“Fern,” said Ivy. “I’m not sure if she got them for Professor Snool’s class or what.”
“But he teaches the weapons class,” said Amanda. She hadn’t taken it yet. You had to be a second-year student.
“Yes. Picks aren’t exactly weapons. Kind of anti-weapons, I guess. Anyway, you try.”
“What am I supposed to do?” said Amanda.
“You want to move the pins. They should be all lined up so there’s no obstruction. You can hear when they get into the right position.”
Amanda took the pick from Ivy and stuck it into the lock, then moved it around. “I can feel something,” she said, “but I can’t hear a thing.”
Ivy moved her head close to the lock. “I can hear it,” she said. “There, no, oops, no, back, no, almost, no, oh dear.”
“Ivy, I can’t hear one thing except your voice,” said Amanda. She pulled the pick out of the lock.
“Hm,” said Ivy. “Maybe I can hear things you can’t.”
“Ya think? No wonder you can open these locks so easily.”
“Are we saying that the thief has exceptional hearing?”
“They must,” said Amanda. “Except I don’t see how they could have gotten into so many drawers in so little time.”
“I don’t either,” said Ivy. “Something doesn’t add up.”
“I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t smell anything here.”
“Me either. And Nigel has stopped sneezing.”
“Great,” said Amanda. “A picky thief who opens certain drawers and not others. Ivy, you don’t think they know what’s inside and are targeting only the ones they want?”
“I don’t see how,” said Ivy. “The only way that would be possible would be if they had the metadata or if it was one of the teachers.”
“One of the teachers steal the secrets?” said Amanda. The idea was unthinkable. Unless, of course, one of them was a mole. “Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” said Ivy. “The teachers are divided into factions now. Maybe this is their way of fighting.”
Amanda didn’t like that suggestion at all. If the teachers were so far gone that they were resorting to dirty tricks, her film would never convince them to stay together.
“That’s terrible. They’re destroying everything Legatum has. First the Bible—”
“Which had nothing to do with the teachers,” said Ivy.
“As far as we know,” said Amanda.
“What are you saying? That David was in cahoots with one of the factions and that’s why he destroyed it?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to think outside the box. OMG, Ivy, do you really think David did this?”
“You mean he’s flipped and gone bad? Or are you saying that he was always in cahoots with someone and all that goody-goody stuff was just an act?”
“I don’t know. The whole thing is crazy.”
“What’s crazy?” said a voice.
Amanda whirled around. It was Professor Kindseth. He was standing on his own two feet, no longer using the crutches he’d had to rely on since his injury in the earthquake. Although he was ostensibly one of the neutral teachers, she didn’t want to tell him of her suspicions. As great a guy as he was, you never knew who you could trust at Legatum.
“Hello, Professor,” she said.
“Amanda, Ivy,” said Professor Kindseth. “What a mess, eh?”
“I’ll say,” said Ivy. “I just don’t see how they could have picked all these locks so quickly.”
Professor Kindseth surveyed the situation and shook his head. “Well, now that the cat is out of the bag let me show you something. We have to go back past the Porch, the Cottage, and the Bodlean. Er, not in that order.”
The girls and Nigel followed Professor Kindseth back the way they’d come. As soon as they got close to Anne Hathaway’s Cottage, Nigel started to sneeze.
“It’s that smell again,” said Ivy.
“Yes,” said Professor Kindseth. “It would be.”
“I don’t understand,” said Amanda.
Professor Kindseth pointed to the mechanisms on the compartments. “The newer section of the trove works differently from the older one. In this area, the locks are controlled by odors.”
Odor-controlled locks! Then why did the drawers have keyholes? Amanda couldn’t process what she had just heard. She looked at the locks again. They seemed just the same as the one Ivy had just opened.
“Are you saying that the thief got into the compartments by releasing a scent?” said Ivy.
“It does look that way,” said Professor Kindseth.
“I can smell it,” she said. “So can Nigel. He’s allergic to it.”
“Isn’t it extremely difficult to duplicate a scent exactly?” said Amanda, her brain beginning to function properly again.
“Monumentally,” said the teacher. “Which is why we never expected anything like this. The chances of someone duplicating the formula are infinitesimal.”
Amanda thought for a moment. Suddenly something clicked. “Not if you have access to the world’s most powerful hacker.”
“Ooooh, good point,” said Ivy.
“You think whoever hacked Professor Redleaf’s computer did this?” said the teacher.
“I do,” said Amanda. “The same guy—or girl—who’s making those crazy rainbows.”
Professor Kindseth stroked his chin for a moment. “You can’t hack the trove electronically,” he said. “There’s no computing equipment in here. I’m not sure the formula is even stored in digital form.” He lowered his voice. “To tell you the truth, I think it’s in one of these compartments. In code.”
It would be, wouldn’t it, thought Amanda. The formula for the scent that opened the locks had to be one of the teachers’ most important secrets. The trove was the logical place for it.
“So you’d have to know the code to break in and get the code,” said Ivy.
“Something like that,” said Professor Kindseth.
“That doesn’t make sense,” said Amanda.
“Professor,” said Ivy, “does this mean that only the areas with odor-controlled locks were breached?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s possible. If you permeated the area with the right smell, you could open them all at once. But in the older parts, you’d need to pick each lock separately. Or have the keys.”
“Why are there keyholes if there aren’t any keys?” said Amanda.
“To fool people,” said Professor Kindseth. “There are teachers who don’t even know that.”
“So why are you telling us?” said Amanda.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” he said.
26
A Third Way
The idea that you could open all the locks in a large area of the trove at one fell swoop seemed crazy. Not for the first time Amanda wondered what the teachers were thinking. Were they so cocky that they thought nothing could ever happen? If they had been before, they certainly weren’t anymore. The Moriartys had planted moles in their midst, conducted illegal operations under their noses, hacked them (maybe), and foiled one of their most critical security measures. Maybe whatever was in the Bible wasn’t worth going after at all. It seemed that the teachers’ tricks were out of date. Of course she’d never say that to them.
But Ivy would. “Professor Kindseth, why would the school use the same combination for all the locks?”
“Ever heard of OpenID?” he said.
“The open source authentication system that lets you use one password to enter lots of sites,” said Amanda. She’d been learning a lot about computing from Holmes.
“Indeed,” he said. “We thought the odor would be like that, especially since we designed it to be absolutely unique.”
“You designed it yourselves?” said Ivy.
“Actually, Professor Pargeter and Professor Stegelmeyer came up with it together,” he said. “As you know, they’re our best chemists.”
It would p
robably be a good idea to keep Amphora from finding out about that. Professor Pargeter was a toxicologist. Amphora would think the scent was poisonous.
“But the thief can’t use the secrets, can he?” said Amanda. The secrets were in code. You’d have to be able to break it to read them.
“All right,” said Professor Kindseth. “You didn’t hear this from me.” The girls nodded. “You can’t make sense of any of this without the metadata,” he whispered.
“That’s what we thought,” said Amanda. Ever since the kids had found out about the trove, they’d suspected there had to be something that made sense of all those snippets—an index, maybe. Of course what it was and where it was located they had no idea.
“I suppose you don’t have to be a genius to figure that out,” said Professor Kindseth.
“They didn’t get the metadata too?” said Ivy.
“Nope,” said Professor Kindseth. “Thank goodness. And don’t ask me where it is. I don’t know and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”
“I’ll bet it’s in that cave in Scotland,” said Ivy, voicing exactly what Amanda was thinking.
“What, Thrillkill’s cave?” said Professor Kindseth. “I doubt it.”
“Why?” said Amanda.
“Not secure and too obvious,” said the teacher.
“Good point,” said Ivy. “So what now?”
“I don’t know,” said Professor Kindseth, “but I suspect whatever we do will be drastic. We’ll have to secure the trove first, of course.”
Drastic. What did that mean? The teachers might do anything, from destroying the trove to moving it lock, stock, and barrel. And then what?
“You do know how they got in, don’t you?” said Ivy.
“No, not yet.”
“We do,” she said. “You should speak to Clive Ng.”
“Clive Ng helped them break in?” said Professor Kindseth. He looked stung.
“Of course not,” said Amanda. There was no way that Clive would ever work for the Moriartys. What you saw with him was what you got. If he ever went rogue, she’d hang up her magnifying glass. It would mean she didn’t have the judgment to be a detective. Of course it was possible she didn’t. She’d believed in Nick and look how he’d turned out. “It’s just that—you need to talk to him as soon as possible.”
“I’m afraid to even ask this,” said Ivy. “If the thief were able to read the secrets, what would happen to us?”
“That’s a valid question,” said Professor Kindseth. “It depends who you ask. The Realists would have additional ammunition for their argument that we should close the school and go on to other things. The Punitori would vow to find the Bible and the secrets. At least that would put us and whoever took them on a level playing field.”
“What do you think?” said Ivy.
“Me? I don’t like either option,” said the teacher. “I guess I’d have to hope that there’s a third way. I’m just not sure what it would be.”
When the girls had returned to the common room, Amanda elbowed Ivy and said, “Did you hear what Professor Kindseth said? He thinks there’s a third way.”
“For the teachers?” said Ivy.
“Yes,” said Amanda. “Do you realize what this means?”
“It sounds sensible,” said Ivy, tousling Nigel’s fur. “Perhaps Professor Kindseth and the other neutral teachers can convince the others.”
“Maybe,” said Amanda. “But it’s also an opportunity for us. We can come up with that third way and save the school. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” said Ivy. “How can I help?”
Amanda grinned like the Cheshire cat. She was feeling especially chuffed. “How would you like to compose some music for the film Scapulus and I are making?”
After the teachers had conducted an initial survey of the damage to the trove, Headmaster Thrillkill announced that they were going to recreate the secrets as soon as possible. This news elicited outbursts from the Realists, who said it was too late and the trove should be destroyed, while the Punitori claimed that they should be put in charge and Thrillkill should step aside. They and only they could remedy the situation. Although everyone knew their stated objective—to recover the Bible and resume operations—no one outside their group seemed to know how they planned to accomplish it.
Amanda was beginning to think that all the teachers were wrong. All except Professor Kindseth, that is. There was a third way and she was going to find it. She’d present it in cinematic form and revel in being called a genius.
Of course to get Holmes to go along with her ideas would take some doing. She couldn’t in good conscience try to be his girlfriend again just to influence him. That would be immoral as well as hurtful. It would also probably backfire. She would have to confide in him, though, because he was her partner in the endeavor, although maybe she could do it in such a subtle way that he wouldn’t realize she was pulling the strings.
As if. Scapulus Holmes might not have been so good at relationships, but he was awfully smart. Truth be told, he was the smartest person she’d ever known—even smarter than Professor Ducey or Professor Sidebotham or Simon. He’d see right through her. No, the only way to proceed was to tell him the truth. Of course she’d have to come up with the answer first.
How could she bring together people with opposing views? Perhaps she should start by profiling the groups. Actors always ask, “What’s my motivation?” so they can understand where their characters are coming from. Amanda had approached many non-cinematic problems the same way. So why did one group want to give up and the other fight?
When she looked at the lists of which teachers belonged to which group, she could see that the names were predictable. Professor Buck absolutely had to be a Punitor and Professor McTavish a Realist. Why? Professor Buck, the profiling teacher, was a pretty feisty guy. Professor McTavish, who taught police procedure, tended to be systematic and rule-bound, almost like David Wiffle, but nicer and more competent. Was it true that the Punitori were like soldiers and the Realists peaceniks? From her experience in Professor Sidebotham’s classes, Amanda doubted that the observation teacher was a dove even though she was a Realist. The woman was like a steel girder, she was so tough. And Professor Ducey, a Punitor, was so nice and easygoing. No, that couldn’t be it.
If the differences didn’t have to do with the teachers’ proclivities toward war and peace, what else could they be attributed to? She looked at her list of groups again. Maybe she’d see something she’d overlooked.
Realists. They believe the Bible is the undying symbol of Legatum and they can’t go on without it. The members are:
Browning. Sketching.
Mukherjee. Legal issues.
Hoxby. Dead bodies.
McTavish. Police procedure.
Pickle (still in prison). Textual analysis.
Pole. Fires and explosions.
Scribbish. Evidence.
Sidebotham. Observation.
Punitori. They believe in finding the thieves, recovering the Bible, and resuming operations. The members are:
Also. History of detectives.
Feeney. Criminals and their methods.
Snool. Weapons.
Pargeter. Toxicology.
Buck. Profiling.
Stegelmeyer. Crime lab.
Ducey. Logic.
Peaksribbon. Self-defense.
Neutrals. They refuse to take sides.
Thrillkill. Headmaster.
Snaffle. Secrets.
Kindseth. Photography.
Tumble. Disguise.
She examined the list of Realists. These were the people who wanted to throw up their hands—or did they? If they were advocating ending the school, what was next for them? Perhaps Professor Sidebotham would retire. She was certainly old enough. Professor Pickle was still in jail, but he’d be out soon. Of course he could concentrate on his pickle business full time if he wanted to. But the others were in the primes of their careers. What would th
ey do?
As far as the Punitori were concerned, they refused to give up on the idea of Legatum. They clung to the school fiercely and would keep it going no matter what. It was an admirable stand except for one thing: what would happen if they never got the Bible back? What would they do then? If they felt the Bible was necessary to the school, they believed the same thing the Realists did: that the Bible was essential and there was no Legatum without it. They just used that conclusion in different ways.
She’d been looking at the list all wrong. The Realists, who were willing to cut their losses and move on, were the resilient ones. They’d take whatever came and make it work. But for all their militancy, the Punitori were more fragile. They assumed they’d get their way. They had no backup plan. They simply refused to consider that they might need one.
Wow. The thought of Professor Buck being fragile was mind-boggling. Something must be going on underneath the facades of the teachers who subscribed to the Punitori philosophies. Was it possible that they were tough on the outside but their insides were made of jelly? Amanda couldn’t believe it. Professors Feeney, Snool, Pargeter, and Buck were downright scary. They had to be as indestructible as gravity.
Truth be told, the Punitori needed the other teachers. Even though it looked as though they were the leaders, they would be at sea without Professors Mukherjee, Browning, and Thrillkill. The problem was that no one seemed to realize it. No one except her, that is.
She knew what she had to do. Now she just had to come up with a way to do it.
The next morning at breakfast Clive announced that the acoustic levitator had magically reappeared in his closet. “It’s not damaged or anything,” he said.
“When did you find it?” said Simon, buttering his toast. It looked like he was going to use an entire stick of the stuff.
Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 93