Chapter Nine: Compelled by Signs

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Dudley wiped condensation off the window and looked out into the wet darkness as a shiny silver van pulled up under the street light outside. He groaned, recognising a television station logo on the side. "I suppose they'll be on us like vultures now," he muttered to himself and went back out into the school hall.

DI Price came over to him. "I've been looking for you. Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Guv," said Dudley. "I just needed to think for a minute, you know."

"Of course I do, son, but now isn't the time for thinking. You can do that on your day off."

Dudley blinked and DI Price gave him a sardonic wink. "Find Dawn, and the two of you take Jack's mother and grandmother home. If we don't have any developments overnight ‒ and to be frank, I don't expect to ‒ we'll call a press conference at the station at nine a.m. tomorrow. We'll be calling off the search here in‒" he looked at his watch, "‒an hour or so. It's too dark and wet to be worthwhile now. Hopefully, the weather conditions will improve overnight."

Outside in the school yard, groups of people were standing around in the rain, stamping their feet in excitement and anxiety. But they fell silent and looked away as Dawn and Dudley escorted Jack's mother and grandmother past. Behind them, they heard DI Price calling everyone into the school building.

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In Layhill cottage, Julia sat on the sofa with her laptop on her knee, and Sirius lay on the floor with half an eye on the television screen, the volume turned down low. She put her feet on his chest and he tickled her toes. She wriggled with pleasure and opened up her laptop.

There were several emails in her inbox. She glanced down the list. Nothing that couldn't wait, except for one. There was an email from Megan. Julia looked at the name in her inbox with astonishment and sat up straight.

"Oof! Warn me next time!"

"Sorry! I've got an email from Megan!"

"Oh, that's nice. How is she?"

"You don't understand! There aren't any computers at Hogwarts. The students aren't allowed to have them." Sirius sat straight up with a rapid, sinuous movement.

"How do you do that?" grumbled Julia. "You're forty-nine. It's not right."

"Breeding," said Sirius and bit her ear.

"Huh," she said. "I might enter you for Crufts next year, then."

"I'd have an unfair advantage." Sirius peered at the laptop screen. "What's she say?"

Anxiously, Julia opened the message.

'mum im on proffesser longbottoms computer plz dnt tell proffesser mcgonagull she dus'nt no.'

A long discussion about the misuse of the English language was called for, she thought. Megan's spelling had not improved one iota over the last six months. Julia often suspected these things were rather neglected at that school.

She read on. 'ive got a feeling mum'. Julia's heart sank. 'u must tell jacks mum not 2 wurry he is ok he is in a place with a tower and the bildings ar falling down love from Megan xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'.

"Jack's mum?" she said, astonished. "What the hell? I hardly know Jack's mum! Why should I tell her not to worry? And a place with a tower? This is nonsense!"

Sirius looked tense. "It must be something," he said. "You know better than to dismiss Megan's Feelings."

There was a knock at the door and Albie started barking in the utility room. Surprised, Julia looked up at the clock on the wall. "It's half past seven! Who can be calling at this time?"

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Dudley waited in the front porch of Layhill Cottage. From inside he heard the deep barking of a large dog and gulped nervously. Julia opened the door.

"Constable Dursley! Whatever are you doing here?"

"Can I come in for a minute?"

"Of course," she stood aside and he stepped over the threshold.

"The dog -?"

"Go through into the sitting room." She gestured towards a door. "I'll shut him in the kitchen."

The low-beamed room was cosy and warm with a bright fire crackling in a wood stove. An expensive-looking oriental rug glowed in jewel colours on the quarry-tiled floor.

In a few moments Julia returned, followed by a tall, grey-haired man who leaned against the door frame with his arms folded, looking faintly intimidating.

"Will you sit down?" asked Julia. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you. This isn't a social call."

"I didn't think it was. What can I do for you?"

"Do you know a boy called Jack Hargreaves?"

She looked surprised. "Of course I do. Everyone in the village does. He's the spawn of the devil. Why, what's he done?"

"What he's done is disappeared."

Julia's hand went to her mouth, her eyes widening. "Oh lord, I shouldn't have said that! What do you mean, disappeared?"

"What I mean is, he's disappeared," said Dudley, allowing a trace of sarcasm to creep into his voice. "It seems rather too much of a coincidence that Ilona has also vanished on the same day we have . . . an unusual death. In a tiny village like this?"

Julia blanched and sat down heavily on the couch. The grey-haired man came to stand behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into it.

"Are you accusing Julia of something?" said the man. He was very well-spoken, but his voice had a rough, slightly abrasive edge.

"No," said Dudley. "Not yet. But‒" he looked at Julia. "I think you know more than you're letting on."

She looked annoyed and her mouth narrowed into a stubborn line. "I'm not the only one, am I?" She drew a deep breath. "All right, cards on the table. That thing of Ellen's that you took from Sandra, for 'evidence', was a magic wand. You know it, and I know it. Siri – Simon?"

The other man pulled something out of a long pocket on the leg of his combat pants and laid it on the back of the couch.

Dudley's legs felt weak and he sat down heavily on the nearest chair. "Bloody hell! You're one of Them an' all!" He put his head in his hands. "I can't put this in my blinkin' report. Is that offer of tea still open?"

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By the time he had a mug of tea in his hand, he had pulled himself together. "So what the hell is going on here?"

"Just what I was going to ask you." Julia looked up at the clock. "I think we should go and talk to Isaac. S – Simon will you take Albie out? Come with me, Officer. Shall we go in your car?"

She climbed into the passenger seat of the patrol car and fastened her seatbelt. "The other thing is," she said, as Dudley seated himself in the driver's side and started the engine. "I've had an email from my daughter. She's at, erm, Hogwarts?"

"I know what bloody Hogwarts is," he said. "Why doesn't this surprise me?"

"Well the thing is, she wanted me to tell Jack's mum not to worry. She's a friend of Jack's you see," she added, as if that snippet of information was somehow explanatory.

"Your daughter? How old is she?"

"Twelve. Just. She's only in the first year."

"Twelve!" The car engine stalled as he twisted round to look at Julia. "What's she got to do with this lot then?"

"Nothing! Of course not! But she's really good at finding things that are lost. Will you take me to see Jack's mum? It might make her feel better."

"And it might make her think you're mental. And me too, for taking you."

"Will you? Please?"

He sighed in defeat and started the engine again. "If you insist. But I want to speak to this Mr . . . Prewett, first." He pulled out of Julia's drive.

"Turn left," said Julia. "Isaac's cottage is on the other side of the hill."

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It was barely half a mile by road and the journey only took a couple of minutes. Isaac Prewett's cottage was very similar to the one they had just left and Julia was obviously a regular visitor. She led the way round to the back door and gave a quick knock, then went straight in without waiting. "Isaac!" she called, "it's only me!"

An answering voice called from inside. "Come on in, Julia!"

She led Dudley along a short passage made narrow by shelves crammed with books and papers, which lined the walls from floor to ceiling.

"What brings you here at this time of the evening?" The elderly man who was sitting in an armchair by an open fire reading a book, looked up. "Ah! You've brought company!"

"This is Constable Dursley. He wants to ask you some questions. Did you know Jack Hargreaves has disappeared?"

Isaac looked horrified. "I had no idea! When did that happen? I heard a rumour that one of the care assistants from Laybrook Court had gone missing."

"Ilona, yes," said Julia.

"And now a child is missing, too?"

"It seems that Jack had bunked off school before lunch," said Dudley. "His mother didn't realise he was missing until he failed to return home for his tea a couple of hours ago."

"If you're thinking I know anything about this," said Isaac, "I assure you, I don't."

Dudley looked hard at the old man. "Why did Ellen name you as her next of kin?"

Isaac marked his place with a scrap of paper and closed the book, folding his hands on top of it. "It was purely a business arrangement," he said. "I was her solicitor before I retired, and I agreed to maintain a limited management of her affairs." He sighed. "Poor old Ellen. I suppose I'll have to arrange the funeral now. Before you ask, she had no relatives. She was a widow and her only child died some years ago. I believe there is a nephew living somewhere, but she has left the residue of her estate to the church organ fund. Not that there is a great deal. She had been in Laybrook Court for nearly eleven years. Since soon after her son died."

"It's rather a coincidence that her death seems to have occurred at the same time as these disappearances, don't you think?" asked Dudley.

Isaac was impassive.

"Did you know that Ellen's body was . . . odd, when I first saw it?" he continued. "It was hard. Harder than rigor mortis, even though that would not have been possible in the time."

Isaac closed his eyes as if in pain. "Petrificus totalus!" he whispered under his breath.

"But Julia, here, did something –" Dudley cast a sidelong glance at her. She was worrying the corner of a thumbnail with her teeth. "– and by the time the doctor arrived, the body looked perfectly normal. That's why he signed it off as natural causes. Ellen had very few belongings, apparently. Nothing worth stealing, it seems. Apart from her necklace."

Isaac went grey and sank back, clutching his chest. "Julia, my pills! On the mantelpiece, there," he pointed.

Julia snatched a bottle from amid the clutter where he indicated, and twisted the top off, shaking a tablet into her palm and giving it to him. He put it in his mouth and after a few minutes, some colour returned to his face.

"Angina?" asked Dudley.

Isaac nodded. "Yes, but I'm all right now. Her necklace is gone, you say?"

"What is so significant about that, Isaac?" said Julia. "I remember it, and it didn't look valuable."

"I really don't know," said Isaac, shaking his head. "I know her son gave it to her, and I know she placed great value on it. She told me once he had given it to her for safekeeping, so it must have had some importance. But after he died, I think it was just sentimental. I have no idea why anyone would want to take it. Honestly, Julia, I don't!"

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Eventually, Dudley was as satisfied as he could be that no more information was going to be forthcoming from Isaac. "CID might want to talk to you yet," he bluffed. "Don't go away."

"I never go anywhere," Isaac assured him.

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"Julia," said Dudley as they left Isaac's cottage, "do you still want to see Jack's mother?"

"Please," she said, "it's getting late. We'd better go now."

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"This bloody village seems to be full of your lot," Dudley mused as they drove into the village.

"Not my lot," Julia corrected him. "I'm not a witch. I admit it would be nice to be able to summon the TV remote sometimes. Or peel the potatoes without getting up. But really, Constable Dursley, it's mostly not all that exciting unless you want to fly. And that's blooming cold."

Dudley was curious. "Don't you find it ‒ threatening? Knowing they can do whatever they want to you? Horrible things!"

Julia laughed merrily. "Rubbish!" she said. "They can only do things to you if you let them. Unless they catch you by surprise, but even then it doesn't work very well. This place is a bit of a hotbed of magic, though, it's true. I think it goes back a long way. Old families, you know."

Dudley did not, but he had been given much food for thought, and he was disinclined to expand his knowledge any further at that moment.

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Every window at Jack's house was lit. It was something Dudley had noticed before – the impulse to banish shadows at times when the natural order of things was threatened. He rang the bell, and after a few seconds Dawn came to the door.

"Dudley! Is there some news?" She looked curiously at Julia.

"No, I haven't heard anything. Sarge, Julia here wants to speak to Jack's mother. I don't think it will take long."

"Let me ask," said Dawn. "Come out of the rain." She left them standing in the small hallway for a minute, then returned. "Make it quick," she said, "Karen's obviously very distressed."

They went through into the kitchen where Karen was sitting at a small table, a heap of damp tissues in front of her. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips swollen and her face ashen but blotched with puce. Her hair hung in limp, pale strands about her face.

At the sink, her mother was washing a stack of crockery she had emptied out of a cupboard. She looked up when they came in. "I do this," she said apologetically. "Cleaning. When I'm stressed, you know." She resumed her scrubbing.

Dudley and Dawn stood by the door, watching, as Julia sat down at the table and took the weeping woman's hands in hers.

"Karen, we don't know each other very well, but I'm Megan's mum. You know, Jack's friend?"

"I know who you are," mumbled Karen.

"Well," said Julia, "I know this sounds completely mad, but Megan, she - oh she knows things. I don't expect you to believe me."

"You mean she's, like, a medium? Like in that film, 'Sixth Sense'?"

"No, Karen," said Julia, firmly. "Not like that at all. She doesn't see dead people. She's just very good at finding things. And I had a message from her earlier. It didn't say very much, just that Jack is all right, and you should try not to worry."

Karen looked at Julia in desperation and whispered, "Do you really think Jack is okay?"

"I do," said Julia. "Megan's Feelings are never wrong."

Karen's mother came over, drying her hands. "I'm sure you mean well," she said. "I hope so, anyway. But you're not helping. Whatever mumbo-jumbo you're telling Karen, don't. It's not fair."

"I'm sorry," said Julia, "I don't blame you for not believing me. Megan asked me to come, and I have done. And her Feelings are never wrong," she repeated.

"Come on, Julia," said Dudley, nudging her. "You've said your piece. Time to go."

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Dudley dropped a pale and subdued Julia back at her cottage before going home himself. Wearily, he pulled off his jacket and trousers and dropped, still half-dressed, into bed. He fell into an exhausted and uneasy slumber for a few hours, but when he woke at three in the morning, he was unable to get back to sleep. His mind was racing. None of this business added up, and he needed to speak to someone who might make sense of it.

He got up, went downstairs and put the kettle on. As it hissed into life, he rummaged through the pile of junk mail, credit card bills and wedding invitations that were stuffed into a kitchen drawer. Near the bottom, he found what he wanted. Turning an old Christmas card over, he read what was written on the back. Then he made some tea, had a quick shower, put on a clean uniform and went out into the dark, damp morning.

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