Witch Is When I Said Goodbye (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 10) by Adele Abbott Page A

Betty.”
    “Miss Longbottom, if you don’t mind.”
    “Sorry?”
    “I’m here in my official capacity as a tax inspector, so I’d be grateful if you would address me as Miss Longbottom.”
    “Are you kidding?” She didn’t answer, but I could tell by her expression that she wasn’t. “Okay, Miss Longbottom . Would you care to take a seat?”
    “Thank you.” She sniffed the air. “Is it my imagination? Or is there a very strong smell of cat in here?”
    “He’s over there.” I pointed to Winky who was resting after his latest semaphore class. “He doesn’t smell.” Much.
    “Hmm?” She screwed up her nose.
    Mrs V came back into my office; she was carrying a small pile of scarves.
    “I forgot to ask you, young lady. Would you care for a scarf? I have all colours and sizes. I have socks too, if you’d prefer those?”
    “I’m not allowed to accept gifts of any kind. It’s against the rules. Tax inspection is a very sensitive area. It’s essential that we’re seen to be squeaky clean.”
    I almost choked. Betty Longbottom— squeaky clean ? This was the woman who’d been shoplifting as a hobby for years; the woman who had an Aladdin’s cave of stolen goods in her apartment, and who’d asked me to rescue her from the police when she’d been caught red-handed. It was only because I’d used magic to hide the contraband that she’d got away with it. Now, she had the audacity to sit there, and say that she couldn’t accept a scarf because it might be seen as a bribe! The two-faced little madam!
    Mrs V backed out of the room.
    “So what is it that you want, Bet—err, Miss Longbottom?”
    “We’ve had reports, Miss Gooder.”
    “What kind of reports?”
    “Reports that you’re paying your staff off the books .”
    “How do you mean, ‘off the books’ ? And anyway, I don’t have any staff.”
    “What about the woman out there; the woman with the scarves?”
    “That’s Mrs V. She’s not really staff. She’s—well, I suppose in theory she’s my P.A.”
    “What’s that if it’s not staff?”
    “Basically, Mrs V just knits all day.”
    “But she does answer the phone?”
    “Occasionally. If she’s not knitting anything too complicated.”
    “And she does greet people when they arrive?”
    “I suppose so. She usually offers them a scarf or a pair of socks.”
    “How much do you pay her?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Come, Miss Gooder. Do you really expect me to believe that? Who in their right mind would work for you for nothing?”
    “I don’t ask her to work for nothing.”
    “So you do pay her?”
    “No.”
    “Do you pay her under the table?”
    “I don’t pay her under the table, on top of the table or behind the table. I don’t pay her at all. She chooses to come here because she’d rather do that than stay home alone.”
    Betty gave me a sceptical look. This could turn nasty. No one was ever going to believe that Mrs V came to work without pay. It was far more likely that they’d think I was paying her ‘cash-in-hand’ so as to avoid tax.
    I had to kill this investigation quickly, and the best way to do that was to remind Betty that she owed me a favour.
    “By the way, Miss Longbottom, did you have a clear-out yet?”
    “Sorry?”
    “Those items in your spare bedroom; the ones that the police were interested in?”
    “I’m not here to discuss my personal affairs, Miss Gooder. I’m here to discuss whether or not you are defrauding the tax office.”
    “Oh, okay. I just assumed you’d prefer no one found out about that.”
    “You’re not threatening me, are you, Miss Gooder?”
    “Of course not. Because that would be a very serious offence. No threats involved here.”
    “I think the only way to resolve this matter is for me to speak with your accountant.”
    Hold on just a doggone minute. Betty knew full well that Luther was my accountant. She must have heard he was no longer in a relationship. All this was just a clever ploy, so that I’d arrange for her to