Framed!

by Malcolm Rose

  “I was on my own. But I saw Rick Glenfield, the caretaker, on my way out. That would have been around five thirty, I suppose.”

  With the cloying smell of burning candle wax in his nose, Luke stormed out, followed closely by his mobile. As he strode down the corridor, he said to Malc, “Tell me everything you’ve got in your files about Vince Wainwright, Ms Kee and Georgia Bowie.” He hesitated before adding, “And Rick Glenfield.”

  Chapter Seven

  Rick Glenfield had once been an instructor of Information Technology but, according to his file, he’d been demoted four years ago because of serious doubts about his competence. Now he was a caretaker, his responsibilities included keeping the weapons storeroom clean and safe.

  Luke found him in his own rooms, sitting in subdued greenish light, looking into a glass cage. Like Shane, Rick Glenfield seemed to have a fascination with reptiles because inside the cage was a fat snake, about two metres long, with a flattened triangular head. It was pale orange in colour with a pattern of black arrowheads running down its back. “It’s a rattlesnake,” he told Luke. “Crotalus adamanteus. The heaviest poisonous snake around. The boss. He loves rats, rabbits and squirrels like we love steaks. And he’s very aggressive.”

  For the moment, Luke had worked out much of his own aggression on Instructor Bromley. Feeling emotionally empty now, he intended to fill the emptiness with his investigation. “The weapons storeroom. Has anything gone missing recently?”

  Rick thought about it for a few moments and then said, “No.”

  “Any bows or arrows?”

  “I don’t count arrows,” he answered, “but I heard where one ended up.” He shook his head sadly.

  “Did you know Crispin Addley?”

  “No. I must have seen him around. I’d probably know him as one of the school students but that’s all.”

  Luke asked, “What about archery bows? I bet you count those.”

  “A couple went astray some time ago but no more have gone. I blame students who left school and took them, like souvenirs. Sometimes, missing ones have turned up in vacated rooms. Either way, The Authorities normally blame me.”

  Detecting a grievance in his voice, Luke pounced. “You once taught computing. I remember from when I was in Year 6. Why are you a caretaker now?”

  “There’s a great big file on me. I’ve seen it, but never got inside it. That’ll tell you.”

  It seemed to Luke that Glenfield resented the fact that a forensic investigator had access to school records but a caretaker did not. “Yes. I checked it out. I know what The Authorities say but I don’t know your side of the story. Maybe there’s a difference.”

  Rick was in his mid-thirties and his homely face sat inside a ring of ginger hair. Both his beard and the hair on his head were already tinged with grey. He took a deep breath. “In those days, I installed the school’s software. All the teething troubles, bugs and loopholes counted against me. My classes got lower marks than others in the same year. There were some discipline problems. And a million other things were all my fault, apparently.” He shrugged. “What can they expect when they always gave me the worst kids? As for the software, it leaked like a sieve but I didn’t write it. I only installed it. The other things? Well, we all have hiccups now and again. Most of the time, it was just my bad luck.”

  “You must have been annoyed,” said Luke, trying to lead him on.

  “A few staff backed me, like Ms Kee. I’ve always been grateful but it didn’t make any difference in the end. I was destined to be a caretaker, like a maggot’s destined to become a fly.”

  Luke wondered why Glenfield had singled out the Deputy Head but he had no wish to talk about her. Getting to his feet again, he said, “One final thing. I just wondered if you saw anyone while you did the rounds after school.”

  “Lots. I was making sure everything was spick and span so I didn’t pay any great attention to them.”

  “How about near the weapons store?”

  Rick shook his head. “I went there first, you know, to make sure it was secure. There wasn’t anyone around apart from me.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I looked after a detention for Ms Kee for half an hour after lessons. Then I went straight to the bunker. About four fifteen, I guess.”

  “Okay.” With a casual shrug of the shoulders and an expressionless face, Luke could make anyone believe they were spilling trivial titbits rather than crucial evidence. “What about near the gym?”

  “I don’t... Hang on. Mr Bromley was just leaving. His hair was all wet so I guess he’d just had a shower. That’d be nearing six by my reckoning.”

  “Fine,” Luke replied. “That’s all for now.”

  ****

  Luke always had a pomegranate for breakfast. The world – and Malc – had to wait until the lengthy process of eating came to an end. As Luke sliced eagerly into this morning’s fruit with a sharp knife, Malc commented, “Statistics show that less than one per cent of people eat pomegranates.”

  “Yes,” Luke replied. “If we could get the percentage up, there’d be a lot less crime.”

  “There is no evidence for that assertion.”

  “That’s because I just made it up. But the bad guys would have a lot less time for crime because pomegranates take so long to eat.”

  Luke would begin the day bleary-eyed but he’d emerge from the breakfast table like a butterfly from a chrysalis once he’d sunk his teeth into the clusters of the bright red seeds and sprayed the flavour around his mouth. Of course, he also sprayed the juice all over the table, making it look like the scene of a stabbing. Even an expert eater of pomegranates like Luke made a terrible mess.

  Baiting Malc, Luke said between mouthfuls, “Pomegranates make brains grow bigger, you know. People who eat them are super smart.”

  “That is another unproven claim. There is no known mechanism for pomegranates to increase human brain power.”

  “It’s because the inside of a pomegranate looks like a brain.”

  “There is no correlation between the appearance...”

  Smiling, Luke said, “Malc. Let me finish on my own. This one’s really good. I need to concentrate.”

  ****

  Ms Kee hurried along the corridor towards her office, early on Wednesday morning. For the moment, thoughts of Crispin Addley had been pushed aside by a timetable clash that Ms Thacket had spotted yesterday. She would have to sort it out with the sports instructor before school began. Ms Kee was also juggling several possible pairings. Some were causing her concern but she was convinced that Vince Wainwright was right for Jade Vernon and that Luke Harding would make an ideal partner for Georgia Bowie.

  She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she was proud of Luke Harding. He was living proof that her kind of discipline worked. Until recently, Luke had tasted more of her discipline than any other pupil. But it had worked. He was now a highly regarded forensic investigator. Even if Crispin Addley had lived to equal or surpass Luke, she would not have felt the same satisfaction because Crispin had never stepped out of line.

  Hoping that Ms Thacket would also be heading for her office, Ms Kee glanced again at her copy of the timetable and quickened her pace. She was not concentrating on where she was going because her mind was occupied and because she expected the way to be clear. The whole place had been stilled by Crispin’s murder. She let out a loud cry of surprise when she turned a corner and slammed straight into someone coming in the other direction.

  She didn’t see the needle and she didn’t feel a thing because it was coated with a local anaesthetic. When it punctured the skin of her right forearm, it numbed her nerves as it went. It slid easily through the epidermis and dermis, past greasy sebaceous glands, hair follicles and sweat glands, into muscle. There, the poisonous liquid in the syringe spurted through the hollow needle and into her tissue. But, with the force of the collision, the needle didn’t stop. It penetrated deeper, piercing the thin wall of a vein and squirting some of the d
eadly fluid into the column of blood heading for her heart. Like a drop of ink in a stream of water, the poison swirled and mixed as it raced along with the blood. Once it reached her heart, it would circulate quickly, each beat of her heart sending out little packages of poison to every part of her body.

  After yelping in shock, Ms Kee sighed. “You gave me a fright,” she said. “Still, no harm done.” She picked up a piece of paper that she’d dropped. “Anyway, come into my office. I need to have words about that business yesterday.” She led the way, scratching an itch on her forearm.

  ****

  If Luke had made a bet with Malc about the existence of a grieving girlfriend, he would have won. Almost as soon as school began in the morning, Malc was notified of several absences and shaken students but only one had hair that matched the description. It came as a shock to Luke when Malc reported that Olivia Pang was in Year 9 but, when Luke thought about it, things fell into place.

  Crispy had been in the year above her and the Pairing Committee did not permit unions between people of different ages. No wonder Shane had kept her name to himself. He’d been trying to keep her out of trouble. Luke also realized that, whenever Crispy and Olivia had got together, they would have done so in secret. It was crucial for Luke to find out from her if they’d met yesterday, shortly after four o’clock and just before Crispy died. He also needed to know where they’d met.

  Yet all his training hadn’t prepared him for handling a witness with a torrent of grief pouring down her cheeks. Every last shred of her attractiveness had dissolved in sorrow. She was sitting on her bed with a sodden handkerchief clasped tightly in her hands. She had probably been awake all night and her black hair was a mess.

  Instantly, Luke felt for her. Deciding what to do, he left her quarters right away. In the corridor outside, he said to Malc, “You stay here. I’m going back in to talk to her on my own.”

  “No,” Malc replied. “That is not permitted. No suspect or witness may be interviewed...”

  “Malc. What were my law marks?”

  “One hundred per cent.”

  “So, I don’t need you to recite it to me. I know it’s not permitted.”

  “Any information gathered without my presence is not admissible.”

  Luke sighed. “Yes, I know that one too. But use your logic circuits, will you? You’re very proud of them.”

  “I am not...”

  “Look,” Luke said, butting in again. “Believe me, she’s not going to say anything with you in there recording. That’s for sure. She might not say anything to me on my own either. But there’s a chance. So, if you come in, we won’t get anything for the case. If you stay out, we still won’t get anything for the case but I might just learn something useful. Which is better?”

  “I cannot sanction an unlawful action.”

  “Tough. Stay out here and report me. Give The Authorities something else to put in my bad file. It must be as fat as Rick Glenfield’s.” He went back into Olivia’s apartment and slammed the door shut.

  Chapter Eight

  Luke grabbed a chair and sat down opposite Olivia Pang. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  She did not respond.

  “I want to tell you something,” Luke continued. “Unofficially.”

  Olivia looked up, but immediately her head bowed again.

  “I’m going to be paired with a biologist called Georgia Bowie. She’s nice. I’d be the first to admit it. Bright and good-looking. Great smile, always laughing, great personality. Well-rounded figure. I should be delighted. I should consider myself lucky. If I hadn’t met Jade first... but I did. You know Jade Vernon, do you? Musician in my year.” He stressed the word musician.

  Now, Olivia was looking at him, listening.

  Even though it was painful to look into her tortured face, Luke held her gaze. “Yes. I fell for a musician. In a big way. You know what that means. She’s someone an investigator can never be paired with. Right age, wrong type. You see, I know what it’s like trying to come to terms with the rules for pairing – and failing. So, I understand a part of what you’re going through. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose Jade.”

  Olivia wiped her nose and cheeks with the handkerchief. “Crispy was determined to do as well as you. Better, if he could.”

  Luke smiled faintly. “I wish he’d had the chance.”

  Desperate to salvage something, she said, “I’m sure we’d have been paired if we’d been the same age.”

  Luke nodded and leaned forward. “I have to ask you something very important. The two of you would’ve planned your meetings carefully. What was your plan for yesterday afternoon?”

  Olivia looked surprised. “We didn’t have one.”

  “What? You didn’t have a date after school?”

  “No. Too much work.”

  Recovering from the unexpected answer, Luke asked, “Who’d want him out of the way, Olivia? There must be someone.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No.”

  “No one jealous or anything? Perhaps someone put out by your relationship with him?”

  Her shoulders shaking, Olivia had retreated into misery again.

  “If you think of anything, when you’ve had a bit of time, let me know. All right?”

  She nodded without looking up.

  “You can always come and talk to me. I can arrange for us to be private.” He didn’t get a reaction so he added, “You ought to know Shane didn’t tell me who you were. He did his best to keep you under wraps.” As he got up from the chair, Luke put a hand on her heaving shoulder. “Never be ashamed, Olivia. It’s the rules that are wrong, not you and Crispy.” Then he left.

  ****

  Luke held up the hair that he’d lifted from Olivia’s shoulder. “Scan it, Malc. Is it the same as the hairs on Crispy’s clothes?”

  “I can perform the DNA analysis but the result is inadmissible.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Processing.”

  “Give me the result on the way to Shane’s class.”

  Before Luke dragged Shane out of a lesson for a brief interview, Malc said, “The hair is identical with all four on Crispin Addley’s clothing.”

  Occupying an empty common room near to Shane’s class, Luke said to him, “I’ve found out who Crispy’s girlfriend was and I think I can keep her out of the case. You know that’d be best for her at her age. But, to get me to cooperate, you’ll have to make a deal with me.”

  Shane was frowning. “What’s that?”

  “You don’t have to name her. You just have to answer a couple of questions.”

  Suspiciously, Shane replied, “Go on.”

  “Did Crispy definitely say he was going to meet her when he left the greenhouse yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did he know?”

  “He said he’d had a telescreen message from her.”

  Luke nodded. “Okay. That’s all I need from you for now. As I said, I’ll do my best to keep her out of it. You can go back into your class.”

  Without losing a moment, Luke dashed towards Crispy’s quarters.

  Inside the apartment, he said, “Link yourself to his telescreen, Malc, and access any messages from yesterday.” With the nail of his forefinger, he flicked a pomegranate seed out from between two of his teeth.

  “There is one message,” Malc announced.

  “What is it?” asked Luke excitedly.

  “Meet me on the firing range. 4.30. Love, Olivia.”

  Luke raised a fist. “Yes! Now we’re flying. Where did it come from?”

  After five seconds, Malc said, “Untraceable.”

  Luke cursed as he came suddenly back down to earth. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. It didn’t come from Olivia Pang.”

  “Speculation.”

  “Why would she hide its origin when she’s signed it? No. It came from someone who lured Crispy out to the far corner of the field at an exact time. Olivia’s hairs on his clothes could have been t
here for ages. They don’t prove he met her yesterday. He thought he was going to meet her but all he got was an arrow.” Dejectedly, Luke added, “No wonder he looked shocked and cheated.” Trying to cheer himself up, Luke turned to Malc and said, “Have your logic circuits deduced anything about Demon Archer?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “He or she has sufficient computing skills to conceal the source of a telescreen message. Demon Archer is also aware of the relationship between Crispin Addley and Olivia Pang.”

  “Ah, those electrons are really singing. Now, ask yourself, did I know about Crispy and Olivia yesterday?”

  “You did not exhibit any knowledge of it,” Malc answered.

  “Put that into your notes on the prime suspect.”

  “Entered. However, you were unusually confident of identifying her today.”

  Luke put his head in his hands. When he looked up, he said, “I didn’t know her, Malc. Don’t confuse confidence and guilt. They’re quite different.”

  ****

  The search of Crispy’s rooms did not reveal anything noteworthy. Frustrating Luke, there was nothing that pointed to a motive for murder. For the first time, he began to wonder if there was a motive. Motiveless killings were very uncommon but they did occur. Luke had been taught that they happened when someone wanted to show their power through a random killing, when the culprit was mad, or when the person murdered was not the intended victim. Luke had also been taught that cases of motiveless killings were exceptionally difficult to solve.

  Malc interrupted Luke’s thoughts. “The pathologist has examined the extent of digestion of Crispin Addley’s last meal. Death is estimated to have taken place three and a half to four and a half hours after lunch.”

  “That fits,” Luke replied. “It’s all pointing to the four thirty rendezvous on the field. We know when and how. If I knew why, it’d lead me to who.”

  Malc’s neutral tone barely changed but Luke detected an added urgency when the mobile announced, “I have received another message.”

  “Oh?”

  “You are required in Ms Kee’s quarters.”