“That’s really unfair,” said Amanda.
“How would you know?” Amphora said, suddenly turning on her friend. “You always get away with breaking the rules.”
Amanda was stunned. “I do not. What a mean thing to say.”
“You lead a charmed life, Amanda,” she said. “You know you do.”
“Where do you get an idea like that?”
“You run down to London whenever you please and you never get in trouble. You break clocks and no one cares. You sneak out in the middle of the night—”
“I do not break clocks,” said Amanda.
“All right. Your boyfriend then. But you were with him.”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend and I didn’t like him breaking that clock,” yelled Amanda.
“Hey,” said Ivy. “People will hear.”
“He was not my boyfriend,” Amanda said hoarsely. “And I couldn’t believe he did that. He didn’t even care. I thought it was terrible.” Actually, at the time she’d admired Nick for taking matters into his own hands. She hadn’t liked the noise of the clock, so he’d climbed up, grabbed it, and broken it to bits. She’d never seen anyone act so quickly or decisively just to please her and she was thrilled. Not that she’d admit it.
“Fine,” said Amphora. “Whatever. Anyway, there was no murder, so that’s cleared up.”
“Look,” said Amanda. “I really am sorry about your detention. It wasn’t fair, but it could have been worse.”
“I suppose so,” said Amphora. “But if that Wiffle kid says one thing, or Simon . . .”
“They won’t,” said Ivy. “If they do, they’ll have me to contend with. I think Simon is getting short on money. He’ll watch himself.”
“I never thought of that,” said Amphora. “He can’t afford to insult me anymore. I like that.”
Bing! Amanda looked at her phone and discovered that she’d received a text from Editta: “Come to library.” Perhaps she’d learned something about the missing book.
Amanda, Ivy, and Amphora rushed to the library to find Editta standing there with a card in her hand. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said. She seemed fine—no sign of distress and no evidence that she’d been crying.
“What is it?” said Amphora, grabbing the card from her.
“Lemme see,” said Amanda.
Editta snatched the card back. “It’s the book,” she said. “It’s The Detective’s Bible, and guess who took it: David Wiffle!”
“No,” said the others simultaneously.
“Yes,” said Editta. “And look here. He’s even assigned a classification number so that it sits between the codes and scandals books. It was misfiled. I found it by accident. Do you believe this?”
The girls were gobsmacked. They were thrilled to finally know what the book was and who had it, but they couldn’t for the life of them figure out how any of this had happened. Wiffle? What in the world would he have been doing with the teachers’ book, and how long had he had it and not told anyone? Did this mean he was a mole?
Last term they had discovered the existence of The Detective’s Bible. In fact the target of the bomber in the class project had been just that, but not the original version. The teachers had stashed a facsimile in the garage. The kids had never dreamed that the real one wasn’t still safe wherever it was hidden.
Now that they thought about it the whole thing made sense. The answer had been hiding in plain sight. Not that they knew what was in it. They hadn’t been able to decrypt the facsimile, which had been burned almost to bits anyway. They did, however, know that the book was important. They just hadn’t realized how important.
If David Wiffle had taken the book, surely Moriarty did not have it and there was nothing to worry about. But David was bound to be in trouble. Didn’t he realize what was going on? He could have fixed everything so easily. Why hadn’t he? Something didn’t add up.
Amanda texted Simon, who joined them at once. He was so glad that they’d solved the mystery that he actually congratulated Editta on her excellent detective work. She was so surprised that she dropped the card and Simon accidentally stepped on it, leaving the tread pattern from his shoe all over it.
Now the task was to find the Wiffle kid. They split up and looked all over the school. Of course only Simon could search the boys’ dorm, but he didn’t have to. Amanda found David in the gym practicing kicks. While she was waiting for the others she watched him. He had improved since the time he’d kicked her in the nose.
He caught her watching him and said, “Go away. You’re distracting me.”
“You’ve gotten better,” she said.
For a second he forgot himself. “I have?” he said, looking down at his legs.
“Yes. Nice form.” She made a hand-leg gesture.
“You’re kidding,” he said. “What do you want? I’m not going in the basements with you.”
“I have no intention of inviting you to the basements or anywhere else,” said Amanda. She leaned back against the mirror with her arms folded.
“Good, because I’m not going,” he said. “So what do you want?”
“Ah, here they are,” she said, seeing that the others had arrived.
“Them?” he said, looking deflated. “What are they doing here?”
“We want to talk to you,” said Amanda, motioning to the others to gather round like some kind of gang leader.
“About what?” said David.
“About this,” said Editta, shoving the card in his face. Amanda couldn’t believe how she’d come to life.
“Where’d you get that?” said David.
“In the library,” said Editta. “Misfiled.”
“I didn’t misfile it,” said David. “I put it right where it belonged.” Oops. He’d given himself away. Now he couldn’t deny having made the card or filing it.
“Where’s the book?” said Ivy.
“Why do you want to know?” said David, glancing from one to the other.
“Because the teachers are going crazy thinking they’ve lost it,” screamed Amanda. “How could you not know that?”
“Well, I didn’t,” he said. “And anyway I was trying to protect it.”
“What’s in it?” said Amphora, stepping forward.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he said. “It’s in code.”
“The teachers are in a huge dither about it and you’d better produce it fast,” said Ivy.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”
“We’ll meet you in the dining room,” Ivy said.
The kids went to the dining room and poured themselves some tea. After twenty minutes had passed, during which time they’d drunk three cups each, the Wiffle kid hadn’t returned, so Simon went to see what was going on. In about five minutes he and David showed up.
“What happened?” said Amphora.
“Can’t say,” said David. “I don’t know what’s going on, but the book isn’t where I put it.” He looked terrified.
“This is not good,” said Amanda. “Look again.”
“I already did,” said David.
“Simon, go with him and make sure he checks everywhere,” said Amanda.
The two boys went back to David’s room to search some more. Ivy said, “I wonder why there aren’t any copies. Or are there? Why is it so important that the teachers have the original?”
“I don’t know,” said Editta, “but if there are copies, where would they be?”
“Good question,” said Amanda. “We’ve scoured the school and we didn’t see any.”
“They could be anywhere,” said Ivy. “Even hidden inside other book covers.”
“Good point,” said Amanda. “They’re probably around. But apparently the original is the one that counts.”
“Weird, though,” said Ivy. “If Moriarty got a copy, wouldn’t it be the same? He’d still have the content, whatever it is.”
“How creepy,” said Amphora. “You don’t su
ppose—”
Ivy did one of her lifting up her sunglasses things and Amphora stopped, but Amanda knew what she was going to say. She was going to say that Nick might have taken it and the Moriartys still might have it.
David and Simon still weren’t able to find the missing book, but David thought he knew of some other places it might be and went off to search them. He seemed to realize how important it was that he produce it, so Simon let him be. No way would a rule-bound kid like that try to get away with something.
Meanwhile, Editta and Amphora left and Amanda and Simon turned the subject back to the crystals.
“He’s got ‘em,” said Amanda. “He’s probably torturing them right now. As soon as he strikes them or tries to fill them with too much light they’ll turn red and die. He won’t care.”
“He’s an awful man,” said Ivy. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I know how you feel about Nick but—”
“I don’t feel that way about Nick anymore,” said Amanda. Simon and Amphora looked at each other. “What?” said Amanda. “You know I don’t. Ivy!”
“Of course you don’t,” said Ivy. She didn’t sound like she meant it. “Say, do you think the crystals have DNA? They are alive. They’d have to, wouldn’t they?”
Amanda and Simon looked at each other. “OMG!” said Amanda. Simon rushed to Ivy and gave her a huge smackeroo right on the lips. Editta and Amphora gaped, but Ivy just smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said.
Amanda and Simon dashed to the lab, colliding with students and teachers on the way and causing a lot of yelling and cursing. “Call Clive,” yelled Amanda. Ivy and Nigel followed at a slower pace. When they got to the lab, Clive was already there and everyone made a beeline for the dead crystal. They laid it out on the workbench and looked at each other. What were they supposed to do now?
“How do you tell if the crystals have DNA?” said Amanda.
“You’re thinking the same thing I am,” said Simon.
“Of course,” she said. “Maybe the crystals that formed on the dead body absorbed the victim’s DNA.”
“Bingo!” said Simon. “Boy, I wish Professor Kindseth were here. You know, he still isn’t doing that well.”
“I know,” said Amanda. “Have you heard anything today?”
“Uh uh,” he said. “Anyone?”
“No,” said Ivy. “Not a word.”
“Me either,” said Clive.
“Hang on,” said Amanda. “How about that guide the school made for doing laboratory tests? Let’s look it up.”
“Good idea,” said Simon. “Of course, it’s one thing to take cells from something liquid or soft, like tissue or bodily fluids, but the crystals are hard. How could we get samples from them? They don’t have jelly centers, do they?”
“Ha ha,” said Ivy. “From the sugar?”
“Why not?” said Simon. “They’re already so weird anything could happen.”
“Yeah, they really are strange,” said Amanda. “But cute.”
Simon grabbed the school’s guide and turned to the table of contents. “I’m pretty sure if we can extract the DNA we can sequence it using these recipes, but I’m not sure how to do that.”
“What does the book say?” said Amanda.
“It’s pretty involved,” said Simon. “Whoa. This is difficult stuff. There’s no way we’re going to be able to do this alone.”
“What are we going to do then?” she said.
“I hate to say it, but we’re going to have to go to Professor Stegelmeyer.”
“Do we have to?”
“If we want to get this done we do. It’s either that or forget it.”
“Nuts,” she said. “Oh, all right. Let’s go.”
They marched to Professor Stegelmeyer’s office. Fortunately or unfortunately he was in, writing furiously on his computer. Amanda wondered if he might be working on one of his awful novels. Surely not with all these crises going on. He looked up and said gruffly, “What is it?”
“Sir, we need to extract some DNA and compare it against known sources,” Simon said.
“You do?” said the crime lab teacher. “Why?”
“Here’s the thing,” said Amanda, and together she and Simon told him the whole story. Well, not the whole story. They certainly didn’t tell him they’d been to London.
Professor Stegelmeyer laughed. Amanda had never seen him do that. He had nice teeth. “You’ve been most enterprising. Very impressive. You did all this alone, did you?”
“Yes, sir,” they said together.
“Let’s take a look then,” he said. Amanda, Simon, and Clive looked at each other as if to say, “What’s going on?” “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get cracking.”
When they got to the lab, the teacher looked at the ultrasound machine and the guide and said, “Interesting. Sonication. We won’t do it that way.”
“We won’t?” said Simon. He sounded disappointed.
“Not today. I’ll show you how to do that another time. Now let me show you how I usually do it.”
He whizzed around the lab, setting up equipment, sticking the crystal with various devices, and making slides, and within a short time they had two different DNA fingerprints. They were all in agreement that one was from the crystal and the other from the body. Now they needed something to compare them with.
Professor Stegelmeyer started up the lab computer. He told them that they would first check the school’s database, which included students, faculty, administration, and alumni. Amanda wondered if Nick’s DNA was in the database. Simon must have been clairvoyant, or at least seen something in her face, because he looked at her and shook his head no. Checking to see whether Professor Stegelmeyer was looking and concluding that he wasn’t, she made a face.
The first search was unsuccessful, but the second one brought up a match. Professor Stegelmeyer stared at the screen for a long time, buried his head in his hands, and said, “Oh no.” Amanda and Simon looked at him quizzically. He turned the computer toward them so they could see.
All three kids saw it at the same time. The computer had found a match. The body was David Wiffle’s father.
30
In Pursuit of a Culprit
Amanda wished they hadn’t identified the corpse. It would have been better to let the mystery stand forever than to know what she, Simon, Clive, and Professor Stegelmeyer now knew—that the murdered man was the Wiffle kid’s father. She didn’t like David, but he didn’t deserve to lose his father, especially in such a horrible way.
Professor Stegelmeyer said that they must tell Thrillkill immediately. He didn’t want to give him the news via text or phone, so he simply sent “Must see you” and ran off to the headmaster’s office. As he departed he told the kids not to say a word to anyone, especially not David. He and Thrillkill would notify the boy.
When the teacher had gone, Amanda turned to the boys and said, “We need to figure out who the murderer is.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said Simon. “Do you think—” Bing! All three of them had received texts. Thrillkill wanted to see them.
“He can’t be mad, can he?” said Amanda.
“Don’t see why,” said Simon.
When they arrived at Thrillkill’s office, the headmaster, Professor Stegelmeyer, and Professor Also were hunched around Thrillkill’s desk, talking low. As soon as they saw Amanda, Simon, and Clive, Thrillkill looked up, pointed to the corner, and said, “Please pull up a chair.” Looking at each other as if to say “Now what?” the kids each grabbed one of the cracked green leather chairs Thrillkill kept for guests and scrunched in between the teachers.
“First of all, I want to thank you for your excellent work in identifying the body,” said Thrillkill. Amanda exhaled. He wasn’t going to yell. “I am going to notify David Wiffle in a moment, but first I would like your help.” Their help? That wasn’t what Amanda had been expecting. “We would like to conduct a brainstorming session. Who murdered Wink Wiffle and how did it happen?”
“Of course, Miss Lester,” said Thrillkill. “Why not?”
“Well, uh, I mean, I just thought the teachers would want to investigate,” said Amanda.
“We will,” said Thrillkill. “But seeing that you three identified the body, we want you to keep going.” They hadn’t exactly identified the body. Without Ivy they’d never have thought to look for DNA, and without Professor Stegelmeyer they’d still be messing around in the lab, but if he wanted to give them some of the credit, Amanda wouldn’t object. “We’ll include the rest of the students, of course, but I’d like to keep this quiet for the nonce. Obviously it won’t stay that way for long, but let’s see if you can make a good start.”
“Yes, sir,” said all three kids.
“Now,” said Thrillkill, “I would like you to stay here with Professor Also and Professor Stegelmeyer and see what you can come up with. I am going to talk to Mr. Wiffle.”
He pushed back with a grunt, sending his chair rolling into the bookcase behind him, then hoisted himself onto his crutches, made his way through the door, and closed it behind him.
Without a word of sympathy or foreword of any kind, Professor Also said, “Let’s see what you three can do. We’re not going to prompt you.”
Amanda gulped. She thought it was weird that the teacher didn’t at least say, “How awful” or “Poor David Wiffle,” but then the teachers were pretty tough. They saw worse than this all the time. She liked Professor Also but she hoped she’d never be so heartless.
What should she say? She looked at Simon. He seemed to be concentrating so hard, rolling his eyes back and forth in time to the wheels in his head, that she couldn’t tell if he was stumped or had already solved the crime. Clive was staring at the headmaster’s desk.
She tried to slow her breathing. Start with what you know.
I know that Wiffle’s father is dead.
Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 64