The next morning, Jack was still basking in the glory of his bowling victory. I tried to be enthusiastic, but I was only half awake and much more interested in the full English he’d made for both of us.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, during a break in the frame by frame analysis of the previous night’s match. “I think we should get the sandpit taken out.”
“What brought that up?”
“It’s just that every morning when I come into the kitchen, I see it through the window, and wonder why we’ve got it.”
“You were the one who wanted it in the first place.”
“I know, but Mikey’s never been bothered about it, and even Lizzie seems to have grown tired of it. She didn’t go anywhere near it the last two times she came over. I thought it might be nice to reclaim our garden.”
“Can we afford it, what with all the wedding expenses?”
“Have you forgotten my brother-in-law is in the landscaping business? I’m sure Peter would be happy to do it for free.”
“You can’t expect him to do that. He’s running a business.”
“I was only joking about him doing it for free, but I bet he’ll give us a really good deal.”
“What about those funny little creatures that used to live in there?”
“Joey and Zoe? They moved out months ago, which is another good reason to get rid of it before some other sand sloths claim it for their home. I’ll have a word with Kathy and get her to mention it to Peter.”
Jack is a really slow eater. I’d already cleared my plate by the time he was half-way through his.
“Hey!” He knocked away my fork with his. “Leave my sausages alone.”
“I didn’t think you were going to eat them both.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You have the look of a man who is going to leave a sausage uneaten.”
“I’ll have you know that I intend to eat all of my sausages, and all of my bacon, and everything else on my plate, but I’d enjoy it a whole lot more if I didn’t have you hovering over me like a vulture.”
“Charming.” I stood up from the table. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
My husband-to-be could be so selfish sometimes.
I had to get out of the kitchen, otherwise I would have succumbed to the urge to grab one of his sausages, with or without his permission.
“Hey, Jack, it looks like our new next-door neighbour has moved in,” I shouted from the lounge.
“I don’t believe you. That’s just a ruse to get me to leave my breakfast unattended.”
“It’s true, there’s a van parked on the driveway. You should go around there and say hello.”
“And leave my breakfast for you to eat? No chance.”
Drat. He’d seen right through my cunning plan.
Just then, Jack’s phone rang.
“Chris? Good morning, Buddy.”
Chris Jardine was Jack’s bowling partner. He’d no doubt called Jack, so they could revel some more in their victory. I figured the phone call might have distracted him from his breakfast, so made my way furtively back through to the kitchen.
“What? How?”
I could tell from Jack’s voice and expression that something was badly wrong.
“I can’t believe it. How did you hear? Right. Okay, thanks for calling.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked as soon as he was off the call.
“It’s Bill Mellor. He died last night. Chris just got a call from Bill’s wife. Apparently, he collapsed not long after he got in from bowling.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Jack stood up and walked over to the window. “He was fine last night when we said our goodbyes.”
“Do they know what it was?”
“Chris didn’t say. A heart attack, I assume. Poor Crystal.”
“I take it Crystal is Bill’s wife?”
“Yes, she must be devastated.” Jack gestured to his breakfast. “You can have what’s left of that if you want. I’m going to get ready for work.”
Needless to say, my appetite had vanished.
Understandably, Jack was still very subdued when he set off for work.
“Be careful.” He gave me a kiss. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“I won’t. I promise. See you tonight.”
I left for work fifteen minutes later, and I’d no sooner walked out of the door when a familiar, but unwelcome, voice called my name.
“Morning, Jill!”
“Mr Ivers?”
He was standing on next door’s driveway.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“What are you doing here? Are you delivering something?”
“No, I live here. We’re neighbours.”
“You’ve moved in next door?” The full horror of the situation hit home.
“Yes, I bought it with some of the money from my lottery win. Are you feeling alright, Jill? You’re looking a little pale.”
“I’m okay. Someone told me about your lottery win. Are you renting this place? I assume it’s just a stopgap until you find somewhere else?”
“No, I bought it outright. I plan to be here for a long, long time. Probably the rest of my life.”
“That’s—err—great. Just great. What about your job? I heard you’d given up working at the toll bridge.”
“And thank goodness for that. My elbows were in a terrible state. I’ve started my own business now.” He pointed to the van.
“Have Ivers Got A Movie For You?”
“Catchy name, don’t you think?”
“I guess so. What kind of business is it, exactly?”
“Movie rental—door-to-door.”
“I’m no expert but haven’t you missed the boat a little there?”
“I know what you’re thinking. Silly Ivers has landed himself with a load of VHS movies that nobody wants anymore. Fear not. I’m on the cutting edge of the industry. All my movies are on DVD.”
“Right. Don’t you think streaming has taken over the market?”
“Streaming? What’s that?”
“Never mind. I’m sure it’ll be a great success.”
“Your luck is in because I’m offering a special discount for the first one hundred customers.”
“How many have you signed up?”
“None yet. I only took delivery of the van and the DVDs last Friday. Today is day one. What do you say, would you like to be my first customer?”
“Thanks for the generous offer, but Jack and I never watch movies.”
“Really?” He looked horrified. “What do you watch?”
“Jack mainly watches TenPin TV, and I prefer educational documentaries.” I made a show of checking my watch. “Is that the time? I’d better get going. Bye, Mr Ivers.”
“Bye, neighbour.”
I must have done something really awful in a previous life to have deserved this. Just when I thought I’d seen the last of Ivers, he turns up as my new neighbour. Again.
***
“Morning, Jill.”
I still hadn’t got used to seeing Mrs V’s desk on the opposite side of the room.
“Morning, Mrs V. I see the tripwire has gone.”
“They came to do it first thing this morning. A nice young man with a green beard.”
“Green?”
“I think he must have dyed it.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“He made short work of putting in a new socket. I gave him a scarf and a pair of socks. Green to match his beard.”
“Nice.”
“Have you thought anymore about having Brian work his magic on your office?”
“I don’t think I’m going to bother.”
“I know it seems expensive, but it would soon pay for itself with the increased productivity.”
“Even so. I like things the way they are.”
“You know best, dear. How did the dress fitting go last night?”
“Okay. The hem is apparently now perfection itself.”
“How did the little ones look?”
“Lizzie’s dress is gorgeous, but it seems we aren’t going to have a pageboy. Mikey has said he doesn’t want to do it.”
“Is Kathy going to try to change his mind?”
“It would be a waste of time, and besides, I wouldn’t want him to do it unless he wanted to.” I started towards my office door, but then remembered something I’d been meaning to do. “Mrs V, would you contact Sid Song at ‘It’s A Sign’ and ask him if he can make a new sign for me?”
“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”
“I’ll be taking Jack’s name, so I want the new sign to reflect that.”
“I assumed you’d keep the business under the old name.”
“It would get too confusing; I’d rather just have a clean break. Tell Sid that if he can do the new sign for the same price as the old one, you can give him the go-ahead, but if he wants more money, tell him you’ll shop around.”
“Will do.”
“Ideally, I’d like it to be installed while I’m away on honeymoon.”
“I’ll tell him that.”
“Oh, and I should warn you. Sid is a strange kind of a guy. He doesn’t so much speak as sing.”
“That’s okay, dear. I’m used to working with strange people.”
Burn.
“I’m going to need some cash,” Winky said as soon as I walked into my office.
“For what?”
“To hire a tux, and I’ll need a new shirt and tie.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My outfit for the wedding. I heard you tell the old bag lady that your nephew has left you in the lurch.”
Oh bum! Me and my big mouth.
“I don’t think we’re going to bother with a pageboy. Or cat. I think we’ll just stick with the bridesmaids.”
“You promised. You gave me your solemn word that if Mickey—”
“Mikey.”
“Whatever. You said that if he dropped out, I could step in for him.”
“Yeah, but things have changed.”
“How?”
“When I said that, I didn’t think there was any possibility that it would ever happen.”
Winky turned his back on me. “I’ve had my heart set on this.” He snuffled, and for a moment, I thought he was about to cry. “I really thought you meant it this time.”
“Winky.”
“It’s alright. I’m sure I’ll get over it. Eventually.”
“Maybe, err—”
He turned around. “Yes?”
“Well, I suppose—”
“Yes?”
“You’d have to do exactly what I say.”
“Of course. I’m at your command.”
What had I just done?
***
Later that morning, I was still trying to work out how to tell Jack that we would have a pagecat at our wedding, when Mrs V came through to my office.
“Jill, there’s a strange little man out there.”
“Strange how?”
“Just strange.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Just that he may have information that will be useful to you.”
“What’s his name?”
“I’m not sure. I asked a couple of times, but I couldn’t make out what he said.”
“Okay. You’d better show him in.”
The man, who was short and quite skinny, walked with a stoop.
“Good morning, Mr—”
“Manic.”
“Mr Manic?”
“It’s just Manic.”
“Right. Would you care to take a seat?”
“Manic prefers to stand.”
“Okay.” Here’s a golden rule to live your life by: Stay far away from anyone who refers to themselves in the third person. “How can I help you, err—Manic?”
“You can’t.”
“Right, so what’s the purpose of your visit today?”
“Manic can help you.”
“And how exactly can you do that?”
“Manic knows people.”
If I’d had a panic alarm installed, now would have been the time to press it.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“You’re a private investigator. Right?”
“That’s right.”
“Exactly.”
Oh boy.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t have the first idea what you’re talking about.”
“Manic knows a lot of people—bad people. Manic hears things—interesting things. Manic gives stories to the press and gets paid for them.”
“Right.”
“Manic can help you, too.”
“How exactly?”
“When you need information, you come to Manic. He finds the information you need. Then you pay Manic. Everyone is happy.”
“To be perfectly honest, I can’t imagine ever needing your—err—services.”
“Others have told Manic the same thing, but they’re usually wrong.” He dug into his pocket and dropped a grubby business card onto my desk. The only thing printed on it was a phone number. “Call this number and leave a message. Manic will call you back.”
“Right, but like I said—”
He stood up. “Manic will see himself out.”
“Who was that weirdo?” Winky came out from under the sofa.
“I’ve no idea, but I feel like I need a shower.”
“Anyway, about the cash for the tux.”
Before I could respond, my phone rang; it was Jack.
“Jill, I’ve just had a call from one of my old oppos at Washbridge police station. He wasn’t supposed to tell me, but he knew that Bill Mellor was a friend of mine.”
“Tell you what?”
“It seems that Bill didn’t die from natural causes. They say he was poisoned.”
“Accidentally?”
“I don’t know. They want the three of us: me, Chris and Graham to call in so they can interview us. I’ve said I’ll go in this afternoon, so it’s just possible that I’ll be late home tonight.”
“Could it be something he ate at the bowling alley last night? What about you? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. We didn’t really have much to eat—just a burger and a coke.”
“Okay. Keep me posted.”
“Will do. See you tonight.”
Winky cleared his throat to get my attention. He was holding out his paw.
“How much is this tux going to cost me?” I said.
“A hundred should do it.”
“You don’t need to buy one. You can just hire it.”
“That is the cost to hire it. Feline tuxes aren’t ten a penny, you know.”
I checked my purse. “I’ve only got seventy-five pounds.”
“That’ll do.” He snatched the cash from my hand. “You won’t regret it. I’ll be the smartest pagecat you’ve ever seen.”
And the first.
Winky disappeared out of the window just as Mrs V came through to my office.
“What did that creepy little man want?”
“I honestly don’t have any idea. I think he was a lettuce short of a sandwich.”
“Shouldn’t that be a sandwich short of a picnic?”
“Lettuce, sandwich? Same difference.”
“I’ve been thinking about your pageboy situation, Jill, and maybe I can help.”
“How do you mean?”
“Do you remember the pageboy issue I had at my wedding?”
“Andy and Randy?”
“Andy and Raymond, actually, but yes. If you recall, I was worried about having both of them as pageboys in case they started fighting.”
“I never did find out how you resolved that situation. From what I remember, they both behaved perfectly on the day. How did you manage that?”
“I drugged them.”
“What?”
“I’m only joking. I bribed them both. I said I’d give them cash if they got through the ceremony without any problems, and they did. Anyway, I was thinking that maybe you could ‘borrow’ one of my pageboys for your big day. Andy or Raymond, you could have your pick.”
“That’s very thoughtful, Mrs V, but I’ve managed to sort out the pageboy problem. We’re going to have—err—that’s to say—err—we’ve decided not to bother.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive, but thanks for the offer.”