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Who’s Mrs Cake?’ Then Windle realised what Schleppel had just said.
‘Anyway, you’re a bogeyman.’
‘You never heard of Mrs Cake?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t suppose she’s interested in magic . . . Anyway, Mr Shoe says we shouldn’t talk to her. She exploits dead people, he says.’ ‘How?’
‘She’s a trying to move a heavy object.
He turned his head.
‘ ‘Evening, Mr Poons. Still dead, I see.’
“Evening, Modo. You’ve got the place looking very nice.’
‘There’s someone moving a door along behind youmedium. Well, more a small.’‘Really? All right, let’s go and see her. And . . . Schleppel?’‘Yes?’‘It’s creepy, feeling you standing behind me the whole time.’‘I get very upset if I’m not behind something, Mr Poons.’‘Can’t you lurk behind something else?’‘What do you suggest, Mr Poons?’Windle thought about it.’Yes, it might work,’ he said quietly, ‘if I can find a screwdriver.’Modo the gardener was on his knees mulching the dahlias when he heard a rhythmic scraping and thumping behind him, such as might be made by someone