Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set

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Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 57

by Paula Berinstein


  “Do you think he’d return to the factory?” said Amanda. “OMG, if he did, he’d find the crystals.”

  “We don’t know that there are any there,” said Ivy.

  “But there might be,” said Amanda, taking her seat again but sitting on the edge. “So now we have two reasons to go.”

  “It’s not going to be easy,” said Simon, speeding up. “Maybe we should search the school again before we worry about that.”

  “That’s a tall order,” said Ivy.

  “We didn’t know what we were looking for before,” said Simon. “This time it should be easier. If we see a book, we’ll know it’s a possibility. Anything else we can forget about.”

  “Assuming it’s the whatsit,” said Amanda, getting up again. She moved behind Ivy and rested her hands on the back of her seat.

  “Assuming it’s the whatsit,” said Simon, playing games with his feet. He was touching the toe of one foot with the heel of the other each time he moved forward now.

  “So we’ve got to search all of the rooms, closets, and cupboards as well as the tunnels,” said Amphora, who seemed mesmerized by Simon’s feet.

  “What about the teachers’ offices and quarters and the kitchen?” said Amanda, looking where Amphora was looking. There was something steadying about watching Simon’s OCD behavior.

  “I don’t think we need to bother with those,” said Ivy. “The teachers will have taken care of their own spaces and the staff’s.”

  “What about the students’ rooms?” said Amphora. “We’re not supposed to know about this. Is it possible the teachers have been searching our rooms without our knowledge?”

  “Wouldn’t we catch them at it?” said Amanda.

  “Maybe not,” said Amphora. “They might think it’s safe to do it when we’re in class.”

  “Considering the gravity of the situation, you wouldn’t think they’d do nothing,” said Simon, stopping in front of the others. He reached out and gave Nigel a tousle. “They probably have.”

  “I say they haven’t,” said Ivy. “It’s too sensitive. Doing that implies that they don’t trust us. I think the parents would be pretty upset if they knew that.”

  “Let’s forget about the students’ rooms for now,” said Simon. “We can do them later if necessary.”

  The others agreed, and in the morning they began a systematic search of the school—again. This time they needed even more help if they were to cover all that ground so quickly, so despite his weird behavior of late, they asked Holmes to join them. When he heard that an important book was missing he became agitated and agreed at once. He even said that he was happy to be invited. Seeing these sudden changes in him, Amanda wondered if he might be bipolar.

  They split up, with Simon taking the basements, Ivy and Amphora the top floor, and Amanda and Holmes the other floors. Amanda wasn’t happy that she was stuck with Holmes again but figured there was no point arguing with something so important at stake. He seemed to be a good searcher—very thorough—but she couldn’t bring herself to compliment him. He still irritated her.

  As they were combing the classrooms, he raised the issue of the film. “When do you think we can show it?” he said.

  “I’m having trouble with the audio,” she said. “Also, I keep getting distracted, so I don’t know.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Do you know anything about audio or compositing?”

  “Not really, but if you show me I can learn really fast.”

  “I don’t have time to show you, Scapulus. I don’t understand why Thrillkill didn’t assign someone who already knew this stuff.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Shut up.”

  This astonished Amanda so much that she clamped her mouth shut and stared at him. “What did you say?” she said when she had recovered enough to speak.

  “I said shut up. You know what you need? You need a good comeuppance. You’re rude and bossy. And I’ll tell you what else. I’m tempted to do it myself.”

  This outrageous behavior so infuriated Amanda that she picked up a blackboard eraser and threw it at him. It hit him in the shoulder and spewed so much chalk dust that both of them sneezed.

  “And another thing,” he said, “you’re not that good.”

  Amanda froze. “What do you mean I’m not that good?”

  “I mean you’re not as good a filmmaker as you think you are.”

  Amanda was shocked. How dare he say such a thing? Was this payback for her outburst that first day? Sure, she’d been thoughtless, but he was being cruel. There was a huge difference.

  “That’s rich coming from someone whose ancestor was a smug drug addict,” she said. “What could you possibly know about making movies?”

  Holmes looked horrified but said nothing.

  “Struck a nerve, did I?” she said. “How does it feel to be hit where it hurts?”

  A million different emotions seemed to pass over Holmes’s face. He turned and stormed out of the classroom.

  Just as Holmes was leaving, Amanda’s phone rang. Her friends rarely called her, so it was probably Thrillkill. She was in no mood to talk to him, but she thought she’d better answer anyway. But when she looked at the caller ID, she saw that the number was unknown. Oh great. Should she answer? Chances were that if she didn’t know the caller she wouldn’t want to speak to him or her. On the other hand, you never knew with this detective business. She should at least see who it was. She could always hang up.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Amanda!” screamed a woman whose voice she didn’t recognize.

  “Who’s this?” said Amanda tentatively.

  “It’s your cousin Despina, dear,” said the woman. “Hill and I are at the guard gate.”

  “Excuse me?” said Amanda.

  “Your dad’s cousins, Despina and Hillary Lester. From Liverpool. We’re here to show you around the Lake District.”

  For about the millionth time that day, Amanda’s jaw dropped. She had no idea who “Despina and Hillary” were and had no time to waste with them. They were at the guard gate? Was the woman nuts? You don’t just drop in on someone you don’t know like that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said coldly. “Do I know you?”

  “Of course,” fawned the woman. “We visited you in Los Angeles when you were six months old. What a pretty baby you were.”

  Amanda gagged. Where were her gingersnaps?

  “I’m sorry—is it Despina?”

  “Yes, darling. Despina and Hill.”

  “I’m sorry, Despina, but I’m in the middle of something.”

  “But we’re here, dear,” said Despina. “Oh, and I must tell you about your cousin Jeffrey. You know he’s a detective inspector now. And guess what: he was just transferred from Brixton to Scotland Yard. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Amanda had no idea who Jeffrey was, didn’t care, and was losing her temper. But before she could say anything, Despina said, “You need to come to Liverpool, dear. We have so much to show you.”

  “I can’t,” said Amanda. “Please go away.”

  This rejection didn’t faze Despina one bit. “Oh my. Sorry this isn’t a good time, dear. We’ll come back later.”

  Amanda shut off the phone without saying another word. She’d never have to deal with those bozos again. Who cared what they thought? Still, she was shaking. Whether it was from the bust-up with Holmes or the call from her so-called relatives she didn’t know. Why was everyone being so difficult?

  Then her phone rang again. Oh no. Not Despina again. She looked at the phone and saw that this call was from her mother. Could the day get any worse?

  She answered the phone and in a hostile tone said, “What!”

  “Amanda, is that you?” said her mother. “Why do you sound like that?”

  There was no point starting an argument. “Sorry, Mom,” said Amanda. “I was distracted. A mouse was nibbling at my foot.” Oops. Wrong thing to say.

  “What?” screamed Lila. “There are m
ice at Legatum? I’m going to call Headmaster Thrillkill at once.”

  Amanda recovered quickly. “It’s not a real one,” she said. “It’s a toy.”

  She could hear her mother let her breath out. “Oh,” she said. “That’s all right then. But it sounds frivolous. Who’s got a mouse toy? There’s studying to do. Maybe I should contact the headmaster after all.”

  “No, Mom, you don’t need to call,” said Amanda. “It’s an experiment. Everything’s fine. We’re all studying hard.”

  “Oh, an experiment,” said Lila. “I’m glad. Listen, Amanda, I’m terribly worried about you. You heard about the Moriartys, didn’t you?”

  Oh brother. Now her mother was going to be hovering. “Yes, we heard.”

  “Darling,” said Lila, “I want to make sure you reread the guide I wrote for the police. That awful Moriarty and his dreadful wife are dangerous. Your father and I are hiring bodyguards, so you’re not to worry about us. Your father still isn’t that well, but he’s under a nurse’s care. And by the way, the nurse is fabulous. She’s read every one of my books and loves them! Oh, and I’m sending you a copy of my new book, which has a lot of tips and tricks in it that could be helpful to you.”

  Kill me now. Why does she have to make everything about her?

  “And I almost forgot. Your father’s relatives in Liverpool phoned and said they’re going to call you. They’re fabulous people. You’ll have a wonderful time with them. Did you know that your cousin Jeffrey was just transferred from Brixton to Scotland Yard? Isn’t that exciting?”

  Amanda wondered when her mother was going to come up for air. How could she say so much in one breath?

  “You know,” Lila continued, “Hill is an usher in a magistrates’ court and Despina has her own line of clothing for jurors. They’re absolutely immersed in law enforcement. Such a wonderful family your dad has.”

  Where was that gingersnap anyway? Amanda felt around in her pockets. Ah. The cookie had split into pieces but it was still edible. She gulped it down and choked.

  “Darling, are you all right?” said Lila. “You’re not ill, are you?”

  She was, but not in the way her mother thought. “No, I’m not sick.” She stepped out of the classroom and made for the nearest water fountain. Her mother probably wouldn’t even hear her drink. She turned it on and let the water shoot into her mouth.

  “Anyway,” said Lila, “now that I know you’re all right I feel better. But please keep in touch more. Until those criminals are safely back in prison I’m not going to sleep.”

  Until Strangeways was repaired they sure wouldn’t be going back there, even if the police did manage to catch them. Amanda wondered how the other prisons were holding up. The UK was small, but not small enough that one earthquake, no matter how powerful, could damage all of them. On the other hand, if there were too many prisoners to fit into the country’s correctional institutions, what would happen? Would they send some of them to other countries?

  She snapped back to the conversation. “Thanks for calling, Mom. I have to go now but I’ll text you every day. Okay?”

  “Good. Don’t forget now.”

  “I won’t. Bye.” Amanda ended the call. Her heart was beating as fast as if she’d just completed a hundred-meter sprint. She really had to finish searching. With Holmes gone it would take them even longer.

  She finished drinking and was walking back to the classroom when her phone rang again.

  If this is that Despina again . . . She looked at her screen. Another unknown. It had to be that woman. She must still be at the gate trying to crash her way in.

  Amanda kept walking. The phone stopped ringing. Maybe Despina had finally got the message. Then it started ringing again, still from an unknown caller. Amanda sighed. The only way to get rid of that awful woman was to tell her in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want anything to do with her—ever. She answered and heard a man’s voice.

  “Amanda,” he said. “This is Darius Plover.”

  24

  Overwhelmed

  Amanda couldn’t believe her ears. Darius Plover was calling her? On the phone? Wait a minute. Maybe it wasn’t the real Darius Plover. Maybe it was someone playing a joke on her.

  “Hello?” she said, pretending she hadn’t heard.

  “I say it’s Darius Plover. I’m calling about the clips.”

  There was no way anyone else could know about the clips. It had to be him. OMG! But wait a minute. Maybe he was mad at her.

  “Amanda?”

  “Oh, sorry, Mr. Plover,” she said. “I was just so surprised to hear from you. I mean on the phone. I mean, hello?”

  “Hello,” he said. “Would you like to start over?”

  “No, I’m fine. I mean, how are you?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Thanks for asking. But I’m afraid I’ve interrupted you.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “Not at all. I’ve been on the phone all day.”

  Slap to head. What a stupid thing to say. Now he was going to think she was busy and hang up. Of course she was—busy, that is—but never too busy to talk to her idol.

  “Shall I call back another time?” he said.

  “No!” she said abruptly. “I mean no. This is a great time. “She didn’t think she sounded convincing.

  “Excellent. Well, then, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I thought I’d try you because I’m on a schedule and I’m anxious to move forward.”

  “Yes, of course. Schedules are—well, they’re very important.” What an idiot. She sounded like a complete dodo.

  “I was just wondering if you preferred one of the tent clips over another. I need to make a decision quickly and you’re my focus group.”

  Oh great. This was a huge responsibility and she didn’t like any of the clips. Now what? She had to say something and it had to be nice. Think, think.

  “Uh, I like the one with the red tones the best.”

  “You do? Good, because I was leaning in the other direction even though I had my doubts. Now I realize I should be using the deeper colors.”

  “Right. Well, I’m really glad I could help you.” Gosh, she sounded like a dork. He probably thought someone else wrote her messages for her. Surely someone who spoke as poorly as she did couldn’t write to save her life.

  “Me too,” he said. “I’m ever so pleased. Thank you, Amanda. I’ll let you go back to what you were doing now.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Any time.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  That certainly qualified as awkward conversation of the year. Worse, she hadn’t heard what he was saying but had lied to him anyway. She might have advised him to do the wrong thing! She’d idolized this man her whole life, and now that she’d actually got to talk to him she’d blown it. She reached for another gingersnap. Unfortunately she’d eaten the last one. If she wanted another, she’d have to go back to her room.

  Burping the entire way, she realized that too many things were hitting her at once. She had to find a way to get rid of some of them, or at least push them away long enough to deal with the others. What could she eliminate first? Not the whatsit. It was too important. Not the crystals. They were dependent on her and her friends for their survival. Not the film. Thrillkill would drive her crazy if she didn’t finish it. Professor Redleaf’s computer? Who knew what that was about? Holmes? He had stomped off. Maybe she wouldn’t have to see him for a while. That would help.

  As she was heading back to the dorm, she nearly ran into Amphora. She was arguing with David Wiffle.

  “I’m much more upper class than you are,” Wiffle was saying.

  “You don’t know anything about India,” Amphora said. “My family is Brahmin.”

  “Who cares what they do there?” said David. “Anyway, your highest level is lower than our lowest level.”

  “Look, peewee,” she said. “Indian civilization is way older than yours. We were around before anyone ever heard of the Saxons.”

  “I�
��m not a Saxon,” said David. “I’m from Cornwall.”

  “That just shows how stupid you are,” said Amphora. “Where you were born has nothing to do with where your ancestors came from.”

  “Oh yeah? Well you’re a lousy detective and you’ll never amount to anything.”

  Amanda didn’t know whether to butt in or sneak away and hope they hadn’t seen her. After about two seconds’ thought she decided it was better if Amphora didn’t know she’d heard, and she slunk upstairs as quietly as she could.

  She was surprised to find Ivy in their room. Apparently she was taking a break from searching and was putting more drops in Nigel’s eyes.

  “Hey,” she said when Amanda entered.

  “Hey.” Amanda watched Ivy with her dog for a moment and then burst into tears.

  “What’s the matter?” said Ivy, running to comfort her.

  “Oh, Ivy,” Amanda wailed.

  “Are you okay?” said Ivy, hugging her.

  Amanda sniffled. “It’s just—” She wailed some more.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?” said Ivy.

  “No,” Amanda sobbed. “Dot hurd.”

  Ivy patted her on the back, which seemed to have no effect. She leaned down, took hold of Nigel, and pushed him at Amanda, who grabbed onto him and wailed even louder. Nigel looked as if his ears were paining him but he didn’t budge.

  “I’m not supposed to have this, but you need some tea,” Ivy said. She dug out a one-cup water heater from her tiny desk, plugged it in, and filled a mug from a thermos hidden under her desk. When the water was hot enough she immersed a bag of chamomile tea in it and shoved it in Amanda’s face. “Drink,” she said.

  Amanda blew on the liquid, making little ripples on the surface. When she thought it was cool enough she took a sip. “Ouch.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Ivy. “Burn your tongue?”

  “I’b ogay,” said Amanda, whose tongue was indeed burned. It would probably feel uncomfortable all day. “I’b zorry. I dode beed to bother you.”

  “That’s all right,” said Ivy. “I’m your friend. You’re never bothering me.”

 

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