Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set

by Paula Berinstein

  Holmes looked like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or fume on Amanda’s behalf. Finally he seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valor and said, “Well, that’s that then.” Amanda kicked him and he stifled an oof.

  “A hotel?” said Darktower. “Really?”

  “I couldn’t very well ask him to come here, could I?” she said.

  A lightbulb seemed to go on over Darktower’s head. “Mm, hm, uh, well, no. I suppose not.” The man just could not give out a compliment. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he said. “Shoo.”

  Amanda and Holmes got up from their chairs and were about to leave when Darktower said, “What do I ask him?”

  “Excuse me, sir?” said Holmes.

  “This Nosegoose fellow,” said Darktower. “How do I know if he’s any good?”

  “You could ask him to read,” said Amanda.

  “The script, you mean?” said Darktower. “Out loud?”

  “An audition,” said Amanda.

  “Oh, right,” said Darktower. “Then you need to be there.”

  “Me, sir?” said Amanda.

  “Yes, you,” said Darktower. “You don’t think Mr. Holmes here knows anything about acting, do you?” Amanda looked at Holmes. She didn’t know why she felt outraged on his behalf. He seemed perfectly placid. “Be at my office at half three.”

  As if she had nothing else to do. But what could she say? He’d just argue.

  “See you later then,” she said.

  Darktower didn’t even look at them as they left his office.

  19

  Casting Couch

  Amanda decided she couldn’t stay mad at Holmes. He was actually right about some things. She had kept him at arm’s length, and she had toyed with him. Not on purpose, but the result was the same. She didn’t blame him for being upset.

  The stuff about Nick, though, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t been her boyfriend. He’d been a friend—well, a sort of best friend—but there had been nothing romantic between them. Yes, he was amazing, and yes, she’d cared about him a lot, but it was true that he’d never kissed her, nor had he held her hand, nor had there ever been a word of love between them. So how could Holmes, and Simon even, and everyone else, now that she thought about it, think they’d been together? The idea was preposterous.

  But it wasn’t a good reason to feud with the boy she did love. She needed to set things right. Except that there was that one sticking point: Amphora.

  Despite having argued with herself on numerous occasions, Amanda simply did not feel comfortable being the cause of someone else’s breakup. It was her fault that Amphora and Holmes had got together in the first place—she’d driven him into her roommate’s arms—and she had no right to flip-flop. If she had stayed with Holmes instead of wavering about Nick, everything would have been different, but she hadn’t, and it wasn’t her place to rewrite history.

  If she did, for some reason, decide to be with Holmes after his breakup, then she really couldn’t leave him again, probably not ever. And if she went to him and said she wanted to be friends, he’d have a fit and tell her he couldn’t. So her position was more delicate than ever, and she felt even more paralyzed, if that was possible.

  Just when she thought she’d explode, however, Holmes came to her and asked her to come to the chapel with him. The chapel! Was he intending to murder her by leaning too hard on an unstable column? Why would he suggest such a thing?

  She opened her mouth to refuse when he said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  She’d never expected that. She just stood there gaping.

  “Please, just five minutes,” he said. “For me.”

  He’d never asked her to do him a favor before. She owed him so much. How could she say no?

  When they got to the chapel, Holmes took her hand and said, “I truly am sorry. I was out of line. Forgive me?”

  She melted. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she said softly. “It’s all my fault. I’ve been terrible to you.”

  “You haven’t,” he said. “You’ve just been confused. But I can see that you’re not anymore. I don’t know why I keep acting like you are.”

  “Scapulus,” she said, “I do want to be with you. I’m just having trouble. I don’t want to see myself as a bad person.”

  “You’re not a bad person,” he said, fingering her hair. “It’s just circumstance.”

  “Even so, we’re in this situation and there’s no elegant way out of it.”

  “Tell you what, then,” he said. “Let’s just give it some time. It will sort itself out. Everything will turn out for the best. How does that sound?”

  Amanda was skeptical, but when she looked into his eyes she couldn’t refuse him.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s just see what happens.”

  At half three in the afternoon (three-thirty to Americans), Amanda met Ancillary Darktower at his office, and at ten minutes to four they were waiting in the lobby of the Tippytop Hotel in Windermere.

  At five to four, in walked Ardent Nosegood, a small, fortyish man of nondescript appearance except for a pair of enormous black-rimmed glasses. Darktower must have been pleased because he got up and shook the man’s hand before he’d even got through the door.

  “Mr. Nosegood?” he said enthusiastically. “You’ll do. By golly, you will.”

  “Mr. Darktower,” said the little man. “A pleasure, I’m sure. Now, where should we set up?”

  “Set up?” said Darktower.

  “My dressing room,” said Nosegood.

  Darktower looked helplessly at Amanda. “What’s he talking about?”

  “I’ll need to change costumes,” said Nosegood. “Where is it?”

  “This isn’t the bloody production,” thundered Darktower. “You’re just supposed to read the thing.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Nosegood. “But I’ll need a costume change in the middle.”

  “Mr. Nosegood,” interjected Amanda. “I don’t think that will be necessary in this case.”

  “Who are you?” he said. “I wasn’t aware there were children in this production.”

  “Never mind about her,” said Darktower. “Here. Read this.”

  He shoved a script into the actor’s hand. Nosegood glanced at it and then back and Darktower.

  “This is completely inadequate,” he said.

  “What do you mean ‘inadequate’?” roared the teacher.

  “It’s hand-written. I can’t make out what it says.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my printing,” said Darktower. “Read.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Nosegood. “I can’t. Either you’ll provide a legible script or I’ll have to decline the role.”

  Amanda could almost see smoke coming out of Darktower’s ears. “Then you’ll decline it,” he said. “Good day.”

  He grabbed the paper out of the little man’s hand and walked out of the lobby. Nosegood humphed and said, “Heathen,” then turned and followed the teacher out.

  Amanda sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  After dinner that evening, Holmes pulled Amanda aside and said, “I’ve fixed it.”

  “Fixed what?”

  “Darktower. I’ve got him under control.”

  She’d never known Holmes to be delusional, but this kind of thinking could be a start. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I’ve convinced him that he needs to tell a story with his film.”

  She crossed her arms and looked him up and down. “Oh you have, have you?”

  “Now don’t tease me,” he said, trying to look serious. “It is true that I’ve learned a few of your tricks. I’ve just been a bit slow about it. And please don’t gloat.”

  “I’ll gloat if I want to,” she said, grinning. “How often do I get to do that?”

  “Just about every day,” he said. He looked like he was about to touch her but he caught himself. The hall was too public a place. It didn’t keep h
im from making eyes at her though. She wished he’d stop.

  “I do not.”

  “No, you don’t. Only every other day.”

  “Very funny. Now what’s this about convincing Darktower?”

  He turned serious. “Don’t get upset.”

  “Uh oh. What did you do?”

  “I sort of, uh, suggested that he make some videos using my ancestor.”

  “You what?” Amanda didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up. She still wasn’t all that fond of Sherlock.

  “Hang on,” he said, pulling her close to the wall and lowering his voice. “Hear me out.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Boy you’re cute when you’re mad.”

  “Ssh. Someone will hear you.”

  “I don’t care. Anyway, here’s my idea. There are billions of Sherlock Holmes movies and TV shows, but none of them have been made by Darius Plover!”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. Actually, it was quite a good idea. There was just one problem.

  “I love it, Scapulus, but Darius is still missing.” He hadn’t phoned or texted or anything and she didn’t know what to think.

  “Really?” He seemed surprised. “Maybe this is serious after all.”

  “I haven’t heard a peep from him. To be honest, I’m starting to get worried.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’m feeling a bit uneasy myself.”

  “I don’t know what else to do,” she said. “I’ve tried contacting him directly and I’ve been in touch with his office. They haven’t heard from him either.”

  “Is this normal for him?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to bug them.”

  “Well since there isn’t anything we can do, I guess we just have to wait. In the meantime, though, how would you like to direct the Sherlock videos?”

  It was not an appealing idea on multiple counts. “Oh, Scapulus, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “So do I. But think of Ivy.”

  “I know, but—wait a second.” It was brilliant. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? “I have a better idea.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “You direct the Sherlock videos.”

  When Holmes heard Amanda’s suggestion that he direct Darktower’s Sherlock Holmes propaganda videos, he burst into guffaws.

  “The great Amanda Lester is telling me that I should direct instead of her?” he giggled. “Let me feel your forehead.”

  “I’m not sick,” said Amanda. “I’m deadly serious.”

  “Oooh, deadly. This does sound serious.” He was getting an immense amount of pleasure out of teasing her. She felt it her duty to protest, but she liked seeing him this way. He could get way too serious.

  “Would you just listen for a minute?”

  “Okay. I need to learn to deal with raving lunatics.”

  “Scapulus! Shut up and listen to me. You can do this.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know the first thing about directing, Amanda.”

  She lowered her head and looked up at him from below. “Yes you do! You’ve seen me do it often enough. You can save this ridiculous project.”

  He chuckled. “It is ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is. But it won’t be once you get your hands on it.”

  “I’d like to get my hands on you.”

  “I give up. If you won’t be serious I can’t talk to you.”

  “I seriously want to get my hands on you.”

  She faced him and clamped her lips together. “Scapulus Holmes, I am no longer speaking to you. See? The words are stuck inside my mouth. They can’t even get out because I’ve locked my lips and thrown away the key.”

  “I know how to pick locks,” he said. She mock glared at him. “All right. I’m sorry. I won’t interrupt anymore.”

  “Good. Now as I was saying, you do know enough to do this. You could turn these silly videos into gripping stories that really get through to people.”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Can you imagine the great-great-grandson of Sherlock Holmes directing movies about his ancestor? Who could resist that?”

  “Nice idea, but I can’t use my name on this.”

  “Oh, right. The secrecy thing. But still, you would feel the character. You know how to tell a story now, and you can use it to show people the value of logic. I think you should do this.”

  “Do what?” said Amphora, who was coming around the corner. “Oh, there you are, Scapulus,” she said, moving close and linking her arm through his.

  “Nothing,” said Holmes. “Amanda thinks I should direct some Sherlock Holmes videos for Darktower.”

  “You should,” said Amphora. “In fact, you’re the only one who can.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Holmes.

  “Of course you are. Look at you. You’re the smartest person at the school, the best at everything except for costume design, which I’ll do, and you’re related to Sherlock Holmes. You have to.”

  Amanda snorted under her breath. The best at everything except costume design indeed. As if no one but the two of them existed. Fortunately she didn’t care what Amphora thought.

  “I’m hardly the best at everything,” said Holmes.

  “Oh, but you are,” Amphora simpered, giving Amanda a smug look. “So it’s settled then. You will be the director and I’ll get design credits. When do we start?”

  “Of course you’re wonderful with clothes, Amphora,” said Holmes, “but, um, er, this will be an animated film.”

  “Animated? You’re joking.”

  Now he’d put his foot in it, thought Amanda. No one had said anything about animation. It was obvious that Holmes didn’t want Amphora on the project and he’d come up with the first excuse that had popped into his mind.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Holmes.

  “That’s nonsense,” said Amphora. “Professor Darktower won’t like that at all.”

  Amanda wanted to ask her how she would know such a thing, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “He’s already approved it,” Holmes lied.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” said Amphora.

  “Well, he did,” said Holmes. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “I’ll speak to him,” said Amphora.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Holmes.

  “Why not?” said Amphora.

  “Because, uh, he’s already raised the money from an alumna, and she’s insisted on animation.”

  Amanda winced. She didn’t like seeing Holmes dig himself in deeper like that.

  “Scapulus Holmes, you’re lying to me,” shouted Amphora. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Tell me the name of the alumna,” she said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “She wishes to remain anonymous.”

  “I’ve never heard such rubbish in my life. You’re just trying to keep me off this project so she can do it.” She head motioned toward Amanda.

  “Don’t be paranoid,” he said harshly.

  “I’m not being paranoid. You want her. I know it. You’ve always wanted her.”

  Amanda couldn’t stand it. “He doesn’t.” Holmes gave her a sharp look.

  “Now you’re lying to me too?” said Amphora.

  “He doesn’t want me,” said Amanda. She absolutely could not stand the pressure of the situation and was feeling desperate. “He knows I love Nick.”

  Holmes just about dropped his tablet.

  “Oh, well, everyone knows that,” said Amphora. “So what? That doesn’t stop him from wanting you.”

  “Cut it out, Amphora,” said Holmes. “You’ve got everything all wrong, and you won’t let it go because you want things to blow up. Why can’t you just be happy?”

  “Why don’t you love me?” said Amphora, and walked away.

  20

  The
History Machine

  For once Simon was being less annoying than other people. After the debacle with Darktower and Amphora’s snit, Amanda thought it would be a good idea to check in with him and see how things were going with his history machine.

  As chance would have it, he was just about to leave for Penrith to take readings. Fortunately the dig had been sealed off to keep the eager public out, so there was little worry of contamination and he was optimistic.

  “Hey,” he said when he saw Amanda enter the common room. “Wanna see me make history?”

  “Good pun,” she said. “I’m in.”

  “Great. Professor Halpin is picking us up in five minutes. Hey, Clive, you almost missed us.”

  Clive blew into the room so fast you almost couldn’t see him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Professor Goodgrief was bending my ear. I couldn’t get away. On and on about criminals and their shoes. Do you understand anything she says?”

  “Yeah, I do,” said Simon. “It’s just all rubbish.”

  “She’s nuts,” said Amanda. “I wish we could get Professor Buck to come back. Boy, I never thought I’d say that.”

  “Buck is cool,” said Simon.

  “He’s mean,” said Amanda.

  “Bah,” said Simon. “You think if someone isn’t all ‘Good morning, Amanda’ they’re mean. He’s just focused.”

  “Bah, yourself,” said Amanda. “I do not, and yes he is.”

  “If Ivy were here she’d fine you,” said Clive.

  “You know,” said Simon. “It used to really bug me when she did that, but I don’t mind so much anymore.”

  Amanda could scarcely believe her ears. Simon had lost a lot of money to Ivy’s fines. “I don’t see how you can say that,” she said. “You always complain so much.”

  “Ivy’s fair,” he said. “I respect that.”

  Amanda wondered again what Ivy had said to Simon to effect such a reconciliation. No, not just a reconciliation. A personality change. “Does this mean you’re going to stop insulting Amphora?”