He shook his head. ‘Nope. She didn’t delete it. Anton did.’

  ‘How do you know?’ I asked. ‘And can we prove it?’

  ‘Well, we certainly have proof of him deleting the stuff from her laptop. Take a look.’ He flipped the computer back to face him, and after typing in a few commands, he turned it back towards me.

  I found myself looking at some video of a man’s face. The face was a little round, but kind-looking. It must have been taken by a webcam, because it showed him at the laptop, typing and clicking away. I could see by the background that he was in the Beast’s Hollow, at Athena’s cottage.

  After a few seconds of that, he rose and moved to the fridge in the little kitchen, and pulled out Emily’s box of chocolates. He moved back to Athena’s desk, then donned a mask and a pair of gloves, before taking out a syringe and injecting something into the chocolate.

  He packed everything away, checked something on the computer, then closed the laptop screen.

  While I blinked in shock, Paul said, ‘That was Anton Gale, Wanda. He must have knocked on the webcam and accidentally filmed himself in the act.’

  ≈

  A little while later, I headed to Wayfarers’ Rest with Gretel, Finn and Paul. Ronnie, along with Shane and his new assistant, would be along in a little while.

  I was itching to speak with Anton, but until Shane and the others were finished, we would have to wait. It certainly looked like Anton had poisoned his wife’s chocolate, but we needed to be certain that it was the cause of her death.

  While the others dug into my dad’s enchiladas, I played about with my food and sipped at my juice, feeling impatient. About ten minutes in, my mother leaned closer to me and said, ‘Would you like a piece of toast instead?’

  I snapped my gaze to hers. ‘No, I’m fine. Just eating slowly. You know I love Dad’s cooking.’

  ‘Yes, I know you do,’ she whispered. ‘I also know that when your dad was gone from us for all of those years, and I thought he was dead … it was months before I could keep a large meal down. Oh, I was eating bits and bobs to keep me going – a banana here, a slice of toast there. Stress and sadness, it can make you feel a bit queasy, can’t it?’

  I fought back the tears. ‘Yeah. But maybe I’ll eat something later.’

  Thankfully, the back door opened at that moment, and Shane and the others arrived.

  I rushed to the oven to grab some food for them all, and Finn followed to help.

  While we plated up, I kept my eye on what was happening at the table. Shane’s new assistant had arrived along with Shane and Ronnie. He was a guy called Sam who, for some reason, insisted on being called Igor. Despite his eccentricities, Shane assured me that he was qualified for the job.

  ‘Didn’t he have more hair when he interviewed for the job?’ I whispered. Since I’d last seen him, the guy had either shaved his head or grown mysteriously bald.

  ‘Didn’t you used to be quite a few pounds heavier?’ Finn countered. ‘Want to discuss that?’

  ‘Nope,’ I squeaked. It seemed that just about everyone had noticed my lack of appetite. Wonderful.

  ‘I didn’t think so.’ He frowned. ‘Hey, Gretel’s just knocked over her water glass.’

  ‘Oh.’ He was right. My dad was helping her to mop it up as I watched. ‘Didn’t she knock over her chair and trip over her own feet on the way in here?’ I said. ‘It’s really not like her to have three clumsies in the space of half an hour. I mean, unless she’s in her family’s company.’

  ‘Yeah. She broke her laptop screen last night too, when she came into work for a while after her brother’s birthday party. Managed to scald herself with her coffee and stab herself with her pencil at the same time. Wasn’t she getting better the longer she worked with us?’

  I thought about what Hans had said to me at his birthday party. Being around her family definitely didn’t seem to be doing Gretel any good. ‘We should keep an eye on her,’ I whispered. ‘And keep letting her know how much of a genius we know she is, the way you did today.’

  He puffed his chest out. ‘Yeah, I’m a good boss, amn’t I?’

  I shoulder-bumped him. ‘Not the worst I’ve ever had. Hey, you said you were going to go through your emails, didn’t you? Did you find Emily’s?’

  He sniggered. ‘Yeah, yeah I did. And it was true – she did send me a long and detailed report of her suspicions. It wound up in my spam folder though – because that’s the kind of thing that happens when your email handle is Sweet Cheeks Muffin Lover. Anyway, let’s get over there and see what Shane’s autopsy has revealed. Hopefully when we’re done, we’ll be arresting Anton for murder.’

  ≈

  Sam, the assistant, had already laid out some photographs on the table by the time we dished up his food. He happily dug into his meal while he explained what we were looking at.

  ‘So what you’re seeing here are Athena’s internal organs,’ he said between bites. ‘And–’ He broke off, noticing that Shane was shaking his head.

  ‘Not while we’re eating, Sam,’ he admonished.

  ‘It’s Igor.’ Sam waved his fork around the table. ‘Anyway, the others are finished. And you and I are hardly queasy, are we?’

  With a roll of his eyes, Shane said, ‘Fine, Igor. If no one else minds.’

  Like me, the others were far too curious to let a little queasiness get in the way. So, between them, Ronnie, Shane and Sam explained what they’d discovered.

  ‘Athena had traces of something unusual in her body,’ Ronnie said. ‘Whatever it was, she had been taking it regularly.’ She pointed to some scarring on one of the images. ‘And it seems to have resulted in this. The remission of her tumours, leaving only scars behind.’

  I gasped. ‘There was a missing bottle of her sample cure. Minerva was awfully coy about it. Athena must have gone ahead and taken it even before the initial tests were finished. So it worked? She found a cure for Toadstool Tumours? That’s amazing.’

  Shane winced. ‘Not quite.’ He pulled out another image, showing tiny yellow fungus-like growths. ‘They were coming back, more numerous than ever. Her cure shoved the illness into remission all right, but then it caused it to come back with a bang.’

  ‘Oh.’ I was confused now (not at all like me, was it?). ‘So … what does this mean?’

  Sam produced another photograph. This one showed more fungus-like growths. They were yellow, and yet the shade was slightly different to the other growths. ‘If you compare these to real Toadstool Tumours,’ said Sam, ‘you can easily spot the difference. These grow thousands of times as fast, they’re thinner, and … well, there are enough differences for us to know that these are not the real deal.’

  Ronnie nodded. ‘And not only that, but under the microscope, we see traces of Mimic in each one.’

  Finn swirled his cola in the glass. ‘So what you’re saying is Athena would have died, and her cure would have unfortunately made it happen a little quicker. But before that could happen, she was murdered.’

  Shane, Sam and Ronnie nodded as one.

  ‘It was murder,’ said Shane. ‘Beyond a doubt.’

  15. The Guilty Party

  Gretel told us she wasn’t feeling well after lunch, so it was Finn and I who went to the Maze to speak to Anton.

  The mental healing hospital was in Healer’s Hollow, just like many of supernatural Dublin’s healers, apothecaries and clinics. Although the façade of the building was a bland, concrete-fronted affair, I knew that out back there were large gardens and tranquil ponds.

  ‘Why is it called the Maze?’ I wondered, hands in my pockets as I stared up at it.

  Finn appeared troubled. ‘I asked Florence that very question on the phone this morning. She told me that the name is a reference to one of the Maze’s earlier therapies. A set of maze-like challenges that eventually cleared the patients’ minds. Or so was the theory.’

  He blew warm air into his hands and said, ‘You know how these things go – years later they discovered that the method was actually incredibly traumatic, causing a whole bunch of latent, pent-up illnesses which wound up causing the patients to commit mass murders and so on. Our healing establishments promised to learn lessons from the disaster they’d created, so that they’d never repeat their mistakes. The usual shtick.’

  I shivered. ‘Yeah. People always seem to promise that, don’t they? Anyway, chat to him or outright arrest?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  I stared at the façade again while I thought about it. ‘There are some things I’m still not happy about. I’d like the chance to get a read on him if that’s okay with you. So I say chat first, arrest later.’

  ≈

  Anton sat behind a large white desk. Much of his office furniture was white, and spotlessly clean. He brushed at an invisible speck on his jacket.

  ‘I asked you a question,’ said Finn.

  ‘Well, yes, but … just give me a minute.’ He rubbed and rubbed at the spot. ‘Does that look dirty to you? I think it does. I think it looks dirty.’ He stood up, throwing his jacket into a basket and grabbing a white coat from a rack, examining it and smelling it before he finally put it on.

  ‘Ah.’ He let out a sigh of contentment. ‘That’s better. Now, as to your question – why did I rail so hard against the idea of an autopsy? Well, isn’t it obvious? I knew that my darling wife died of Toadstool Tumours. It seemed grotesque to desecrate her body when the cause was so certain.’

  ‘Hm.’ Finn still hadn’t revealed that Athena was killed by Mimic, nor that we had film of Anton doing the poisoning, and I was following his lead. ‘Your darling wife, you say?’ Finn continued. ‘She worked here with you, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, in amongst her other work and her research. She was one of the most popular healers of the mind.’ Anton’s face twitched in a strange way – a mixture of fondness, grief, and something I couldn’t quite place. Was it fear, confusion, or both?

  ‘I heard that,’ I said. ‘Did that bother you? That Athena was so popular?’

  ‘No. Why should it? I was better at the managerial side of things, so it was a relief to have Athena here to oversee our healing therapies.’

  His reply had seemed incredibly sincere, but there was still an indecipherable undercurrent. Then, from seemingly out of nowhere, Anton emitted a small shriek. His eyes wide, he said, ‘Forgive me, forgive me for that outburst. I’m finding it rather difficult to contain my emotions. It’s been a very stressful time.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Finn. ‘You haven’t taken off a single day since Athena’s death, have you? Wow, if my girlfriend died, I don’t think I’d be able to function.’

  ‘Well, some of us need to bury our head in our work to help us through the dark times.’

  I could relate to that. ‘I heard that you and Athena argued over the release of one of your patients,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’ He scratched his neck. ‘Nothing of that nature comes to mind. You’ll have to refresh my memory.’

  ‘All righty then.’ I sat forward, propping my elbows on his desk with my chin in my palms, and looking him in the eye. ‘I’m talking about Emily. Emily Caulfield. She accused you of untoward behaviour. You lied about it, denying it to Athena, even though there was footage recording the event in action.’

  He flinched. ‘I … I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s absolutely untrue, and you’ll find no evidence of any such transgression.’

  ‘Really?’ I tapped my cheeks with my fingers. ‘Not even on Athena’s laptop?’

  ‘Well no, of course not, because I–’ He broke off, rubbing again at an invisible speck. ‘Why is this one dirty, too? Why are they all dirty?’

  ‘Oh, I dunno.’ Finn crossed his arms. ‘Maybe you’ve got that old Lady Macbeth disease. It can happen, you know, when you’ve been involved in malicious machinations. Like murdering your wife.’

  Anton stood up, all of the colour draining from his cheeks. ‘I did not murder my Athena, you – you monster! I loved her. I loved her and I …’ He blinked, his body slackening for a moment before he swayed to the ground.

  As I rushed to the other side of the desk, phoning Shane while I checked on Anton, there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Oh Anton, darling,’ said a voice I recognised. ‘It’s me, Carmel – I’ve come to celebrate.’

  ≈

  Anton had already come around in the few seconds it took for Shane to arrive and, while Shane checked on him, Finn rounded on his mother. She was all dressed up in a slinky off-the-shoulder number, with her shoes bearing even higher heels than usual. She carried a bottle of champagne and two glasses in her hands.

  ‘What’s all this, then?’ Finn wagged a finger at the champagne. ‘You were about to have a party with Anton, were you? A guilty party?’

  Finn’s mother glared at him. ‘Don’t you dare quip at me! Anton and I are guilty of nothing except being in love.’

  ‘Mm hm. Just like you’re in love with the dean and, well, probably a hundred other men as long as they can help you in your quest to ruin Wanda’s life. Hey, you didn’t happen to get all of those messages I left for you, did you?’

  Carmel shrugged at her son. ‘No. I automatically delete all of your messages without checking them. Why?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Mother.’ Finn looked absolutely exhausted. ‘Maybe because the poisons that you and Anton used to kill Athena and lay the blame on poor Emily might be causing you some problems.’ He nodded his head towards Anton, who looked dazed. ‘Problems like fits of fainting in the face of murder accusations. I guess we can get you both checked out in the prison infirmary, though, so that’s one less thing to worry about.’

  ‘Prison infirmary?’ Carmel blanched. ‘What do you mean? Why are you talking about murder? I …’ Just as Anton had done before her, she slackened, then swayed, then fell to the ground.

  16. Case Closed?

  Later that afternoon, while my coven and colleagues got together in Three Witches Brew, I took myself once more to the enclave of Middlemage. For a few minutes I lingered in the village, taking a seat on a bench and eyeing the Tower. It wasn’t that I hoped Will would emerge again (well, maybe a little bit); I just wanted to take a proper look at the building.

  I’d always known that our years’ names represented something, even if we didn’t understand it at the time. It didn’t necessarily mean something to all of us, but its meaning was always important nonetheless, if a little ambiguous. Right now, we were in the Year of the Boomerang (or 2021 to my former human-world-dwelling self). Next year, we would be entering the Year of Revelations.

  How did the Calendar Girls arrive at these names? Were they seers, scryers, card-reading queens? Or were they deciders, shaping these names with their own ideals for the future?

  ‘Deep thoughts?’ Will’s voice sounded behind me.

  I looked at him as he took a seat beside me, books in his arms.

  ‘I suppose you can’t tell me what you’ve found in them there tomes?’ I asked.

  ‘Not the answers to how to get Max back, I’m afraid.’ His voice was regretful. ‘Not yet, anyway. I heard about the murder case. I would say well done on solving it, but I guess since you look so pensive right now, it’s not quite case closed.’

  I smiled sadly. ‘I often used to wonder if you could read my mind, you know. No, I don’t think this case is closed. We seem to have cleared Emily’s name, though, and for now that’ll have to do.’ I waved my phone in the air. ‘I got an email about half an hour ago telling me that my Potions’ exam is taking place tomorrow at four. Finn wants me to concentrate on passing that. The rest of them’ll work out the kinks in the case.’

  ‘Kinks like: was Carmel controlling Anton all along or was he aware of what he was doing? Or kinks like: did she really go to such massive lengths to mess your life up, or is there something else at play?’

  ‘Ah.’ I smiled again. ‘You’re well informed. Melissa, I’m guessing.’

  ‘She keeps me up to date, I won’t deny it. Shane, too. Oh, and the Queen, of course.’

  ‘Why doesn’t it surprise me that she knows all about this?’

  Will chuckled. ‘Because she knows all about everything.’ He nodded his head over to the village inn, The Lady’s Well. ‘I’ve been in there a few times now. No matter what drink I order, it always makes me feel, I dunno … uplifted? Bolstered? It makes me feel something, anyway. And considering you’re just stopping by here on your way to Athena’s cottage, maybe you could use a pick-me-up before you go?’

  I gazed right into his sea-green eyes. ‘See? Mind-reader. One of these days, I’m going to find out you’re half vampire, aren’t I?’

  ‘Nah.’ He bundled all his books under one arm as he stood up, freeing his other hand in order to reach it out to me. ‘I just pay attention. Come on. Drinks are on me.’

  ≈

  The inn was one of the nicest I’d ever been in. It had the same lovely feeling as the street with no name, but with a little extra something. Just as Will had promised, I felt bolstered by the drink I had with him. Maybe, even, a little bit renewed.

  He didn’t ask to join me on my walk to the Beast’s Hollow and Athena’s cottage, although he knew all about what I would be doing there. It was the same thing I always did when a case was closed. He’d been with me before, when I’d buried familiars alongside their witch. Finn was with me sometimes, and sometimes it was other friends or family. It was the natural way of things, in my job – when a witch’s murder was finally solved, the familiar would be at peace, and ready to die.

  But I think Will knew, like I did, that there was a chance Minerva wasn’t dead yet.

  Slowly, I pushed open the door and walked inside, finding the owl hunched over her little desk, her shoulders shaking.

  I softly touched her feathers. ‘Are you all right?’

  Without moving the rest of her body, she turned her head right around to face me. ‘Don’t look at the tests, Wanda.’