Chapter 22
Secret Room Redux
The kitchen was as silent as a tomb and now as deadly too. Amanda froze for a split second, then in a very undetective-like manner ran screaming from the room. “There’s been a murder!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. All the kids who were walking to and from classes started screaming too. “What do you mean, a murder?” “Who’s dead?” “Who did it?” “Thrillkill is dead?” “Stegelmeyer is dead?” “The school is being closed?”
At that moment Professor Buck, the Profiling teacher, a dark-skinned older man with a smooth pate and rimless glasses, was walking by and said loudly, “What’s going on?” He was such a commanding presence that everyone stopped talking at once.
“Professor, the cook has been murdered,” Amanda gasped. She was finding it hard to catch her breath.
“Well, where is she?” he said, more calmly than Amanda could have.
“I’ll show you.”
“Nobody move,” said Professor Buck. “We need to preserve the evidence.”
Amanda led the teacher to the kitchen and then to the pantry. He leaned in as far as he could and felt the cook’s forehead, then her pulse. “Yep, dead as a doornail,” he said. “Young lady, have you got your phone?”
“Yes, sir.” She dug into her pocket and pulled the phone out.
“I want you to text the school doctor at once,” said Professor Buck. “You know him?”
“No, sir.”
“Mr. Tunnel. And Headmaster Thrillkill. Tell them to come immediately.” Professor Buck’s bald head gleamed in the stark light from the pantry bulb.
“Yes, sir.”
Amanda sent the texts and removed herself from the crime scene, leaving Professor Buck to guard the corpse. Soon the doctor came running in, followed by the headmaster. The crowd whispered and murmured. Having found the body, Amanda was something of a star.
“Yes, in a pool of blood,” she said to one student. “With her head in a bag of sugar, I think. It might have been salt,” she said to another. “I couldn’t get into the pantry. She was blocking the door,” she said to yet another.
The students buzzed like a hive of bumblebees. Then she saw Nick.
“Nick,” said Amanda. “Have you heard?”
“Yes.” He lowered his voice. “We should go look at that room before anyone finds out about it.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, matching his volume. “We have to tell them. We can’t keep this sugar thing a secret any longer.”
“We will,” he said. “But let’s just take a peek before they declare the room off limits.”
“What if we disturb something important?”
“We won’t. We’ll be extra careful. Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her away.
Instead of going out through the east common room as they usually did, he cut through to the north common room, which was closer. It belonged to Father Brown House. There were black and white photographs of 19th century New York on the walls and the room had been set up to mimic a museum, with red Danish-style couches, bare wood floors, and empty glass display cases. Amanda wondered what the gremlins were planning to put inside them.
“I don’t feel good about this,” she said.
“It will be fine. You want to be a great detective, don’t you? You told me you did.” He stopped and looked into her eyes.
“Yes, but what if—”
“No buts. Just a tiny peek. We won’t even go in.”
“No, we won’t because we can’t. That door barely opens.”
“See? There’s no way we can disturb anything. What’s the harm?”
“You’re right as usual.” She smiled at him. He grinned back.
They started off again, came to the third door, and entered. Amanda had thought it was weird that this door wasn’t locked the first time they saw it, and now she thought so again. But if it had been locked they never would have been able to see the sugar and the gluppy things, so it was probably a good thing it wasn’t. Maybe the custodians figured there was nothing valuable there so why secure it.
Once more she turned on her light, and once more she started the video recorder. The stairs were now clear, the gluppy thing from before probably having found its way to a new food source. When they got to the bottom, Amanda was surprised to find that the door was no longer obstructed.
“I can open it,” she said, pushing. The door moved easily now.
“Come on,” said Nick. “Let’s have a look.”
But when she opened the door she got a shock. All the sugar and all the gluppy things were gone! Barely a trace remained. What was there, though, lying in a corner, was a glinty thing that looked like a gold watch.
“What’s going on?” said Amanda.
“I have no idea. What is that over there?” Nick said pointing toward the corner.
“It looks like a watch.” She moved closer. Her shoes stuck to the floor and made a glicking sound.
“Let’s see what it is,” he said moving to pick it up.
“We can’t,” she said. “Evidence.”
“Sure we can. Have you got your gloves?”
“Yes, but—”
“You won’t disturb anything. Not with your gloves on. Please, Amanda. Let’s just find out what it is.” He gave her a puppy dog look.
“Okay. Let me get them.” He knew she couldn’t resist. Unfair tactics. “Would you hold this, please?”
She gave him the phone and put on her gloves, then tiptoed to the watch and picked it up, glicking with each step. It too was sticky from the sugar.
“Oh no!” she said, looking carefully and turning it around in her hand. Her heart started beating very fast and she got a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” He craned his neck to see whatever it was that she was seeing.
She turned the watch over and back again. There was no denying it. “This watch.”
“Yes?”
“It’s my father’s!”
Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy Page 56