Witch Is How Dreams Became Reality (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 32) Read online

  Witch Is How

  Dreams Became Reality

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2019

  The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 1

  It was Monday morning, and I’d left the house earlier than usual. It wasn’t that I particularly needed to be at work early, but I couldn’t stand to hear another one of Jack’s lame jokes about my tap dancing, or my drenching in the water tank. My cunning plan to escape TenPinCon had backfired big time, but for one reason and one reason only.

  Grandma!

  I was determined to get my revenge on her, but that would be a whole lot easier said than done.

  Still, at least TenPinCon was behind me now. There was no reason I should ever have to think about it again.

  “Morning, Jill.” The cucumber hand puppet in the toll booth took my cash.

  “Morning.” I willed the barrier to lift so I could be on my way.

  “I had no idea you were so talented.” Mr Ivers popped his head up. “I thought you should have won that talent contest.”

  Oh no! “You saw it, then?”

  “Of course. It made unmissable TV. How they voted that sword swallower above you and your tap dancing, I’ll never know. You should have registered an objection.”

  “I was happy with second place.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn to dance. I don’t suppose you’d consider giving me lessons, would you?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m really—”

  “I’d pay of course.”

  “I was going to say that I’m really too busy at the moment.”

  “Maybe at a later date when things quieten down?”

  “Maybe, we’ll see.”

  “I hope so. I can’t help but feel that I’d be very good at it.”

  He started to bob up and down, and although I couldn’t see his feet, I assumed he was attempting to tap dance.

  “The barrier, please, Mr Ivers. I am in rather a hurry.”

  “You won’t forget about the lessons, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  ***

  At least the office would be a safe haven. Mrs V wasn’t the kind of person to watch trivial news items such as the coverage of TenPinCon.

  “Morning, Jill.” She was knitting. “Did you see the local news this morning?”

  Oh bum! “No, and before you ask, I’m not giving tap dancing lessons.”

  “Sorry? I don’t understand.”

  “You said you’d been watching the local news?”

  “I meant that awful car crash. You must have heard about it?”

  “No, I haven’t seen the news today.”

  “A young couple. They’d just got married and were on the way to the reception in the limousine when it crashed. They were both killed outright.”

  “That’s terrible. It just goes to show that when your time’s up, your time’s up.”

  “Quite. What was that you were saying about tap-dancing lessons?”

  “Err, nothing. It doesn’t matter. Do you think you could rustle up a coffee for me? I left the house without having one this morning.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  “Jack was getting on my nerves.”

  “Oh dear. I hope you didn’t leave without making up. You never know what might happen. Just look at that poor couple.”

  “We haven’t fallen out; he was just being a bit of a pain. It was nothing serious. Will you bring my coffee through?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  Winky was rolling back and forth on my desk, and he was laughing so hard there were tears in his eye.

  “You have to see this.” He pointed to the screen. “It’s the funniest thing I’ve seen all year.”

  “What are you watching?” I had bad vibes even before I reached the desk.

  “Watch!”

  On-screen, there was an image of me on the stage at TenPinCon, perched on a chair above the water tank.

  “I don’t want to watch.”

  “Wait! Look!”

  On screen, the last of the tenpins was knocked over, and the chair threw me forward into the water.

  “Turn it off!”

  He ignored me and instead rewound the footage, and this time, played it in slow motion.

  “Is that your grandmother standing in front of the tank?”

  “Yes, she was the one who ‘volunteered’ me for the ducking stool.”

  “You must have done something to upset her. What did you do?”

  “Nothing. Much. That water was freezing.”

  He rewound the footage and played it again. “Too funny.”

  “That’s enough.” I snatched the mouse and closed down the browser. “I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

  “Fair enough.” He jumped off the sofa. “I can see you’re upset.”

  “Do you promise not to mention it again?”

  “You have my word.” He disappeared under the sofa, but quickly reappeared.

  Wearing tap shoes!

  “That’s not funny!”

  “What do you think?” He tapped his way across the room. “Fred Astaire, eat your heart out.”

  Thankfully, the tap dancing seemed to wear Winky out, and twenty minutes later, he was fast asleep under the sofa. Maybe now, I could finally forget about the tap dancing and the soaking.

  My phone rang; it was Kathy.

  “Have you dried off yet, Jill?”

  “Did you call for anything in particular?”

  “Not really. I just wanted to say how impressed Pete and I were at the way you threw yourself into TenPinCon. You’re usually such a misery guts when you go anywhere.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. You aren’t normally one to volunteer for stuff. I still can’t believe you kept the tap-dancing quiet. I was saying to Pete that I should get you to give me lessons. It’d be a great way to get fit.”

  “I really am busy this morning, Kathy.”

  “Sorry, I just thought you’d like to know that the kids had a wonderful time on Saturday.”

  “Yeah, it seemed like it.”

  “Lizzie wants to take up tap dancing too.”

  “I suppose Mikey wants to as well?”

  “No, all he can talk about at the moment is dogs. He wants one, but we’ve told him he can’t
have one because there’s no one in the house during the daytime, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave a dog alone for such long periods.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “Not very well, as you can imagine. It seems that his two best friends both have dogs. We’ve told him he can have a pet, but that it will have to be something that can be left alone during the daytime. I think we may have talked him around.”

  “Sorry, but I really do have to get going.”

  “Okay. Catch you later.”

  ***

  My first new client of the week was a Mrs Forrest who had called earlier that morning, in a bit of a flap.

  In her late forties or maybe early fifties, she looked like the kind of woman who would normally wear a lot of makeup but hadn’t bothered that day.

  “Can I get you a drink, Mrs Forrest?”

  “Sorry? No, I’d rather get started.”

  “As you wish. What brings you here today?”

  “It’s about my son, Laurence. He’s been arrested for murder.”

  “Who is he supposed to have killed?”

  “They say he murdered Alison—his wife, but he would never do anything like that. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

  “When was he arrested?”

  “Last Friday. I’ve been looking after Adam since then.”

  “And Adam is—?”

  “Laurence’s son; my grandson. He’s only three. He doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, the poor little lamb.”

  “Does he know his mother is dead?”

  “Not yet, no. Fortunately, he was staying at our house the night it happened.”

  “Is it usual for the boy to stay at your house?”

  “Yes, he stays with us most Fridays, so that Laurence and Alison can have a little time to themselves.”

  “Do you feel up to talking me through what happened?”

  “Not really, but I’ll do my best.” She took a few moments to gather herself. “Like I said, it happened last Friday. From what I can make out, Laurence and Alison had had an argument, and Laurence had stormed out. He went for a walk to try and calm down. When he returned to the apartment, a couple of hours later, he found Alison—.” That seemed to tip Mrs Forrest over the edge, and she began to cry.

  “Here.” I passed her the box of tissues I kept for such occasions. “Take your time. There’s no hurry. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

  I waited until she was ready to continue.

  “Laurence called the police, and then he called me.”

  “How did Alison die?”

  “She was beaten around the head. Laurence was hysterical on the phone. He just kept saying she’s dead and there’s blood everywhere. I didn’t know what to do. I just kept thinking about Adam, who was upstairs just a few yards away. The poor little boy had lost his mummy.”

  “Has Laurence been charged?”

  “Yes, just when I thought the nightmare couldn’t get any worse, I heard he’d been charged with Alison’s murder.”

  “Did he confess?”

  “No! Why would he do that? He didn’t kill Alison.”

  “I understand that, but sometimes people in these situations are so confused that they’ll—”

  “Well, he didn’t. The police seem to have just decided he murdered her.”

  “On what evidence?”

  “I don’t know. No one will tell me anything.”

  “When did you last speak to Laurence?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How was he?”

  “How do you think? He’s devastated by Alison’s death, he’s worried about Adam, and he’s scared of what is going to happen to him. Can you help me, Mrs Maxwell?”

  “Yes, of course. And please call me Jill.”

  “Thank you, Jill. I didn’t know what to do. It was a neighbour who suggested I contact a private investigator, and I found your name online.”

  “Do you feel up to answering a few more questions, Mrs Forrest?”

  “Of course. And it’s Sheila.”

  “Okay, Sheila. Let’s start with your son’s apartment. I’ll need to take a look around there.”

  “The police won’t let me go inside. I tried yesterday, but they turned me away. They said it should be released in a few days.”

  “Let me know as soon as it is. What does your son do?”

  “He’s a manager at an electrical retailer. That reminds me, I don’t imagine anyone has told them that he won’t be in.”

  “Don’t worry about that just now. What about Alison? What did she do?”

  “She was a solicitor at West & Partners. Family law.”

  “Do you know any of Alison’s close friends?”

  “She has a few, but the only one I know by name is Rachel Somers. They were work colleagues.”

  “Okay. You mentioned that there had been an argument on the night that Alison was murdered.”

  “It was nothing. All couples argue, don’t they?”

  “Of course. But how was the marriage generally? Any problems that you were aware of?”

  “No. They were really happy together, particularly since Adam arrived.”

  “You’re sure about that? This will work best if you’re completely honest with me.”

  “I’m positive. I’d have known if anything was wrong.”

  “Okay.” I could see she was getting more and more upset, so I decided not to push it any further.

  ***

  “Coo-ee, Jill.” Harold, the pigeon, was peering through the open window.

  “Morning, Harold. Were you looking for Winky? He’s fast asleep under the sofa.”

  “Actually, it was you I wanted to talk to.”

  “Oh?”

  “First, though, I’d like to introduce you to my missus.” He glanced along the ledge. “Ida, come here. Don’t be shy. Jill doesn’t bite.”

  Moments later, a slightly smaller pigeon edged into view.

  “Hello, Ida,” I said.

  “Hi. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “I hear we’ve been neighbours for some time. I had no idea you were living there.”

  “We may not be for much longer,” Harold said.

  “Oh? Why’s that? Do you have a new place lined up?”

  “We wouldn’t be moving through choice, Jill.”

  “Why then?”

  “We heard on the pigeonvine that the landlord of this building is having those awful spike things put on all of the ledges.”

  “Really? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. Are you sure?”

  “My source is usually reliable. Don’t get me wrong, Jill, we understand why two-leggeds feel the need to install those spikes, but most pigeons are like us, very house-proud. It’s just the inconsiderate minority that give the rest of us a bad name. This whole business has got Ida really upset.”

  “I love it here,” she said. “It’s the nicest spot we’ve ever lived. I can’t bear the thought of having to move after we’ve spent so long getting it just as we like it.”

  “I really am sorry to hear about this, but I’m still having difficulty in believing my landlord would do it. He hates spending money on anything.”

  Not long after Harold and Ida left, I had to shut the window because the heavens had opened.

  “I hate this weather.” Winky crawled out from under the sofa. “It does nothing but rain around here.”

  “Think yourself lucky that you’re in a cosy, warm office. Poor old Harold and Ida are outside in all weathers.”

  “It doesn’t seem to bother them.” He stretched.

  “They were here while you were asleep. They’re worried they might have to find a new home.”

  “Why? You didn’t threaten to start charging them rent, did you?”

  “Of course I didn’t. What do you take me for?”

  “I know what you’re like. Anything to make a quick buck.”

  “That’s rich comi
ng from you. They’ve heard the landlord is having spikes installed on the window ledges around the building.”

  “Macabre? Are they sure? That man’s as tight as a duck’s—”

  “That’s what I said, but Harold was adamant it’s true.”

  “In that case, you’d better do something about it.”

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “You’re a witch, aren’t you? You’ll think of something.”

  “The spikes thing might not even be true. I’ll wait until I’ve heard it direct from the horse’s mouth.”

  Mrs V popped her head around the door. “Jill, while you were on the phone, Mr Macabre called. He’s coming to see you tomorrow.”

  Apparently, the horse had something he wanted to tell me.

  Chapter 2

  I’d said that I’d pop over to Aunt Lucy’s later that afternoon but seeing as I had nothing spoiling at that moment, I thought I might as well pay her a visit now. And besides, Winky had just put on his tap shoes again. There was a limit to how much of the soft-shoe shuffle I could take in one day.

  I’d expected to find her in the kitchen, but instead, I heard the sound of the TV coming from the lounge. Aunt Lucy was so engrossed in whatever it was she was watching that she didn’t even notice me walk into the room.

  “Aunt Lucy?”

  “Jill?” She jumped. “I didn’t realise you were there.”

  “What’s that you’re watching?”

  “Come and sit next to me. It’s Candle Place. You must have heard of it?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  “It’s Candlefield’s longest running daytime soap. I watch it every day if I can.”

  “I wouldn’t have had you down as a soap fan.”

  “I’m not normally, but I love this.” She pointed to the screen. “Michael has just asked Rosemary to marry him. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “I guess. Shall I go and put the kettle on?”

  “I do hope she says yes. Michael loves her so much.”

  This was a whole new side to Aunt Lucy that I hadn’t seen before. She was so engrossed in the soap she hadn’t even heard me ask about the tea, but I decided to make it anyway.

  I was still waiting for the kettle to boil when she came to join me in the kitchen.