It's Magic!

Book summary

In "It's Magic!", Harry Bell's career takes a whimsical turn after an unusual encounter with a talking dog. When his landlady faces financial trouble, Harry embarks on a mission to prove her innocence, fueled by his affection for her daughter. Alongside his former desk sergeant, he infiltrates a suspicious PR company, only to find complications involving a passionate undercover officer. Amidst murder and drug investigations, Harry's determination to crack the case and win back love prevails, despite bureaucratic obstacles. A charming blend of magic and mystery unfolds in this delightful tale of perseverance.

Excerpt from It's Magic!

‘Don’t take it too hard, chum,’ sympathised the desk sergeant as Harry handed over his helmet, bringing an end to his short-lived career as a police constable. ‘It wasn’t me who gave you the push.’ He lowered his voice in case he was overheard by his inspector. ‘You weren’t to know the fellow you tried to arrest in the dark was the new Chief Constable… and the fog an’ all didn’t help.’

Harry Bell heaved a sigh of resignation. ‘Just my luck. If it was only that, I might have got away with it, after getting a right ticking off and a black mark on my records. I should have known better. It was arresting that blonde the next day for being drunk and disorderly that did it – how was I to know it was the mayor’s wife.’

‘Ah, well that’s where you made your second mistake, son. It turned out to be his bit of crackling he was meeting on the sly – Saucy Sue, they call her. That wasn’t your day, was it, when it all came out, especially as it happened to be his wedding anniversary. Never mind, my lad, that’s all behind you now.’

‘But what am I going to do?’

Catching sight of his inspector looming in the background, Sergeant Matthews hurriedly straightened up.

‘Do? Why, buck your ideas up, young man and turn over a new leaf, that’s what. Bear in mind what the force has been teaching you these past two years – discipline and dedication. Remember that, and you can’t go far wrong.’ He looked cautiously over his shoulder. ‘Has he gone?’ Putting the police helmet away out of sight, he relaxed visibly.

‘Where was I? Oh yes. Now, how I see it is this. Forget about those… ahem, unfortunate lapses. Put it behind you and write it off as experience. You’ve got the rest of your life ahead of you.’ He leaned over confidentially. ‘Think of it as a new adventure. Take after your Uncle Ted – he wouldn’t let any upset like that stop him getting where he is today, a respected and retired Detective Sergeant – it takes hard work and determination.’

‘You should have heard what he said when I told him about it,’ replied Harry despondently.

‘Well, you’ll just have to show him what you’re made of.’

‘Don’t tell me, an idiot nephew without a job and no prospects, that’s what.’ Harry sighed. ‘I owe the landlady for a week’s rent, just to start with.’

Doing his best to cheer him up, the sergeant fished out a sheaf of ‘wanted’ notices and selected some at random. ‘Hold your horses, you’ve still got a good brain and all that training to fall back on, don’t forget. Why not have a go at one of these to keep you going. Look, there’s a hefty reward for this one, if you catch him it would pay your rent for the next year or so.’

Harry took it with a sigh and read it. ‘“Butch Jones, real name unknown, escaped on remand, wanted for false identity and attempted murder. Armed, do not approach.”’ He handed it back. ‘Urgh! Fat chance, he’ll be miles away by now – that was six months ago.’

‘Well, what about this one – “Scarface Willie on the run, convicted of assault and threatening witness.”’

‘Charming. He should be easy to find, with a name like that,’ responded Harry drily.

‘Oh, and there’s this one that’s just come in. “M. T. Banks, con artist and fraudster.” Blimey, no wonder he took people in, his moniker was a dead giveaway.’

Harry scanned the details dubiously. ‘The last one looks more promising. At least I don’t need a gun with that character – just a lock-up safe, by the sound of it.’

‘Have a go and keep in touch, lad. I don’t usually get this feeling, but my instincts tell me you’re someone worth watching with your background, so don’t let me down. You’re not the only one to find yourself in this position. There’s plenty of others waiting their turn, so be prepared to give a hand when it's needed. Your Uncle Ted has a lot of faith in you, don’t forget – he’s a great mate of mine,’ he ended gruffly. ‘You can always give me a buzz if you need any back-up help, unofficially of course.’

‘Thanks, Sarg,’ Harry said. ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I promise to follow up those tips. Meanwhile, I’ll have a word with my landlady and see if she’ll still have me.’

‘Think nothing of it, Harry. Give my regards to Mrs M and don’t forget…’ he whispered, ‘keep clear of that Chief Constable – Slaughter by name and by nature, they call him, with good reason.’

Without his familiar uniform to comfort and reassure him and attired in his old sport shirt and slacks, Harry felt almost undressed as he made his way out of the station for the last time, the desk sergeant’s words of warning ringing in his ears.

He picked up his satchel from the cloakroom and was about to step outside when a hand descended on his shoulder and a familiar voice bellowed cheerfully in his ear, ‘And where do you think you’re going, my old china?’

He turned around, taken aback, and was confronted by his fellow officer and old school chum, Freddie, backed by a row of grinning faces.

‘You don’t think we’re going to let you go without a farewell knees-up, do you? Come on, the first round is on me, what d’you say, guys?’

To a chorus of cheers and slaps on the back, Harry found himself being steered in the direction of the nearest pub and a welcome pint was thrust in his hand to help him drown his sorrows.

‘D’you know what?’ appealed Freddie to the others. ‘He was going to nip off without a word to anyone, the cheeky devil. This calls for a toast – to Harry Bell. May he forever be our friend and mate, wherever he goes and whatever the future holds for him. Cheers!’ He followed this up with, ‘Let’s see 1969 goes out with a bang – here’s to 1970 and good luck for better times to come.’

From then on events became a bit blurred, as far as Harry was concerned. So, when ‘last drinks, gents’ time was announced, Harry was barely conscious of being lifted off his stool and helped to Freddie’s quarters for the night, wearing a blissful smile.

The next morning, by a supreme effort, he managed to stagger into the bathroom for a shower and a freshen up. Unable to face breakfast, and with the knowledge that his lodgings were a good eight miles away, he cursed himself for not accepting a lift from Freddie. But the thought of talking about recent events was too painful to bear, even with Freddie.

He had airily declined, offering the lame excuse that the exercise would do him good. To his relief, he covered the first few miles at a good pace with surprising ease, then coming across a signpost indicating that his destination, Tanfield, was still another five miles ahead, his optimism began to wane.

After taking a breather, he resumed his journey, resolutely putting aside his niggling aches, and after a while he became vaguely aware that he wasn’t alone, despite the fact he was surrounded by miles and miles of bare hills and valleys, without a soul in sight. Pausing to get his second wind, he thought he heard a faint scuffling sound and looking around he caught sight of a scruffy, longhaired dog at his heels, looking lonely and slightly the worse for wear.