Witches Incorporated (40 page)

“
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.”

Bibbie flung an exasperated look over her shoulder. “Would you like to drive, Reg?”

“Love to,” Reg said promptly. “I’d be very good at it, you mark my words. If you could’ve seen me with my coach-and-four…”

Melissande saw the words
Four what
? flit across Bibbie’s face, ready to be disastrously uttered. “Don’t say it, Bibbie!” she snapped. “Just pay attention to what you’re doing.”

They followed Eudora Telford out of the shabby-gentility of North Ott, around the edge of West Ott then over the Ott Bridge and onto the main Ott road. That led them eventually into the outskirts of South Ott, where a great many people of limited means were anonymously crowded into a definitely insalubrious stretch of township squashed between a looping bend in the Ott River and the huddled conglomeration of thaumic distilleries on the edge of the noisome Ott marshes.

“Hmm,” said Melissande, starting to feel ever so slightly uncomfortable. “This isn’t what you’d call a desirable locale, is it? What was Permelia thinking, sending Eudora all the way out here?”

“Nothing good, I’ll bet you,” said Reg. “And as for Eudora Telford, she’s the kind of silly, clinging woman who’d do anything for a friend. The trouble with her sort is they think they’re being needed but they’re only being used.”

In this part of town the cobbled streets were narrow and poorly lit. From the looks of things the people of this sad, grimy district still relied on gas lighting, and many of the lamps had gone out. The night was moonless dark and empty of people. Eerily quiet.

“Hang back a bit more, Bibbie,” said Melissande. “We really do stick out like a sore thumb.”

Bibbie slowed until the jalopy threatened to stop altogether. Up ahead, Eudora Telford’s cab turned into a side street.

“Quick! Quick!” said Melissande. “Don’t lose her!”

Bibbie ground her teeth. “Melissande Cadwallader, make up your
mind
!”

They crawled a bit faster towards the side street, then had to slam on the brakes as the cab appeared again. It pulled out of the side street and drove away.

“What? What? Did they make a wrong turn?” said Bibbie. “Was Eudora Telford still in the back? I couldn’t see! What—”

“Someone open a window,” said Reg. “I’ll go and look.”

Melissande pulled her passenger window down and Reg took off like a rocket.

“Well,” said Bibbie, after a moment. “This is exciting.”

“I suppose,” said Melissande, sticking her head as far out of the jalopy as she could manage without decapitating herself. “Drat these broken street-lamps, I can’t see Reg at all! And if Eudora Telford’s not in that cab then she’s getting away in another direction altogether. If we lose sight of her then this was all for nothing.” She pulled her head back inside and gave Bibbie her sternest, most prime ministerly look. “Right. New plan. You stay here and wait for Reg. Whatever you do,
don’t
get out of this jalopy. The last thing we need is for it to get nicked.”

Bibbie gave her a look. “It won’t get nicked, Mel, not with the kind of don’t-steal-me hexes
I
—”

“Then don’t get out because I
said
don’t get out!” she snapped. “If anything happens to you it’ll be
me
your parents come after with a shotgun—and Monk’ll be right behind them carrying the spare ammunition!
Please
, Bibbie.
Stay put
.”

Without giving Monk’s appalling sister a chance to draw breath for her next objection, she shoved out of the jalopy, eked the door closed and hurried towards the side street where she hoped she’d be able to see Eudora Telford.

Because if we’ve lost her… and something awful happens to the silly old biddy…

She made her way as quickly and quietly as she could over the uneven cobblestones. What a piece of luck she hadn’t bothered to change out of her hideous Wycliffe uniform—she was practically a shadow herself, slipping through the darkness like a real secret agent.

Reaching the corner of the side street she took a quick look behind her. Miracle of miracles, Bibbie was still inside the jalopy. She lifted her hand in a half wave, half
you bloody well stay there
gesture in the hope that Bibbie could see her clearly, then ducked clandestinely into the side street.

Tall, decrepit tenement houses squashed shoulder to shoulder, marching down both sides of the street as far as she could see. Smoke drifted above them, thick and stinking. A few doorways here and there were illuminated by gas lamps, shedding just enough light to be useful. More light from a street brazier, cheerfully burning. But where was Eudora Telford? The street was silent—deserted. She was nowhere in sight.

Melissande hugged herself, as close to dithering as she’d ever been in her life. What to do? What to
do
? How had Eudora managed to get so far ahead? Or had she been in that cab after all?

Oh, where was Reg? Surely the wretched bird had caught up with it by now? So should she push on to see if Eudora was in fact ahead of her or should she go back to Bibbie, who was probably fine all alone in the jalopy? She was a witch with incants to spare, after all, she was perfectly safe, of course she was, but—

“
Melissande
?” said an astonished whispering voice behind her. “Melissande, what the hell are
you
doing here?”

Swallowing an undignified yelp, she swung around. “
Gerald
?”

Bundled in a long dark coat, an impressive-looking First Grade staff in one hand, Gerald stared at her in dismay. “I don’t believe this. How can you
possibly
be here?”

“I could say the same thing of you,” she retorted. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re following a clue?”

“Not a clue. A person,” said Gerald.

“What a coincidence,” she replied. “So are we.”

His jaw dropped. “We? We? What do you mean
we
?” He looked around wildly. “Is Reg here?”

“Not at the moment, but she’s around. And Bibbie’s back that way—” She jerked a thumb. “Minding Monk’s jalopy.”

Gerald grabbed her arm. “Mind it somewhere else, Melissande. Go back. Now. All three of you. Get out of here, quickly!”

Honestly. Some people never learned, did they? “Save your breath, Gerald,” she said, pulling her arm free. “Witches Inc. is on a case and—”

“Hey ho,” said Reg, joining them in a rustle of feathers. “What are you doing here, Gerald? Don’t tell me Eudora Telford’s an international master criminal!”

“Who? Eudora who?” said Gerald, distracted. “What are you talking about? Who the hell is Eudora Telford?”

Melissande winced, just a little bit, as Reg settled onto her shoulder, claws pricking through her black blouse. “If you have to ask, Gerald,” the bird said, “then probably she isn’t an international master criminal. At least not the one you’re looking for.”

“Well, Reg?” said Melissande. “Was Eudora in the cab?”

Reg shook her head. “No.”

Rats
. “That means she must’ve been dropped off somewhere along this street. Right then, we’d better push on. See where this thoroughfare leads, and if we can still find her.”

“What?” said Gerald. “No! You can’t do that. You have to get
out
of here, you two, and take Bibbie with you. Any second now the person I’m following is going to come out of the laneway over there and—”

“How do you know?” said Reg.

He looked at her. “I know.”

“Yes, but
how
do you know?” Reg persisted.

“I know because I’ve had a few tricks shoved down my kni—up my sleeve over the last six months,” he said, exasperated. “Which I don’t have time to explain right now.
Please
, will you just
trust
me? You have to—oh,
damn
.”

Further down the street, a tall figure wearing a long black coat emerged from a deeply shadowed laneway and turned right.

“Oy,” said Reg, flapping upwards to get a better line of sight. “
That’s
Errol Haythwaite.”

Melissande peered around Gerald. “Are you sure? How can you tell?”

“These eyes don’t lie,” said Reg, still hovering. “So. He
is
up to something nefarious. And he’s about to get done for it.” Sniffing, she dropped back to her human perch. “Couldn’t happen to a nicer pillock.”

Gerald rounded on them. “He’s only going to get done for it if you two skedaddle.”

She sighed, irritated. “Gerald, are you sure turning into a rogue wizard hasn’t done something to your hearing as well as your eye?
We are on a case. We are not skedaddling anywhere.
”

“Melissande—” He sounded like he wanted to shout. “Why are you following this Eudora Telford?”

“Because she’s a wet hen running some kind of errand for Permelia Wycliffe,” said Reg. “Why are you following Errol Haythwaite?”

“Good question,” said Melissande. “If he’s as upper crusty as you and Monk say, what’s he doing in crustless, mouldy South Ott?”

Gerald muttered something impolite under his breath. “He’s meeting with Haf Rottlezinder—which is why I don’t want you two anywhere in the vicinity.”

“Haf Rottlezinder?” Melissande looked at Reg. “You don’t suppose that’s who
Eudora
—no. That makes no sense. Why would
Permelia
need to—unless she’s the one—and we’ve accidentally crossed paths with—Reg, are you
sure
you didn’t hear anything else Permelia told Eudora?”

“
Yes
,” said Reg, and chattered her beak crossly.

“Melissande, what are you talking about?” said Gerald.

She turned to him. “Earlier this morning I overhead bits and pieces of an argument between Permelia and Ambrose. They were fighting over something to do with the company. And not long after that Eudora turned up, and Reg overheard Permelia begging her for a favour. But surely she wouldn’t send Eudora to see—”