“Yes, but why?” wailed Monk. “I thought you were working for Permelia Wycliffe, not investigating her!”
It was another excellent point.
“Yes, we are.”
“You are what? Doing both?”
She sighed. “I know it looks like that at the moment. But Monk, something’s not right. There’s too much of the peculiar going on at Wycliffe’s. Raised voices. Mysterious meetings. Even more mysterious crystal ball conversations. And now Permelia’s got that dotty Eudora Telford running secret errands for her. It’s just very odd, Monk, and I don’t like odd. I like things neat and tidy and properly explained-and if possible filed alphabetically and correctly taxed. Besides. Eudora Telford’s such a scatty old thing she really does need a few guardian angels making sure she’s safe.”
“Well, yes, I suppose so,” said Monk, still unhappy. “But why do you three have to take on the job?”
“Because nobody else was available at such short notice.”
“You know,” he said, sounding desperate, “I could stop you. I could whammy the engine. Swallow the ignition key.”
Bibbie tugged down the driver’s window. “You could certainly try. Tell me, Monk, would you prefer one black eye or a matched pair?”
“ Bibbie — ”
She shrugged. “It’s only polite to offer you a choice.”
“Then please, please, at least let me come with you!”
Melissande sighed, and this time did reach up to kiss Monk’s cheek. “No. Now stop worrying, Monk. I’m a princess, remember, and an ex-prime minister. I’m perfectly capable of driving around the city for an evening. Reg is in no danger at all, and as for Bibbie… you mustn’t let her youth and extravagant beauty fool you. Your sister is as tough as nails. A match for anyone and anything.”
His shoulders slumped. “I’m really not talking you out of this, am I?”
“No, Monk, you’re not,” said Bibbie. “You’re just making us cross.”
“Reg and I will take good care of her,” Melissande promised. “Our royal word of honour.”
Monk kissed her cheek, a little closer to her lips than was entirely proper. “I’ll hold you to that.”
She felt herself blush. “Yes. Well,” she said, flustered. How embarrassing. “We should get going or we’ll be late. Don’t wait up. We’ll bring the jalopy back to you first thing in the morning.”
Leaving him adrift in the middle of the old stable yard, she squashed herself into the elderly car beside Bibbie and banged shut the passenger door.
“Right,” she said, as Bibbie closed her window. “You two do realise that we’re mad as hatters, attempting this?”
“Certainly,” said Bibbie.
“Stark staring bonkers,” said Reg.
“If Permelia Wycliffe finds out we were spying on her friend instead of trying to find her biscuit thief, she’ll sack us and make it her life’s work to see us ruined.”
“Of course she will,” said Bibbie.
“And she’d do a good job of it, too,” said Reg.
“So perhaps we should follow Monk’s suggestion, and stay home toasting crumpets?”
“I don’t think so,” said Bibbie, and started the engine.
“Wash your mouth out,” said Reg. “That’s a shameful suggestion.”
She sat back, feeling enormously pleased. “My sentiments exactly, gels. All right, then. Let’s get this done. Witches Inc. ho!”
An hour later they were still sitting in the jalopy, which they’d parked in the street outside Eudora Telford’s fussily neat little bungalow. It was located on the outskirts of North Ott, which wasn’t the richest part of the city, really it was rather shabby-genteel, but at least it wasn’t insalubrious. The low, steady thaumic lighting threw odd shadows over the world.
Melissande wriggled in her saggy-springed passenger seat, trying to find a comfortable way of squishing too much of herself into not enough space. “I don’t know, Reg. I do wish you’d managed to overhear a bit more of Permelia’s conversation with Eudora. I’d rather like to know if she’s a victim or a villain.”
“No, would you really?” said Reg. “I wouldn’t have cottoned onto that if you hadn’t already mentioned it forty-seven times.”
“Oh, come on, girls,” said Bibbie, sighing. “Enough squabbling. Let’s look on the bright side for once. At least we know for certain now that I can charm pertinent information out of government officials if I have to. That’s two young men at the Births, Deaths and Marriages Bureau who couldn’t have been more helpful.”
“Well, yes,” said Melissande. “Only I’m starting to have second thoughts about that.”
Bibbie stared at her. “About what?”
“You using your feminine wiles on unsuspecting file clerks.”
“I didn’t do anything unseemly!” Bibbie protested. “I just batted my eyelashes a bit and acted helpless, that’s all.”
“ All?” she echoed, letting her scepticism show.
“Well…” Bibbie’s lips twitched in a small smile. “Maybe I shed a few heartbreaking tears as well, and told an affecting tale of my ailing auntie whose address I’d misplaced. But honestly, Mel, how is it my fault if these clerks are so stupid they fall for that kind of nonsense?”
“Mmm,” said Melissande, and decided to let the subject drop. Mainly because she had a nasty sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t feel so critical if she possessed the kind of wiles that would work on unsuspecting file clerks. “It’s just a shame you couldn’t learn anything useful about the office staff. Especially since nobody’s triggered those hexes. I wonder if our thief realises we’re onto her?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” said Bibbie. “But let’s worry about that later.” She rubbed her gauntleted hands together. “Reg, are you sure Permelia told Eudora not to run this errand until after eight o’clock?”
Reg sighed. “Yes.”
“And you’re absolutely certain that’s the only piece of useful information you discovered? I mean, you were hanging upside down on the other side of a window with a curtain in front of it. And you’re not as young as you used to be. Maybe your memory’s playing tricks or-”
“And maybe you’d like to put a sock in it!” Reg retorted. “I heard what I heard and I know what I heard and I’ve told you everything I heard. It’s not my fault if three-quarters of the conversation was done with by the time I got there!”
“No, no, of course it’s not,” Melissande soothed, and shot Bibbie an annoyed look. “You did wonderfully well to hear what you did and make sense of it. But I do have to agree with Bibbie. I’d much rather be waiting for Eudora Telford at her destination than here outside her home. I mean, we’re not exactly what you’d call experienced at following people, are we?”
Reg sniffed. “Speak for yourself, ducky. I’m very good at it.”
“Yes, well, you’ve got what they call a natural advantage, haven’t you? But we’re stuck in this jalopy and-ow! What?”
Bibbie let go of her arm and pointed down the street. “Look. There’s a cab coming.”
“And here comes that wet hen Eudora Telford,” said Reg, staring at the bungalow. “We’re in business, girls.”
Melissande and Bibbie stared at her.
“What? I’m allowed to say wet hen,” said Reg. “I’m a bird.”
“Ha,” Bibbie muttered. “Only when it suits you.”
“Oh hush up, the pair of you,” said Melissande. “And get down, quick. We don’t want her to see us.”
As one they hunched down in their seats to watch Eudora Telford lock her front door behind her and hurry out to the waiting cab. She was wearing a dark coat over a plain dark dress and carrying a small reticule.
“Right,” said Reg, bobbing up as the cab pulled away with Eudora Telford inside it. “Follow that wet hen!”
There was a slight delay as an excited Bibbie momentarily forgot everything she’d ever been taught about driving a car. But after a fraught few moments filled with unladylike exclamations, the jalopy fired up and Bibbie steered it in Eudora Telford’s wake.
“Not too close!” said Reg. “You don’t want to put the wind up that cab driver. He might come over all chivalrous and try to do us a mischief. And not too far back either. There’s not a lot of traffic but we don’t want to lose them.”