SH03 - Whoops! Someone Is On Our Case Read online

  Socky did as he was told, and watched as Neil taped the sponge to the bottom of his wooden leg.

  “Just the ticket.” Neil pronounced himself satisfied. “Let’s give it a test run. Stand up and walk around the room, would you?” Much to Neil’s delight, there was no sound as Socky’s wooden leg touched the floor. “Bingo! I just need to check one more thing, but I’ll do that after breakfast. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Fear not. Tobias will still be here when you return.”

  ***

  The flatmates were all quiet over breakfast; Dorothy was the first to break the silence, “Has one of you stolen my sponge?”

  Susan shook her head. Charlie did the same.

  “Why would anyone want to steal your manky sponge?” Neil screwed up his face.

  “It isn’t manky; I only bought it three days ago. When I went into the bathroom this morning, it had gone.”

  “Maybe the sponge monster ate it.” Neil grinned. “I’ve heard there’s a lot of them around these parts.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re funny? If they did, they were lying.”

  After they’d finished breakfast, Neil grabbed Charlie. “Can you spare me a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Once in Neil’s bedroom, he came clean, “I took Dorothy’s sponge.”

  “Why? She’ll kill you if she finds out.”

  “She won’t find out.” Neil turned to Socky. “Take another walk around the room, would you, Tobias?” Then he turned back to Charlie. “What do you see?”

  “Nothing, but you already know that I can’t see your ghost.”

  “That’s great. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to see the sponge or not.”

  “What have you done with it?”

  “I’ve taped it to the bottom of Socky’s wooden leg to stop the clomping. I hoped that once it was attached to him, it would become invisible too, but I needed to be sure.”

  “What’s this in aid of?”

  “Socky is going to help with my audition. I’d rather you didn’t mention any of this to Dorothy. And particularly don’t tell her about the sponge.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  ***

  Charlie and Dorothy had grabbed a lift with Neil. Charlie was in the front; Dorothy sat in the back. They’d only been driving for a matter of minutes when Neil slammed on the brakes.

  “What are you playing at?” Dorothy shouted. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Wind down the window, Charlie.” Neil pointed to a figure walking alongside them. “Faze! Over here!”

  “Is that the rogue retriever who’s just moved in upstairs?” Dorothy asked, as the woman approached the car.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why are you shouting her over? You can’t give her a—”

  “Hi, Neil.” Faze crouched down next to the car.

  “Are you going into Washbridge?”

  Faze nodded.

  “Jump in the back. I’ll give you a lift.”

  “Thanks.” She climbed in next to Dorothy who looked none too pleased to have company.

  “Hi, you two. I’m Faze. I met Neil when I was moving in. He was kind enough to help me with one of my boxes.”

  “I’m Charlie.”

  Faze turned to Dorothy who said nothing for the longest moment, but then managed to mumble, “Dorothy.”

  “Do you all work in town?”

  “I manage a fancy dress shop,” Neil said.

  “I work at a gym,” Charlie said.

  Once again, Dorothy didn’t speak until Faze turned to look at her.

  “I work in a bookshop.”

  “I imagine that Neil has told you what I do?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Oh yes, he’s told us.” Dorothy scowled.

  “You really don’t have anything to worry about. When I get home in the evenings, I’ve done with work. I promise that I won’t be spying on you.”

  Faze and Neil chatted for the rest of the drive into town. Charlie said nothing. Dorothy fumed silently.

  “You can drop me here, please,” Faze said, as they approached the city centre. The offices are just around the corner.”

  Neil pulled over, and Faze climbed out.

  “Thanks for the lift. It was nice to meet you all.”

  As soon as she was out of the car, Dorothy turned on Neil, “What were you thinking? Why did you give her a lift?”

  “She’s nice. And besides, isn’t it better that we stay on her good side?”

  “She said she wouldn’t be spying on us,” Charlie said.

  “You two are so naive!” Dorothy was becoming more and more exasperated. “You can’t trust the word of a rogue retriever. She wouldn’t think twice about canning any one of us.”

  “She’s pretty, though, isn’t she?” Neil grinned.

  ***

  Stella was already at her desk when Susan arrived at the office.

  “I’ve done what you asked, Susan. I’ve checked on all the unsolved murders for the last eighteen months, but I don’t think the results are what you were hoping for.” She handed Susan a sheet of paper.

  Susan skipped through the report. “None of these have similar MOs to the murder in the alleyway.”

  “I know. Would you like me to go back further?”

  “Not for now. I think this may have been a wild goose chase.”

  A few minutes later, Susan’s phone rang. It was Flynn, asking her to pop across to his office.

  “Morning, Susan. Would you mind closing the door behind you, please?”

  Susan did as he asked, and then took a seat. She could tell by his demeanour that something was amiss.

  “Look, Susan, before I start, I want you to know that I’m on your side. I have the greatest respect for all the work you’ve done so far.”

  “What’s this about? Is something wrong?”

  “I’ve received a complaint about you.”

  “Who from?”

  “I don’t give any credence to it, but I—”

  “Who complained, Flynn?” she demanded.

  “Dougal Andrews.”

  “Dougal?” She laughed. “Are you being serious? What could he possibly have to complain about?”

  “He came in here late last night, and said that you’d stolen one of his stories.”

  “He did what?” Susan thumped the table. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Where is he?” She looked out into the main office, but there was no sign of him. “Which story does he reckon I stole?”

  “Something about a missing person. He said someone called Margie came to him with the story first.”

  “That man is unbelievable! Margie had been coming to see Dougal Andrews for months, trying to get him interested in her story, but he didn’t want to know. He was the one who sent her to me, not long after I started here. As it happens, I’ve discovered that there are far more missing persons in Washbridge than there should be—statistically speaking. I’m taking a closer look at it, but it’s early days, and I don’t really expect anything to come of it. But for Dougal Andrews to suggest that I stole the story, I don’t even know where to start with that.”

  “Take a deep breath, Susan. I only told you because I thought you had a right to know. I told Andrews that instead of wasting time with tittle-tattle, he should be working on stories that are worthy of The Bugle.”

  “I’m going to have a word with that man.”

  “I don’t want any trouble in the office, Susan.”

  “Don’t worry. There won’t be any trouble in the office.”

  Dougal Andrews returned about an hour later. Susan bided her time, and waited until she saw him heading for the toilets.

  Then she followed.

  She kicked open the door, and stormed inside. The room was empty except for Andrews who was just about to go into one of the stalls.

  “What do you think you’re doing in here?” Andrews shouted.

  She walked straight over to him, grab
bed him by the neck, and pushed him down onto the toilet seat. “How dare you question my professional ethics?” She spat the words into his face.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “It looks like it, doesn’t it? You know full well that you wanted nothing to do with Margie or her missing person story. You’d been giving her the brushoff for months before you palmed her off on me. And now you have the audacity to tell Flynn that I’ve stolen your story?”

  “He may have misunderstood what I said.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s just the sort of thing a little weasel like you would do. Now listen, and listen good. If I hear that you’ve said one more thing about me behind my back, I’ll push your head down this toilet, and flush it. Got it?”

  “Okay, okay. Let me go.”

  Susan released her grip, and then walked out of the toilet. Listening at the door were Bob Bragg and two others from the water cooler crew. They took one look at Susan, and stepped aside.

  ***

  It was halfway through the morning. Charlie was just coming out of the staffroom when he noticed that a hunk of a man had Andy cornered at the far side of the gym. It was obvious that the human was coming onto her, and even more obvious that she wasn’t interested. Even from that distance, Charlie could tell that Andy was on the point of turning. If she did that in front of all the humans, she’d be taken back to Candlefield by the rogue retrievers for sure. Not only that, but it would make headlines in every newspaper, and draw unwanted attention to him and the other instructors.

  He dashed across the gym, grabbed hold of the young man, and frogmarched him back to the changing room.

  “You! Get changed, and get your stuff out of here. You’re barred. If I ever see you in here again, I’ll tear you in half.”

  Big as he was, the young man wasn’t about to argue with Charlie. Once the man was out of the building, Charlie hurried back to find Andy who was now in the staffroom, visibly upset.

  “I nearly turned, Charlie. I very nearly turned.”

  “I know. I could see you were about to; that’s why I came over.”

  “It never occurred to me that something like that could happen. Maybe I’m not cut out to work in the human world.”

  “You mustn’t take it to heart. It happens to all of us when we first come over here. It gets easier over time, trust me.”

  “Thanks, Charlie. I really needed to hear that.”

  Chapter 10

  “Don’t look now.” Molly gestured across the road. “I think someone is coming to see you.”

  Dorothy knew who it would be before she even looked. And, sure enough, Donny was on his way over.

  “I think I’ll just go in the back, and tidy up.” Molly scurried away before Dorothy had the chance to object.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Donny winked at her. “You’re looking exceptionally beautiful today.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your old flannel.” Dorothy pretended to busy herself with some paperwork. “I’ve got lots to catch up on.”

  “Molly tells me that there’s a supernatural ball this weekend.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “I thought, as you aren’t seeing anyone, that you might like to go with me?”

  “How do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

  “Are you?”

  “I don’t really see that’s any of your business.”

  “Come on, Dot, it’ll be fun. You know you want to.”

  “For the millionth time, it’s Dorothy. And no, I don’t want to go with you.”

  “I hear you had some fun and games in here last night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mad Matilda?”

  “Molly had no right to tell you about that.”

  “You have to see the funny side.”

  “There is no funny side. That human who lives with us has been nothing but trouble, ever since she moved in.”

  “I could always turn her into a frog for you, if you like.”

  “I’m tempted, but no. Look, I have to get on because I have a ton of things to do.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind about the ball, you know where I am.”

  As soon as Donny had left, Molly reappeared.

  “Thanks for dropping me in it.” Dorothy glared at her.

  “Why didn’t you say you’d go with him?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in Donny?”

  “Until you actually say it with some conviction.”

  ***

  Susan wasn’t sure what to make of the idea that drug dealers might be peddling their wares out of small, local shops. It sounded rather far-fetched, but if there was any truth in it, that would be a very big story. It was the kind of story that could attract the attention of the nationals, which would be good news for The Bugle and its owners. It would also be another feather in Susan’s cap. But for now, all she had to go on were the concerns of Donna Davies, and a comment made by Stella.

  Still, it was certainly worth a half day of her time to investigate, so she started by driving over to the village of Middle Wash. The high street consisted of only eight shops in total; The KeyStop was sandwiched between the butchers and the general store. It looked much like every one of its kind that Susan had seen before; there was certainly nothing to mark it out as a drug den. The village was so quiet that she was able to park directly across the road. During the fifteen minutes that she observed the shop, three cars pulled up outside. Their occupants were inside for only a matter of minutes, and all of them left clutching small, brown paper bags. This struck Susan as rather odd. She would have expected most of the shop’s customers to come from within the village, and therefore within walking distance, but she’d seen no one approach the shop on foot. That coincided with what Donna Davies had said. She’d expressed the concern that since the sudden uptick in trade, most of the shop’s ‘new’ customers seemed to come from outside the village.

  A bell rang when Susan entered the small, dingy shop. There was no one behind the counter, but she could hear footsteps coming from the back.

  “Can I help you?” The young man was wearing a brown smock.

  “Hi, I—err—”

  “Yes?” The young man said, impatiently.

  She put her hand into her pocket, and pulled out her door key. “Could you make me a copy of this, please?”

  “That will be ten pounds.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.”

  He took the key over to a bench where he inserted it into a small machine. While he worked on it, she glanced around the room. The place could have done with a good clean. One thing in particular caught her attention: Behind the counter, near to the door from which the man had emerged, was what looked like a safe. It was quite large; the size of a fridge. Why would a small business like this need such a large safe? The takings from key cutting certainly wouldn’t warrant it. Susan filed that under the heading of ‘suspicious’.

  Within a matter of minutes, the man handed back her original key together with a perfect copy. “Ten pounds, please.”

  Susan gave him the money, took a final look around the shop, and then left.

  Her next port of call was Sterling Wash where the florist that Stella Yates had mentioned was located. In Bloom was situated on the corner of the main street, and once again, Susan was able to park directly across the road, and observe the comings and goings. Over the next twenty minutes, she saw two people enter the shop on foot; both of them left carrying bouquets of flowers. In that same period, three cars pulled up outside the shop. By contrast, their occupants came out carrying not flowers, but small, brown paper bags.

  There was definitely something very strange going on.

  When she entered the shop, Susan was greeted by a middle-aged woman, wearing a floral apron.

  “Good morning.” The woman had a welcoming smile. “Lovely day.”

  “It certainly is.”

  “Special occasion or just to brighten up the hous
e?” the woman asked.

  “Sorry?”

  “The flowers? Are they for a special occasion?”

  And that’s when Susan saw it. At the back of the shop, almost obscured by a display of wreaths, was a safe—identical to the one she’d seen in The KeyStop.

  “Actually, I’m not after flowers.” Susan winked, and then gestured in the direction of the safe.

  “You do know that this is a florist?” The woman looked puzzled.

  “Yes, of course, but I was hoping to get my hands on some—” Susan lowered her voice. “On some of the good stuff?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ll—err—take these.” Susan grabbed a bunch of daffodils, slapped the money onto the counter, and then left.

  She was beginning to think that this story might have legs after all. There was something very odd about the customers that she’d seen leaving the two shops, clutching brown paper bags. But even more suspicious were the identical safes that she’d seen in both shops.

  When Susan arrived back at her offices, she was still mulling over what she’d seen at The KeyStop and In Bloom.

  “Where is Manic’s money?” The little man came creeping out of the shadows.

  “We’ve had this discussion before. You only get paid if and when the story is published.”

  “When will that be? Manic has done his part.”

  “I’ve had my assistant go back through the archives, but none of the unsolved murders in the last eighteen months have an MO anything like the recent murder in the alleyway.”

  “You haven’t gone back far enough. Go back further and you’ll see that what Manic says is true.”

  “How far back?”

  It was too late; the infuriating little man had already disappeared.

  “Did you visit the florist?” Stella asked.

  “Yes, and I visited The KeyStop in Middle Wash too. There’s definitely something strange going on.”