Whoops! All The Money Went Missing (A Susan Hall Mystery Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Whoops!

  All The Money

  Went Missing

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2017

  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 1

  “This is getting really old,” Dorothy complained, as she took a bottle of synthetic blood out of Tilly’s fridge.

  Dorothy, a vampire, lived on the floor below Tilly. She shared an apartment with three other flatmates: Neil—a wizard, Charlie—a werewolf, and Susan—a human. Susan’s arrival had come as something of a shock. Until then, the whole apartment block had been home exclusively to supernatural creatures (or sups for short). Like most vampires living in the human world, Dorothy satisfied her thirst for blood by drinking the synthetic variety. Until Susan had moved in, Dorothy had kept her supply of blood in the fridge in her apartment, but she’d been forced to move it. It now resided in Tilly’s fridge. Like Dorothy, Tilly was a vampire.

  “I’ve already told you that I don’t mind you keeping it up here.” Tilly yawned; she was only half awake.

  “I know you don’t, but it’s a real pain in the butt, having to keep going up and downstairs.”

  “Why don’t you buy one of those mini fridges, and put it in your bedroom?”

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Dorothy took a long drink from the bottle, and then wiped her lips. “Are they expensive?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so.”

  “How do I know that Susan won’t look inside it?”

  “She won’t. Not if it’s in your bedroom.” Tilly took a bite of her toast. “Have you managed to get a taste of her blood, yet?”

  “No, and I don’t intend to try again.”

  “That still ranks as one of the funniest things I’ve heard all year. You using a needle to try to soft-feed off her.”

  “I’m glad you thought it was funny.”

  “I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when Susan woke up, and found you on your hands and knees, holding a needle.”

  “Can we change the subject? I’m trying to forget about that.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk about your love life instead.”

  “That’s going to be a very short conversation.”

  “Isn’t it time you found yourself a fella? I haven’t seen you with anyone since you moved over from Candlefield.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m picky.”

  “There’s picky.” Tilly held her hand at waist level. “And then there’s you.” She raised her hand above her head. “What about Neil?”

  “You must be joking.”

  “What’s wrong with him? He’s a good-looking guy.”

  “He’s not my type.”

  “What exactly is your type? Would you ever date a human?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I have enough problems with one human in my life.”

  “You should try online dating.”

  “I’ve always thought that was a bit creepy.”

  “No, it’s not. Not if you know what you’re doing.” Tilly took her phone out of her pocket. “Look.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s an app called Vamped. It’s a matching service exclusively for vampires.”

  “How does it work?”

  “It’s similar to the ones that humans use. You set up a profile, and it displays potential matches based on the criteria that you’ve entered. You reject the ones you don’t like, and select the ones you do. Where there’s a match, you’re given the option to arrange a meet.”

  “It sounds a bit dodgy to me.”

  “I’ve used it, and there wasn’t a problem.”

  “You’ve actually hooked up with someone using that app?”

  “Yeah. Three different guys, actually.”

  “And they didn’t turn out to be serial killers?”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I? Two of them weren’t my type—too boring. But the other guy was okay. I saw him a few times. It all depends what you’re looking for.”

  “I’ll give it some thought.” Dorothy checked her watch. “I’d better get going; Neil is giving me a lift this morning.”

  ***

  Neil was in his new bedroom. It had originally been Susan’s room, but he’d been forced to swap with her. The room was haunted by a one-legged ghost named Tobias Fotheringham—better known to the three original flatmates as Socky. His presence in the room meant it was much colder than the rest of the apartment. The temperature, and the constant knocking of Socky’s wooden leg on the floorboards, had resulted in Susan calling in a paranormal investigator. Neil had managed to persuade Socky to vacate the room when the investigator had come calling, but Susan had threatened to fetch him back in when the problem persisted. The only course of action left open to Neil had been to swap bedrooms with Susan. Now, he was the one who had to put up with the cold and the knock, knock, knocking of Socky’s wooden leg.

  “That can’t be right.” Neil shouted at his phone.

  “What seems to be the matter, young man?” Socky came hobbling over. “And why are you shouting at that little box in your hand?”

  “There’s no money left in my account.”

  “You’ve been robbed?” Socky looked around the room. “Where did the thief go?”

  “No, I haven’t been robbed. I’m just broke. Again.”

  “So, why are you yelling at that little black box?”

  “This is my phone.”

  “What does it do? This ‘phone’ contraption of yours?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Let’s just say it’s the bearer of bad news.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the words. Just wait until you wake up one morning, and someone tells you that you’ve lost your leg, and
that you’re dead. Now, that’s what I call bad news.”

  Neil slid the phone back into his pocket. “And I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

  “Too much coffee?”

  “No. It was that stupid wooden leg of yours. Do you really have to walk up and down all night long?”

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Such as? What could you possibly have to worry about? You’re dead. It’s not like you’ve got any money worries, is it? I’ve got plenty of them, starting with how I’m going to pay this month’s rent.”

  “I may be able to help you there.”

  “How can you help?”

  “You said you needed money? I just so happen to know where there is a considerable amount of it.”

  “What are you going on about?” Neil sighed. “I have to get to work. Dorothy will be waiting for me.”

  “So, I take it you aren’t interested?”

  “Do you really have money?”

  “I have gold.”

  “Real gold?”

  “Is there another kind? When I was the owner of this factory, I always kept a secret stash of gold. Just for emergencies, you understand.”

  “Did you keep it in this building?”

  “Of course. Where else?”

  “It’ll be long gone now. Someone will have found it when they redeveloped this building.”

  “I very much doubt that. From what I can see, the main walls of the building remain unchanged. The gold is in a small gap between layers of bricks.”

  “And you’re prepared to tell me where it is?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Neil!” Dorothy knocked on his door. “Hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

  “Coming.” Neil turned back to Socky. “Where is the gold?”

  “All in good time, young man. All in good time.”

  ***

  Charlie had gone into the gym early that morning. They ran special classes for the early morning commuters, and it was Charlie’s turn to take one.

  Meanwhile, back in his bedroom, the two starlight fairies were squabbling—as usual.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Greta said.

  “Of course it is,” Bunty insisted.

  “If Charlie wanted to ask Amelia out, he would have done it himself.”

  “Charlie? Ask a woman to go out with him? Are you being serious? He’s terrified of women.”

  “Even so, I don’t think he’s going to thank us for sending a note to Amelia, pretending it’s from him.”

  “He need never know.”

  “When she tells him about the note, he’ll soon work out we’re behind it. And then we’ll be in trouble.”

  “You worry too much, Greta. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “Okay, but if this all goes wrong, it’s on your head.”

  Between them, they managed to pull a sheet of paper from the A4 pad that Charlie kept on the desk in his room.

  “Go on then,” Bunty said.

  “Why do I have to do it? This is all your idea.”

  “You know what my spelling is like. We don’t want to give Amelia a bad impression, do we?”

  “I suppose not.” Greta took to the air. “How should I address her?”

  “How about: ‘Hey, sexy’?”

  “You can’t say that. Charlie is going to be embarrassed enough as it is. How about: ‘Dear Amelia’?”

  “Boring!”

  “It’s not boring. It’s polite.”

  Greta flew over the sheet of paper, sprinkling fairy dust on it as she went. The sparkly dust formed words on the page.

  “What next?” Greta shouted.

  “You could write: ‘You and me? How about it?’” Bunty suggested.

  “No. That’s terrible.”

  “You come up with something, then.”

  “How about we say: ‘I really enjoyed talking to you over coffee the other day. Would you like to go out with me, sometime?”

  “That’s more or less what I said.”

  Greta flew back and forth across the paper, and the words slowly began to form.

  “How shall I sign it?” she asked.

  “What about: ‘Later, babe’?”

  “I don’t think so.” Greta spelled out the words, ‘Best wishes, Charlie’.

  “Best wishes?” Bunty scoffed. “That’s guaranteed to turn her on.”

  “If you want to change it, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

  “It will have to do, I suppose. You grab the top left hand corner.”

  Greta did as she was told, and Bunty took hold of the opposite corner. Between them, they were able to drag the sheet of paper up into the air, and out through the window. Moments later, they flew into Amelia’s apartment.

  “Where shall we leave it?” Greta said.

  “Over there, on the floor. It will look as though Charlie has pushed it under the door.”

  ***

  It seemed to Susan that every morning the apartment was a little untidier than the day before. It was beginning to drive her crazy. She’d never come across anyone as untidy as her new flatmates. Her first attempt to introduce a housework rota had been something of a disaster. Someone had folded her rota into a paper aeroplane. She’d caught Charlie with it in his hands, but she didn’t think he was the guilty party. It just wasn’t the kind of thing he would do—Charlie was way too nice. Susan felt sure that Dorothy had been the culprit, and that Charlie had taken the fall for her—typical Charlie.

  Rota or no rota, Susan was determined to put some kind of system in place. She couldn’t carry on living like this, and she certainly wasn’t going to do all the cleaning herself. If it meant she had to make herself even more unpopular, then so be it.

  Chapter 2

  The only exercise Susan seemed to manage these days was her walk from the car to the lift when she arrived at work. She was about halfway across the car park when a familiar figure appeared out of the shadows.

  “Do you have to jump out like that?” Susan’s heart was pounding.

  “Did Manic make you jump?” The creepy little man, who had an annoying habit of talking about himself in the third-person, had tried to sell ‘leads’ to Susan.

  “Do you actually live down here?” she said.

  “Wherever Manic lays his hat, that’s his home.”

  “That’s great. Now, what do you want?”

  “Manic is very disappointed in you. He gave you the chance of a big story, but you didn’t take him up on it. That’s why he took it to the other newspaper.”

  “I saw the article.”

  “Didn’t Manic tell you he had the best stories in Washbridge?”

  “What is it you want, exactly?”

  “Manic has decided to give you another chance. Manic is a great believer in second chances.”

  As abhorrent as she found this horrible little man, Susan was well aware that having a number of reliable sources was a valuable asset to any investigative reporter. And although very few reporters would admit to using sources such as Manic, Susan knew from experience that most of them did. He had already proved that he had an ‘in’ with the right people—or maybe that should be the ‘wrong’ people. The story that their competitor, The Wash, had run was precisely the kind of story that Susan was on the lookout for.

  “What do you say?” He pressed. “Are you going to work with Manic?”

  “Maybe.” She hesitated. “But I have certain conditions.”

  “Manic is listening.”

  “Firstly, no cash up front. Ever. You only get paid if and when the story is published.”

  “Manic agrees.”

  “And nothing illegal. If I get even a whiff that you’ve broken the law, then all bets are off.”

  “You won’t. Don’t worry.”

  She noted that he hadn’t said he wouldn’t break the law—just that she wouldn’t get a whiff of it. “So? Have you got something for me?”

  He looked around furtively. “Manic
will have something tomorrow. Something juicy.” With that, he disappeared back into the shadows.

  Every time she encountered that man, she was left feeling dirty.

  “Is that your boyfriend?”

  The voice made Susan jump. She turned around to find Dougal Andrews standing behind her. He was wearing that stupid smug expression of his.

  “Morning, Dougal.”

  “You could do better than that, Suzy.”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend. I don’t know who he is.”

  “Say no more.” Dougal tapped his nose. “A nod’s as good as a headline.”

  Susan wondered if Dougal knew Manic, but wasn’t about to ask.

  Stella Yates normally greeted Susan with a smile and a ‘good morning’, but today she didn’t even notice Susan walk into the office—she was too busy staring down at her desk.

  “Stella, are you okay?”

  “Morning, Susan.” She forced a smile. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “Are this crowd giving you problems again?” Susan gestured down the office.

  “No. Since you sorted out Bob Bragg, they’ve all been on their best behaviour.”

  “What’s the matter then?”

  “It’s looking like I might have to give up my house.”

  Before Susan could ask why, Flynn called to her.

  “Sorry, Stella, I’d better go and see what Flynn wants. Can we grab a coffee, later? You can tell me all about it then.”

  “Sure.” Stella nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Flynn was looking as happy as Susan had ever seen him look.

  “Take a seat, Susan.”

  He closed the door behind her.

  “You’ve made a great start,” he said. “I’ve had word back from the owners—they’re delighted.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “The challenge now is to keep up that standard.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know that. Is there anything you need from me?”

  “There is one thing.”

  “Go on. I’m listening.”

  “An assistant here in the office would be handy. Someone who could do all the grunt work: research, chasing down leads—that kind of thing. And to take calls when I’m out of the office.”