Raven (A Very British Witch Book 4) Page 4

  Scarlett scurried through the shop. “Karl, I’m so, so sorry, it won’t happen again, I’ll be your perfect employee from now on, I’ll scrub the floor, I’ll do all the lifting, I’ll be more helpful to the customers, I’ll—”

  “No,” he said curtly. “Just man the till like you’re supposed to, that will be enough.” He shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling. “Lord, why do you punish me with such bad employees? Is it too much to expect that they arrive on time and do the job I pay them for?”

  Scarlett fought to hide her grin. If anyone else had said this, she would have laughed, but with Karl, she just knew better. In some ways, he reminded her of Basil Fawlty, whose people skills were slightly below par. But was she the voice of reason like Sybil? Maybe that was the role she could grow into. She smiled at the thought of being appreciated and taking on more responsibility.

  “Well, I’m going to the back for a while. Probably for the rest of the day, in fact. Think you can cope out here on your own?”

  Scarlett nodded. He seemed to be in a rare good mood, despite everything. Maybe that was why he’d let her off relatively lightly.

  “Good girl.”

  The short-lived feeling of goodwill followed Karl into the back room. He had the rare knack of being able to floor people with one comment. She gave it a moment’s thought and cringed. If Tabitha and Tarquin got together, maybe she’d have to get used to everyone speaking to her like a child.

  Standing behind the counter, doing her best to look like a cheery, happy bunny despite everything, her mind began to wander. She couldn’t help but ruminate on the excitement of the afternoon. Saying everything aloud to Amanda earlier had helped her focus and allowed her to go through everything logically without being affected by her emotions. Like all good detectives, she had to remain focused and approach everything methodically. Maybe this was the mistake she’d made when investigating the dead man’s flat and why she’d come up short.

  Roughly an hour after she’d returned from her break, Scarlett’s rehearsed grin wore off and she slumped forward onto the counter. The afternoon had been so slow, with hardly any customers. If things continued like this, she wouldn’t get the chance to emulate Sybil Fawlty. She grinned at her choice of role models and managed to muster up enough enthusiasm to smile at the door, ready to welcome any customers that might step in.

  She’d only been smiling for a matter of seconds when the door opened.

  Scarlett stood up straight, put on her most enticing smile and straightened her dress. She couldn’t help running an eye over the shelves and trying to second guess what the customer might be looking for. An initial glimpse of black boot provided her with the information she needed to make an educated guess.

  Once the second foot appeared, followed by a torso and finally the head, her smile evaporated. “Good afternoon, Miss?”

  “Slater.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Slater, we meet again.”

  Looking at PC Baldwin she had to bite her tongue. The words “goody, goody” came to mind. “Good afternoon, constable.”

  His eyes darted around the shop. He found his way to the counter she was standing at and leaned in over it. “Is now a good time to talk?”

  “Oh, err, yes… as good as any.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Not that it would have made a blind bit of difference if it wasn’t.”

  Scarlett admired his honesty, despite the fact that it was a blatant attempt to assert his total authority.

  “So, do you want to start by telling me everything you know?”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes, go on, right from the start. Let no detail remain untold.”

  “It started when I was in the coffee shop and this woman entered screaming for someone to call the police.”

  “Oh, sorry, Miss Slater, just hang on a jiffy.” He took out his notepad, clicked his pen and began scribbling, repeating everything word for word as he wrote.

  “Sorry about that, do go on. You’d just seen a woman shouting to call the police. Then what happened?”

  “Then, after I’d calmed her down she took me into the flat upstairs.”

  “Was that the building we found you in?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you notice anything strange about the building itself?”

  “Only the smell. It was… well, it was pretty much the worse smell I’ve ever experienced. It knocked me sick.”

  “Yes, yes, I do recall having a similar reaction myself.”

  “So then the cleaner led me up the stairs to the top floor. And there he was— sitting on the couch in the living room. Just as you found him.”

  “Anything else?”

  “The smell got stronger as I approached. I have a feeling it was—”

  “Rotting flesh, yes, we managed to work that much out for ourselves. Thank you very much, Miss Marple.”

  She felt a sharp twinge of annoyance, but kept her face void of all expression. “And then there was the bathroom. I looked carefully in there too, but nothing.”

  He nodded, still scribbling. “Anything else?”

  Time to reap her revenge. “Well, hm… there was the card and the box of chocolates...”

  His eyes lit up. “There was a card and a box of chocolates? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Oh, didn’t think it was important.”

  He looked at the heavens and shook his head in the same way Karl had earlier. “Well, that’s one possible avenue of inquiry. Anything else?”

  “He had a phone in his hand. I assume you saw it?”

  The policeman nodded. “What about it?”

  “It’s a bit strange, don’t you think. I mean, if he had his phone, why didn’t he call for help?”

  He appeared to be deep in thought. “Well, maybe something was stopping him.”

  A smart looking man stepped out from behind a shelf. Scarlett wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. He brought with him a strong air of authority.

  “Good afternoon, miss. I’m DCI Yates.”

  The constable swung around. “Oh, err, hello—sir. What a pleasure it is to see you. As always.”

  The Detective Chief Inspector glared at the constable, who blushed and muttered his apologies under his breath.

  Scarlett refused to be distracted. “Maybe. Or maybe the signal from his flat was really bad. Or maybe it’s something else entirely.”

  DCI Yates decided it was time to make a contribution. “What makes you say that? Do you know something else?”

  “Well, Rosa–the cleaner that goes ‘round every month—said he had a girlfriend who came by all the time. She couldn’t remember her name exactly, but said it was some kind of bird like Robin or—blackbird.” Scarlett flashed a smile. “But she never once said that the name began with the letter V.”

  The DCI gave her a considering look. “Letter V?”

  “From the card and a box of chocolates on the table.”

  The constable looked at his superior. “She was just telling me about this when you walked in, sir.”

  He nodded. “Can you describe these to me, miss?”

  “There was a card and a box of chocolates on the table. The chocolates were all melted and the letter had a lipstick kiss on it. It was signed with the letter V.”

  The DCI pressed his lips together. Scarlett couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with her for coming up with something he hadn’t, or impressed that she’d come to the same conclusion he already had. “So, either the cleaner’s mistaken or he was two-timing her, is that what you’re saying?”

  Scarlett saw her moment to shine. “My gut feeling is, the card wasn’t from his regular girlfriend.”

  The DCI smiled; a slight uptick of his mouth that Scarlett could just barely make out. “Now, that is an interesting theory.”

  Scarlett grinned. “Thank you.”

  The DCI looked at her. “Well, Miss Slater, you certainly seem to know a lot about this case.”

  “I just pay atte
ntion to what I see. Always have. I had ambitions of being a detective when I was young.”

  The constable spoke up. “Not only when you were young, if your snooping is anything to go by.”

  The DCI pushed up the collar on his jacket and glanced through the window. “I think that just about concludes things for now.”

  Scarlett smiled. “Okay.”

  “But, you’re not off the hook yet. There are still lots of things we need to investigate and we can’t do anything until we’ve established a few facts. Miss Slater, I strongly advise you not to leave town for the foreseeable future.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  They both turned to head for the door and in the blink of an eye, she was serving a customer like nothing untoward had happened. Five minutes later, she was alone, mulling over the day's events.

  She felt hot breath on the back of her neck. Startled, she swung around to see that Karl had wandered in from the back room.

  “Karl! Finished your stock take?”

  He nodded. “I was, err, listening in on your conversation with the police earlier and I just wondered—is everything ok?”

  “Oh yes, everything’s fine now, couldn’t be better.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Scarlett furrowed her brow. “Yes Karl, I’m sure. ”

  “That’s just as well, because if you are in any kind of trouble, then—well that’s bad news for everyone isn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. What happened?”

  “Ah, well, I might have witnessed a crime scene earlier, that’s all.”

  He blinked in surprise, then rolled his eyes and wandered back to the backroom. “Oh, of course you did.”

  +++

  Thursday, Late Afternoon

  Slater residence, Bicester, England

  Scarlett removed her jacket and sighed. “Oh, it’s been a long day. Amanda?”

  A note lay on the kitchen table, informing her that she’d gone to Ronnie’s for the night. Apparently, they were doing some new-fangled keto dinner or something. Whatever it was, it sounded disgusting. Precisely the opposite of what Scarlett needed on a day like this.

  “Good evening!”

  Scarlett nearly jumped out of her skin. “What the—?!”

  Raven was standing by her feet, looking up at her.

  “Raven, didn’t I ask you not to go creeping up on people? You gave me a heart attack just now.”

  “Sorry. Busy day then, I take it?”

  “Well, not busy as such. More like, exhausting.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  “You think? Well, I’ll tell you about it if you like?”

  “The penny’s dropped, I see.”

  Scarlett sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. For the second time that afternoon, she recounted everything, from the woman in Costa to the card and chocolates on the table. Only this time, of course, she had the police visit to relay as well.

  Raven tilted her head to the side. “Well, I agree. That does sound like a thoroughly exhausting day. Why don’t you relax after dinner? Have a bath and an early night? After feeding me, I mean.”

  Scarlett laughed, and got up to refill Raven’s cat bowl. “That sounds like a fantastic idea, in theory. But I’ve got too many thoughts swirling around to sleep. I’d just be up awake all night.”

  “You’re not worried about the investigation are you? That you might be a suspect?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that. It was just something Karl said.”

  “Karl? What did he say?”

  “Well, he didn’t say anything, not exactly. It was more like an insinuation.”

  Raven sighed, lashing her tail back and forth. “Please, let’s not play fifty questions here. What did he insinuate?”

  Scarlett chuckled. “He insinuated that I’d drawn suspicion to myself and not only that, I’d also put everyone’s safety in jeopardy. Oh Raven, I just couldn’t live with myself if—”

  “Ignore him.” She appeared to be mulling something over, puzzled. “Just one last question.”

  “What?”

  “The flat you went in. You said it was the one above the café?”

  Scarlett nodded.

  “What number was it?”

  “2B.”

  Raven sat still and unblinking for a long moment, staring into space. It was an expression not unusual for a cat, but it still struck Scarlett as worrying.

  “Raven? You OK?”

  “Oh, yes I’m fine. Why don’t you crack on with dinner so you can relax in the bath?”

  Scarlett nodded and turned towards her bedroom. “You know what, I think I’ll just take a shower and start cooking afterward.”

  Raven flicked her tail dismissively and padded her way over to her food bowl. “Whatever floats your boat, then.”

  Even in the relaxing warmth of the shower, Scarlett couldn’t stop her mind from racing. In particular, she thought about the card and what Rosa had told her. A bird’s name, she thought, and laughed when she recalled the name, “Blackbird.”

  She was just about to turn the shower off when a spark of electricity shot across her mind, widening her eyes to the fullest. Blackbird or—Raven. She was no ornithologist, but she knew the two were closely related. If the name was Raven, then this would explain the obscure reference to blackbird. That had to be it.

  Scarlett turned off the shower, got dressed and joined Raven in the kitchen.

  “That was quick,” Raven said, hopping up on the table. “You must be hungry.”

  “Well, yes I am, but that’s not the reason I was quick. I, err, had an idea.”

  Raven’s ears pricked up, but when she spoke her tone was mocking. “Oh? An idea?”

  “Don’t say it like that!”

  They both cracked up laughing at Scarlett’s self-deprecating humor.

  Once they’d calmed down, She took a deep breath, crossed her fingers under the table and popped the question.

  “Raven, there’s no easy way of saying this, so I’m just going to come right out and ask you.”

  “Oh dear, sounds ominous. Should I sit?” She leaned back on her haunches.

  Scarlett shook her head. “No, I was just wondering if maybe—”

  “Oh come on, spit it out.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m getting there. Raven, are you the girlfriend?”

  Raven’s ears pressed flat against her head, and Scarlett sat down, giving her a moment.

  Finally, she spoke. “Yes.”

  Scarlett smacked the table. “I knew it!”

  Raven settled down on her paws and tucked her tail over them. Her ears were back up, but she still seemed upset. “Yes, I think it was my boyfriend. Robert McMillan, that was his name.”

  Scarlett nodded away any remaining shred of doubt. “McMillan—that was the name I saw under the buzzer. And the cleaner said it too.”

  “You’ve cracked your puzzle. Well done. Congratulations.”

  “Oh Raven, I’m sorry! Please forgive me for getting carried away. What happened? Do tell me.”

  “Well it all started when we were having a row, and to teach him a lesson, I tried to turn him into a toad—just for a minute, mind you!”

  Scarlett nodded. “I understand completely. What was the row about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Some crazy woman had been sending him gifts for months. I kept asking him to put a stop to it, but he wouldn’t. Said it was some kind of stalker, but he wouldn’t go to the police about it. I started to think he was seeing someone behind my back.”

  Scarlett nodded, determined not to let her emotions get in the way of her inquiry. “All the signs were there. Who could blame you? Who was the woman? Do you have any ideas?”

  “Only that she always signed the gifts in the same way… with the letter V.”

  Scarlett nodded sympathetically. “So what happened?”

  “Well,” Raven looked a bit shee
pish now. As sheepish as a cat could possibly look, at least. “You remember before, when I said a powerful witch had turned me into a cat?”

  “Yes of course.”

  “That may not have been the entire truth…”

  Scarlett blinked. “Then what is?”

  “Well, the spell I was trying to cast went a little… wrong. Oh, it’s embarrassing to say—that’s why I lied before.”

  “You need to tell me all the facts here, Raven.”

  She sighed, then spoke quickly, as if the faster she said it the less she’d have to think about it. “We fought, I cast incorrectly, I turned myself into a cat, and then I ran away. That’s the last time I spoke to him. You know the rest.”

  “But how did you get… captured?”

  “One day I was out hunting for food, you know, getting used to my new lifestyle. The water in my flat tasted peculiar so I was on the lookout for something to drink too. And then, out of nowhere, the military guys jumped out of some bushes and took me.”

  “How did they track you?”

  “Goodness knows. That, my friend, remains a mystery.”

  Scarlett moved in to sympathetically stroke her under the chin. “Sounds terrible.”

  “Oh, it was. It was.”

  “So all this time, you had no idea that Robert was dead?”

  “Absolutely not. Why would I?”

  “Don’t know. Thought you might have gone to see him.”

  Raven pressed her head into Scarlett’s palm, then moved away. “We didn’t end on good terms.”

  “Right. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, Scarlett, I’m pretty bushed myself. Think I’ll just go and curl up on the sofa while you make your dinner.”

  “Be my guest.”

  As soon as she had dinner started, Scarlett took out her phone and found Tim in her list of contacts. Tim. I need to see you.

  Finger over the send button, she paused. He’d already canceled her once and she didn’t want to come across as clingy—or worse still, desperate. After much debating, she decided these were special circumstances. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button and exhaled.

  CHAPTER FOUR