Page 57 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

Well, that helped... not.

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I MADE BRIE, APPLE and ham sandwiches for lunch. Aunt Ruth and I ate them in the living room. Afterwards, I phoned a company I’d looked up to build a wheelchair ramp up to the house and arranged for them to do it the next morning. Once I knew Aunt Ruth didn’t need me for anything, I drove to Richmond upon Thames.

Elvis—I’d call him Elvis because he hadn’t said his real name—must have left Chirtlewood House on the morning of Ronald’s murder before we’d closed the entrance. He’d only been there a few minutes in all. Why so short a visit? I intended to find him and ask.

He’d told me he was staying at a boutique hotel in Richmond. Of course, he may have been lying, but it was the only lead I had. The stress and upset of the morning were still all too real, and I couldn’t even remember if I’d told the constable or the inspector about Elvis.

After I parked the car, I walked along the Thames into the heart of Richmond. It was a beautiful village with eclectic shops, a variety of restaurants and cafés and lovely views of the river. Somewhere, there would be a boutique hotel. To me, ‘boutique’ meant fancy and expensive, the sort of place I could never afford and wouldn’t belong in even if I could afford it.

Google Maps listed a few hotels. I soon discovered they were all classified as boutique. Richmond upon Thames was an affluent place, and it accommodated affluent visitors.

At the first hotel, I struck gold when I asked the receptionist, ‘Do you have anyone staying here who was dressed this morning like Elvis Presley, the rock star?’

The receptionist grinned. ‘Sure, we do. We’ve got twenty of them. The Elvis lookalike convention is on this afternoon.’

I groaned inwardly. I might have to wait around to find the right one.

‘It starts in half an hour if you want to watch. Upstairs.’

‘Thank you.’ I took the stairs instead of the elevator. Every little bit of exercise helps, I told myself. Every long journey starts with a single step, as the saying goes. Or a thousand steps. It seemed like a thousand, anyway.

Several Elvises (or should that be Elvii?) mingled outside a large double meeting room on the second floor. I stopped to catch my breath at the top of the stairs before venturing into the throng of rock and roll impersonators.

‘You’re the woman from Chirtlewood House, aren’t you?’

I spun. My Elvis had found me himself.

‘I recognised you,’ he said. ‘Did you come looking for me?’ He raised one eyebrow and smirked. ‘Or are you interested in the convention?’

‘I didn’t know there was a convention,’ I said, unsure of how to introduce the subject. I couldn’t simply come out and ask him if he’d killed Ronald and stolen the witch’s spell book. He might push me down the stairs. Besides, the whole idea sounded far-fetched. But someone had murdered Ronald. Maybe Elvis had seen something.

‘Why are you here, then?’ Puzzlement creased Elvis’s face.

‘There was an... incident at Chirtlewood a few minutes after we spoke there. On the upper floor in the library. We gathered all the visitors together afterwards, and you weren’t there. I wondered why. The house had only just opened. You couldn’t have seen much of it before you left.’

‘Oh, that. Unfortunately, I got a phone call, and I had to return here urgently. My friend, who’s also an Elvis lookalike, needed help with his costume. I didn’t have time to go back to the manor.’

That sounded credible. As an history teacher, I’d developed a good sense of when pupils were lying from years of listening to excuses why they hadn’t completed their homework. Elvis appeared to be telling me the truth.

‘I understand. Thanks, uh, Elvis. I don’t suppose you saw anything or anyone suspicious? Someone in a hurry? Someone trying to conceal a bulky book?’

‘No, sorry, I can’t help you. What was the incident?’

I hesitated. Should I tell him? It would be in the afternoon newspaper, anyway, so I went ahead. ‘Someone murdered a researcher in the library and stole some materials.’

Elvis’s shock was genuine. ‘That’s terrible.’

‘Look, can I give you my phone number? If you think of anything, you can call me. I’m kind of investigating this myself privately.’

‘No problem.’ He entered it into his phone.

I went downstairs and out into Richmond, where I spent a few minutes sitting on the riverbank, watching bird life on the river.

What should I do next.? And is Raven out there somewhere?

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