The Case of the Haunted House Page 2

  No matter how much I peered, I couldn’t make out what creature was supposed to be in the centre of the fountain. Whatever it was, carved figures were staring adoringly its way, while they stood under the water which spewed from its mouth and obscured it from view.

  ‘Maybe it’s a … unicorn?’ Hamish suggested.

  ‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s a … a rhinoceros. A magical rhinoceros. No, wait … is that another horn on its head?’

  ‘Could be. The water makes it too hard to see. It’s a very befuddling fountain. And is it–?’

  At that moment, Angelica placed two large plates in front of us, cutting off whatever further confused observations we might have made.

  ‘I’ve given you both extra pancakes, because I couldn’t help but notice how busy your business has become. And the busier it gets, the skinnier the two of you become. You’ll waste away to nothing if someone doesn’t start fattening you up soon.’ She wiggled her finger, and a pot of tea appeared in front of me, while a bowl of coffee was now in front of Hamish.

  Hamish took a few leisurely laps from his bowl and then said, ‘We were thinking. About Skeleton Skies. The musical version is supposed to be even more emotional than the original play, isn’t it?’

  Angelica nodded earnestly. ‘It really is. It’s so moving. You’ll weep. You’ll laugh. You’ll weep some more. I’ve been lucky enough to see it twice already. I’d watch it every single night if I could.’

  ‘That seems to be what everyone says about it,’ I said with a wistful sigh, leaning closer to her. ‘The problem is, Angelica, we can’t go,’ I told her. ‘Not with you. No matter how much we want to. I mean, I’ve looked up the tickets online, and if I book it myself it’ll be next year before we get to see it. We don’t know the right people, it seems.’

  I shrugged casually, and turned my attention to my pancakes. ‘It’s a pity. We have no problem with you, personally. We’d go with you if we could, but we don’t want to risk getting in the middle of two feuding sisters.’

  Angelica looked over her shoulder, checking that Ned was nowhere in sight, before whispering, ‘I won’t tell my sister if you don’t.’

  ‘Really?’ Hamish rounded his eyes. ‘You think we ought to go for a night out together in secret. Oh, I don’t know about that, I mean … I want to, but … we couldn’t ask you to lie for us. Maybe … maybe we’d all feel a bit better about it if we went to dinner together afterwards. Katy and I still have our reservation at that fancy restaurant. We could easily make it a table for three. Katy’s paying.’

  ‘You’d really want to take me out for dinner, Katy?’ Angelica blushed. ‘That’s so generous.’

  I was busy savouring the most delicious pancake I’d ever had, but I swallowed quickly and said, ‘It’s not generous. It’s necessary. I don’t like lying, you see. So tonight, when Hamish and I tell Ned we’re going out to dinner together, at least we’re partially telling the truth. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to chat with you properly. Get to the bottom of this feud between you and your sister. We love Ned. So if we feel like we’re trying to help her fix her relationship with you, then maybe we won’t feel so bad about going out with you.’

  And, I didn’t add, we might be able to turn the conversation in a direction that helped us find the Decree of the Deceased.

  She smiled tentatively, checking over her shoulder once more before sitting on the side of the table. ‘That’s what I want, too. To fix things with Ned. And getting to know the two of you in the process will be a happy bonus. The truth is, other than the Not-So-Strange Society, I’ve been having difficulty making friends since I moved back to the enclave. Most of the residents are still stuck in their old ways – you know, crime, grime and despicable plumbing. Listen, the musical starts at six-thirty. What time is your dinner reservation?’

  ‘Um, how long is the musical?’

  ‘Three hours.’

  ‘How perfect is that? It’s like kismet. I have the meal booked for ten,’ I said quickly. Or at least it would be booked for that time, once I’d changed it. ‘We like to eat late.’

  Angelica’s face lit up. ‘That is perfect! Tonight’s meeting of the society ends at six – it starts just after five, though, so if you can catch even a few minutes of the meeting, that’d be great. If not, don’t worry. Just come about six, and the three of us will head off to the musical.’

  Hamish nodded enthusiastically, while I did my best to remain neutral. On the surface of it, Angelica’s Not-So-Strange Society seemed just as lovely as this entire street. Their goal was to clean the rest of the enclave up and make it a safer place for everyone to live. Their pamphlet also said they aimed to create a better relationship between Samhain Street and the other witch-run enclaves – something I could definitely get on board with.

  The problem, though, was that Angelica was involved. Yes, she seemed to be made of sweetness and light, but according to Ned, her sister wasn’t quite as lovely as she appeared. I’d gotten to know Ned very well over our weeks together. She had good instincts, and she constantly told me that if her sister was involved in the Not-So-Strange Society, then the society must be dodgy.

  I knew I should check out one of their meetings, just to put my mind at rest. Tonight, I supposed, was as good a night as ever. ‘Well, we’ll see if we have time for the meeting. We’ll definitely do dinner and the musical together, though. But remember …’

  She mimed locking her lips shut and throwing away the key. ‘Not a word to Ned. I won’t forget.’ She looked searchingly at me. ‘But you know what, Katy? I think my sister is incredibly lucky to have a friend like you.’

  3. A Ghost of a Chance

  As Hamish and I walked back across the road to our office, I thought about what Angelica said.

  Was I a good friend? I wasn’t so sure. As much as I wished otherwise, I feared that I was just as bad as the irritating Cullen Keats. Nay, I was worse, because at least part of what Cullen told people was true.

  Yes, he was now working undercover to infiltrate the Warlock Society, but at one stage he had really been a warlock. He was also honest when he told people he had been a broom thief and a love-potion dealer in the past. His backstory was one hundred percent true.

  My own backstory, on the other hand, was a load of utter codswallop. I’d told my new friends that I was an unempowered witch who grew up in the human world with no idea that the supernatural world even existed. I further fleshed things out by saying that a long-lost relative had written to me, telling me the truth about my origins and sending me the necklace I wore today – a necklace which enabled me to access the supernatural enclaves.

  But the truth about me was far, far different. I wasn’t any kind of witch, unempowered or otherwise. Instead, I was something witches hated – I was a witch hunter.

  Hunting was a family profession, almost always done by the men. I knew of only one female hunter before me – my great-aunt Jude – and no one knew where she was right now. But studying her notebooks and using her Toolkit had taught me that I had more in common with Jude than a set of ovaries.

  Like my great aunt, I wasn’t interested in tracking down and killing people just because they happened to be witches. I was determined to use my hunter instincts for the better. When I tracked down a witch, I wanted it to be because they’d committed some actual crimes.

  That was how I wound up living with Ned, in fact. My uncle – a hunter who did like to kill witches just for the crime of existing – had sent me to find Ned’s former flatmate, Diane Carey. He was convinced Diane was the one responsible for a string of murders, in which every guy she’d ever been on a date with wound up dead.

  But instead of killing her, or sending her to the Dimension of the Damned, as my uncle would have preferred, I’d kept Diane and her friends safe, and caught the real killer instead.

  Yes, I’d saved all of their lives. But I wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be enough of a reason for them to forgive my lie. As you might imagine, witch hunters – even well-intentioned ones like me – weren’t exactly popular in the magical enclaves. Especially seeing as a hunter was responsible for the murder of Ned’s mother. I was terrified of what might happen once my friends discovered the truth. Was there any way I could make them believe I wasn’t a typical hunter?

  The Wayfarers knew the risks just as well as I did, which was why they were keeping my true nature a secret. Unbeknownst to my friends, I was working with the Wayfarers now – to make sure my uncle never found his way into the supernatural enclaves, and to make sure the people of Samhain Street got the help they didn’t know they needed. Whenever a case came my way which seemed like it needed some police involvement, it was my job to keep the Wayfarers in the loop.

  As a person who hated lying as much as I hated Turkish Delight, I was not enjoying the subterfuge. But I was nothing if not stupidly hopeful. One day soon, when Ned and Hamish knew me well enough, when they fully trusted that I was truly their friend, then I could tell them the truth. Because if I had to lie for much longer, well … the stress might kill me before my friends could.

  ‘I think that might have been the best breakfast I ever had,’ Hamish said as he took a seat at his reception desk. The buckle on his hat began to shine. The buckle was an OAP (an object of awesome power) and was his main source for channelling magic, now that he was stuck as a dog. With a twirl of his paw to direct the magic, his appointments book opened up, flicking straight to today’s page. ‘I vote we go to Angel Cakes for breakfast tomorrow morning, too.’

  ‘We’ll see how tonight goes first,’ I cautioned. ‘Angelica might smile and sing a lot, but that doesn’t make her a fool. We need to play it cool.’

  ‘Sure.’ Hamish gave me an unconvincing nod. ‘I can do that. But I mean … how cool exact
ly? Because I saw someone eating her eggs Benedict, and it looked amazing.’

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention to our appointments. Our entire afternoon was filled with call-backs regarding cheating partners. And yes, we were going to have to give every single client some bad news.

  ‘I’m not looking forward to telling the guy who owns the Rusty Warlock that his girlfriend has been cheating with the leader of the Sobriety Society, are you?’

  Hamish shrugged. ‘They’re mortal enemies. Once we break that news, someone is probably going to wind up dead.’

  I’d been here long enough to know that he was probably right – which was why I’d already given the Wayfarers the heads-up. Extra officers were going to be posted in the area for the next few days, just in case.

  ‘Oh, I think it might be all right,’ I said, trying to look innocent. ‘Fingers crossed, anyway. At least we have a few hours to go before we have to break the news.’

  For now, we had our walk-in morning. We’d discovered that a lot of people on Samhain Street felt better about things that they could do on the spur of the moment. After all, who knew when an illegal spell might go wrong? Or when the Wayfarers might suddenly arrive to question you? Because a large portion of our clients had to worry about such things, we reserved a couple of mornings a week when they could simply drop by without an appointment.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ I asked. ‘The pancakes were amazing, but the tea wasn’t strong enough for me. I might as well have one now, before our first shady customer of the day arrives.’

  ‘Sure. I’ll have a coffee. Maybe I’ll have one of those muffins we picked up yesterday as well. Angelica was right, you know. You and I really need to put on some weight. When Diane gets back from rehab she’s going to think I’ve wasted away.’

  I was just about to ask him for the timeframe on that (I was living in Diane’s old bedroom, after all) when I heard the distinctive sound of a cat licking herself.

  I looked over at the false shelf that connected us to Ned’s shop. Cleo, Ned’s familiar, was sitting on the ground in front of it, washing her paws. She was a beautiful cat, with unusual blue eyes, and mostly-cream fur with brownish colouring on her face and ears. But her beauty, unfortunately, was only fur-deep. Inside, she was filled with nothing but sarcasm.

  The shelf was firmly shut, but I’d long since learned that magical animals had their own ways of getting around. I decided to send a smile her way. My breakfast had been fortifying enough to help me deal with even the most sarcastic of cats.

  ‘You two are deluded,’ she said. ‘You definitely shouldn’t eat those muffins. Not unless they’re laced with a poop-potion. You both need to shed the pounds, not put any more on.’

  ‘That’s not nice,’ I said, dropping my smile. ‘And neither is washing yourself with your tongue.’

  She sniggered. ‘You could use my help when you’re washing your hair. It might be less frizzy, then.’

  With my good mood well and truly vanishing, I added an extra sugar to my tea, fixing Hamish’s bowl of coffee while I was at it, doing my best to ignore the cat all the while.

  ‘There’ll be a customer through in a minute,’ she said. ‘Shall I tell you about her?’

  Well, fluff her, anyway. She certainly wasn’t easy to ignore.

  ‘Listen, if you’re trying to make me believe you can see the future again, then give over,’ said Hamish. ‘I didnae believe you before, and I dinnae believe you now.’

  Yes, he did say didnae and dinnae. That’s because when he was angry, he got more Scottish than usual. And if anyone could provoke such a level of anger, it was Ned’s familiar.

  ‘Oh, stick a sock up your kilt,’ said Cleo. ‘I’m not psychic, just observant. Ned’s got someone in there who she’s really trying to send your way. But she doesn’t have a ghost of a chance of palming that woman off on you two idiots. Hah! A ghost of a chance. You’ll find out why that’s funny in one, two, three …’

  As she spoke, the shelf-door opened, and Ned walked in, leading a woman behind her. It was difficult to tell with witches, as so many of them used glamour spells to keep themselves looking young, but I put this witch in her late forties or early fifties. She had curled blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and her suit was about the pinkest thing I’d ever seen.

  ‘I don’t know about this, Nedina,’ she said.

  ‘It’s Ned. Never use my full name. And I’ve told you before, Mrs McGinty. I will not banish a ghost for you, not until I know more about him. This situation needs more investigation, and Katy and Hamish are excellent PIs.’

  Taking that as my cue, I approached Mrs McGinty. She was quivering from her head to her toes.

  ‘Mrs McGinty? Are you all right? We have plenty of comfortable seats available if you’d like to have a rest.’

  Her eyes darted around the room. ‘I’m not sure if I want to get comfortable. For all I know, he’s followed me here.’

  ‘He?’

  She shivered, hugging herself with her arms. ‘My gh-gh-ghost.’

  Ned looked decidedly tense. I’d never seen her like that with one of her customers. ‘Mrs McGinty believes she’s being haunted by her deceased husband,’ she informed me through gritted teeth. ‘Cleo and I can’t see him at the moment, though, so he’s probably still bound to the house. It takes a while for ghosts to be able to move about normally.’

  ‘Ah,’ I said. ‘That makes sense. Hamish, get Mrs McGinty something nice and soothing to drink, will you? I think Ned and I need to have a chat.’

  I pulled Ned over to my desk. We had arranged the shelving around the desk to give me a private area when talking with clients. Right now, I wanted to shield us from the latest client.

  ‘Obviously I lied just a moment ago,’ I whispered. ‘This doesn’t make sense to me. Why do you want Hamish and me to work with this woman? I don’t know anything about ghosts. I mean, Hamish said you and Cleo can communicate with the dead but … can her husband really be haunting her? I thought there was a rule that ghosts only came back at Halloween.’

  Ned sat on the desk, holding her head and groaning in exasperation. ‘It’s complicated. Yes, technically what you’re saying is true – ghosts walk the earth on Halloween, visiting their relatives. It’s a lovely event, and even though not everyone can see them, most people are happy with the arrangement. But some dead people … well, they don’t play by the rules. Sometimes it’s because they’re stubborn, and sometimes it’s because they’re just plain stuck. Where those ghosts are concerned there are only a few people who can see them. And I’m one of those unlucky few. So is Cleo.’

  She pulled hard at her earring, looking like she might be about to scream. ‘I don’t like it, but where my job is concerned, it’s useful. It means that the person is eager to return, so I can at least perform some sort of medium-service between the dead and the living, even if full return to life isn’t possible. But sometimes … sometimes it’s not so useful. Sometimes it’s just plain bad.’

  I looked closely at her. ‘And this is bad, isn’t it? I can see that you’re tense around this woman, Ned. Don’t you like her?’

  She peeped out at the reception area, and I followed her eyes. Mrs McGinty was nervously accepting the tea that Hamish had magicked her way. ‘I don’t know if I like her, dislike her, or feel sorry for her,’ Ned admitted in a whisper. ‘Either way, Mrs McGinty doesn’t want her husband back. He’s been dead three months. At first I thought she was just dragging her heels, but now she’s admitted that she has no intention of honouring his Decree of the Deceased. She doesn’t want to bring him back from the dead. She wants me to get rid of him altogether. To banish his ghost or even destroy it if that’s all I can do. But …’

  ‘But what?’

  She took a deep breath before replying. ‘For one thing, getting rid of a stubborn ghost is no easy task. And for another thing, well … according to Mrs McGinty, the ghost of her husband is saying he was murdered.’