Witch Is Why The Laughter Stopped (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 14) (12 page)

Chapter 20

When we got back in the house, Jack saw my expression. “What?”

“Don’t give me ‘what.’ Why did you say she could partner you?”

“How could I say no? And besides, you weren’t interested.”

“You didn’t try hard enough to persuade me.”

“I shouldn’t have to persuade you.”

“You’re impossible! I need custard creams.”

To my horror, when I checked the cupboard, the Tupperware box was empty. Then I remembered; I’d eaten the last one the previous night. I’d intended to pick some up in Washbridge, but had forgotten all about it.

“I’m going to the corner shop,” I said. “Do you want anything?”

“Will you get me some Marmite?”

“Yuk! How can you eat that horrible stuff?”

“It’s lovely.”

“Says you. I won’t be long.”

I was still fuming as I walked to the shop. I was mad at myself more than anything. Jack was right; it was my own stupid fault. I should have agreed to partner with him. I probably wouldn’t have been so worried if Kathy hadn’t put the idea into my head that I needed to watch Megan around Jack. Anyway, enough of that. The custard creams were calling.

There was no sign of Toby Jugg, the shop owner. A middle-aged woman was standing behind the counter. She had a face as long as a wet weekend.

I was amused to find that the shop was full of BOGOF signs. I’d been the one who had given Toby Jugg the idea of using them.

“Hello there,” I said.

She grunted something unintelligible.

“Isn’t Toby in today?”

“I’m Judy—his wife. Toby’s gone fishing, and left me in charge of the shop. Again!”

“I see you have a lot of BOGOF deals.”

“Don’t mention those to me. I’m sick of all the offers. He’s had me making signs every hour of the day. BOGOF this and BOGOF that. Some stupid woman came in here, and gave him the idea.”

Whoops!

“Aren’t the promotions working?”

“Oh yes, they’ve been a great success, but I’ve got better things to do than make stupid signs. I had to cancel my Zumba class this week.”

I went straight to the aisle where Toby kept the custard creams, but to my dismay, there were none on the shelf.

“I’m after some custard creams, Judy, but there aren’t any on the shelf.”

“There’s a box full on the top there—above the shelving, but I can’t reach them.”

“Don’t you have a ladder?”

“It broke.”

“Right, okay.” I wasn’t sure I believed her—it was much more likely to be a case of chronic laziness.

There was no way I was going back empty-handed—I had to have custard creams. I waited until I was sure Judy wasn’t watching, and then levitated until I was high enough to reach the box. It was rather heavy, but I managed to lower myself and the box back to the ground.

“There you go.” I put it on the counter. “I managed to reach them.”

She gave me a puzzled look which was hardly surprising as the shelving was at least seven feet high.

“I suppose I’d better put some out then. How many packets did you want?”

“Two, no make that three. And a pot of your finest Marmite, please.”

***

Jack had gone to work before I woke up the next morning. It was just as well because I’d been dreaming about him and Megan. If he’d still been home, I would have given him a real tongue-lashing for flirting, even if it was only in my dreams.

I called Jules and told her that I probably wouldn’t be in, and asked her to let me know if there were any important calls. As I was speaking to her, I could hear the sound of knitting needles. She was getting as bad as Mrs V.

I planned to stake out Bar Scarlet. Something weird was going on in there, and whatever it was, it seemed to have affected both Paul and Jessica. I felt sure the answer was to be found in the room behind the black door.

I got there just before ten o’clock, but nothing much happened until midday. From then, there was a steady stream of people in and out of the bar. As before, the majority of them were vampires. The few humans who entered the bar had one thing in common; they all had the same spaced-out look as Paul and Jessica. And they all seemed even more disoriented when they came out.

By mid-afternoon, I’d seen enough. It was time to take a closer look. I waited until the next human arrived. It turned out to be a man in his thirties; he too had the same spaced-out look as all the others. I made myself invisible, then hurried across the road, and followed him into the bar.

It was much quieter than on my last two visits. The man made his way towards the back of the bar. I followed. The vampires, who had blocked my way on the previous occasion, stepped aside to let him pass, and I slipped in with him.

On the other side of the black door was what appeared to be some kind of laboratory. The walls, the floor and the ceiling were all white. I followed the man down a short corridor, at the end of which, he took the door on the right.

We were now in a large room with beds all around the walls. Lying on the beds were humans—some male, some female. Protruding from their arms were tubes, and flowing through those tubes was a red liquid. Someone was taking their blood.

Two vampires, dressed in white smocks, were going from bed to bed, checking each of the humans in turn. Another vampire greeted the young man who I’d just followed. The vampire led him to one of the vacant beds, and proceeded to insert a tube into his arm. All of the tubes fed into a single large tank at the far end of the room.

This was a feeding house for vampires!

I had to wait a further fifteen minutes until one of the humans was allowed to leave. A woman, in her late twenties, was unhooked from the tube, and helped off the bed. She looked completely out of it, and was a little unsteady on her feet. I followed her to the door, and slipped out behind her.

Still invisible, I made my way over to the bar. Just as I’d suspected, the majority of the vampires were drinking blood on tap. Once sated, they simply left the bar.

I had to let Daze know, so as soon as I outside, and a safe distance from the bar, I made myself visible again and called her.

“Daze, it’s Jill.”

“Jill, I’m sorry. I can’t talk at the moment. We’re on the tracks of a rogue werewolf.”

“Okay. Call me as soon as you can, will you?”

***

On my way back to the office, I noticed that ‘She Sells’ was now open, so I crossed the road to get a closer look. There, behind the counter, was a familiar face—one I hadn’t seen for almost six months.

Betty Longbottom looked very different from the last time I’d seen her. She’d shed the dowdy tax inspector look, and was now every inch the hippy. Her assistants were attending to the customers, so I managed to catch Betty’s eye.

“Jill! Long time, no see.”

“Hi, Betty. This is something of a departure for you, isn’t it?”

“It was time for a change. No one loves a tax inspector, as I’m sure you’re aware, so I decided to follow my dreams. When I saw this shop was free, it was like a sign.”

“You must be very excited.”

“I am. It’s a new beginning.”

“I was sorry to hear that you and Luther have gone your separate ways.”

What? Who are you calling a hypocrite?

“Don’t talk to me about that man. He had the audacity to accuse me of stealing one of his seashells. As if I would stoop so low.”

As if? This was the woman who had been shoplifting for years.

The queue of customers now stretched back to the door.

“I’d better let you go, Betty. I can see you’re busy. Good luck with your new venture.”

“Thanks, Jill. Do pop in again.”

I was almost back at the office when I got a call. It was Daze.

“Jill, I’m sorry I couldn’t speak earlier, but I didn’t want to spook the werewolf.”

“Did you get him?”

“Yes, he’s banged up in Candlefield. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Can we meet somewhere?”

“How about Cuppy C in ten minutes?”

“Okay, I’ll see you there.”

When I arrived at Cuppy C, Laura and Flora were working behind the counter in the cake shop. The twins were in the tea room.

“Hi, Jill,” Amber said. “Guess what. We’re going to get a new sign for Cuppy C.”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with the one you’ve got.”

“We need a change.”

“Signs can be very expensive, you know.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. We’re going to pick one up for a song.”

“How are you going to manage that?”

“Voila!” Amber dropped a small catalogue on the table.

“Signs by phone?” I picked it up. “How’s that work, exactly.”

“They have tons of different styles. You pick one, measure how big you want it, and then phone your order through. That’s why they can do them so cheap.”

“I’m not sure about this.” I flicked through the brochure—there was no denying they had a comprehensive range of styles.

“Why not?” Amber said.

“What happens if you get the measurements wrong?”

“We’re not stupid, Jill!” Pearl sounded affronted.

“I know that, but it’s easy to make a mistake.”

“We’ll check and double-check before we phone the order through.”

“Don’t you think it might be better to get the professionals in?”

“These are professionals. Just look at the signs they make.”

“Okay. Just don’t come crying to me if it all goes wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong. You’re just a pessimist.” Amber huffed. “Did you want something to drink, or are you just here to pour cold water on our plans?”

Sting!

“I’m meeting Daze in a few minutes. I’ll have one of your small blueberry muffins, please.”

“You know we only have the one size. Large.”

“Oh well. That will have to do, I suppose. I see you’ve got Laura and Flora working in the cake shop.”

“They’re doing a great job.”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so down on those two?” Pearl asked.

“You’ve really got it in for them.” Amber passed me a muffin.

“I don’t trust them. Not since that day when they were smoking and drinking upstairs. And I’ve seen them talking to Miles and Mindy. Just keep an eye on them—that’s all I’m saying.”

I’d no sooner sat down than Daze arrived. She came straight over to join me.

“What is it, Jill? It sounded urgent.”

“I was recently hired by a woman to follow her boyfriend. She was worried because he’d been acting strange. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I’ve discovered some kind of vampire feeding den.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re taking human blood, and selling it in a bar called Bar Scarlet.”

“You’ve actually seen this?”

“Yes. There’s some kind of lab in the back where they take the blood. It’s then sold on tap in the bar.”

“This is really serious. What about the humans? Are they being killed?”

“No. Once the blood has been taken, they’re allowed back onto the streets. But they look completely out of it.”

“They must be drugging them.”

“That’s what I thought. Why else would they keep going back there?”

“Are you sure about all of this?”

“I’m positive. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“This is terrible. It happened once before about ten years ago, but we thought we’d put a stop to it. I can’t understand how this has happened without us knowing. We usually have good intel on this sort of thing.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Shut them down, and quickly. I need to get moving on this right away.”

Chapter 21

“Do you think Mrs Mopp would iron my shirts?” Jack said, the next morning over breakfast.

“Why can’t you iron your own shirts?”

“I can. But I thought if we’re paying her anyway, and she has a bit of time left, maybe she could iron my shirts as well.”

“If you want Mrs Mopp to iron your shirts, you can ask her. I’m not doing it.”

“You sound like you’re scared of her.”

“You haven’t met her yet, have you? I tell you what, the next time she comes in, why don’t you have a word with her? Ask her if she’d like to iron your shirts.”

“I will. I’m not scared of a cleaning lady.”

“Good for you. Good luck, buddy.”

He put a large spoonful of mushy corn flakes into his mouth, and then mumbled something unintelligible.

“I’m sorry? Was that English?”

He eventually managed to swallow the corn flake mush. “I said, Kathy’s taking a long time making her mind up about the snow globe, isn’t she?’”

“She said she wanted to show it to Peter and the kids before making a decision.”

“It’s a wonder Kathy ever gets anything done. If it takes her this long to make her mind up whether she wants a snow globe, how on earth did she and Peter ever decide to get married and have kids?”

“Kathy can be a bit scatter-brained. Don’t worry about it. I’ll give her a call to remind her.”

What was I going to do about the stupid snow globe? If Snow Limit didn’t have it, I was never going to find one, and it was way too expensive to have one custom made. The only other option was to shrink one of the houses in Candlefield, and put it in a globe.

What? I was only joking. Of course I wouldn’t do anything like that. Sheesh! What do you take me for?

When I glanced out of the front window, I spotted Mr Hosey coming down the road on his silly little train. He pulled up outside our house, walked to the back carriage, took out one of the train-stops, and plonked it smack bang in the centre of our driveway, just as he’d done before. Right! I’d show him! When he started towards the cab, I cast the ‘move’ spell, and the train-stop gradually slid down the road until it was clear of our driveway.

He was about to climb into the cab when he glanced back, and did a double-take. I ducked down so he wouldn’t see me. When I looked up again, he was moving the train-stop back in front of our driveway. As soon as he started back to the cab, I did the same again. This time, when he saw the sign had moved, he looked up and down the road, trying to figure out who had done it. Once again, I ducked out of sight. When I looked up this time, he’d climbed into the cab. He’d obviously admitted defeat. Moments later he set off down the street.

As I drove into Washbridge, I noticed a bus coming in the opposite direction. By now, I was used to seeing Grandma’s advertisements everywhere, but there was something different about this one. Where it should have said, ‘Ever A Wool Moment,’ it now said, ‘Never A Wool Moment.’ And below the name, it read, ‘Too expensive. Poor quality. We hate our customers.’

What was that all about?

As I continued my journey, I kept my eyes peeled for more buses or taxis. Every one I saw carried the same advert. Could it be some kind of perverse marketing campaign by Grandma? Was it reverse psychology? No, this looked more like sabotage to me. Someone had changed the adverts. Grandma would go crazy when she found out.

As I stepped into my office building, I bumped into Brent and George from I-Sweat.

“Hi, guys.”

“Hello there,” Brent said.

“Hi, Jill.” George flashed me a smile.

“How’s it going, you two? When do you open?”

“It won’t be long now,” George said. “We’d still like to take over your office. I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do to change your mind, is there?”

“No. I’ve already given you my reasons.”

“Fair enough.” George shrugged. “Is there any chance we could get you to take your name off the door?”

“Why would I do that?”

“We thought you could put
‘Private – Staff only’
on it instead. That way our customers would think it was part of the health club.”

“And how would new clients find me?”

“Hmm? I hadn’t thought about that.”

It was supposed to be Mrs V’s day in, but both she and Jules were sitting at her desk—both knitting as if their lives depended on it.

“Morning, you two. I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Jules.”

“I decided to come in to help Mrs V. She has to get these scarves ready for Armi’s fundraiser.”

“That’s very kind of you, isn’t it, Mrs V?”

“Very.” Mrs V rolled her eyes, and then followed me through to my office.

“You have to send her home, Jill.”

“But, I thought she was helping you?”

“Helping? She keeps asking
me
to help
her
because she drops a stitch every five minutes. I’m never going to get anything done at this rate.”

“You can’t throw kindness back in her face.”

“I know, but she’s driving me insane. It’s not just the dropped stitches. She’s been talking nonstop about her new young man. Jed or Jeff or something like that.”

“Do you mean Jethro?”

“That’s him. From what I can gather, he’s asked her out on a first date. Don’t you just hate young love?”

After she’d got everything off her chest, Mrs V went back to the outer office. All the time I’d been talking to her I could hear noises coming from behind the screen. Winky was obviously still hard at work on his time machine.

“How’s it going, Winky?” I popped my head around the screen.

“I’m just putting the final touches to it. Anytime now, it’ll be finished.”

“I hope you’ve got your money ready for when it proves to be another of your disasters.”

“We’ll see. You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face soon.”

At least Winky had remembered to remove the parcel tape from the door of the cuckoo clock. It was just as well because if Mrs V had seen it, I would have got it in the neck.

***

The next name on my list of people, living in the human world, who had died from laughing was a Chrissy Knowles. She’d lived in Lansdale which was over a hundred miles from Washbridge. It wasn’t worth my while to drive over there, but I’d managed to get her phone number, so I called her widower.

“Is that Dominic Knowles?”

“Speaking.”

“I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. One of the cases I’ve been working on has led me to look at the recent spate of deaths from laughing. I understand your wife, Chrissy, died that way.”

“That’s right, she did.”

“Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

“Of course not. I’ll help if I can.”

“Was she normally the sort of person who laughed out loud?”

“Chrissy? No, not at all. She was a very quiet woman. Very shy. She had a lovely smile, but rarely laughed.”

“What about in the days prior to her death? Had anything out of the ordinary happened? Had she shown any sign of illness?”

“No, nothing like that. In fact, only the night before she died, we went to the local club. Chrissy wasn’t keen. She wasn’t a big fan of comedians.”

“A comedian? You don’t happen to remember his name, do you?”

“Yes, it was a man called Lenny Hope. I thought he was hilarious. So did everyone in the place except Chrissy. She didn’t laugh, and said afterwards that she hadn’t found him funny. The next day, I got a phone call at work. Chrissy had been at the hairdresser when she suddenly started laughing for no reason at all—laughing hysterically. The next thing, she collapsed and died.”

“I’m very sorry to have brought back such bad memories, Mr Knowles.”

“That’s all right. Is there a reason you’re asking these questions? Is there something suspicious about these deaths?”

“It’s too early to say, but I promise I’ll keep you posted.”

Chrissy Knowles had been to see a comedian the day before she died, and so had Gloria Cloverleaf. That warranted further investigation, so I searched online for Lenny Hope, and found his website. He was a strange-looking man with long, curly hair. He was wearing sunglasses in the photograph. Also on the website were details of all the cities and towns where he’d played over the last two years. They included Dover and Pontypridd—two of the towns where people had died from laughing. Normally, that would have pointed to some kind of connection, but when I’d spoken to Carrie Monroe about her husband, John, she’d told me that they’d been to see a band, not a comedian.

I gave her a call.

“Carrie, it’s Jill Gooder. I came to see you the other day.”

“Oh yes. Hi, Jill.”

“Look, can I double-check something you told me? You said the night before your husband died, you’d been to see a band. Did I get that right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’m just following a few leads. I thought I might be onto something, but maybe not.”

“Yeah, we got there earlier than planned, and caught a bit of the opening act. A comedian.”

“You don’t remember his name, do you?”

“Not offhand. I thought he was really funny. John didn’t.”

“It wasn’t Lenny Hope, was it?”

“That’s him.”

“Thanks, Carrie. Thanks very much.”

I took a closer look at the photo of Lenny Hope. The pieces were now starting to slot into place, but to be absolutely sure, I would need to speak to Elizabeth Tagg, Mabel Beauford’s friend. I gave her another call with little or no expectation of her answering.

“Hello?”

“Is that Elizabeth Tagg?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“Hi. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m—”

“You’re the level seven witch, aren’t you?”

“Sort of. Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I understand you were a friend of Mabel Beauford?”

“That’s right. Mabel and I had been friends since we were teenagers. Such a tragedy.”

“Her husband gave me your number.”

“That waste of space? I don’t know why Mabel didn’t leave him. I’d told her she could move in with me, but she was too proud to accept my help. Anyway, what did you want to speak to me about?”

“I understand you and Mabel went out the night before she died.”

“That’s right, we did. That’s what I don’t understand. She seemed fine that night.”

“Could I ask where you went?”

“We went to see a comedian at Candlefield Social. I thought it might cheer Mabel up, but she barely cracked a smile all night.”

Eureka!

***

When I arrived at Cuppy C there was a long queue outside the door. It took me a few seconds to work out that the doors were locked. That’s when I spotted the sign:

Sups Eat Free

I burst out laughing, but then spotted Amber and Pearl staring at me, stony-faced, from inside the shop. Amber gestured for me to go around to the back entrance.

“It’s not funny, Jill.” Amber snapped after she’d let me in.

“I know. I’m sorry. No one knows better than me how problematic signage can be.”

“I can’t believe they did it.” Amber shook her head in disbelief. “Why would we call the shop ‘Sups Eat Free’?”

“How on earth did it happen?”

“The man on the phone was as deaf as a post. He must have taken down the name wrong.”

“Didn’t he read it back to you?”

“Actually, I didn’t speak to him.”

I looked at Pearl.

“I didn’t speak to him either.”

“So who did order the sign?”

“We had to go out,” Pearl said. “We needed new shoes for our housewarming parties. We left the order with Flora and Laura to phone through.”

“Where are they, anyway?”

“We sent them home when we closed the shop.”

“Why did you close the shop?”

“Because everyone who came in expected to eat for free.”

“What did Laura and Flora say about the cock-up?”

“They were the ones who told us that the man on the order line had been hard of hearing.”

Alarm bells were starting to ring.

“Why didn’t you stop them putting the sign up when you saw their mistake?”

“We weren’t in when they came to install it. We were shopping for handbags.”

“For the housewarming parties?”

“Precisely.”

“Surely, Flora and Laura were in?”

“They were, but they were busy serving customers. They didn’t see the sign until it was up, and by then the men had left.”