Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set

by Paula Berinstein

  Amanda was aware that Simon wasn’t one for conspiracy theories. He was the most rational person she knew. So if he had a hunch that Professor Redleaf had seen something terrifying, it was worth investigating. But how? She was sure Holmes had already checked the teacher’s browser history and digital activities. If he hadn’t come up with anything from that, what else could there be?

  She asked Simon if he had developed any theories about what the teacher might have seen, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t even explain why he thought what he did. This wasn’t like him, but she knew him well enough now to trust him. He probably just had to let everything swirl around in his head for a while and then he’d be able to articulate his reasons.

  She and Ivy overheard the teachers saying that the last aftershock had damaged parts of the school so badly that they were going to have to block them off and get repair crews in at once. The dorms had been spared, but the administrative area that housed Headmaster Thrillkill’s office and the hospital were now off limits. Fortunately there was unused space in the main building, and both departments were to be relocated to the top floor near Professor Tumble’s Disguise classroom. The severe damage also extended to the front door, and the south lounge, which belonged to Van Helden House, was touch and go. If Thrillkill were to close it, David and Gordon would not be happy, but then they were never happy, so what did it matter?

  It seemed to be a particularly talky day because the kids overheard a lot of other noteworthy stuff as well. For one thing, even though the teachers still weren’t mentioning the whatsit by name, they too believed that Blixus might have it and thought they should track him. In fact, they were sending two teachers to London to check the factory ruins and all his known hiding places. This prospect worried Amanda because she knew she was also going and didn’t want to run into Professors Scribbish and Feeney, who had been selected for the job. Amphora thought the two teachers would make a cute couple, but Simon told her this was serious stuff and to stop making frivolous comments. Ivy wasn’t around or she probably would have fined him.

  They also heard a lot of squabbling. Professor Peaksribbon said that he didn’t care what anyone said, he was going to make a plan for replacing the whatsit. (He didn’t say “book.” None of the teachers used that term. They all called the whatsit “it.”) Professor Feeney said that she was going to hunt down whoever had taken it and neutralize them. Professor Tumble kept trying to calm the others and urged them to take a wait-and-see attitude. And Professor Mukherjee said emphatically that they should close the school.

  It was becoming clear to the kids that the teachers were divided on the topic of the whatsit and that the schism that was forming was starting to tear them apart. They knew they couldn’t speak to the teachers about the problem because they weren’t supposed to know about it, although how anyone could fail to be aware with all that talk going on was beyond Amanda. What she and the others did know, however, was that the sooner they found the book the sooner the teachers would calm down and be able to direct their energy to other things, like fixing the school.

  Of course because they had their listening devices in their ears, they heard a lot of other stuff too, and Amanda was beginning to understand how too much information could wear a person out. Perhaps when she wasn’t trying to overhear important stuff, Ivy should put cotton in her ears to tone it down and give herself some peace, assuming her hearing was working better. Amanda was afraid to ask.

  But at least some of the talk was funny. The décor gremlins always raised her spirits. At one point she heard Noel say that Alexei’s design for the day was so sloppy that he should go back to school. Hearing this, Alexei said that Noel’s taste was paleolithic and he should get into a time machine and go where he would be appreciated. Noel countered by saying that Alexei needed a brain refresher, and Alexei, even more unkindly, said that Noel was fat.

  One thing she did feel guilty hearing was, wonder of wonders, Holmes being taken to task by Professor Stegelmeyer for a mistake he’d made in Crime Lab. Then later she heard Professor Pole, the nicest person in the world, lose his temper with Holmes over another supposed error. The teachers weren’t simply offering constructive criticism. Holmes had done something that had actually angered them, although she couldn’t tell what. That such a thing could happen was so startling that Amanda thought she must be hearing wrong, but Ivy confirmed her perception. Either the teachers had gone mad or Holmes was losing his grip. Could it be the stress of teaching the cyberforensics class, or maybe the hacking project, or trying to do both?

  Yes, he was under stress, but Amanda decided that the real problem was that Holmes was a jerk. He’d waltzed into Legatum thinking he’d be a star, but he wasn’t up to it and now the truth was coming out. When she expressed this opinion to the others, they just looked at each other and said nothing.

  Then Amphora found a new piece of evidence. She had been poking around in the area where they’d found the crystals and had even ventured into the cavern where the skeleton had been walled up, when she spotted something shiny. She squatted down and looked at it closely and saw that it was a key. Fortunately she had brought evidence bags with her, so she sealed it up and brought it right to Professor Stegelmeyer for analysis. When this occurred, all the teachers came running to see the new treasure. Amanda hadn’t been present, but as soon as she’d left the lab Amphora had run to tell her and Ivy.

  “I’m really chuffed,” she said, showing them a picture of the key.

  “You should be,” said Amanda. “The key could tell us who the victim is.”

  “And the murderer,” said Ivy.

  “If I tell you something, promise you won’t tell anyone?” Amphora said.

  “Of course,” said Amanda.

  “I swear,” said Ivy.

  “To tell you the truth,” Amphora said, “I’ve been feeling pretty insecure about my skills. I mean you guys all find important clues and figure out what they mean. And Simon is so good in the lab it’s intimidating. I feel like a dummy.”

  “You’re not a dummy!” said Ivy. “How can you think such a thing?”

  “Yeah,” said Amanda. “You contribute as much as the rest of us. Why do you say that?”

  “I’m not clever like you,” said Amphora. “You guys are always coming up with brilliant ideas and solving difficult problems.”

  “So are you,” said Amanda. “We couldn’t have solved the class project last term without you.”

  “All I did was tag along,” said Amphora.

  “Not true,” said Ivy. “You were the one who researched all the teachers. Without all that deep knowledge we never would have been able to come up with potential perpetrators. And we never would have known that Professor Pickle was involved in that big dispute with Clive Ribchester.” Ribchester was Professor Pickle’s commercial rival. They both came from pickle-making families and were highly competitive. For a long time the kids had suspected that he’d blown up the professor’s car to send a message, but it turned out that Professor Pickle wasn’t the bomber’s target after all. Amphora had been key in figuring that out too. “You’ve got the complete dossier on the teachers. No one else knows half what you do about them. That’s hugely valuable.”

  “It’s just a bunch of gossip,” said Amphora.

  “Uh uh,” said Amanda. “You have research skills way beyond what the rest of us can do. We need you.”

  “Thanks,” said Amphora. “I hope you’re right. Anyway, I was feeling insecure and I wanted to see if I could be a hero. Maybe I could find something everyone else missed. But also I wanted to see if I could find more crystals. I’m really interested in them.”

  “And look what happened,” said Ivy. “You did.” She squeezed Amphora’s hand.

  “So I did,” said Amphora, drifting off into space.

  “I can’t wait to find out what the teachers think about the key,” said Amanda. “I don’t know anything about keys. I can’t even tell from the shape what kind of lock it goes with.”


  “Let’s go see if we can find out something,” said Ivy.

  When the girls entered the lab, Professor Stegelmeyer told them that the key probably belonged to some kind of lockbox or chest. Unfortunately no one had yet been able to identify it or link it to a specific individual. The teachers figured that whoever the dead man was, he had swallowed the key and it had fallen into the dirt as the skeleton was shaken during the earthquake. It was frustrating that they still couldn’t tell who he was, but now they had new lines of inquiry to pursue. Who would swallow a lockbox key and why? Where was the lockbox or chest and what could be in it? Professor Stegelmeyer told them that he and the other teachers hadn’t begun to theorize about those questions yet.

  Amanda texted Simon to let him know what was going on. He was very excited about the key and even said something nice about Amphora. He also told her that they’d better get to London as soon as possible. Suddenly Amanda realized that if there were indeed crystals in the wreckage, the sunlight beating down on them might overfill them and kill them. It might even be too late. They’d better skedaddle. They prepared to leave first thing the next morning.

  Of course to get to London, Amanda and Simon, who had decided that just the two of them should go or else they’d move too slowly, would have to sneak out of the school. Amanda had been through that before. Last term she’d pretended to be a maid and had stowed away on a delivery vehicle. That strategy, however, had turned into a disaster when the lorry had taken her all the way to Edinburgh, which lay in the opposite direction from the factory in London. As a result, she’d arrived at her final destination when it was dark and had had little time in which to find and save her father before the Moriartys planned to kill him. Luckily, with Ivy’s remote help, she’d been able to bypass the security keypad, enter the building, and save Herb Lester in the nick of time.

  They weren’t going to try that again. This time they’d be sure to get to the train station properly. For transportation they’d use their skateboards, and to keep their mission secret they’d exit the school through the tunnels, first grabbing a few crystals to light their way in case their phones didn’t get reception. Except for one thing: they’d have to figure out how to get through the gates at the end. That was such a thorny problem that it almost stopped them, until Amanda ran into Clive Ng, who just happened to be telling a fifth-year student about a technique he was developing to levitate things using sound waves. Bingo! Maybe he could help.

  “Hey,” said Amanda.

  “Whazzup?” said Clive.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing what you were telling that kid,” she said.

  “Please don’t spread it around. My method isn’t completely tested and it’s pretty powerful stuff. Not that I don’t trust people around here, except what happened last term . . .” He stopped, somehow aware that he’d raised a sensitive subject. He hadn’t known Amanda or Nick well, but he’d seen what had happened the day Nick had tried to beat up David Wiffle for accidentally kicking Amanda. He could add two and two.

  “How well does it work?” she said.

  “Intermittently.”

  “Would you like to test it in a real-life situation?”

  Clive’s eyes lit up. “Would I. You know of something?”

  “I might,” she said, realizing that she and Simon would have to check Clive out before confiding in him. “You’re interested then?”

  “Absolutely. Hit me.”

  “Give me a little while. I’ll text you.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Can’t wait.”

  When she told Simon, he was ecstatic. “If this works we’ll be out of those gates in no time,” he said. “But you’re right. We have to check him out.”

  “I know just how to do that,” she said. He looked at her quizzically. “Ivy. Fern knows his sister, I think.”

  As it turned out, Fern knew Clive’s sister, Lucky, very well. In fact they were best friends, and when Ivy asked about Clive, Fern told her that he was not only the best guy in the world, but a genius. It almost sounded as if he was another Simon. Amanda imagined the two of them together—Tweedle-Simon and Tweedle-Clive. She hoped they’d get along and not fight the way people who are too alike sometimes do.

  But her fears turned out to be groundless. After she and Simon had explained the mission, the two boys started talking a mile a minute, and soon the three were as tight as Amanda’s pantyhose before she’d lost weight.

  “Do you want me to show you in the lab?” said Clive. “I can do that or we can just go to the gates and give it a try. Do you want to go now? Shall I come to London with you? I’m really excited to see if this works because if it does—”

  “I know how to help you patent it,” said Simon.

  “You’re kidding,” said Clive. “That would be awesome.”

  Amanda gave Simon a look. Not Holmes again. Simon ignored her.

  “Let’s do it now,” said Simon. “But I think it’s best if only two of us go. We’ll patch you in when we get there.”

  “Sweet,” said Clive. “Vamos.”

  When Amanda got on the skateboard that Simon had prepared for her she discovered a new talent. She’d never thought of herself as athletic, but somehow those Lestrade genes had bestowed upon her the ability to maneuver her board perfectly. Of course Simon had rejigged the boards to glide smoothly over ruts and bumps, which helped a lot, and they were able to race through the tunnels at an astounding speed—except for the times when Amanda insisted on trying fancy moves, with Simon and Clive first applauding her skill and then trying to top her. She wondered if they should extend the bumper-broom game so it could be performed on skateboards. Of course, Thrillkill would never allow skateboards in the halls, but the tunnels would work just as well if not better. Simon agreed that the idea was worth pursuing and Amanda stopped to make a note.

  As they breezed through, Amanda wondered about the tunnels they had yet to explore. It seemed that there were more of them than there were veins in the human body. At least that was how it felt. She had no idea how many veins people actually had, but it seemed like a lot. She desperately wanted to get into that secrets trove, whether or not it had anything to do with the missing book.

  Clive was amazed when he saw it and said it reminded him of a formation he’d seen on YouTube—some place in the American Southwest. As she once again considered how they might get into the compartments, it struck Amanda that the book might hold the collected secrets all in one place. Simon agreed that that was a possibility, and if that was what the book was about, it would be hugely important. No wonder the teachers were freaking out. All their secrets exposed? Yikes. All this was new to Clive, who kept complimenting them on their discoveries. He knew the teachers had been acting strange but he’d thought it was because of the earthquake.

  Suddenly Amanda stopped so abruptly that she almost flew off her board. “What was that?” she said.

  “What was what?” said Simon, who’d been performing a stunt a ways behind her.

  “I heard a voice,” said Amanda quietly. “That way.” She pointed down a side tunnel.

  “Maybe it’s one of the teachers,” said Simon, whispering. “This might be a chance to gather important intelligence.”

  Amanda agreed. They picked up their skateboards so as not to make noise and snuck down the tunnel, which was a narrow affair, but not so skinny that they couldn’t walk side by side. Still, they hugged one wall so as to remain out of sight. When they had almost reached yet another clearing they stopped. Amanda put her finger to her lips, then pointed. There was Editta, sitting on the ground, sobbing her heart out. In perfect rhythm, Amanda, Simon, and Clive looked at each other as if to say, “Well, what do you know?” Not that Amanda was surprised, except she was. She’d never expected to find Editta hanging around the basements, although when she thought about it, why not? She gestured, “Should we go see her?” Simon shook his head and Clive agreed. She nodded and they tiptoed back to continue their travels.

  When they had re
ached the three gates that led to the lake, they discovered that the broken one had been repaired. Clive told them that would make it easier to get through because the hardware was all nice and new and should move easily.

  “Now I can’t guarantee this will work,” he said as he removed a weird-looking piece of equipment from his backpack. “I don’t know if the device can lift pins out of hinges. By the way, you never want to do this around dogs. The ultrasound will break their eardrums.”

  “We’ll remember that,” said Amanda. If it came down to a choice between getting past the gates and protecting Nigel, she’d pick Nigel every time.

  “What I plan to do is this,” Clive said. “I’m going to place a reflector behind each hinge I want to loosen. I’ll start with the closest one, obviously, because I’ll be able to reach it.”

  “So you’re going to stick something behind each hinge on the first gate, then zap it,” said Amanda.

  “Correct,” said Clive. “When I’ve lifted all three pins, we’ll be able to move the gate from the edges and slip through. Then I’ll repeat the process until we’ve got through all three gates.”

  “I hope they’re not too rusty,” said Simon. “They might stick.”

  “I thought of that,” said Clive. “I’ve got some good old WD-40 with me.”

  “Excellent,” said Simon.

  “I’ve got a camera here that I’ll leave after you’re gone,” said Clive. “That way I can monitor the gates and make sure no one comes through. Then when you’ve returned we can lower the pins again and voila! Good as new.”

  “Cool,” said Simon. “I’m impressed.”

  “Me too,” said Amanda. “I had no idea you rock people were so versatile.”

  Clive smiled. “Let me just put this reflector . . .” He reached behind the bottom hinge and placed a shiny piece of metal against the wall of the tunnel. It slipped. He wiggled it and let go. It slipped again. Finally he took a piece of blue tack out of his pack, stuck it on the metal, and pressed the reflector to the wall. “Sometimes you need to get tough with these things,” he said. Then he extracted his WD-40 from his backpack and oiled the hinge. The metallic smell was strong and unpleasant.