Wedding Spells Read online

  Thyme and I both nodded. It seemed like this was another dead end, that is, if Maeve was telling the truth.

  Chapter 18

  Ruprecht had been protesting for a full five minutes. “I will not wear an earpiece,” he said for the umpteenth time. “You will simply have to trust me to ask the right questions.”

  “That’s just the trouble, we don’t,” Camino said. She was never one for tact.

  “It’s not that we don’t trust you, Grandfather,” Mint said. “It’s just that…” Her voice trailed away.

  It was my turn to try to persuade him. “Ruprecht, we know how much you love your antiques, and we know that you will be sidetracked by showing Damon Stark your new treasures. The earpiece is just there so we can prompt you in case you get into the intricacies of ancient Egyptian treasures from Memphis.”

  “Actually, I don’t have any antiquities from Memphis,” Ruprecht said. “I do however have five faience rosettes from the reign of Ramesses the Second.”

  Camino stabbed her finger into his chest. “See! That’s exactly what we’re afraid of. You’ll be sidetracked so we need to tell you what to say.”

  Ruprecht shook his head. “All right then. It seems I have no option, but let the record show I’m doing this under protest.”

  Camino fitted the earpiece. “Can anyone see it?” she asked. “I bought it for a bargain on eBay.”

  Thyme and I exchanged glances. “You had better test it, I suppose,” I said.

  “You go over there, Ruprecht.” Camino pointed to the other side of Ruprecht’s living room. “I’ll speak into the mouthpiece. Testing!” she yelled.

  Ruprecht screamed and jumped.

  “Sorry,” Camino said. “I guess we should speak more softly. At least we know it works.”

  “I hope my eardrums are not shattered,” Ruprecht muttered. “Is there anything else I need to know? Damon will be here in a minute.” His expression was pained.

  “Simply repeat whatever we say,” Camino said.

  “But surely…”

  Camino cut him off. “No! Just remember the plan. Perhaps Damon killed Bertha Bunyons and framed Alder. You need to pump him for information.”

  “Obviously,” Ruprecht said dryly. “I’ve done this before, you know.”

  I was quite concerned. We had a few suspects and were looking further into matters, but time was running out. I wanted to get Alder out of prison and the sooner, the better.

  “Here he comes now,” Ruprecht said over his shoulder as he left the room.

  “How did he know?” I asked Mint. “I didn’t hear an alarm and there are no cameras.”

  Mint simply shrugged one shoulder. “That’s Grandfather for you.”

  “Testing, testing,” Ruprecht said.

  “We can hear you,” Camino said in little more than a whisper.

  We soon heard Ruprecht greet Damon Stark. I’m sure he was speaking more loudly than usual. “Come in, Damon. I can’t wait to show you my new piece. I’m sure it would be a suitable item for your mother’s birthday.”

  I couldn’t hear what Damon was saying, but Ruprecht said, “Oh, her birthday was five months ago? How silly of me. Well, perhaps you’ll like it for another festive occasion. Come with me.”

  Thyme, Mint, and I tiptoed over to sit with Camino. I thought perhaps we could offer some advice to Ruprecht if he went off track.

  “Now this is an F–21. Oh, you don’t know what that is? Why, it was very popular with the KGB for covert photography, of course. People often refer to it as the KGB camera—that’s how important it was. It’s a miniature mechanical surveillance camera and has a windup mechanism. From 1951 to 1995 it was built by the Mechanical Factory of Krasnogorsk, which of course was known in Russian as the Krasnogorski Mekhanicheskii Zavod. It was popular in the Cold War.”

  Camino leant over to the microphone. “I knew he’d go off on a tangent. Should we remind him yet?”

  Thyme shook her head. “Just give him a little more time. He can’t really come straight out and interrogate Damon. He’s doing okay so far.”

  “You told me that your mother had once met Peter Wright.”

  Camino fiddled with the equipment and then we could hear Damon speak. That was a plus—we didn’t have to rely on Ruprecht to know what Damon said.

  “Yes, it was after he moved to Tasmania,” Damon said. “She had an autographed copy of his book Spycatcher.”

  Ruprecht chuckled. “That book would never have been a bestseller if the British government hadn’t banned the book and taken Peter Wright to court.”

  “Exactly,” Damon’s voice said. “It was a fascinating insight into MI5. Actually, I think my mother would love this camera. I’ll ask her about it. Do you mind holding it for me? Oh, I can leave a deposit on it if you like.”

  “No, no, no,” Ruprecht said. “Of course I’ll hold it for you, with no deposit. Take your time.”

  Camino looked up at us expectantly, and Thyme waved her on. “Say after me, ‘How is your dear mother?’”

  Ruprecht repeated her words.

  “Fine.” Damon’s tone was absent.

  “That’s good.”

  Camino sighed, and then said, “The reason I ask is because of the recent events, with the death of Bertha Bunyons. I thought if your mother heard of Bertha’s death, it would bring back horrible memories for her.”

  Ruprecht drew breath. “The reason I ask is because of events. If your mother heard of Bertha’s death, she would be upset. Sorry I didn’t remember all of it.”

  The latter was obviously said as an aside to Camino, but thankfully Damon did not appear to notice anything amiss.

  Damon said some rude words. “I haven’t told my mother, and I’ve noticed it hasn’t been on the news, thankfully. I’m not going to tell her because even the mention of that woman’s name would upset her dreadfully.”

  There was a long pause, and when Ruprecht remained silent, Camino said, “But surely she would be secretly pleased if she found out about Bertha’s demise?” Camino punctuated her sentence with a sneeze.

  “But surely she should be secretly pleased if she found out about Bertha’s demise?” Ruprecht said. “Ach-choo!”

  Camino slammed her fist on the table. “Don’t copy my sneezing, you old fool!”

  “Don’t copy my sneezing, you old fool!” Ruprecht said.

  There was a pause. “I didn’t sneeze,” Damon said slowly. No doubt he thought Ruprecht had lost his marbles.

  “I know that,” Ruprecht said. “Anyway, what did you say about your mother? Surely she’d be secretly pleased that Bertha has crossed over?”

  After a short interval, Damon spoke. “She wouldn’t be secretly pleased; she would be openly pleased. That woman ruined my mother’s entire life.”

  “Quite so, quite so,” Ruprecht said. “Yet the police have poor Alder in prison and have refused him bail.”

  “He probably did murder her,” Damon said.

  “He did not!” I screeched.

  “He did not!” Ruprecht said. He added, “Why would you say that?”

  “She was living with him for a week, wasn’t she? That would drive anyone to murder. Can’t say that I blame him either.”

  “I’m sure she was highly irritating, but I’m just as sure that Alder didn’t do it,” Camino said. “I don’t suppose you happened to see anything at the wedding, anything at all that would give us a clue as to the identity of the murderer?”

  “That’s too long,” Thyme said to Camino. “Speak in shorter sentences next time.”

  “I’m sure she was annoying,” Ruprecht said, “but Alder didn’t do it. Did you see anything at the wedding that would lead us to the murderer? And speak in shorter sentences next time.”

  “Um, I’m sorry,” Damon said. “No, I didn’t see anything. I was shocked. I thought she’d had a heart attack. Maybe a stroke. She didn’t look well. The police said it was murder. That surprised me. A leopard never changes its spots.”

  “W
hat do you mean?” Ruprecht asked him.

  “Look what she did to my mother! It was a petty grudge! She shut my mother’s restaurant down.” His voice broke. I imagine if Bertha had been there in front of him, he would have strangled her on the spot.

  “I’m afraid the police aren’t being very helpful in their investigation,” Ruprecht said.

  “I hope the murderer gets away with it,” Damon shot back.

  “That’s as may be,” Ruprecht said, “but our main concern is that we don’t want Alder to take the fall for the murder. Alder is a good personal friend of mine.”

  Again, there was silence, and Damon finally said, “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  I grabbed the microphone. “Does he know Alder well?”

  “Does he know Alder well?” Ruprecht said.

  “Does who know Alder?”

  Ruprecht coughed. “I mean, do you know Alder well?”

  “Only to say hello to. I’ve dealt with the wedding planner rather than Alder and Amelia. Alder seems like a nice guy. Why do you ask?”

  “Someone has gone to a great deal of trouble to frame Alder for his aunt’s murder. Did you see anything at the wedding reception, anything at all? Or do you know anyone who could have a grudge against Alder?”

  “I don’t really know him well. He’s a private investigator, isn’t he? Doesn’t he work with the police? Perhaps someone has a grudge. Perhaps he sent someone to jail. Maybe they just got out.”

  “That’s worth following up on,” I said.

  “That’s worth following up on,” Ruprecht repeated. “Now, if you ladies have finished, I have a nice antique piece Damon might like.”

  I wished I could see Damon’s face.

  Chapter 19

  I was home alone, apart from Willow, Hawthorn, and the spirit of my deceased grandmother. On further thought, I suppose I wasn’t really home alone. Still, it would have been better to have human company, and even better if that human was Alder.

  I had just finished appraising the house about what Damon said. The house simply turned up the television louder by way of response. “Are you still watching Wasp’s Nest?” I asked her. “Is there a clue in there somewhere?”

  Just then, a loud knock on the door startled me. I opened it, surprised to see Camino standing there. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the shop?” I asked her.

  She wiggled her finger at me. “Amelia, it’s not opening hours yet. I was just popping over to make sure you’re staying home this morning. If you had been on your honeymoon, you wouldn’t have been at the shop, so you have to trust us to run it for you.”

  “But I do trust you,” I protested. “It’s just that if I’m home alone my mind races ninety to the dozen and my stomach churns.”

  “Yes, I’m here to address that,” Camino said.

  “You are?” It was then I noticed a large canvas bag at her feet. Oh no! I had a good idea what was in it. My already low spirits plummeted.

  “It’s my new invention. Well, a prototype actually.” Camino dragged a bulky onesie from her bag with a flourish.

  “What is it?” I asked in alarm.

  “It’s a onesie, of course.” Camino shot me a puzzled look. “Oh, I understand. You’re asking what sort of onesie?” I nodded. She pushed on. “It’s a diffuser onesie.”

  I tapped my ear. Maybe water had got into it during my morning shower. “Excuse me, what did you say?”

  “It’s a diffuser onesie,” Camino repeated slowly. “You know what diffusers are. You use them in your house.”

  “Yes, you put water and essential oils in and they emit scented steam,” I said. “I can’t see what that has to do with a onesie. It’s not electrical or anything, is it?” I asked, remembering when Camino had put Dawson in an electronic onesie. It certainly wasn’t pleasant.

  “You’ve heard of diffuser bracelets, surely?”

  I had to admit that I hadn’t.

  Camino sighed and pushed past me. “Oh goodness me! I can’t quite get used to this new house. It’s completely different.”

  “What were you saying about those bracelets?” I asked her.

  “Diffuser bracelets,” she said. “They’re made of little lava stones. You drop essential oils onto a few of the stones and they diffuse the scent all day. It’s like carrying around your own diffuser with you.”

  I sighed with relief. “That’s great. So, you have those lava stones sewn in through the onesie.”

  Camino looked aghast. “Of course not! That wouldn’t be interesting, now would it?”

  I bit my lip. I had experienced firsthand Camino’s idea of ‘interesting’ and I found it rather frightening, to say the least. “How exactly does this onesie work as a diffuser?” I asked her.

  “Like I said, it’s a prototype, so I’m still working on it.” Her words did not inspire confidence. “I’ve made a onesie specifically for each type of scent, but I’m having second thoughts about it. Maybe someone doesn’t want to spend a lot of time as a eucalyptus tree. I’ll have to do some market research. Do you tend to stick with the same scent in your diffuser?”

  I shook my head. “If I want a room cleansed, I’ll use lemongrass, eucalyptus, or maybe tea tree oil, and if the cats are running around crazily, I’ll use lavender oil to calm them down, and if I want circumstances broken apart, as is the case now, I use sweet orange oil.”

  Camino planted her palm on her forehead. “Orange oil! Blockbuster oil! How silly of me. But yes, you’re right, I need to design a more generic onesie so people can swap out the scents. But for now, here is a eucalyptus onesie.”

  “Oh, that explains the green colour.” That afforded me a small measure of relief. I was glad the onesie was meant to represent a eucalyptus tree rather than a cane toad. I had already experienced Camino’s cane toad onesie, and didn’t want a repeat.

  “Well off you go. Go and change into this eucalyptus onesie.”

  “How does it work?” I asked her.

  “You just zip it up like any other onesie. Oh, I see what you mean. I’ll show you when you come out.”

  I went to my bedroom, doing a double take as I had done lately as the room was nothing like my old bedroom. The house had given it a wholly masculine flair, no doubt in an attempt to entice Alder to make this his permanent residence.

  The onesie wasn’t as bulky as her others, and for that I was relieved. There was a large box in the left pocket, but I didn’t want to touch it as I figured it contained batteries. It smelt strongly of eucalyptus. I walked back into the living room where Camino was waiting with an expectant look on her face.

  “How do you like it?”

  “It’s more comfortable than some of your onesies.” I paused to choose my words carefully. “It isn’t as bulky, and I’m glad to see you haven’t added branches and leaves.”

  Her face fell. “I was going to add those later. This is just a prototype.”

  “Oh.” I tried to think of something to say, but failed. “Oh,” I said again.

  Camino did not appear offended in the least. “I’ll just switch you on,” she said.

  I backed away, both palms held up. “Do you have to? What if it’s dangerous?”

  Camino laughed. Maybe she thought I was joking. She advanced on me as I backed up against the wall. “Help me, Grandmother,” I said, but the house simply turned up the television.

  Camino pulled out a large key. “What’s that for?” I asked her.

  “Why, it’s the key to the whole device that diffuses the scent of eucalyptus,” she said. “I have to keep it safe because it’s new technology. It could be worth millions. Someone might try to steal it.”

  “Oh.” I really needed to widen my vocabulary when faced with Camino’s inventions.

  Camino turned the key once. A more overpowering scent of eucalyptus at once hit me. I sneezed.

  “Too strong? It has five settings. I’ll fix that for you.”

  Camino fussed around the pocket on my waist, and then stood up. “How is the sc
ent now?”

  “Fine,” I said cautiously, making a mental note to take off the dreadful onesie the second Camino was out of sight. “Have you spoken to Ruprecht this morning?”

  “Yes, I have. Why?”

  “Has he found out anything about Maeve and her boyfriend?”

  Camino shook her head. “Maybe you can google it.”

  “Google it?” I said in disbelief. “The net is hardly going to tell me if Maeve is still seeing her ex-boyfriend.”

  Camino frowned. “Maybe it will. Are you two Facebook friends?”

  I shook my head.

  “Her friends might be visible to the public, so do some stalking. You know her ex-boyfriend’s name, don’t you?” Without waiting for me to answer, she pushed on. “Just google him and see if he’s a friend of hers, and also look to see if she’s logged her location on her posts. We know the prison he’s in, so find out if she’s been in that location over the last few months. You’d be surprised what you can find out by stalking someone on Facebook.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said. “That will keep me busy and take my mind off things.”

  “Yes, it will stop you from moping around the house,” Camino said. “I really should have made you an orange oil diffuser onesie. Wouldn’t that be delightful, a lovely round onesie diffusing orange oil to break apart circumstances. What a shame we can’t get Abre Camino in Australia or I could make a Road Opener onesie.” She scratched her head. “I’m just not sure what shape it should be.” She waved goodbye absently and went on her way, leaving me standing in a eucalyptus scented onesie that omitted a puff of steam every five or so seconds.

  I was going to take off the onesie, but the house turned up the television once more. “Grandmother, this is just too loud,” I said. I turned the television down, but the house turned it straight back up. “Grandmother!” I yelled. “I can’t hear myself think. I need to solve this case.”

  The television continued to blare. I stuck my fingers in my ears and made for my bedroom, intending to take off the onesie, when I passed my laptop. Maybe Camino was right. I was itching to know if Maeve had left a trail to her ex-boyfriend, so I opened the laptop, entered my password, and opened the Facebook tab. Maeve’s name came up with a recognisable profile photo.