Murder Mystery & Magic Read online

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  ‘Any questions?’ Alizon asked when her talk finished. Several people put up their hands. They wanted to know where she got her ideas for the book and she could hardly tell them. ‘They just float into my head from somewhere.’ she said, realising she sounded stupid.

  It was another fifteen minutes before she managed to get away to go to the tent where she was due to sign books.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked Rowan, ‘I think I saw you stagger across the room, but my mind was blank. Fear, I suppose. Are you okay?’

  Rowan smiled, ‘I’m fine. Come on, let’s get those books signed. I hope you sell loads.’

  The book signing area was set up in the second marquee. Two tables were ready and Alizon’s books were on the one nearer the door. Delighted, she saw a small queue waiting for her after her talk, even though she recognised more than half were her friends or regular bookshop customers. Rowan, standing near her, whispered, ‘They all want to read your book! You’re a star!’

  Soon Alizon understood why she had queued for so long to buy books at Literary Festivals in the past. Every book buyer wanted to tell you what to write inside the book; their name or the name of a friend they planned to give it to. Many wanted to chat - to say something about her talk, or what they liked about the book from the reviews they’d read, or simply say hello. Two asked her to read and comment on their partly written novels. ‘But it’s my first book’ she protested, ‘I don’t really know if I can write, much less give advice to others.’ Apart from that she couldn’t imagine having enough time to read other people’s writing as well as running a business and beginning work on her second book.

  Most of her customers were women, often middle-aged or older, just as they were in the bookshop. When the last customer left, Rowan and Alizon totalled their sales.

  ‘I wish we had that many sales per day in the store,’ Rowan said, ‘but as word spreads that your book is good, sales are sure to improve. Anyway, I need to have a word with you.’

  She led Alizon to a quiet desk in an empty classroom. The whiteboard had been wiped clean, but what was on the walls showed it was a geography room. Three large maps on one wall, a chart of rainfall and hours of daylight on another. The biggest display was called ‘Where will geography take you?’ and showed all the professions the subject could lead to like Population Analyst and Conservation Manager. Around those were photographs of various famous cities such as New York and Sydney. It made Rowan wish she’d taken more interest in the subject at school.

  She sat with her back to the room and spoke quietly. ‘There’s something you need to know.’ she said.

  Alizon, still high from the success of her talk and book sales, laughed, ‘You’re not going to ask me how to write a book, are you?’

  Rowan leaned across and put her hand on Alizon’s arm, ‘This is serious, boss. You might not remember, but you blanked near the beginning of your talk.’

  Alizon frowned, her eyes moving from side to side searching for a memory that wasn’t there, ‘Are you sure? I don’t remember blanking. I thought it went well. That’s what people said.’

  ‘You only blanked for a minute, they probably didn’t notice. Do you remember me crossing the room as if I was ill and crashing into Edel?’

  Alizon’s frown deepened, ‘Are you ill? You seem okay now.’

  ‘It was Edel. She put a Forgetting Spell on you and you dried up. You just waved your book in front of you.’

  ‘I dried up? Really?’ Alizon shook her head, ‘I don’t remember any of that.’

  Rowan squeezed her arm tighter, ‘It’s true. Edel put a Forgetting Spell on you. I couldn’t work out how to break it so I pretended to be ill and fell into her. It stopped her incantation. She was so angry it’s a wonder she didn’t explode. I grabbed her arm and took her away. But it worked; the spell was broken.’

  Alizon felt her blood pressure rising and put her hand to her throat. ‘That’s... that’s... How dare she! The evil witch! Why would she do that?’

  ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? She’s worried she’ll lose her tea shop customers to you and go out of business. I heard her tea shop was struggling.’

  Alizon’s eyes, normally warm and kind, became grey and steely. ‘But stopping my talk won’t affect customers who come to my cafe.’

  ‘I suppose it’s part of some campaign she’s got going against you. Her cafe must be in a bad way. I wonder what Robert makes of it.’

  ‘Her new business partner? He’s not a super, is he?’

  Rowan shook her head, ‘No. It’s amazing he’s noticed nothing amiss with Edel, but he’s more the customer person for their cafe so he’s kept busy. She does most of the behind-the-scenes stuff. He’s a nice guy, doesn’t put customers off like Edel would with her sour lemon face. You going to challenge her about what she’s done?’

  ‘I damn well am. I’ll...’

  Rowan grabbed her arm, ‘Shhh, keep your voice down! Why not sit and have a glass of wine first. Talk to a few people. Give yourself time to calm down. You know what you’re like when you’re angry. You’ll say things you regret.’ She looked at her watch and frowned, ‘Time for me to get back to the shop. I’ll see you later.’

  Too angry to even talk about books, Alizon took herself off to another empty classroom and sat out of sight of anyone passing. The room smelled of disinfectant and sweaty children. Her heart still beat fast so she sat and forced herself to meditate. Twenty minutes later, she’d calmed enough to be sociable again.

  She attended one of the other talks, this one given by a normal who had written a zombie story. They were always good for a laugh. If only the normals knew what she knew! She asked a few naughty questions, knowing that the answers would be made up, and was surprised when they were answered correctly. She wasn’t wearing any symbol as witches did. Each coven had their own symbol and witches wore them somewhere - as a necklace, earrings, a broach, a tattoo or badge. That meant she had to be some other sort of Super.

  Intrigued, Alison headed for the school hall which had been transformed into a refreshment area. The organisers had done a great job of enlarging pictures of book covers for each of the speakers and placing them on the walls. Seeing her own cover A3 size made Alizon glow with pride. Her first book! If it was successful, she planned to write at least another two, making a trilogy. Or maybe even a series. Perhaps a film or TV company would spot it and...

  Edel’s ex-boyfriend, Jason, rudely shattered her wonderful daydream. He’d never been in the bookshop and wasn’t the bookish type so a Literary Festival was the last place she’d expect to see him. She gave a silent groan when he headed her way.

  ‘Edel here?’ he asked without even saying hello.

  ‘Nice to see you, too,’ Alizon answered.

  Her sarcasm either went over his head or he was too agitated to respond to it. ’Well, is she here?’ he repeated, his top lip curling.

  She gave a big sigh, ‘She was here earlier, but I have no idea where she is now. Why do you want her?’

  He narrowed his eyes, ’She’s still got some stuff of mine. From when we split up, you know. Dumped me, she did, the cow. Never did a thing wrong, me. Deserve better. You wait, she’ll get what’s coming to her.’

  With that he swivelled on his heel, spilling some of his beer, and walked away. Alizon wondered what had happened to him in his life to make him such an unpleasant man.

  It had been an unusual relationship; Edel was many years older than Jason and they had nothing in common. He was a garage mechanic and rough and ready. She had her own business and answered to no-one. Alizon shrugged - some men just didn’t like not being in control.

  She was ordering a large glass of wine and a bag of crisps when someone spoke next to her. ‘Hi, Alizon, how’s the cafe going?’

  It was Cathy, the librarian, one of Alizon’s friends. She had no need for a book shop with all the books in the world available to her. But their love of books meant they enjoyed each other’s company. They both had busy lives so they di
dn’t see each other as often as they’d like. As they walked to a table at the edge of the hall, Alizon noticed Cathy looked pale. Paler than you’d expect, even, for a librarian who spent most of her time indoors. Cathy was taller than most women and never tried to hide it, but now she looked bowed and tired. Her normal bouncy brown hair was listless and pulled back from her face with a band.

  They sat at one of the few available tables and clinked glasses. ‘The cafe’s going well,’ Alizon said, ‘but what about you? You’re not looking like yourself at all. Are you okay?’

  Cathy’s face went a gentle shade of pink, ‘Maybe. Life’s getting me down a bit at the moment, to be honest. At this stage of my life I thought I’d be married with a family. Time’s catching up with me and if I want to have children I’ve got to start before long. It’s worrying me a lot.’

  Alizon dredged some gossip she’d heard in the bookshop from the back of her mind, ‘I heard you consulted Edel about your love life,’ she said with a sympathetic smile.

  Cathy went even pinker, ‘Silly, really, I know there’s no such thing as magic potions. But I heard she helped someone, so I went to see her.’

  ‘Am I allowed to ask what she said?’

  ‘She gave me a little bottle of colourless liquid and told me to put it in the drink of the man I was interested in. Said he’d fall in love with me instantly.’

  Alizon was shocked, but not surprised. She never gave love potions; too much could go wrong. The person buying the potion could regret their decision, and find themselves having to fend off someone wildly in love with them. Or their intended love might already be married and the marriage could end. It was simply too dangerous. But worse of all, love potions took away the free will of the person who drank them. Alizon and other ethical witches never used any magic that overcame free will. Instead, Alizon gave people in Cathy’s position the Attraction Spell. It was a drink they took themselves to make them more attractive to those around them, including their love interest. It was no guarantee they’d get the person they wanted, but it increased their chances.

  The difficulty for witches wanting to sell these potions in Evensbrooke was that they couldn’t tell customers they really worked. They could say the other new age products like wind chimes or incense would be relaxing, but not that more serious products did what they said they would do. Not without giving away they were witches, anyway. Luckily, both townspeople and visitors were willing to give things a try if the price was right, or if they thought they might be a fun gift to give others.

  She looked again at Cathy’s sad face. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that, Cathy. You must be very disappointed.’

  Cathy’s eyes narrowed, ‘More than disappointed. I’m angry. She charged me a lot, and told me the liquid would definitely work. You have no idea how difficult it was to put the potion in his drink. We were in a pub and I waited until he went to the Gents. I kept looking round in case anyone saw me. I felt like a criminal. Then I could barely breathe waiting to see if he tasted it and spat it out. Luckily he didn’t.’

  ‘So have you told Edel it didn’t work?’ Alizon asked.

  Cathy nodded, ‘I went into her cafe yesterday and told her. She just laughed at me and said she wouldn’t give me my money back. Even said I was a gullible fool! I hate her!’

  The wailing sound of a police car rushing past almost swallowed her words.

  ‘What happened when you used the liquid?’ Alizon had visions of the man turning purple or growing extra ears or something equally grissly.

  ‘Nothing,’ Cathy said, raising an eyebrow, ‘that’s what happened. A big, fat, zero. And I’ve seen him since and nothing has happened to him or between us. I expect it was just coloured water she sold me. I could kill her!’

  Alizon put her hand on Cathy’s. ‘Come to my cafe when you can. I can give you a tonic that will help you feel yourself again. No charge.’

  Sniffing, Cathy wrenched a hankie out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Thank you, Alizon,’ she said, ‘I’ll do that. I’d better go now before I make a complete fool of myself.’

  Two

  Alizon finished her wine, said goodbye to friends and book-buyers and began her walk back home. Home was a flat over the bookshop and cafe. She often thought it had both its advantages and disadvantages. She loved having no commute and pitied people who travelled daily for an hour or more to their jobs in Cambridge. The disadvantage was it was too easy to go downstairs to fix something that needed doing. Things that would have waited until the next day if she lived elsewhere.

  But the two-bedroomed flat she shared with her white cat, Phantom, provided a haven against life’s difficulties. Even if the shop’s takings were bad, her love life with Grant less than perfect; or disagreements in her coven causing worry, her book-lined home always bought her comfort.

  As she walked from the Literary Festival, she noticed other people drifting away too. The final speaker had finished and there were only two book signings and refreshments before the school shut for the night. A pigeon flew onto a nearby post and crooned softly to itself, nodding its head as if agreeing with her. The traffic was thinning, and some shops were closing. She walked past the wrought-iron gates of the town cemetery with its ancient tombstones. They were so weathered by the passing years the names of the dead were obliterated and no-one alive remembered them.

  It was a peaceful place where Alizon sometimes sat for a respite from a busy day. But she wouldn’t be doing that today.

  Taking a deep breath, she stopped at Edel’s cafe to challenge her about the spell she’d cast. She checked her watch - yes, the cafe should be shutting up now if it hadn’t already done so. It would be a good time to have a difficult conversation. On the way, she chatted briefly to a couple of shop owners who were locking up. In a town as small as this, most of the shopkeepers knew each other. The Literary Festival had bought the hoped-for extra people to the town, and they were happy about their takings.

  As she approached Edel’s cafe, Alizon was glad her bookshop and cafe had done well, too. She needed every penny she could get before the quiet winter period with its thinner sales.

  Edel’s cafe was almost empty; just one middle-aged couple sitting at a table. They were sharing a carrot and walnut cake, carefully taking a bite each then passing the fork to the other one. They had a small pile of books on the table and Alizon was thrilled to see hers amongst them. Some lights had already been turned off and there was a Closed sign on the door. She could see a light on in the kitchen at the back and guessed Edel was clearing up or counting the day’s takings. Alizon rubbed her hands on her trouser legs and walked in, making the bell ring. The cafe had its own atmosphere as if the personality of the owner had seeped into every table and chair, every wall, every inch of floor. It was hard to walk in and not find your spirits lowering. But maybe that was only true if you were a Super, she mused.

  Edel peered round the door, hair sticking up at all angles, saw it was Alizon and disappeared again. After waiting a moment Alizon approached the kitchen, making her footsteps as loud as possible. Edel emerged and walked slowly towards her, shaking her head and muttering.

  ‘What do you want?’ she hurled the words out. The couple looked up in alarm.

  Alizon fought to keep calm, ‘Can we speak for a minute? I want to talk to you about what happened when I was doing my book talk.’

  Edel looked at the remaining customers, who were now gathering their things together. ‘You want to talk about this here? Now? I have no idea what you’re on about. Why would I go to listen to you waffle on about some crap book you’ve written?’

  ‘So you’ve read it then?’ Alizon asked, trying to keep her voice low.

  Edel snorted, ‘Do me a favour. Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than read your rubbish?’ Her voice rose louder.

  The woman in the couple stopped buttoning her coat and looked at Edel. ‘I was at Alizon’s talk and I’ve read the book, it’s good, very exciting. You must be thinki
ng of another one.’

  Edel totally ignored her and turned back to Alizon, but before she said anything else, the woman spoke to her again. ‘Is this your cafe? If not, your boss needs to fire you. The service was lousy and you’re very rude.’ Alizon observed the woman breathing fast; speaking out had obviously taken courage.

  Edel snarled and for a split second the woman saw behind the human mask to the bad witch behind. She gasped and stepped back, shaken, wary. She grabbed her husband’s arm, ‘Let’s get out of here, quick!’

  They left the cafe but they lingered outside, eager to watch the unfolding drama.

  Alizon turned back to Edel, ‘I have it on good authority that you tried to put a Forgetting Spell on me.’ She dropped her voice when mentioning spells. As far as she could tell the couple who just left were normals, and the glimpse of Edel’s real character had already spooked the woman.

  ‘Me? Waste my time spelling you? You’re out of your mind.’ Edel’s eyes narrowed and her jaw jutted forward.

  Alizon took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice down. ‘Don’t lie. You tried to ruin my talk. You were seen, and luckily for me you were stopped.’

  Edel stepped to the door and flung it open, banging it against the wall behind it, ‘Sod off, you stupid woman, coming here with your accusations! Go on, get out!’

  Alizon’s heart beat fast. She hated confrontation, and it had taken a lot for her to approach Edel. She expected an argument, but she’d never expected downright denial. But it was obvious she would not get anywhere. She frowned as she took a step towards the door, then saw the couple still standing watching the scene with their mouths open.

  Ignoring Edel, she smiled at them, ‘Sorry you had to see that!’ she said, hoping that the door had deadened talk of spells.

  …

  Three

  As Alizon got ready for the day next morning, she became aware of the scream of sirens going past her place, but was too busy to take much notice. Phantom, her pure white cat whose hair got everywhere, demanded to be fed and then let out. Then back in. Two minute later he wanted to go out again. Alizon’s flat had an external staircase with a cat-flap. Phantom refused to use it though when he could see her - asserting his dominance she supposed. But she knew when she was out, he went in and out at leisure. The occasional dead mouse proved that.