Sleigh Bells and Sleuthing, page 12
“Did you see the snake?” Nama asked me.
I jumped to my feet. “Snake? Where?”
Nama laughed, the lines at her brown eyes crinkling. “Red belly black snake. He won’t harm you. You leave him alone, he’ll leave you alone.”
I knew her words to be true. Red belly black snakes were nowhere near as deadly as the Eastern Browns that frequented the area, and nowhere near as aggressive as the Tiger Snakes.
“Oh, I forgot.” I handed her the plant. I had wrapped it in plain wrapping paper rather than Christmas paper.
Nama’s face broke into a wide grin. “Thank you, Thelma! A Billy Goat Plum. That’s just what I needed. It’ll be good for colds.”
I smiled at her obvious pleasure at my gift. “Here’s some Christmas cake, as well,” I added.
“And here’s your gift,” she said, producing a plant. “It’s a Kangaroo Apple. Crush it and use it if you ever have swellings. It can’t take the frost. Put it in a sheltered place, and bring it inside for the first few years.”
I was delighted. I knew the Kangaroo Apple would not grow over ten feet tall when fully mature, and so it would go well in my garden. Kangaroo Apples had gorgeous purple flowers and bore fruit but not apples, despite the name. The plant I had given Nama would grow tall, but she had the room for it.
I sipped my tea slowly, enjoying the serenity of Nama’s house. A fat ginger and white kitten rubbed his head against my legs, purring loudly. I picked him up and tickled him under his chin. “Thanks so much for hiding him here for me,” I said, “and thanks for finding him for me. Wolff’s been saying for ages that he wants a kitten.”
“Magical kitten, that one,” Nama said firmly. “Him and his brother. This cat will be with your family for a very long time. A very long time,” she said once more. “He’ll make your magic stronger.”
I knew there would be a deeper explanation. Nama’s traditional way of magic was not the same as my European way of magic, and sometimes there was simply no way to translate. I thanked her profusely.
I picked up the kitten and placed him gently in the cardboard box I had brought for the car ride home. I had told Wolff I would bring his present with me and warned him that he wasn’t to look out the window.
As I walked to my car, a sudden hot breeze stirred, whipping strands of hair across my face. I shook my head to clear the hair, given that I didn’t have a spare hand, and saw a black Ford sedan at the end of the street. Goosebumps broke out on my arms. For the last few days, I had suspected the car was following me.
Chapter Two
I brought the car to a stop outside my house, only too aware that the black Ford sedan parked a few houses behind me. I walked into my garden and stopped as a willy willy blew over me violently. Willy willies were miniature whirlwinds that seemingly sprang from nowhere. This one was small enough simply to lift my skirt. It sped down the road, taking with it little swirls of dead leaves before it dissipated.
I bent over my lavender bushes, pretending to inspect them, but in fact keeping an eye on the man who was now out of his car and was standing facing my direction.
After casting a quick glance at my wilting daisies and making a mental note to water them later, I hurried inside my house, out of the sun and away from the stranger.
When I opened the front door, Wolff was nowhere to be seen, so I walked into the living room and placed the box on the floor.
I took out the kitten and held him to me. He purred so loudly that his whole body vibrated. I put him down and dangled one of the homemade paper chains from the Christmas tree in front of him, much to his delight. Our Christmas tree was no grand affair like those of our northern neighbours, but a gum sapling cut down and stuck, unceremoniously, in a pot.
I smiled at the snow-covered Christmas decorations under the Christmas tree. While witches in the northern hemisphere are celebrating Yule, here in the southern hemisphere, Christmas falls at midsummer, so I had celebrated Litha, the pagan summer solstice, three days earlier. Here our sun-oriented rooms face north, while sun-facing rooms in the northern hemisphere are towards the south.
There was still no sign of Wolff, so I put the kitten in the laundry room with food and water. He didn’t seem interested in either, but climbed back into the cardboard box and went to sleep.
As I walked back into the hall, Wolff came out of our bedroom and embraced me. “Your gift’s in the living room,” he said. “I do hope you like it.” His eyes twinkled with anticipation.
On my way to the living room, I heard a loud meow. I looked at Wolff, but he didn’t comment. Perhaps he hadn’t heard him.
I wondered what Wolff’s gift could be. We had agreed not to buy each other gifts—after all, the Great Depression had ended only recently. Wolff had a good job teaching science at the local school, and I was lucky enough to be one of the few people in town, if not in the state, to own a Silent Night refrigerator that actually ran on electricity and not kerosene. Who’d have thought such a thing was possible?
Still, we were both reeling from the shock of the Great Depression. Only a few years earlier, more than one third of the workforce in the entire country had been unemployed.
When I walked back into the living room, I gasped with shock as a piece of scrunched up paper flew at me. A ghost? I soon saw the culprit; an elegant black kitten darted after it and pounced on it.
I looked at Wolff with my mouth open. “A kitten? For me?” I laughed as I hurried over to the kitten and scooped him up. “Oh, you’re such a little darling,” I cooed, tickling him under his chin. “And you won’t be lonely.”
“What do you mean?” Wolff looked puzzled. “Do you like him?”
“I love him,” I said, “but it seems great minds think alike. I got you a kitten for Christmas, too. He’s in the laundry room.”
Wolff walked from the room with large strides, and I sat down on the couch with the black kitten on my knee. “I’m going to call you Willow,” I said, “because Willow is good for witches’ wands.” The little kitten purred loudly and rubbed his head on my hand.
Wolff burst through the door, clutching the fat ginger kitten to him, an unmistakable look of delight on his face. “This is the best Christmas gift ever, Thelma. Thanks so much!”
We put the kittens on the ground, chuckling as they played with each other. “They’re going to be best friends,” Wolff said. “Where did you hide the kitten all this time? I hid mine with Nama.”
“Nama?” I said in surprise. “That’s where I hid your kitten. They’re about the same age; they must be litter brothers. She told me he was a magical cat.”
Wolff laughed. “That’s what she said about your kitten too.”
A loud knock on the door disturbed us. “Who could that be?” I asked in alarm. “Who would call by, uninvited, on Christmas Day?”
“We’ll soon find out!” Wolff climbed to his feet. He returned moments later with our neighbour, Mavis Fuller. It was obvious she had been crying.
Mavis threw her arms skyward. “The police just found my husband’s body!”
Chapter Three
Wolff had the presence of mind to show Mavis to a seat. I sat in shock, my jaw hanging open.
Mavis threw herself on the couch and promptly burst into tears. Wolff and I exchanged worried glances. Wolff offered her his handkerchief, which she took readily and held over her face. “The police have just questioned me for ages,” she said, when she finally managed to speak. “They’ll think I did it.”
“I’m sure they won’t,” I said soothingly. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
I hurried to the kitchen to boil the electric kettle, hoping I wouldn’t miss any of her explanation while I was out of the room. In my haste, I didn’t even pour boiling water into the teapot first to prepare it, as I had been taught by my mother. I threw some Bushells tea leaves in the pot and then turned the electric kettle off when it looked almost boiled. I poured some hot water into the teapot. I grabbed the bottle of milk and poured some milk into a little jug which I placed on the tray with the sugar server, along with the teapot and three teacups.
When I got back to the living room, I was relieved that Mavis wasn’t talking. It seemed I had not missed anything.
“We were waiting until you came,” Wolff said.
I nodded my thanks. “I’ll let the tea brew for a little while first.”
Mavis clutched Wolff’s handkerchief to her ample bosom. She took a deep breath before speaking. “The police came to see me and said…” Her voice trailed away.
Silence descended on the room for a full minute. As much as I had sympathy for her, I wanted to shake her and yell, “Spit it out, woman!” Of course, that would be most unseemly for a lady, so I held my peace, as my mother would say.
Mavis showed no sign of continuing. I poured tea into her tea cup. I added milk and sugar and gave it a good stir. I saw with relief that some steam was coming off it, so perhaps it was hot enough after all. I handed it to her and she took a sip. The saucer shook continually in her hand.
“The police came to see me. They just found Henry’s body,” she said again.
Wolff and I nodded encouragingly, and she pushed on. “You know how it’s been dry around here lately?”
I nodded again, but Wolff spoke. “Yes, it’s been horribly dry. The kangaroos are coming into town. Why, I saw five on our front lawn the other day. There’s nothing for them to eat now so they’re eating people’s gardens, poor things.”
“Well, last Christmas was quite a wet season,” Mavis said, “and that’s the problem. My husband went missing last Christmas Day. I assumed he ran off with that loose woman, Florrie Fisher, but she stayed in town.” The saucer jiggled even more so. “You know that big dam right on the edge of town?”
“Yes,” Wolff and I said in unison.
“Have you noticed that it’s been running dry?”
“Yes,” I said again, this time through gritted teeth. I just wanted her to come to the point.
Her saucer shook so much that I took it from her and put it on the table. “Do go on,” I said, rather more firmly than I should.
“The police said the dam is so dry now that there’s only about a foot of water in it, and the last few days have been even dryer. This morning, someone saw a car with bones in it right in the middle of the dam.”
“Was it Henry?” I asked her.
She nodded furiously. “Yes. It was his car and his clothes. And the police said there was a hole right through his skull.” She shuddered. “Someone shot him in the head and then pushed his car into the dam.”
“But how?” I said, more to myself than to anyone.
“It was likely from that bank directly above the dam,” Wolff pointed out. “Someone must’ve pushed the car to the top of the bank and then pushed it into the river. It wouldn’t take much effort for someone to do that if the car was already at the top of the bank.”
He gave me a significant look as he said it, and I knew what he was thinking—that Mavis herself might have killed her husband. Plus, she was a good shot. It was all over town that she had shot three Tiger Snakes in her yard in the previous week. She had the means, and she most likely had the opportunity, but did she have the motive?
“You must be so terribly upset,” I said, fishing for information.
“Yes, I am.” She reached forward and picked up her cup and saucer, and then downed the rest of the tea in one gulp. Clearly, the tea hadn’t been hot enough, after all. She placed the cup and saucer back down, straightened up, and then announced, “I wanted Henry to leave. His death is my fault.”
I was shocked. “You shot him?”
Mavis’s hand flew to her throat. “Of course not!” she said in horror. “I did a hotfoot work and then a separation vinegar bottle.”
I tried to process the information. “You mean you wrote both your names on a piece of paper, tore the paper to separate the names, and then placed them in a bottle with the vinegar?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Mavis said. “I added black pepper, bluestone, and capsicum. I did it for the month before he disappeared. I also put an upside down black candle on his name. I sprinkled bluestone and black pepper around it and put those ritual remains into the vinegar bottle. I put the bottle in my kitchen and shook it every time I went past, and focused that he would leave the house.”
She sighed long and hard. “I also put bluestone and black pepper in his shoes every night. And then last Christmas Day, I went to the Christmas Day Picnic, and when I came home, he wasn’t there. He’d taken all his clothes and so I figured he’d run away with that floozy, Florrie. You can imagine my surprise when I saw her the next day. I think he must’ve had other women that I didn’t even know about.”
“So you and Henry didn’t get on well?” Wolff asked her.
She shook her head. “No, we didn’t. I knew he had other women, and in the end, he made no attempt to hide it from me. Of course he didn’t name them. I thought if he’d run away with anyone, it would’ve been Florrie, but it must’ve been someone else.”
“Why would the police think it was you?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Probably because I’m a good shot and Henry was shot right through the head, and everyone in town knew we had a bad marriage. I mean, they haven’t accused me, not yet, but they will soon.”
Wolff opened the sash window behind my grandmother’s old cedar chiffonier, causing the crystal drops on the pair of blue glass lustres to tinkle. He turned back to Mavis. “What do you mean?”
“That nice Sergeant Peterson doesn’t think it’s me, but he said he goes off duty tonight, and then he’s away for five weeks. He’s being replaced by an out-of-towner, Sergeant Colebrook. That man’s always had it in for me. Anyway, Colebrook was a close friend of Henry’s, and he’s on the take.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“He’s a crook,” Wolff supplied.
Mavis nodded frantically. “Sergeant Colebrook’s a nasty man. Every time he came to town, he made remarks implying that I’d killed my husband.” She seemed momentarily distracted. “Two kittens, Thelma? I thought you were getting Wolff just one?”
I picked up the happily purring black kitten and placed him on her knee. “Wolff gave me this one for Christmas.” To forestall more questions about the kittens, I asked her, “Surely justice will prevail, at least in such a serious situation as murder.”
“I’m afraid Mavis’s right,” Wolff said, “and that means the mystery has to be solved today. I don’t want to upset you, Mavis, but Sergeant Colebrook won’t bother for looking for any suspects.”
I sighed. I had been looking forward to a lovely Christmas Day with Wolff. A thought occurred to me. “Does he drive a black Ford sedan?”
“I think it’s a blue Buick,” Mavis said. “I haven’t seen much of him, though. Like I said, he’s an out-of-towner. He only comes here when one of the officers is on leave.”
Wolff held up a hand. “Thelma, why did you mention a black Ford?”
“It’s probably nothing,” I admitted, “but lately I’ve had the feeling I was being followed. I saw the black Ford when I was at Nama’s just then, and he followed me back. He parked down the road and got out of his car.”
Without further ado, Wolff rushed outside.
I turned to Mavis. “Why did you say it was your fault Henry died?”
“It was the spells,” she said as if that should be obvious. “I did a work to separate Henry from me. I was so happy last Christmas Day after he went missing. It was the happiest day of my life. Thelma, do you think my spells killed him?”
I hurried to reassure her. “Of course not, Mavis! You didn’t do a spell to kill him, of course, just a spell to get him out of your life.”
“Well, whoever shot him got him out of my life,” Mavis said, wailing once more. “I feel I’m responsible. Thelma, you must help me.” She placed the kitten on the floor, and he bounded on top of the ginger kitten, sending him flying.
Just then, Wolff hurried into the house. “A stranger was right outside. When he saw me, he got in his car and drove off. It’s suspicious all right. Thelma, please tell me the second you see him again. And be careful.”
I ran one hand through my hair. “Sure.” I was apprehensive now that Wolff was clearly worried.
Mavis shifted in her seat. “Do you think that man had anything to do with Henry’s death?”
Wolff shook his head. “I can’t see how. I’ve never seen the car before, and Henry was killed last Christmas. Anyway Mavis, we’ll do what we can to help you.”
“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Mavis’s voice once more approached the hysterical. “Thelma needs to reverse the spell for me. Thelma, you’re the most powerful witch in town.” As she finished speaking, the crystals tinkled loudly in a sudden rush of wind.
“I’m one of three witches in town,” I said dryly, “me, you, and Jasmine Walters. Well, if you don’t count Nama, who is a powerful woman. It’s all a question of terminology, I suppose.” I stopped talking when I realised I was going off on one of my tangents.
“Jasmine Walters is a nasty piece of work,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she shot Henry.”
I thought it over. “I don’t like Jasmine at all, but I can’t imagine what reason she’d have for wanting to shoot Henry.”
“I suppose so. Anyway Thelma, I want you to reverse the spell.”
I was alarmed. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? You did a spell a year ago and now your husband’s been shot. I can hardly bring him back to life.”
“I don’t want you to bring him back,” Mavis said with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m asking, really. I just want you to help me, Thelma, and I don’t really know with what. It’s just, well, you’re my only friend.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve as she said it.
I felt so sorry for her. She lived just down the road from me, and she was all alone on Christmas. Her husband’s body had just been found and the police would no doubt soon suspect her. It couldn’t be easy. “How about I do a spell to reveal who the murderer is to the police?”
