“The one with the dead body. The one you just autopsied.” She was feeling frustrated.
“Oh, that one,” he said. “My guess is that he was quite a handsome man.”
“Yes?”
“Yes what, my dear?”
Amanda wanted to scream. Was he being deliberately obtuse?
“Sir,” she said, “have you noticed any changes in the orange crystals that were stuck to the skull of the body we found under the school on Saturday?”
“Oh, those crystals. That body. I don’t know. Shall we take a look?” He sat there so calmly that Amanda wanted to stick a lighter under his butt and get him to react.
She didn’t have to, though, because the purple professor arose and motioned for them to follow him to the autopsy room. Normally this would have been a nauseating prospect, but the two girls were so desperate to see what was going on with the crystals that neither seemed to mind.
It took about two seconds to walk from Professor Hoxby’s office to the autopsy room. When they got there, though, it seemed that he had lost the key to the cupboard that held the crystals.
“Oh dear,” he said. “Wherever did I put that key?” The girls fidgeted so much you could almost hear their bodies hum. “I wonder. Perhaps in this drawer. No. That one? I can’t remember.”
Amanda spied a key sitting on top of the autopsy table. The idea of touching it was repulsive. She didn’t know how the man could handle all that awful stuff, even with gloves. She wasn’t going to touch it.
“Oh, Professor,” she said, pointing to the key. “Is that it?”
“I, uh, oh, there you are, you silly thing,” he said. Amanda and Amphora exchanged glances. He picked up the key and examined it. “Yes, I do believe this is the one. I know because it has an especially deep notch about a thirty-second of an inch from the right-most end.” The girls rolled their eyes but he didn’t see. “Let me just—aha! Treasure unearthed.”
He opened the cupboard and removed the crystals, which were sitting in a clear plastic dish. Apparently Professor Stegelmeyer had succeeded in removing them from the skull after all. Amphora held hers up next to them. They were definitely different. The skull crystals were paler and less luminescent than hers.
“Look,” she said. “They’ve faded, just like the others.”
“Amazing,” said Amanda. “They’re still pretty, but they’re definitely fainter.”
“So they are,” said Professor Hoxby.
“But watch this,” said Amphora. Forgetting to be afraid, she reached out and scratched one of the skull crystals. It immediately brightened and the orange color came back.
“Oh my,” said the professor. “Shall we try another?” He reached out and did the same thing to another crystal with the same result. “This is definitely worth more study. We must involve Professor Stegelmeyer.”
That was the last thing the girls wanted. First, they didn’t particularly like mean old Stegelmeyer, and second, they wanted to try things for themselves.
“Do you think we could take one or two to the lab and try our own experiments?” said Amanda.
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Professor Hoxby. “I want you to learn as much as you can from this out of body experience. Oh, that was funny.” He grinned. Amanda groaned in her head. “Yes, by all means. Would you like to select them?”
Amanda didn’t think it mattered which crystals they took, but she said yes anyway. She and Amphora each pointed to a crystal, which the dead bodies teacher bagged and labeled for them.
“Now you know you must sign for these,” he said.
“Of course,” said Amphora.
“Here is my register. Oh. It was here. What have I done with it?” He retraced every step he’d made when looking for the key. “Sorry. Can’t find it. Why don’t you sign this piece of paper?”
It was an old, crumpled, yucky piece of paper Amanda could swear had blood on it. She grabbed a pair of gloves and the pen he was holding out to her and signed. Amphora did the same, and they left with their prizes.
“Don’t forget to send me your report,” said the pathology teacher cheerily.
“Of course,” Amanda said, then whispered to Amphora, “I’ll use purple ink for his copy.”
The girls ran to the lab with their treasures. They repeated their previous experiments with the same results. Amphora seemed to have forgotten all about the crystals’ potentially deadly properties. Their odd behavior so intrigued her that she couldn’t wait to penetrate their secrets.
In fact, she was so excited that she did something completely out of character. She ran to Simon and dragged him to the lab to show him what they’d found. Amanda couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Perhaps the crystals did have secret powers. They had certainly effected a change in her roommate.
When Simon heard the news he lit up. “We’ve got to run exhaustive tests,” he said.
“Agreed!” said Amphora in a way Amanda hadn’t seen before, especially when talking to Simon, who looked as startled as if a live dinosaur had entered the room and sat down to watch TV.
“We should get started right away,” he said.
“I’d like to,” said Amanda, “but you know—the whatsit. That’s the most important.”
“Oh,” said Amphora. “Right.” She hesitated for a moment and then said, “Do you think we might get something named after us? The Kapoor crystals or something?”
Simon gave her a withering stare. “You’ve got to be kidding. Is that what you’re after? Glory?”
“Not really, but if it happened, wouldn’t it be cool?”
“Science is important for what it can do, not who does it,” said Simon. “It’s not about being a celebrity or massaging your ego.”
“I’m not massaging my ego,” Amphora said, raising her voice. “I do want to know. Why can’t it be both?”
“Hey, you guys,” said Amanda, “let’s forget about this, okay? If Ivy comes by she’ll fine you, and anyway we have more important things to do than squabble.”
Simon looked at her appreciatively, but Amphora frowned. “Why do you always cut me off right before I’m about to win an argument?” she said.
“I don’t do that,” said Amanda. “Where did that come from?”
Amphora moved back and looked at her feet. Amanda knew she was about to dig in and didn’t want to waste time trying to placate her. She was about to suggest that they come back to the crystals later when another strange thing happened. Amphora apologized.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong.” Amanda had to stop her mouth from dropping and Simon looked at her as if she were an alien with six heads. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m perfectly capable of admitting my mistakes. Sometimes I think you guys don’t know me at all.” She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and walked calmly out of the room.
When she’d gone Simon said, “That was weird.”
“I’ll say,” said Amanda. “I’ve never seen her like that before. You know, I definitely think something is in the air around here. Everyone is acting really strange. Do you think the earthquake released something?”
“Could be,” said Simon. “Except that a lot of this started before then.”
“You’re right. What then?”
“Who can say?” he said. “I suspect we’ll find out though.”
18
I’d Like To Thank The Academy
While the kids were turning their attention to the whatsit, the teachers were hard at work trying to establish the identity of the dead body and the person who had killed him. The most likely suspects were Moriarty’s moles—Mavis, the old cook, the crooked doctor, and Nick—so even though the staff had searched their rooms more than once, they did so again, looking for a murder weapon and any evidence that might tie the criminals to the body. Fortunately they left Amanda out this time, or at least they left her out of the search by name. They were still keen on getting the kids involved in a real case, so they encouraged all of them to help lo
ok for evidence, following procedure, of course. Professor Scribbish was to supervise their activities.
In the meantime, everyone was concocting theories about how and when the murder had occurred. The victim had to have been someone with access to the school. Otherwise the killer would have had to sneak him in, and that would have been difficult if not impossible. That meant the dead person was probably someone who resided there, or someone who had been there at least once. But no one had been reported missing, so who could it be?
Unfortunately, Amanda and her friends didn’t have time to think about all that. Even though the teachers were deeply involved in the case, they were still talking about whatever the whatsit was, and the kids managed to make out some of what they were saying.
One thing the teachers discussed endlessly was where they had already looked. Listening to them was a lesson in the geography of the school because they were constantly naming places the kids hadn’t heard of. This struck Amanda as strange because she hadn’t realized there were that many places she and the others didn’t know about. Perhaps they were familiar places with unfamiliar names.
At one point Ivy was listening to Professors Feeney, Snool, and Pargeter, and she heard Professor Snool say something about code names. Whether this was what he’d actually said no one knew. She had not gone to the doctor yet because she was still convinced her hearing would get better on its own. The others weren’t happy about her refusal to be checked, but they decided to lay off for the time being. Amanda was actually worried sick, but Simon said at the first sign of real trouble he’d pick her up and carry her to the hospital.
As Amanda strained her ears, she was able to deduce that the teachers had in fact assigned special names to secret places around the school. Knowing this, the team began a Rosetta Stone-like operation in which they tried to figure out which name was attached to which place. One intriguing location was the crypt. Another was the peekaboo. Still another was the cave. The names were as abbreviated and separated from any key to their meaning as the pieces of paper in the trove. If you didn’t know what they meant, they were as good as useless.
It seemed, too, that the teachers had given up on the idea that the whatsit had been lost and were starting to conclude that it had been stolen. Of course, as with the murder, the main suspects were the Moriartys. The teachers already knew that nothing of interest appeared on the evidence list from the factory explosion, which affirmed Amanda’s conclusion that there was nothing significant to find. That meant that none of the files on the computers or phones was of interest. Also none of the chemicals, sugar samples, medical equipment, or lab equipment. At least all that stuff had been eliminated and they wouldn’t have to waste time on it.
The kids also heard a lot of other discussion. For one thing, the papers on informants that had just been turned in to Professor McTavish were excellent, and one was brilliant, but the kids couldn’t make out who the author was. Then they heard that one of the teachers wanted to write a new article on predicting criminal behavior based on finger grease left on mobile devices, as well as something about a frantic search for Professor Also’s favorite umbrella, which she thought she’d left in the dining room but couldn’t find.
But listen as they might, the friends weren’t making much progress. And then something happened that insured they wouldn’t, or at least Amanda wouldn’t. Thrillkill decided that she and Holmes should, in fact, make the training film after all and her storytelling seminar be put on hold again. This news sent Amanda into paroxysms of frustration so pronounced that her stomach hurt for an hour after hearing it. Even gingersnaps couldn’t soothe the pain.
Since Professor Redleaf’s death. Holmes had been teaching the cyberforensics class and doing quite a job of it, from all the talk among the first-years. Even Amanda had to admit that he was good. He was teaching them how to track people’s digital activities, identify and trap hackers, and disable malware, which were, of course, huge topics, but he managed to get across the basic concepts in ways that everyone understood. He was building quite a reputation and Thrillkill was over the moon about his progress.
Amanda, however, felt chaotic. She was now juggling her classes, the murder, the crystals, the whatsit, the training film, Darius Plover, her parents, and Amphora’s constant crises, and the stress was beginning to show. However, there was one positive effect: she was too busy to think about Nick.
Unfortunately, she was going to have to focus on the film project now, which would take precious time away from more important things. However, as distracted as Thrillkill was, sooner or later he’d have a fit if she and Holmes didn’t produce something, so for once she contacted him and asked to meet. As usual, she received an instant reply. He was available right then. How about getting a cup of tea and meeting in the Cyberforensics classroom? After running through a number of colorful insults in her head, she figured she may as well get the whole thing over with as soon as possible and said yes.
As she clomped down the stairs, she thought about how she’d like to approach the situation this time. When the two of them had last met they hadn’t agreed on anything, but he’d been gracious and had let her take the lead. Maybe she should sit on her aggravation and see if that helped defuse the tension between them. Of course Holmes didn’t seem to think there was any tension, but as far as she was concerned, the two of them were engaged in a huge power struggle and had been from the first. He had his agenda and she had hers. That was what it always came down to when they were together. She couldn’t see how everyone else could like him. He was so difficult.
He reached the dining room the same time she did. He was wearing a bright multicolored sweater Amanda had to admit was really cool. She wondered if he had picked it out himself.
“Hey,” he said when he saw her.
“Hey.”
“You look nice,” he said sweetly.
Amanda looked down at what she was wearing. A blue sweater, jeans, and tennies. Whoop-de-doo. Was he trying to flatter her?
“Uh, thanks,” she said. “You look nice too.”
“Thanks. I’m really glad Professor Thrillkill changed his mind about the film,” he said. “It’s going to be fun.”
“Right,” she said.
“Look,” he said, “I know you don’t like my approach, so let’s back up and talk about what we should do instead. I’m flexible.”
Why was he being so nice? He really shouldn’t do that. It made it hard to hate him. Unless, of course, he was pulling a Nick and trying to fool her. She wouldn’t put it past him.
“Okay,” she said cautiously. “Let’s give it a try.”
“Want to work here?”
Amanda looked around the dining room. It was empty and quiet. No clatter of dishes, no cook running in and out, no students, nothing. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
He gave her a big grin and found a place at her usual table. Hers, not his. He never sat with her group at meals. Was he trying to invade her territory?
“Uh, how about over there?” she said, pointing to a table in the corner farthest from the hall door.
“Your wish is my command,” he said, bowing.
She fought the urge to tell him to stop playing with her and settled herself in the corner. He followed her so closely that she felt claustrophobic.
“Okay,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. “I think the film should tell a story. It should be a worked example that takes the audience through the solving of a problem.” She stopped and waited for his reaction.
“Boffo,” he said. Boffo? What century was this?
“We should come up with a question that demonstrates as many of the points we’re trying to make as possible. However, we shouldn’t try to make too many because people will get lost.”
“Agreed.”
This was too easy. She decided to press. “The problem should be dramatic with high stakes. People like a lot of drama.”
“Yes. That makes sense.” He paused for a moment, then yelled, “Yeah!�
�� so loud that Amanda almost fell off her seat. “Oops, sorry. I just had to think about it for a second, but I realized this is an amazing idea. You’re a genius, Amanda.”
Here was a conundrum. She loved being called a genius. It happened about once a century, so she wanted to savor the experience. At the same time, she was afraid he was trying to get on her good side so he could manipulate her and she was afraid to let her guard down. Oh well. Better to be careful. She ignored the comment.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said cautiously. “What’s a good problem to use?”
“There are so many. Let’s make a list.”
“You make the list and I’ll watch.” She had no idea what a good problem would be. She really did need him to take the lead here.
Holmes took out his tablet, stared at it for a moment, and began to type. Thirty seconds later he had a list of nine items. He turned it around and showed it to her. It read:
How to:
Get into a system when you don’t know the ID and password.
Recover deleted files.
Trace where a user is located.
Trace where a server is located.
Tell what a given user has done (audit trail).
Stop people from hacking in.
Set a trap for a hacker.
Identify and disable malware.
Find out who’s hacked you.
It was quite a list. Amanda was impressed. “This looks good,” she said. “Let’s pick one. Then we can turn the concepts into characters.”
“Sorry?” Well, of course he wouldn’t get it. What did he know about storytelling?
“All right, let me give you an example,” she said. He seemed to relax. “What if we made an IP address a character the investigator needs to track? The detective tails him or her, goes on a stakeout, that sort of thing.”
“Wellll,” he said.
“You don’t like it?” She could feel herself stiffen.
Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 52