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-”
“She might,” said Reg, slowly. “If she wanted to keep a prudent distance between herself and a questionable character like Haf Rottlezinder.”
“But that would mean Permelia is behind the portal sabotage.”
“Who says she isn’t?” said Reg. “Or maybe she and Ambrose are in on it together.”
“But-but Gerald said Permelia and Ambrose were in the clear.”
Gerald pulled a face. “I might’ve been wrong about that. Obviously there’s more going on here than Sir Alec’s team managed to uncover.”
Reg chortled. “ We uncovered it all right, sunshine.”
“Yes, well, there’ll be plenty of time to gloat later,” he muttered. “And we both know you will.”
“But- Permelia?” said Melissande. “She’s so-so law-abiding. Such a stickler for the rules. Why hire us to find a biscuit thief if she’s merrily romping around Ottosland blowing up portals? It doesn’t make any sense. And where does Errol Haythwaite fit in? He and Permelia don’t have anything to do with each other.”
“Apart from the fact she’s his employer, once removed?” said Reg.
“ That’s what I’m trying to find out!” said Gerald. “But you two are making it very difficult!”
She opened her mouth to say something blighting, but was interrupted by a door opening further down the street. She and Gerald stepped back, flattening themselves against the wall behind them, as a well-wrapped figure emerged from the house.
It was Eudora Telford. “Thank you so much,” she said to someone standing in the open doorway. “Yes, I do feel much better now. And I understand perfectly where it is I need to go. I do appreciate you giving me such clear directions.”
A murmuring, as the person she was speaking to said something indistinct.
“Oh, no, no, I mustn’t put you to any more trouble,” said Eudora Telford. “I shall be quite all right. Thank you again.”
The door closed and Eudora Telford stepped back. In the dim gas lamp lighting she looked quite limp with fear.
“Oh, Permelia,” they heard her say. “Oh, this is dreadful. If you weren’t such a dear friend-if you didn’t need me…”
She turned and started walking away, following in Errol Haythwaite’s footsteps.
“Oh lord,” groaned Gerald. “Go after her, Melissande. Stop her. It might be nothing more than a bizarre coincidence that she’s here… but even if that’s so, this situation-this area-they’re far too dangerous for a woman like her. Please. Get her to safety.”
“And what are you going to do, sunshine?” said Reg.
“My job,” said Gerald. “Now go on. Get out of here. Hurry.”
“All right, ducky,” said Reg, with a rattle of tail feathers. “You heard the boy. Let’s go.”
Melissande looked at Gerald. In the flickering brazier-light his face was older and grimmer than she’d ever seen it. Very nearly the face of a stranger. “Um-did you know you’ve-ah-turned silver again?”
