises who my mother was, and this happens. I’m tried and convicted without ever being given a chance to defend myself.”

  “It’s indefensible.”

  “What my mother did was indefensible, I agree. But I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Yes, I do have a certain way with children, but I’ve never abused that ‘power’ if that’s what you insist on calling it.”

  “And you expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “Of course I don’t. No one ever does. But if you took the time to do the research, you’d find out that I’m telling the truth.”

  Much as I found her mother’s actions abhorrent, I didn’t believe that a child should be punished for the sins of their parent.

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “What do you mean?” She wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Prove to me that the children have nothing to fear from you.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “You can start by giving me details of the places you worked in the human world.”

  “I’ve never worked in the human world.”

  “But you told the twins that you had.”

  “I lied. I had to say that because I knew that if they contacted the places that I’ve worked here in Candlefield, they’d be told I was sacked, and that would have been it. Game over.”

  “So why would it be any different if I contacted them now?”

  “It won’t be unless you actually talk to the owners of those businesses. Ask them if there were ever any problems with any of the kids under my care. There weren’t. Not once.”

  “Why were you sacked, then?”

  “Because someone found out about my mother. Just like you have. They were scared of what I might do. But I would never hurt a child. I couldn’t.”

  “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. First, you’re going to give me details of every place you’ve worked with children here in Candlefield. Then, you’re going to call Amber and tell her you’re still having problems with your stomach. That you came back to work too early, and you need to take a few days off.”

  “But she’ll sack me.”

  “No, she won’t. Not if she thinks you’re ill. The twins think you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

  “Do they really?” She smiled for the first time.

  “Yes, but that won’t save you if I find out there was even a hint of trouble at any of the places I contact.”

  “You won’t. I promise.”

  ***

  Oh boy!

  Mr Claymore hadn’t been exaggerating about the green cars. Every third car on the lot was now green. All sizes, all models, there didn’t seem to be any particular pattern.

  “Hi, there.” A young man approached me. He was wearing a sharp suit and pointy shoes. “Were you looking for something in particular?”

  “Actually, I was hoping to find something green, but you don’t seem to have any green cars.”

  “But, I—err—” He gave me a puzzled look, and probably wondered if I was colour-blind.

  “It’s okay. I’m just pulling your leg. I’m not looking to buy a car. Your boss, Mr Claymore, has asked me to investigate the green car thing.”

  “Right. Sorry. He told me he’d hired a private investigator, but I was expecting a—err—”

  “A man?”

  “I guess so. Sorry. I’m Ronnie, but everyone calls me Grease.”

  “Like the movie?”

  “Sort of. I used to be a mechanic, and I was always covered in the stuff. That was before I moved into sales.”

  “How are sales, anyway?”

  “Not great. ‘Green’ cars are the big thing at the moment, but not this kind of green car. My commission this month is going to be half what it normally is. I hope you can sort this out.”

  “Me too. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

  “Fire away. It’s not like we’re overrun with customers.”

  “Do you know Sandy Gascoigne?”

  “No. He left before I started here. In fact, it was his job that I took over. I believe he’s working for Washbridge Prestige Motors now.”

  “What about Wilde Cars? Do you know much about them?”

  “Not really. Only that they’re the competition. Mr Claymore hates those guys. Do you reckon they’re behind this?”

  “It’s too early to say. When was the last car taken away?”

  “It was that one over there.” He pointed to a Ford Fiesta. “They took it last Thursday, and when we got here yesterday morning, it was back. It used to be black. I can sell black Fiestas all day long, but no one will even look at it now.”

  “I assume the cars always disappear at night?”

  “Usually, but not always. Do you see that Mondeo, three rows back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That one disappeared while I was on my lunch break.”

  “And no one saw anything?”

  “Nothing. It makes no sense to me. I can’t work out how they’re doing it.”

  Me neither. “Is Mr Claymore in today?”

  “No. Tuesday is his golfing day.”

  “Can you do me a favour, Ronnie—err—Grease?”

  “Sure.”

  I handed him my card. “The next time a car disappears, call me, would you?”

  “No problem.” He glanced at my car, which was parked on the road, in front of the lot. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in a new motor? It looks like you could do with one.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my car.”

  “You should leave it here. If you’re lucky, it might get a free respray. It certainly needs one.”

  “Are you always this cheeky with customers?” I grinned.

  “Only when I know there’s no chance that they’re going to buy anything.”

  Chapter 5

  When I got back to the office, Mrs V was wearing a pained expression.

  “What’s wrong, Mrs V?”

  “I’m listening to see if it happens again.”

  “If what happens again?”

  “There’s been a strange noise coming from down there.” She pointed to the floor.

  “What kind of noise?”

  “A sort of rumbling sound.”

  I listened for a while, but I couldn’t hear anything.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t your stomach?” I grinned.

  “I know what I heard, Jill. I thought we were having an earthquake or something.”

  “Okay. Well, whatever it was it seems to have stopped now.”

  Sometimes, I worried about Mrs V.

  I expected to find Winky working out on the punch bag, but there was no sign of him anywhere in the office. Perhaps he had another meeting with the professor to discuss their new top-secret project.

  My two o’clock appointment would be here at any moment. Cheryl Warne had said she preferred not to tell Mrs V the nature of her business. I just hoped it didn’t turn out to be another infidelity case.

  Before she arrived, Daze called.

  “Jill, I’ve just spoken to Edna, and she says she might be interested, but she’d like to meet you before she commits to anything.”

  “Fair enough, but I’m keen to get this sorted asap. Where does she live?”

  “Actually, she suggested she came over to your office.”

  “Better still. When?”

  “She said she could come over later today if that works for you?”

  “That’s fine. I have a new client coming in any minute now. How about four o’clock?”

  “I’ll let Edna know. If you don’t hear from me again, you can assume she’ll be there at four.”

  “Okay, and thanks for doing this, Daze.”

  “No problem. Just remember what I said about Edna. She can be hard work, but she gets results.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get on famously.”

  ***

  Cheryl Warne was a bag of nerves. If it hadn’t been for the man standing by her side, who was supporting her by the arm, I doubt she would have made it through the door.

  “Could I get a glass of water, please?” she said, through dry lips.

  “Of course.” I went through to the outer office. “Would you get Mrs Warne a glass of water, please, Mrs V?”

  “Of course. Is she okay? She seemed to be hyper-what’s-it-ing.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’m sorry about this.” Cheryl took a sip of water. “This business has got me rather rattled.”

  “That’s okay. Take your time.”

  “I should introduce myself.” The man looked like he’d just finished working on a fashion shoot for an up-market men’s magazine. His hair was immaculate, his skin blemish-free and his suit must have cost a king’s ransom. “I’m Jonathan Langer.”

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  We shook hands, and I was surprised to see that his fingernails were bitten to the quick. They seemed strangely out of place on someone who clearly spent so much time and money on his appearance.

  Cheryl took another sip of water. “It’s my husband, Robert. He’s been kidnapped.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Last Friday.”

  “Have you informed the police?”

  “No. The note said if I contacted them that he’d be killed.”

  “I told Cheryl she should go to the police,” Langer said.

  “Are you a relative?”

  “No, I’m Robert’s business partner. I told Cheryl that you can’t mess around in cases like this, and that she should contact the police immediately.”

  “I’m not going to the police!” She had found her voice. “They’ll kill Robert.”

  “What do you think, Mrs Maxwell?” he said.

  “It’s Jill, and yes, I do think you should go to the police, but Robert is your husband, so it’s your call.”

  “I’m not going to the police.”

  “Do you have the note with you?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think to bring it. My head’s been in such a spin.”

  “Not to worry. Maybe I could pop around to your house to pick it up?”

  “Of course.”

  “What does the note say?”

  “That I have two weeks to raise a million pounds. And that they’d be in touch again with further instructions.”

  “Does anyone know about this other than the two of you?”

  “Just Simon Richards,” Cheryl said.

  “Who’s he?”

  “He’s Robert’s best friend. They’ve known each other since university. He was supposed to be playing tennis with Robert on Saturday. He came to the house to pick him up, and found me in pieces. I had no option but to show him the note. He was the one who said I should contact a private investigator. To be perfectly honest with you, I wasn’t keen on the idea. I just wanted to pay the ransom.”

  “Can you raise that kind of money?”

  “It won’t be easy, but yes. Just about.”

  “Can you tell me exactly how your husband was taken?”

  “It was while we were at the cinema. Do you know the new multiplex that opened recently?”

  “Yes. In fact I was there with my husband on Sunday. We went to see Red Storm.”

  “That’s what we were watching too. It’s not really my cup of tea, but Robert was keen to see it.”

  “Are you saying that your husband was snatched while you were inside the cinema?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Surely there must have been witnesses?”

  “Not as far as I’m aware.”

  “What happened exactly?”

  “We had called at the pub for a quick drink on the way to the cinema. I had a soft drink because I was driving. About half an hour into the movie, I had to nip out to the bathroom.”

  “Right?”

  “When I got back to my seat, Robert wasn’t there. I thought at first that he must have gone to the loo as well, but after fifteen minutes, when he still wasn’t back, I started to get worried.”

  “Are you sure you went back to the right screen?”

  “I’m not stupid. Who would forget which screen they were in?”

  Who indeed?

  “Sorry, that was a silly question. What happened next?”

  “I tried to phone him, but he didn’t pick up. I didn’t know what to do, so I went back to the car, and drove home.”

  “Did you expect to find him there?”

  “I’m not sure what I expected, but by then, I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. When I got back to the house, it was empty, but I did find the note on the floor in the hall.”

  “The ransom note?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What does your husband do for a living? Where does he work?”

  “He’s a property developer. All very small scale stuff.”

  “I see. And what about you? Do you work?”

  “Yes. I’m the managing director of Joma Cosmetics. The business has been in my family for generations.”

  “I see. How long have you and Robert been married?”

  “Just under five years.” She wiped away a tear. “It’s our wedding anniversary next month. Do you think you’ll be able to help, Mrs Maxwell?”