“You think that man you keep seeing hanging around, did it?” asked Talbot once they were outside the bakery.

“Well, he certainly looks shifty, and he was at the scene of the crime. He’s the only suspect I’ve got, what about you?”

“Apart from those in the queue? He’s the only one, I guess.”

“I wonder if she joined the queue to hide from that man for some reason and then…”

“He gives her a cake and she eats it? No. That doesn’t make sense. If she was scared enough to hide from him, she wouldn’t take anything off him. Maybe she already had the cakes on her before she queued up in your shop?”

“Where would she get them from? She didn’t get them from Telfjord’s bakery - they were evidently a counterfeit batch. And why hide in the queue if she thought one bite of those cakes would make her invisible?”

“You know, I don’t think we’re cut out for this mystery solving stuff. We’re just chasing our own tails and getting nowhere. Let’s face it, we’ve exhausted every line we thought we had. I think we should concentrate on finding your fairies. They could be in grave danger.”

“Do you think I could be in danger? They tried to frame me for a murder and threw a stone with a threatening note through the window for starters.”

“Yes, but we don’t know if they were the same person. We tried to solve the murder ourselves and we’ve only found out more stuff that doesn’t help us - it’s made things even more complicated. Let’s keep it simple and find your fairies, or you won’t have a business,” said Talbot.

“You want to give up on following the trail when we’re getting close to catching the murderer?”

“We’re not close to catching the murderer though, are we?”

“Well, if that’s how you feel - that we’re on a wild goose chase, I’ll go home - if I’ve still got a home to go back to. They might’ve burned the place down by now. Everyone thinks I’m the murderer. But you only want to find the fairies without even trying to clear my name?”

“I didn’t say that, but if we find the fairies, we might find out who’s behind all of this.”

“It’s fine, I can do this alone, I don’t need your help.”

“Val! Wait!”

Talbot knew her well enough to know there was no use in running after her. That determined stride wasn’t to be interrupted. He’d let her calm down for a couple of hours then try to reason with her again. In the meantime, he would try to find her fairies because he believed they were the key to all this. He watched Valencia disappear round the corner, her red hair glinting in the sun as though sparks were coming off it and he wished she wasn’t so fiery natured.

A newsboy interrupted his thoughts, thundering down the cobbled street.

“Read all about it! Shocking murder! Earl’s daughter poisoned! Killed by a cake! Read all about it!”

“Hey! I’ll have one!” said Talbot, snatching a sheet off him. The ink was still damp. He tossed a coin into the boy’s hat as he carried on down the street shouting without missing a stride.

“Killed by a cake! Earl’s daughter found dead in the gutter’ screamed the headline.

He unfolded the paper and read it quickly, his lips moving as he read -

the Earl of Sailonsbury’s daughter – Carmella Sailonsbury, was discovered dead in the gutter on Black Cat Alley with a half-eaten cake in her hand. Controllers believe the cake was poisoned.

Witnesses say they saw the victim in Spellbinding Treats Bakery buying cakes moments before she died although controllers say it’s too early to point the finger at the owner of the bakery, Miss Valencia Veemer, who recently inherited the bakery off her grandmother, the well-known baker, Betsy Veemer.

A man was seen acting suspiciously at the scene and controllers say he’s a person of interest. He’s described as being tall, of unkempt appearance, straggly dark hair and he wore clothes made out of patches. Controllers advise not to approach this man if you see him.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

The Earl of Sailsonbury said he doesn’t know why anyone would want to murder his daughter who was well-known for her charity work in Spellca. He also doesn’t know why she’d be in a bakery other than the usual boutique bakeries she usually frequented.

All enquiries are ongoing. Updates to follow.’

Talbot was pleased their suspect was also the controllers’, but he wished they hadn’t put Valencia’s details in there - it could put her in even more danger. He decided to ask around about the fairies for a bit then he’d go back over to the bakery. He’d make Valencia a honey coffee and hope she’d calmed down enough to listen to reason.

Valencia was fuming. Talbot always thought he knew best, and it irritated the hell out of her. She was so full of rage she almost missed Mrs Hubbard, the witch, carrying a brown wicker basket filled with fruit. She was talking to the strange man Valencia kept seeing, in hushed tones. She watched him hand over a wad of money which she deposited in her long black, flowing cape then she turned abruptly on her heel and pushed her way through a group of people walking in the opposite direction up the narrow-cobbled streets.

Mrs Hubbard and the man were working together! Mrs Hubbard was in the queue with the girl. It was all starting to make sense now.

Should she follow Mrs Hubbard - or the man?

The man ducked down a side street that wasn’t used much. She set off after him. If she let him get away this time, they may never find him again. She knew where Mrs Hubbard lived so it wasn’t as urgent tracking her down although she’d like to know where she was going with all that money and what she had to do to get it - although she could guess.

She sped up so she didn’t lose sight of him. She was careful not to make a noise on the dirt track, running on her toes. The line of ramshackle houses that lined the narrow alley were owned by some of the poorest in Spellica and looked on the verge of collapse if anyone in them dared to sneeze. Hacking coughs and babies crying filtered out from grime smeared windows. Valencia wondered what the man would be doing in this part of town. He was unkempt, but he wasn’t a beggar. He didn’t fit in here, so why had he headed down this particular alley?

The lighting was bad in the alley because of the claustrophobic layout of the houses which were so close together they almost touched at the top.

He’d gone. Again.

Valencia spun round trying to work out where he could have got to. It was a dead end. He must’ve gone inside one of the houses or…

A sudden dull thud to her head made everything around her swim sickeningly before going black.

Valencia woke tied up, blinking painfully in a dark room with no windows that smelled of damp and decay.

I was right! That man is the murderer, and now I’m next. Why didn’t I stay with Talbot? Now I’m no good to anyone, trapped here. How can I tell anyone who the murderer is if…

“Fancy seeing you here, Mistress Veemer,” said a quiet, tinny voice at her feet.

“Emberline? Is that you? Are you all here?” she asked, overjoyed to hear her familiar voice.

She’d managed to discover who the murderer was, and she’d found her missing fairies - just by going off the beaten track. The bump to the head and being trapped in a darkened room almost felt worth it.

“Mistress, they stole us.”

“I know Emberline, are you all okay?”

“Yes, mistress. Old Mrs Telpoh has a broken leg because of the jostling. We were all thrown together into a… a basket. Smelled of apples, mistress. But we survived the tangle at least, despite their best efforts.”

“Mrs Hubbard! I knew it! She was in the queue with the girl who died, and she was talking to the man who is the murderer. It looks like he gave her a bundle of money for her part in the murder.”

“We don’t know anything about a murder, we were bundled out of the bakery by Mrs Hubbard without warning.”

“Did you hear them talking about anything?”

“We’ve only seen Mrs Hubbard, we haven’t seen a man.”

“Right. First things first - untie me and I’ll get us out of here.”

A high-pitched whistle ricocheted off the crumbling walls and suddenly there were a dozen fairies deftly untying Valencia’s knots around her wrists and ankles. In no time, she was free, rubbing each wrist in turn and stamping her feet to get the blood circulating again.

“Thanks guys. That’s much better. There’s no windows, but there’s a door, so let’s start there,” she said, tracing her fingertips around the edges to test for weaknesses in the frame.

“Why do you think they stole you?” she asked, as she tried the handle.

“She said she wanted to ‘expand her new business’. The first customer had been a success and she said there’s a market for more like that,” said Emberline.

“Her first customer?”

Emberline shrugged.

“She must mean that man. He must be happy because he paid her a lot. I think I can pull the door off its hinges. The wood round the frame is soft, it’s been rotted by damp over many years, which is lucky for us. I guess they thought it would keep fairies in, but it won’t keep me in.”

She tugged at the door hoping her new suede boots wouldn’t get damaged in the process. It took several shoulder bruising tugs to finally get the badly rusted hinges to surrender and slide out of position. The fairies cheered, jumping up and down as they saw daylight and breathed fresh air, not the sickly, stale air they’d been breathing since they had been kidnapped.

“Right! Let’s go and find a controller and let them know what’s been going on!” said Valencia, covered in dust and cobwebs, but feeling strangely empowered.

“Where do you think you’re off to?” came the menacing growl of the voice on the other side of the door…