Page 63 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

‘Heather, isn’t it?’ He smiled, his mood a real contrast to anything I might have expected. Why wasn’t he upset at being murdered?

Maybe all earthly cares and stresses dissolved after death.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Morris. What happened?’

He shook his head, sadness now on his face. ‘Some bugger hit me with something heavy when I was in the library.’

‘I know that much. They hit you with a candlestick. Did you see who it was? Can you describe them?’ He was fading fast now, and desperation clawed at my throat.

‘They came from behind me. I didn’t hear them. I was busy taking notes from the witch’s spell book.’

He was only an outline now. ‘But did you see who hit you?’

‘It was over so quickly. I didn’t even have time to react. It was— Wait, what’s this? There’s a light here. A bright, warm light.’

‘He is about to depart,’ the countess whispered. ‘Tarry not!’

I couldn’t detect a light, but I understood the urgency. ‘Mr Morris. Quickly! Who did you see?’

He opened his mouth and seemed about to speak, but no words came forth. The other side of the room was visible through the back of his throat. Then he found his voice, faint and barely audible.

‘It was... it was...’ He struggled, his arms and legs wisping away.

I groaned. It’s too late. Why is it in movies when someone is about to say who shot or poisoned or stabbed or hit them, they always say ‘it was...’ and then die? Why did no one ever say the name of the murderer first? It was the most important piece of information.

Ronald would disappear without telling me the name. Like in those damned movies.

Only his head and the top half of his torso remained hovering above the dining room chair. His smile widened. Perhaps the light was a happy one, or it illuminated somewhere he wanted to be.

With a herculean effort, he breathed out his last few ghostly words. ‘It was from behind me. I didn’t see them.’

He vanished.

‘Shit!’ What a let-down. I wanted to help Ronald, but I didn’t know how.

‘Is everything all right, Heather? I heard voices.’

I spun. Inspector Pentecost stood in the doorway.

I glanced at Charlotte, who walked around the table to the windows, and turned back to face the inspector.

She followed my gaze. ‘Who were you speaking to? There’s no one here.’

Charlotte obviously wasn’t revealing her presence to the inspector. ‘Oh, I was on my phone.’

‘You sounded upset.’

‘It’s been a disturbing day, Inspector.’

‘Of course. So... when you say you were talking on your phone, you don’t mean this one you left in the office?’ She held up my phone. ‘I noticed it in the office when I went to look for you.’

I reddened. Heat flushed my face. Shit. How do I get out of this predicament?

I took a deep breath. ‘Sometimes, I talk to myself, Inspector. Especially in times of stress. You know how it is.’

‘No, I don’t.’ She strode forward and put the phone on the dining table.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered.

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