by Laura Wood
Kip paused. “I’m saying that the runaway van was headed straight for you, Poppy…”
“You mean the person that’s watching might be watching because…” Ingrid trailed off, wide-eyed.
“Someone’s trying to hurt me,” I finished in a whisper.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day might have been the official first day of term, but it was also the first day of our investigation. We decided to wait until the driver of the van reappeared, and then question him about the near-accident. In the meantime we were going to hit the library again and see if we could find out anything more about Tooraloora’s Umberjigs.
As the delivery driver had just been with all the clean laundry we figured that it would be several days before another delivery was due, so imagine my shock when Ingrid and I descended to the ground floor of the girls’ dorm building the next morning to find a red-faced woman unloading big piles of bed sheets from a blue van.
“Hello!” I exclaimed in surprise.
“All right?” the woman said, focused on balancing the large pile of bedding and delivering it to the big cupboard at the bottom of the stairs.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, realizing too late that I sounded very rude.
The woman dropped her bundle of sheets and glared at me. “What does it look like?” she said. “I’m hardly being mysterious about it.” With a roll of her eyes she returned to the back of the van. Ingrid and I dashed forward.
“Let us help,” Ingrid said with a winning smile.
The woman shrugged. “If you like.”
I picked up a huge pile of slightly warm pillowcases that smelled lovely and clean. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled from behind the linen. “I was just surprised to see you so soon.”
“So soon?” the woman echoed, taking some of the pile away from me as I began to sway precariously.
“Yes,” Ingrid said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “We just ran into the man delivering laundry yesterday, and thought…”
The woman froze. “What man?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Oh,” I stuttered, surprised. “There – there was a man in a white van here delivering laundry.”
The woman let out a howl and Ingrid caught my eye with a worried look. We both backed away.
“I’ve been delivering the laundry here for almost twenty years,” the woman cried, her eyes blazing. “Are you telling me that they’ve had some new company involved?” I held my hands out helplessly in front of me, but the woman kept on shouting. “I can’t believe this. Doesn’t loyalty count for anything these days?!”
At that moment the PE teacher Miss Reed appeared, her bouncy brown ponytail bobbing on top of her head.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
“These two,” the woman gestured towards us with her thumb, “have been telling me that someone else was here yesterday delivering laundry. I tell you I won’t stand for it! I know my rights!”
Miss Reed frowned. “Well, I have no idea why they’re interfering in such things, but there was no one delivering laundry yesterday … as you can tell by the state of the cupboard,” and she gestured to the cupboard, which only contained the piles of laundry the woman had unloaded from her van. Miss Reed picked up a clipboard that hung on the wall beside the cupboard, and ran her eyes over it. “In fact we had no deliveries at all yesterday; it would have been awkward with the children arriving. The last laundry delivery was four days ago.”
“That was me,” the woman said grudgingly.
“Well, that’s cleared that up then,” Miss Reed said as the woman returned to her van, got in and slammed the door while muttering darkly about “busybodies”.
“But, miss!” I said urgently. “There was a delivery yesterday. A man who had problems with the brakes on his van!”
“Oh yes,” Miss Reed said, “I heard about that. Showing off those gymnastic moves again, weren’t you… Are you sure I can’t tempt you to join the gymnastics club?” She looked pleadingly at me.
“No, no,” I said quickly, “but the man in the van said he’d been here, delivering laundry.”
Miss Reed frowned again, “You must have been mistaken, Poppy. He was probably delivering something at the main hall…”
Before she could continue, Miss Reed was interrupted by a syrupy sweet voice.
“Hello, miss,” the voice said, from behind me. I turned around and found myself face to demonic face with my blonde-haired, blue-eyed nemesis.
“Annabelle!” Miss Reed exclaimed. “How lovely to see you. I hope you had a good holiday.”
“Oh yes, it was wonderful,” Annabelle simpered. “Mummy and Daddy took me to Paris to spend some of my pocket money.”
I rolled my eyes, and I heard Ingrid give a little snort next to me. Annabelle’s eyes snapped angrily in her direction. “Oh, sorry, Ingrid,” she said, her voice heavy with false sympathy. “I suppose your parents just dragged you around looking at those dusty old stamps with them. It’s sad that they’re more interested in them than…” She trailed off here and ran her eyes over poor Ingrid, who stood frozen like a bunny in the headlights. “Well, than anything else,” Annabelle finished with a smile that showed off all her little white teeth.
“I think it’s really cool that Ingrid’s parents have such an interesting hobby,” I said firmly and, despite never having had any interest in stamp collecting before, I suddenly found that I would be willing to defend it to the death. “And the Blammels travel all over the world and have an amazingly rare mint-condition Penny Black stamp,” I added hotly, knowing where Annabelle’s interest lay. “That’s worth an absolute fortune.”
Miss Reed interrupted here, sensing the rising tension. “I was just telling Poppy that we’d love it if she’d join us at gymnastics club, wouldn’t we, Annabelle?”
A flicker of annoyance crossed Annabelle’s face and I plastered on my biggest grin. “Well, maybe I’ll think about it…” I said, and Miss Reed looked delighted. “It would be good to go back to basics,” I added lightly, even though there was obviously nothing I wanted to do less than spend any extra time hanging out with Annabelle and her terrible friends.
“Wonderful!” Miss Reed exclaimed.
“Yes, wonderful,” Annabelle said through gritted teeth, and her icy glare told me I’d pay for that later.
“Come on then, Ingrid,” I said, tucking my arm through hers and tugging her along. “We’d better go and get some breakfast.” And with that we sailed through the front door without a backwards glance.
“Agh,” Ingrid groaned, once we were out of earshot. “Why do I always get all tongue-tied when Annabelle’s being mean to me? It’s so annoying.” She kicked unhappily at the ground and I gave her arm a squeeze. Annabelle was pretty terrible to everyone, but she’d been bullying Ingrid for years – ever since they were at primary school together.
“Never mind that,” I said, changing the subject to more important matters that we couldn’t let the terrible Anna-smell divert us from. “What about the mysterious van driver?”
“Are you sure he said he was delivering to the girls’ dorm?” Ingrid asked.
“I’m certain,” I nodded. “And Kip heard it too, so he can be an eyewitness.”
We found Kip waiting for us outside the main school building, an impatient look on his face that told us that a) we were late and b) he was hungry.
“Where have you beeeeeeeeeen?” he groaned, and I filled him in on the laundry woman’s appearance.
“He definitely said he’d been at the girls’ dorm,” Kip confirmed. “I remember.”
“So … he lied?” Ingrid’s eyes widened behind her thick glasses.
I nodded solemnly.
“And he could have … made the van go towards you? On purpose?” Kip’s voice squeaked nervously, and I wasn’t feeling too good about the idea myself.
I smiled a big, brave smile, as if pretending to be brave would help me to feel brave. It did help, a little bit. “
We don’t know that for sure,” I said, more firmly than I felt.
The trouble was that this mystery was like an especially tangled ball of string, and the more we tugged at it, the more difficult and knotty it became.
“Something fishy is definitely going on here,” I said in my best detective voice. “Something we’re going to have to get to the bottom of.”
“Just as long as we can have breakfast first,” Kip agreed with exaggerated cheeriness, moving towards the front door.
It was just then that I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. It was small and it scurried into some bushes. I thought I heard a faint whirring noise as it disappeared.
“What was that?” I said, coming to a stop, and Ingrid and Kip bashed into me.
“What?” Kip asked, poking his head around the side of me.
“I could have sworn I saw something…” I trailed off, moving towards the bushes at the side of the gravel path. “Something small that ran in here.” I was scrambling through the bushes now.
“It was probably just a squirrel or something,” Kip moaned, rubbing his tummy. “Do we have to stand around out here like this? I’m STARVING.”
“It was smaller than a squirrel,” I said, ignoring his complaints. “Really small … but there was something about it. It moved strangely. And didn’t you hear a funny kind of whirring sound?”
“I can’t hear anything over the sound of my own growling stomach, thanks very much,” shuddered Kip, but Ingrid came and stood beside me, peering into the greenery.
“Was it an animal?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I scrunched up my nose. “I only saw it for a second but it looked more like an insect. A big insect, though.”
“Oh great,” Kip grumbled, maintaining his distance. “So not only are we hanging around here waiting to starve to death, but we’re on the hunt for some giant, killer insect as well? Wonderful.”
It was then that the whirring noise got louder. “What—” I began, but got no further because the thing, whatever it was, buzzed straight past me and out on to the driveway.
“Waaaaa!” Ingrid cried in surprise, jumping back and almost tripping over her own feet.
It was headed straight for Kip. For a second I thought he was going to leg it in the opposite direction, but a look of heroic determination appeared on his face and he threw himself forward, sprawling on the ground, with his hands closing around the whirring object. There was a crunching sound, and the whirring noise stopped abruptly. Kip lifted his face doubtfully, a guilty look resting there.
“Errr … whatever it is,” he said, “I think I killed it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
We gathered around as he got to his feet, both his hands still wrapped around the creature. Tentatively, Kip prised his fingers apart. In the palm of his hand was a beetle. Well, sort of. It was smaller than Kip’s hand but still pretty big for a beetle, and its body shimmered a light, metallic blue-grey. It had two thin antennae and six spindly legs. But it wasn’t so much the colour or the size that caught our attention. It was its insides.
Yes, Kip had squashed it. But he hadn’t killed it. Because there, resting in his hand, were two tiny wires and some bits of metal, not a living creature.
“What on earth is it?” Ingrid asked, bending over Kip’s open hand and adjusting her spectacles so that she could get a good look. I waggled one of the antenna gently with my finger and it made the sort of soft whirring sound you may hear from a wind-up toy. I moved in to have a closer look and it was then that I noticed that the ends of the antennae weren’t the same metallic blue-grey colour as the rest of the beetle; instead they were clear, and, as Kip tipped the creature back and forth in the light, I saw something glinting there.
“It’s a robot!” Kip exclaimed, and then he jumped and let out a little shriek as one of the beetle’s legs twitched feebly. “It’s an uprising! The robots are coming! We live in the future! No one is safe… Is there some kind of underground bunker?” His head swivelled around as though waiting for a horde of killer robots to attack.
“Maybe it’s a toy?” I guessed hesitantly. “It could be remote controlled?”
“Oh.” Kip’s face lost its look of total panic. “I guess that makes more sense.”
“It’s a pretty fancy toy,” Ingrid said. “I reckon it must have been expensive.”
“Oh, great,” Kip said, swallowing hard. “And I just smashed it up. That’s going to go down well.”
“I wonder who it belongs to?” I said.
We scanned the scene around us. Despite the early hour it was quite busy, as students had begun to make their way to the dining hall for breakfast before the start of lessons.
“Has anyone lost a beetle?” I asked loudly. A few heads turned in our direction but no one came forward.
It was time for Kip to put his big voice to use. “She said, HAS ANYONE LOST THEIR ROBOT BEETLE?” he yelled.
More heads turned now, and several people laughed as though it was a joke. Kip harrumphed. “I don’t know why I bother trying to be helpful.”
It was then that Mei appeared.
“Hi, guys,” she said brightly. “Nice to see you again. What have you got there?”
“It’s just a toy,” Kip muttered, a blush creeping up his neck as Mei stepped nearer to him to get a closer look.
Mei scrunched up her nose. “Where did you find it?” she asked.
“It was just in the bushes over there,” I said and I stepped forward, plucking the beetle from Kip’s hand and putting it safely in my pocket. “I think I’ll send it to Leaky Sue’s. That way Doris can have a look at it next time they’re there,” I said. “She’ll know what it is. Maybe she can fix it? Then Kip won’t get in trouble.”
Kip nodded, a look of relief spreading across his face.
“Who are Leaky Sue and Doris?” Mei asked.
“Leaky Sue owns a hotel that my family stay at sometimes, when they’re on tour,” I said. “They’re a travelling circus,” I added when Mei looked confused.
“And Doris is part of Poppy’s circus family,” Ingrid answered. “She invents all the brilliant magic tricks. She can fix anything. She’s amazing.”
“She used to be a spy!” Kip blurted out, and Mei’s already widened eyes widened even more.
“Really?” she breathed.
“Well,” I said, shooting a look at Kip, “possibly. It’s classified information, you see.” Doris’s time working for the government was pretty hazy. I had only ever heard snippets and I certainly can’t tell you anything more about it, because you’d have to have top-level clearance.
“Of course.” Mei nodded seriously, a look of total awe plastered across her face.
“Are you coming in for breakfast, Mei?” I asked, trying to sound kind and welcoming. I remembered my own first morning at Saint Smithen’s and how impossibly big everything had seemed. “You can sit with us.”
Mei gave me a shy smile. “Thanks, Poppy,” she said. “I’d really like that.”
Kip was shooting daggers at me with his eyes, and as Ingrid and Mei made their way inside he grabbed my elbow.
“What did you do that for?” he hissed.
“It’s called being nice,” I said. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s something about her,” Kip muttered suspiciously. “I don’t like her.”
I scoffed. “You mean you luuuuuuurve her!”
“I DO NOT!” Kip hollered, his face flaming redder than a sunburnt lobster.
“Well, she likes you,” I said slyly. “I can tell.”
“I’m telling you there’s something wrong with her,” Kip muttered.
“You’re not that bad,” I said.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, scowling. “Mark my words, she’s bad news.”
I rolled my eyes. Honestly, boys were so useless sometimes. I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him along after me. For once, even the thought of breakfast didn’t seem to be getting Kip moving.
> Later that evening, after Letty and Ingrid had both fallen asleep, I sat on my bed and, by torchlight, carefully wrapped the beetle toy inside a parcel to send to Doris. Perhaps she could repair it and we could return it to its owner. As I added the final bits of sticky tape to the package my thoughts returned to the mysterious van driver of the day before and what we had learned. Was it just a simple misunderstanding? Or was it possible that Kip was right… Was there something underhand going on? Was someone really trying to hurt me?
The wind outside suddenly picked up, rattling the windows in their frames, and I felt that tingling feeling of being watched again. Rushing to the window as silently as possible, so that I didn’t disturb my sleeping roommates, I flung open the curtains and peered out into the darkness beyond. Everything was quiet and still, nothing stirred in the shadows and my breath fogged up the glass. Still the feeling persisted, and as I padded back to bed and tucked myself in, pulling the blankets tightly around me, I felt a zing of nervousness shoot through me. Whatever was going on here, my detective senses were well and truly buzzing, and I knew for certain that something wasn’t right. As I finally began to drop off to sleep, I wondered if we would ever find answers for all my questions, and what sort of clue we would stumble on next.
CHAPTER NINE
But there was no next clue. All three of us lived in a state of constant alertness, peering suspiciously into the faces of strangers, and interrogating the school staff so intensely that we had to pretend we were writing an article for the school newspaper – even though there wasn’t a school newspaper. Fortunately, with a bit of quick thinking, we got Letty to start one. Unfortunately, she actually made us write the article then. Although Kip was quite pleased to be included as food critic and his weekly column, “KIP EATS STUFF”, gathered something of a cult following.
I grilled Miss Susan as much as I could during our weekly meetings without raising suspicion, but it was hard to know if there was anything she wasn’t telling me. After all, I had known her for quite a long time before I worked out we were related, and I’m a top detective. Let’s just say she’s a pretty good secret keeper. We tried to find out anything we could about the man who had been driving the van that day, but no one seemed to know who he was, and he certainly never returned to the school again; we had the place under full surveillance. Still, as this was our best clue and we weren’t about to give up, we got to know every delivery driver who came to the school – although none of them seemed to be able to shed any light on the situation. We haunted the library, we kept detailed notebooks about our daily encounters, we sent each other coded messages arranging covert meetings to debrief. They said things like: