Page 26 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

“Really potent magic too,” he adds. “That would also explain why it affected Dusty even though she wasn’t drinking. After being trapped together in the same body last year, there’s a bond between you two, a connection.”

“What?” Dusty replies incredulously. “Like E.T. and Elliott? He gets drunk and I go around setting frogs free?”

Harrison shrugs.

“Well, that’s just fucking great.” Dusty scowls. “Tristan, no more drinking for you.”

“I don’t think it works that way with ordinary alcohol or you’d both have noticed it before now,” Harrison muses. “But this was something else. This was powerful magic.”

“What was it supposed to do?” Chan asks worriedly. “Was someone trying to poison Viv?”

“If it was poison, we’d all be dead by now,” Danny says. “What we need to answer is what was it, and what was its intended purpose. Did someone else try to harm Viv or was it something she added to the gin herself?”

“But Viv didn’t use magic,” I say to Danny.

“Are you so sure?” he replies. “Because I’m beginning to think we didn’t know her at all.”

“Well, this is all bloody perfect,” Dusty grumbles. “At this rate, I’ll be lucky if they don’t fire me and send me straight to hell. I’m never going to graduate to full spirit guide. I’m going to be an intern forever.”

“What’s the difference?” Chan asks curiously.

“Being an official spirit guide comes with full celestial benefits, use of the upper level bathrooms, a great parking space and, as an optional extra, my own set of wings. Oooh, plus a levelling up of my gifts. Not sure I’d be able to turn water to wine, but I’m pretty sure minor miracles are on the table.”

I stare at her mutely and I’m pretty sure my brain is buffering right now. Any moment it’s going to show an error 404 message.

“We should get rid of this, then.” Chan grabs the bottle from Harrison and turns towards the door but before he can move, Harrison wraps an arm Chan’s waist and plucks the bottle from his hand.

“No, you can’t just tip it down the sink.” Harrison shakes his head. “Until we know what it is and what it does, we can’t risk introducing it to the water supply.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I ask.

When Harrison looks back at me, I can’t read his expression, but when he speaks, his voice is low and reluctant.

“We should to go back to the bookshop.”

6

Iunlock the door of the bookshop and step back to allow the others in first. Danny goes first with Chan, followed by Sam, who, like the rest of us, is now showered and dressed in clean clothes. Even though I’m feeling more human, there’s still some lingering effects from whatever magic mojo Viv’s gin was spiked with.

I enter the shop as Danny flips the switch to flood the silent, dusty space with light. Moving further in, I hear a squeaking noise next to me and turn to see Dusty wearing a… well, I’m not sure what it is. A catsuit? Hot pants? An avant-garde hybrid of the two? Catpants? Whatever it is, it’s got the biggest shoulder pads I’ve ever seen. It’s entirely made of bright yellow PVC, which means that not only does she resemble a rubber duck, but she also squeaks with each movement. Her signature blonde wig has been replaced with a bubblegum pink one and her makeup, which is usually slightly more subdued depending on her mood, is now full-on stage show.

It’s a little troubling. Don’t get me wrong. I love all of Dusty’s looks, but I have begun to notice that on the days when she’s really extra, it’s sometimes because she’s feeling worried or vulnerable, and full-effect Dusty gives her confidenceor a brightly spangled suit of armour—the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

“You okay, Dusty?” I ask quietly.

“Of course I am, boo.” She winks and I don’t push further. She’ll come talk to me if and when she wants to. She always does. “I’m going to check in with Bruce.”

Before I can open my mouth, she’s gone in the blink of an eye.

“Okay, then,” I murmur.

“Prickles, are you coming in?” Sam asks, and I turn to see Harrison still standing on the other side of the open door.

Harrison hesitates, but as I’m about to step back and check that he’s okay, he seems to steel himself and crosses the threshold.

The second he does, the floor vibrates beneath our feet. Not like an earthquake—not that I’ve ever experienced one of those—but more like the hum of a motor running. The lights flicker and the front door slams.

Weird.