think?” She held up her latest project. A red and white striped scarf.
“Very nice.” It was hard to get excited about yet another scarf.
“Don’t forget to call Mr Peterson.”
“I won’t, but I’d better check on Winky first.”
Mrs V harrumphed her disapproval.
Winky didn’t look happy, but when did he ever? He was perched on my desk as usual. I glanced at the blind and could see small tufts of fur stuck between the slats. That must have hurt.
“When are you ever going to learn?”
“If that stupid woman had got me out, I wouldn’t have lost my fur.”
“You can speak?”
“Of course I can speak.”
“You can speak.”
“You said that already. Now why don’t you sack that useless old woman, and bring in a pretty young thing who loves cats?”
My mother had mentioned that I might notice other changes now that I’d inherited a witch’s powers. This must be one of them. I wasn’t going crazy after all.
“Well?” Winky demanded. “Are you going to sack the old bag?”
“No. And you mustn’t call her that. Mrs V is a sweet thing.”
“Sweet? Are you kidding? She hates me.”
“You make it easy to hate you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the way you treat me, and I rescued you.”
“Whoa. Just hold on. What do you mean you rescued me? I was the one who chose you. You should be honoured. I could have chosen anyone.”
“ You chose me ?”
“Of course. Why else would I be here? And it’s high time you showed me a little more gratitude—starting with the occasional tin of salmon. Red not pink. Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“I’m glad we’ve got that sorted.” He licked his lips. “Now where’s that salmon?”
“This way, sir.”
Winky followed me across the room.
“What do you call that?” he said when I emptied a can of cat food into his dish.
“It’s called ‘like it or lump it’.”
I made a call to Danny Peterson.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before now. Things have been a bit hectic.”
“Any more news?”
“Nothing so far. I’ve spoken to the husbands of the first two victims, and there is nothing obvious to connect those murders to that of your girlfriend.”
“That’s just the point isn’t it? The only connection is the name. He chose Caroline because her name was Fox.”
“He?”
“Aren’t all serial killers men?”
“Most,” I conceded. “I still have a couple more people to talk to. I’ll keep you posted.”
Caroline Fox had no immediate family, so I decided to call in at her place of work. Maybe her work colleagues could give me more information about her. Danny had actually told me very little other than the two of them were in love and had planned to get engaged.
Caroline had worked at Washbridge Travel, a small, local travel agent on the outskirts of the town. I didn’t bother to make an appointment—I didn’t want to give them an opportunity to refuse to see me.
“Good afternoon, madam.” The young woman with flamingo earrings, and an overdose of tan greeted me as soon as I walked through the door.
I’d known it was a small, independent concern, but I hadn’t realised just how small. In the main shop there were only two desks. At the rear was a glass-fronted office.
“Good afternoon,” I said.
“I’m Beth. Is there anything in particular I can help you with today?”
“Actually, Beth, I’m not here to book a holiday. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Caroline Fox.”
Beth’s smile evaporated. “Caroline?”
“My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired to look into Caroline’s murder.”
“Poor Caroline.” The woman seemed visibly shaken. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Of course. Shall I get you a drink or something?”
“No, I’m okay. It’s all so horrible. I still can’t understand why anyone would do something like that. Caroline was such a lovely person.”
“Were you and she close friends?”
“Not friends
“Very nice.” It was hard to get excited about yet another scarf.
“Don’t forget to call Mr Peterson.”
“I won’t, but I’d better check on Winky first.”
Mrs V harrumphed her disapproval.
Winky didn’t look happy, but when did he ever? He was perched on my desk as usual. I glanced at the blind and could see small tufts of fur stuck between the slats. That must have hurt.
“When are you ever going to learn?”
“If that stupid woman had got me out, I wouldn’t have lost my fur.”
“You can speak?”
“Of course I can speak.”
“You can speak.”
“You said that already. Now why don’t you sack that useless old woman, and bring in a pretty young thing who loves cats?”
My mother had mentioned that I might notice other changes now that I’d inherited a witch’s powers. This must be one of them. I wasn’t going crazy after all.
“Well?” Winky demanded. “Are you going to sack the old bag?”
“No. And you mustn’t call her that. Mrs V is a sweet thing.”
“Sweet? Are you kidding? She hates me.”
“You make it easy to hate you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the way you treat me, and I rescued you.”
“Whoa. Just hold on. What do you mean you rescued me? I was the one who chose you. You should be honoured. I could have chosen anyone.”
“ You chose me ?”
“Of course. Why else would I be here? And it’s high time you showed me a little more gratitude—starting with the occasional tin of salmon. Red not pink. Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“I’m glad we’ve got that sorted.” He licked his lips. “Now where’s that salmon?”
“This way, sir.”
Winky followed me across the room.
“What do you call that?” he said when I emptied a can of cat food into his dish.
“It’s called ‘like it or lump it’.”
I made a call to Danny Peterson.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before now. Things have been a bit hectic.”
“Any more news?”
“Nothing so far. I’ve spoken to the husbands of the first two victims, and there is nothing obvious to connect those murders to that of your girlfriend.”
“That’s just the point isn’t it? The only connection is the name. He chose Caroline because her name was Fox.”
“He?”
“Aren’t all serial killers men?”
“Most,” I conceded. “I still have a couple more people to talk to. I’ll keep you posted.”
Caroline Fox had no immediate family, so I decided to call in at her place of work. Maybe her work colleagues could give me more information about her. Danny had actually told me very little other than the two of them were in love and had planned to get engaged.
Caroline had worked at Washbridge Travel, a small, local travel agent on the outskirts of the town. I didn’t bother to make an appointment—I didn’t want to give them an opportunity to refuse to see me.
“Good afternoon, madam.” The young woman with flamingo earrings, and an overdose of tan greeted me as soon as I walked through the door.
I’d known it was a small, independent concern, but I hadn’t realised just how small. In the main shop there were only two desks. At the rear was a glass-fronted office.
“Good afternoon,” I said.
“I’m Beth. Is there anything in particular I can help you with today?”
“Actually, Beth, I’m not here to book a holiday. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Caroline Fox.”
Beth’s smile evaporated. “Caroline?”
“My name is Jill Gooder. I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired to look into Caroline’s murder.”
“Poor Caroline.” The woman seemed visibly shaken. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“Of course. Shall I get you a drink or something?”
“No, I’m okay. It’s all so horrible. I still can’t understand why anyone would do something like that. Caroline was such a lovely person.”
“Were you and she close friends?”
“Not friends
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