Witch Is When Things Fell Apart (20 page)

Chapter 25

I sat with the winner of the level one competition while the rounds for levels three through to five played out. Although the witches at level three didn’t seem that much more advanced, it was a totally different ball game at levels four and five. They brought ‘focus’ to a whole new level. The complexity, power and accuracy of the spells which they performed were mind-blowing.

“How are we meant to compete against that?” the level one winner said.

“We’re not. They don’t expect us to win the final. We’re just there to make up the numbers.”

“No witch under my supervision is there to make up the numbers!” Grandma said.

“Oh, hello, Grandma. I didn’t see you there.”

“Watch and learn.” She pointed a crooked finger at the level five competitors who were down to the last two.

Thirty minutes later, and it was time for the grand final. The winners from each of the five levels stood side by side as we were once again introduced to the cheering crowd. Now I knew where the twins and Aunt Lucy were seated, I could see them cheering and waving their arms in the air.

The format was similar to the heats except that in each round the spell would be taken from the same level as the round number, so in round one the spell was a level one spell.

The head judge announced that the spell would be ‘faster’. This would be a very simple spell to judge because we were all required to run to a given point on the other side of the Spell-Range and back. Each of us would be timed, and the slowest eliminated. It came as no major surprise that we finished in order of our levels. I finished next to last, and the level one witch was eliminated. In the second round, a level two spell was to be selected. The judges chose the ‘Grow’ spell. Maybe I did have a chance. I’d done rather well with that spell when I’d visited the Spell-Range with the twins, but there was far more pressure this time. We moved a few yards along the wall to a plot where four saplings had been planted. Again, this would be an easy spell to judge. The witch with the shortest plant after the spell had been cast would be eliminated. I glanced over at Grandma who mouthed the word: ‘focus’.

The judge gave the command to start and I cast the spell. I kept my eyes closed until the command to stop was given. When I opened my eyes, I quickly studied the four trees. Those in front of the level four and five witches were much higher than mine, but there was barely anything between mine and that of the level three witch.

The judges all studied the trees, and then conferred among themselves.

“Level three witch, Norah Lane is eliminated.”

Norah shook my hand, and said, “Well done. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

I was now completely out of my comfort zone. Not only was I dealing with spells a level above mine, I was dealing with spells I’d never seen before. The head judge announced that I’d be allowed five minutes to study the ‘propel’ spell. In essence, the spell allowed us to propel an object through the air. The test was how accurately we were able to do that.

Grandma started to walk towards me, but was blocked by one of the officials. I was on my own. The spell was many times more complex than the ones I was used to. I wasn’t even sure I’d have it memorised in time, let alone be able to perform it with any accuracy. While I was studying the spell, three huge targets were wheeled into place approximately fifty yards away. At the same time, three huge metal spears were plunged into the soft ground in front of us.

“Time is up.” The judge announced. “On my command, you must take control of the spear and fire it at your target.”

I’d never performed a spell like this one, and I was terrified. Not of messing up the spell—I could live with that. I was worried that my spear might miss the target and hit someone in the crowd.

“Are you ready?”

I was tempted to deliberately make a mess of the spell, so that the spear would remain stuck in the ground, but the thought of what Grandma might do to me, meant that wasn’t an option. Moments later, all three spears had extracted themselves, and were hovering parallel to the ground. At least I’d managed that part of the spell okay. Suddenly one of the spears flew across the ground and hit the bullseye. The level five witch smiled—justifiably satisfied with her work. The level four witch’s spear was next to take flight. It too hit the target, but only on the very outer edge. All eyes were on me now.

“Come on, Jill!

“Go, Jill!”

“Jill, Jill, Jill!”

Although the crowd were trying to help, they only succeeded in making me even more nervous.

I had to focus. I had to shut out the noise of the crowd. I took note of where the target was, and then closed my eyes. Focus, I had to focus like I never had before. I opened my eyes as the spear began its flight. The crowd fell silent. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as I waited.

The spear glanced the very edge of the target, but then fell to the ground. There was a huge gasp from the crowd, then a few moments of silence before the cheers erupted for the level four and five witches.

I’d been eliminated. The twins and Aunt Lucy came rushing over.

“You did brilliantly!” Amber screamed.

“You beat the level three witch!” Pearl shouted.

“Well done, Jill.” Aunt Lucy beamed.

“I don’t know why you are all so excited.” Grandma pushed her way past the twins. “What do you call that? The level four witch left it wide open for you to take your place in the final.”

“I did my best. I’d never even seen the spell before.”

“That’s no excuse. I expected much better from you.” With that, she turned and walked away.

“Take no notice of her.” My mother’s ghost appeared at my side. “I know I said I’d only come when you called, but I couldn’t miss your big day. You did really well. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks Mum. That means a lot.”

We all stayed on to watch the rest of the competition. It came as no surprise that the level five witch was the eventual winner. It was well deserved, and she seemed delighted to be joining the ranks of the level six witches.

“That will be you one day,” my mother said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Mark my words. And it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

Back in the cubicle, I changed into my own clothes. I’d just finished getting ready when there was a knock on the door—probably Grandma to give me another dressing down.

I opened the door to find Alicia. Standing next to her was the skinny wizard who was obviously Alicia’s fanboy.

“Hello, Alicia, or should I call you Tess?”

“You were lucky today,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Lucky I didn’t die from the poison you gave me, you mean? When did you do it? When I was in the loo?”

“You’re not a real witch. You hadn’t even cast a spell until this year.”

“That’s hardly my fault.”

“You should have stayed with the humans where you belong.”

“I take it that you’re not really a lawyer then?”

“Of course I’m not. I spend as little time among humans as possible. If I had my way they’d all be wiped out. We could make much better use of their world.”

“You really are a piece of work aren’t you?”

“Take some advice. Go back to the human world and stay there. You aren’t wanted here. There are forces much greater than mine which don’t want you here. Do it now while you still can.”

She turned and walked away with her skinny sidekick trailing behind.

“Wait! What forces are you talking about? Do you know the Dark One?”

She glanced back over her shoulder and flashed me a chilling smile.

Aunt Lucy insisted we all go back to her house to celebrate. The house was heaving with people—many of whom I’d never even seen before. It seemed that everyone wanted to congratulate me. Everyone except Grandma that was—she was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Lester.

The next morning, a lot of people had very bad hangovers. Fortunately for me, I wasn’t one of them. I’d deliberately steered clear of the alcohol.

My phone rang. It was the concierge from Tregar Court. I’d asked him to call me if he saw either Darcy James or Mr Dixon leave the building followed shortly after by the other.

“She left on foot about ten minutes ago,” the concierge said. “Dixon’s on his way down to the garage now.”

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing my bag. “Is he definitely alone?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I had to be quick. I cast the spell, and by using all of my focus, managed to land back in Washbridge, right next to my car. The roads were quiet, so it took just over a minute to reach Tregar Court. Had I been quick enough? I was parked opposite the underground garage entrance. After a couple of minutes, I was beginning to think that I’d missed him, but then I saw the barrier rise. Mr Dixon was behind the wheel of a brand new Jaguar. I stayed a couple of cars back in case he spotted me. Darcy James was waiting on the corner of the high street, close to Ever a Wool Moment. She climbed into the passenger seat of the Jag, and it took a right onto the ring road. I followed for four miles until they pulled into the car park of a motel and diner on the outskirts of the city. I parked just inside the entrance to the car park, and watched through my rear view mirror, as the pair walked arm in arm towards the diner.

I cast the ‘invisible’ spell, and made my way in after them. There were no more than a dozen customers inside. Dixon and Darcy James were seated in an alcove at the far side of the room. The ten minutes of invisibility I had was more than enough for me to gather all of the evidence I needed.

I got back to my car just before the spell wore off. Everything was starting to make sense now, but if I was going to have a solid case to present to the police, I was going to need Mrs Dixon to fill in the gaps. I had a feeling she’d be only too willing to help.

The concierge caught my eye as I walked through the lobby. “Okay?”

I gave him the thumbs up.

Before I could summon the lift, my phone rang. It was a Candlefield number, but one I didn’t recognise.

“Jill Gooder?” a female voice barked.

“Speaking.”

“This is Inspector Jewell.”

“Oh, hello.” Our paths had crossed before. Maxine Jewell hadn’t taken kindly to my involvement in the Candlefield Cup case even though I’d managed to solve it. “What can I do for you?”

“I understand you’ve been poking around the offices of The Candle.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it poking around exactly. I was just—”

“Well don’t. I’ve told you before; you have no authority in Candlefield. Stick to serving tea and cakes at the tea room.”

“Why is it that no one seems interested in investigating TDO?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions. Just stay out of police business if you know what’s good for you.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Just do it.”

With that, she ended the call. Who had told her that I’d been to the offices of The Candle, and more importantly why? What were they so worried about?

Chapter 26

Mrs Dixon answered the door wearing an apron; her hands were covered in flour. “Oh, hello again.”

“You remember me?”

“Of course. I’m afraid Reginald is out.”

“It’s actually you I wanted to speak to. Can I come in?”

“Err—yes, of course. You caught me in the middle of baking. Reginald loves my fruit scones. Go through to the living room while I wash my hands. Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?”

I declined. The news I was about to deliver was probably going to turn Mrs Dixon’s world upside down. The sooner I got it over with, the better.

“Right then.” Mrs Dixon returned sans apron. “How can I help you?”

“You might want to take a seat.”

“Oh dear.” She looked genuinely worried now. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you aware that your husband and Darcy James are having an affair?”

The colour drained from her face, and I had my answer. “That’s ridiculous,” she managed at last. “Reginald would never look at another woman.”

“I’m afraid it’s true. I have evidence.” I pulled out my phone. “Can I show you?”

She looked at me with pleading eyes—she didn’t want to believe that what I was saying was true. “I suppose so,” she said weakly.

I held up the phone, and played back the video I’d recorded earlier in the diner.

“Why did the idiot top himself?” Darcy James said.

“Who knows? Couldn’t handle the guilt probably,” Dixon said. “Still, he’s done us a favour. The police have closed the case now.”

“What about that private eye?”

“Don’t worry about her. She’s got nothing.”

Dixon leaned forward and placed a long kiss on Darcy’s lips.

“When are you going to tell her?” Darcy said.

“Soon.”

“When is soon?”

“We have to be patient. We’ve come this far. It would be stupid to jeopardise things now.”

“But I want to be with you.” Darcy put her hand on Dixon’s. “I want to spend every moment with you. I can’t bear the thought of you touching her. Of you sleeping with her.”

“Do you think I want to? I think of you all the time. But we have to be careful.”

“I’m sorry I had to show you that,” I said.

“I gave him everything,” Mrs Dixon said through her tears. “I’ve never looked at another man.”

“Can I ask—?”

“Would you excuse me?” She didn’t wait for an answer—instead, she disappeared in the direction of the bedrooms.

How much time did I have before Mr Dixon came back? I was banking on him being otherwise engaged with Darcy for a while, but what if Mrs Dixon had gone into the bedroom to call her husband?

“I’m sorry about that.” She returned, looking more self composed.

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

She brushed aside my words. “Not your fault. I’ve known something wasn’t right for some time. I just wouldn’t let myself believe it.”

“I think your husband may have had something to do with Alan Dennis’s murder.”

“He did.”

Her frankness caught me by surprise. “You knew?”

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

Mrs Dixon answered all of my questions and filled in all of the gaps. The Dixons, Darcy James and Jason Allan had all conspired to kill Alan Dennis. Mr Dixon had been the instigator and the brains behind the plan.

“Alan Dennis had recognised Reginald and me,” Mrs Dixon said.

“Hardly surprising, seeing as how one of your earlier schemes caused him to go bankrupt, and essentially ruined his life. Had he threatened to expose you?”

“Not as far as I know, but Reginald was sure it was only a matter of time.”

“Why didn’t you just up sticks and move away like you usually do?”

“We’re right in the middle of our latest project.”

The way she referred to the Ponzi schemes as ‘projects’ showed a callous disregard for the devastating effect they had on people’s lives. I wanted to shake her, but now wasn’t the time.

“If we’d abandoned it,” she said, “we’d have been ruined.”

“So you decided to kill Dennis.”

“I didn’t want anything to do with it, but Reginald said it was the only way.”

“How did he get Jason Allan to do it?”

“He didn’t. Darcy James did that. She was in a relationship with Jason. At least, I thought she was. Reginald had said she was short of money, and that she’d approached him for a loan. He said that he’d agreed to help her if she would persuade Jason to do it. I suppose that was all a lie.”

“It looks that way. I suspect your husband and Darcy were having an affair before she hooked up with Jason. Jason was just the patsy in all of this. But how on earth did Darcy manage to persuade him to kill for her?”

“She told Jason that Alan Dennis had assaulted her and was still stalking her. She told him that she was afraid of Dennis.”

“Did you know that Alan Dennis was Jason Allan’s father?”

Mrs Dixon’s composure melted away again. “What? That can’t be true. Jason wouldn’t have killed his own father no matter how much he loved Darcy.”

“He didn’t know—at least not at the time. His father had left his mother before Jason was born. Alan Dennis had been paying Jason’s rent, but had never revealed who he was. Jason only found out after he’d killed him. I’m almost certain that’s why he committed suicide.”

“That poor boy.” She took a deep breath. “So what happens now?”

“I’m taking this to the police. I’d like you to come with me.”

“What will happen to me?”

“I don’t know, but it’ll be far worse if you don’t tell them everything you know straight away.”

I tried to get hold of Maxwell, but reached Sushi. With her usual charm, she agreed to meet Mrs Dixon and me at the police station. I insisted Jack Maxwell be present. She said she’d see what she could do.

By the time I’d finished at the police station and got back to Candlefield, most of the revellers from the night before had made their way back home—many of them still nursing hangovers no doubt. I’d had nothing to eat all morning, and was craving a blueberry muffin.

“Are the twins working in the tea room?” I asked Aunt Lucy.

“Supposedly, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve gone back to bed. They looked terrible when they left here this morning. How do you feel?”

“Me? I’m fine. I didn’t have much to drink.”

“You did fantastically well yesterday at the Levels. Everyone is really proud of you.”

“Except Grandma.”

“Including Grandma, but she’ll never admit it. You know what she’s like.”

“I’m beginning to.”

“My ears are burning,” Grandma said.

How did she creep in like that?

“Morning mother,” Aunt Lucy said.

“It smells like a brewery in here.”

“We were celebrating last night. You should have joined us.”

“Nothing to celebrate. And where’s that Fester of yours?”

Aunt Lucy’s smile disappeared. “His name is Lester!”

“So where is he? Has he dumped you already?”

“Grandma!” I stepped in.

“Can’t I ask a simple question now? The man seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth, and no one seems to know why.”

“I don’t want to discuss it.” Aunt Lucy walked away.

“What about you?” Grandma turned to me. “You were meant to be investigating. Do you know what’s happened to him? No one tells me anything.”

Is there any wonder?

“I heard that,” Grandma said.

Whoops. When would I learn she could hear my thoughts?

It was difficult to say which of the twins looked worse. Amber was behind the cake shop counter with her head propped up on her hand. Pearl was behind the tea room counter—sitting on a stool with her eyes barely open.

“Morning you two,” I said as loudly as I could.

“Shhh!”

“Shhh!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have you got a hangover?”

They both nodded, but then cringed at the effort.

“How come you look so good?” Amber asked.

“Because I didn’t get drunk last night. I’ve been working in Washbridge all morning. Just solved a case.”

“I thought you looked pleased with yourself,” Pearl said. “Do you want anything?”

“I’ll take a cup of tea and one of your best blueberry muffins, please.”

Just then the door opened behind me.

“Jill,” Annie Christy said. “I hoped I might catch you here. Could I have a word in private, please?”

“Sure. Do you want a drink or anything?”

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

I led the way over to a table for two at the back of the shop. No one would overhear us there. Was she about to slam me for interfering in the family business?

“I wanted to thank you,” Annie said. “For keeping this unfortunate business under wraps.”

“Your mother has spoken to you then?”

“We had a long talk. I feel so bad about trying to make her sell the business when it was the last thing she wanted to do.”

“You were doing it with the best of intentions.”

“Maybe, but I should have known, and Mum should have felt she could talk to me about it. I’ve told the would-be buyer that the bakery is no longer for sale. I just hope that my stupidity hasn’t done any long term harm to the business.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t. If your other customers are anything like the twins, they’ll be prepared to cut your mum some slack. After all, her cakes are still the best in Candlefield.” I took a bite of the muffin.

“Thanks, Jill. We owe you one. If there’s ever anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”

Not long after Annie Christy had left, my phone rang. It was another unknown Candlefield number. Someone else warning me off the TDO investigation?

“Jill Gooder?” It was a male voice.

“Speaking.”

“I have some information which might interest you. About TDO.”

“Who am I speaking to?”

“No names. I used to be a reporter on The Candle.”

“Used to be?”

“I can’t talk on the phone. Do you know Magpie Place?”

“I can find it.”

“Meet me there in ten minutes.”

“How will I know—?”

The line was dead.

Magpie Place was a small courtyard to the north of Candlefield—an area I hadn’t been to before. I’d set off immediately the call had ended, but it still took me just under fifteen minutes to get there. All of the streets around the courtyard were narrow—too narrow for cars. It reminded me a little of the Shambles area of York which I’d once visited on a school trip. The courtyard had a bar and restaurant on one side with shops opposite. On the other two sides were offices and houses. The courtyard itself was practically deserted. I glanced around—there were three men—none of whom seemed to be paying me any particular attention. All I could do was wait.

The woman’s scream made me jump.

“Help!” she yelled. “Help me.”

I followed the others as they went to the woman’s aid. She led the way up one of the narrow roads.

“There!” She pointed to a doorway. The two men who’d been in front of me bent down, and I could see that they were attending to a man who was lying on the ground. The pool of blood beneath his head told its own story.