Witch Is When I Said Goodbye (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 10) (12 page)

Poor Dorothy. It must have been horrible to be surrounded by tasty meals, and not be able to take a bite. I had the same problem with blueberry muffins.

Chapter 14

The next morning, the police tape had been removed from outside Coffee triangle. There was still a ‘Closed’ sign on the door, but I tried it anyway. To my surprise, it wasn’t locked.

“Hello! Is anyone here?”

“We’re closed,” said a voice from the back. “We’ll be open in a few days’ time.”

“Actually, I just wanted a word with someone.”

“We’ve got nothing to say to the press, sorry.”

“I’m not the press.”

A man appeared from behind the counter.

“Who are you?” He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure, you’re not the press?”

“I promise. My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator.”

“What do you want?”

“My grandmother owns the wool shop just up the road.”

“You mean Ever A Wool Moment?”

“You know it?”

“My gran is into knitting big time. She loves that shop and especially the Everlasting Wool.”

“It was my grandmother who invented it. Look, the reason I’m here is that the police came to question her yesterday. Apparently, they’re talking to all the local coffee shop and tea room owners. They have this crazy notion that the motive for the murder was to get Coffee Triangle closed down, and steal its customers.”

He laughed. “You can’t be serious. Surely, no one’s going to commit murder just to put a rival out of business.”

“I know. It’s laughable. Anyway, it made her so angry that she’s asked me to see what I can find out.”

“Isn’t that a job for the police?”

“You’re right, but if my grandmother wants to pay me for trying to help, who am I to say no?”

“You’re surely not taking money off your own flesh and blood?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But this is Grandma. If you knew her, you’d understand.”

“Fair enough, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to help.”

“Are you the manager?”

“Me? No. Tony’s the manager. Tony Tuck. I’m the assistant manager. I’m Andy Tunow.”

“Pleased to meet you, Andy. Is Tony around?”

“No, he’s having a short break in Las Vegas.”

“Really? Is he getting married?”

“No. Between you and me, Tony’s a bit of a gambler. He likes to play the cards and have a bet on the horses. He reckons he’s on a winning streak, so he’s treated himself to a trip to the home of gambling.”

“In that case, can
you
spare me a couple of minutes to answer a few questions?”

“Sure. Why not? There isn’t much happening here until we open again. Come through to the back, and I’ll make you a coffee.”

The back office was quite large, but then it needed to be because it also acted as a store room for all the instruments.

“Wow! I didn’t realise you had so many.”

“Thirty tambourines, thirty triangles, thirty gongs, thirty drums. You name it, we’ve got thirty of them.”

“It must have cost a pretty penny to set up.”

“I’m sure it did, but it seems to have paid off. The place is busy most of the time. Drum day is our most popular day.”

“I know. The last time I came here on drum day was with my young nephew. It was so busy that I only just managed to find a seat.”

“Is he a drummer, your nephew?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Can you talk me through exactly what happened on the day of the murder?”

“There’s not a lot to tell. It had been a normal day—much like any other. Then the woman who was sitting next to the murdered man realised he was dead, and screamed. It was pandemonium after that.”

“Did anyone actually witness the murder?”

“No. At least not as far as I’m aware.”

“What about the manager? Where was he while all this was going on?”

“I’m not sure. He’d been on the shop floor, playing a drum, for most of the shift.”

“Playing a drum?”

“Yeah. He often leaves me to do the real work while he bangs a drum or shakes a tambourine.”

“Did he call the police?”

“No—that was me. I don’t actually know where Tony was—in the back having a crafty cigarette, probably. When the woman screamed, I dashed straight over to her, but I didn’t see anything of Tony until after the police arrived.”

“When does he get back from Vegas?”

“The day after tomorrow—just in time for when we reopen.”

“Okay, well thanks for your time. I’ll maybe pop in again then.”

***

When I arrived at Cuppy C, I was quite surprised to find Amber sitting at a corner table with William. Neither of the twins seem to spend much time with their respective fiancés. Maybe the Sebastian incident had brought the twins to their senses?

“Hi, Jill.” Amber spotted me.

“Hello, you two. Nice to see you again, William. I was beginning to think you were a figment of Amber’s imagination.”

He laughed. “I’ve been working all hours. I’m getting in as much overtime as I can.”

“To keep Amber in dresses and shoes?”

“Don’t say
that
, Jill.” Amber protested, but she knew it was true. We both did.

“Where’s Pearl?”

“Out shopping. It’s fairly quiet in here today, so I said I’d watch the shop. And besides, William and I have important things to discuss.”

“Oh, sorry. If you’d like me to leave you alone—”

“No, I didn’t mean that. Come and sit with us. We’ve got something exciting to tell you.”

‘Exciting’ could mean anything when it came to the twins. Still, I was curious enough to join them.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret,” Amber said.

“You know me. I can keep a secret.”

“Hmm?” Amber looked doubtful.

“I can. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Is it some juicy gossip?”

“Nothing like that. One of the reasons William has been doing so much overtime is because we’ve been saving up.”

“You have?” I hadn’t seen much evidence of Amber saving. In fact, from what I’d seen, she’d been spending more money than ever on clothes, handbags, shoes, and jewellery.

“Yes,
I’ve
managed to save a little, but William has saved most of the money, haven’t you, darling?”

William gave me a knowing look. I just bet he had. Ninety-nine percent of it, probably.

“Go on, then, Amber. Tell me what you’ve been saving up for.”

“Shall we?” She looked at her fiancé.

“Sure, why not? I don’t mind.”

Amber looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You mustn’t tell anyone, and you
definitely
mustn’t tell Pearl.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Or Mum.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone. Now, what is it?”

“We’ve been house-hunting.”

That was the last thing I’d expected her to say.

“House-hunting? You mean for you and William?”

“Of course. I can’t wait to get away from Pearl. She drives me insane. You know what she’s like.”

I smiled. I knew what they were
both
like, and they were as bad as each other. I’d always thought it was strange that they’d chosen to live together because most of the time they fought like cat and dog. Even so, I hadn’t seen this coming.

“When will you start looking at houses?”

“We’ve already found one.”

“Already? Where is it?”

“It’s only a couple of miles from Cuppy C, so I’ll be able to walk to work every day. It’s not too far from where William works, either. It’s beautiful, Jill. Look.” She took out her phone, clicked her way through a few screens, and then held it up for me to see.

The house in the photos did look lovely. Maybe a bit small, but that was to be expected for a first time buyer.

“Have you actually made an offer?”

“Not yet, but we’re going to, aren’t we, William?”

He nodded.

“Why don’t you take a look at it, Jill?” Amber was so excited that she could barely sit still. “We’d love to know what you think, wouldn’t we, William?”

“Me?” I said. “I don’t really know much about houses.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve got good taste.”

That was so very true.

“Okay. If you give me the address, I’ll pop over there when I get a chance.”

***

The witnesses who’d come forward in the Coffee Triangle murder hadn’t been named in the Bugle article, but a quick trip to the police station, combined with a little invisibility, had snagged me the names and contact details of all the people who had been in Coffee Triangle at the time of the incident. The four key witnesses—those who had been standing or sitting close to the murder victim—had been highlighted.

My first port of call was at Ridic Court; a block of flats very close to my own. I’d telephoned ahead and arranged to meet with an Adrienne Paige.

A woman, in her early thirties, answered the door.

“Adrienne? I’m Jill Gooder—I called earlier.”

“Of course. Come in. Would you like a drink?”

“Do you have tea?”

“Sure. I don’t have any biscuits though, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay.” Cheapskate. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“No problem. I’m between jobs at the moment, so it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

When I stepped into the living room, it was as though someone had turned off the colour. Everything was either black or white.

Suddenly, something small and furry rushed past my feet. I almost jumped out of my skin. “What was that?”

“That’s Stripe.”

I looked all around the room—trying to catch another glimpse of Stripe. Then he dashed across the room and out of the door.

“He gets a little nervous around strangers.” She passed me the tea.

“What is he?”

“Stripe? He’s a skunk.”

“Don’t they make an awful smell?”

“Only if they feel threatened. Stripe’s a little darling. Would you like to hold him?”

“No thanks, I’m good.” The tea tasted like Stripe had made it. “I guess a Zebra would be too big?” I laughed.

Adrienne looked confused.

“I assume you got Stripe to match the décor?”

She glanced around, and then smiled. “That had never occurred to me. I suppose he is a good match. No, I’ve always kept skunks—ever since I was a kid. I tried a dog once, but there wasn’t the same connection.”

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to me. I understand you were sitting quite close to the man who was murdered?”

“I was actually standing. I couldn’t get a seat, so I was leaning on the end of the booth where he was sitting.”

“Did you see the shooting? Or hear the shot?”

“I didn’t see anyone shoot him, and it was too noisy to hear yourself think. From what I understand, no one actually saw the shooting.”

“Can you tell me what you
did
see?”

“I thought the woman in the seat opposite him was getting ready to leave. I was keeping an eye on her, so I’d be able to grab her seat. The woman next to the murder victim was getting more and more annoyed because he’d left her hardly any room. I think she said something to him, but he didn’t respond. She must have nudged his arm to get his attention, and he fell, head first onto the table.”

“What happened then?”

“It took a few seconds for people to realise what had happened. They probably thought he was just drunk, and had passed out. Then someone shouted, ‘There’s blood’, and everyone looked around. There was blood all over the table. Then people started screaming and shouting.”

We spoke for a short while longer. She more or less confirmed what Andy Tunow had already told me. On my way out, I caught another glimpse of Stripe—fortunately for me, he didn’t feel threatened.

The next woman on my list was Joy Sanders. She lived in a terraced house on Ulous Road. Joy had been less enthusiastic about talking to me, but in the end, I’d managed to convince her to spare me a few minutes.

“Have you been collecting these long?” I was transfixed by the display of egg-timers.

“I don’t collect them. I hate the stupid things.”

“Oh?”

“They belong to my mother. She has so many that she’s run out of space in her house. Like an idiot, I said she could leave a few of them here. That was three years ago. It started with five of them, and now I’ve got almost as many here as she has at her place. I wouldn’t mind, but she expects me to dust them.”

“Oh dear.”

“That’s not the worst part. She insists that I turn them over four times a day. According to her, the sand gets lumpy otherwise.”

“That must be a bit of a pain.”