Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis

by Paula Berinstein

  “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?”

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Amanda, “but you want us to help you?”

  “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.

  Duh. Yes, we know that. And what flows logically from that?

  The body was found at Legatum.

  And what questions does that raise?

  How did it get here?

  Yes, good place to start.

  “We need to figure out how Mr. Wiffle got onto campus,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Simon. “Was he killed here or murdered elsewhere and brought here?”

  “Let’s think about that,” said Amanda. “Would he have come here voluntarily and not let anyone know? Or maybe he came to see the murderer but
didn’t tell anyone else.”

  “We can check the guard gate records to see when he came through,” said Simon.

  “Of course he could have snuck in,” said Amanda. She looked over at Clive, who gulped. He’d managed to get them by the security gates. Could someone else have done so as well?

  “Unlikely,” said Simon. “It’s pretty difficult. To go through all that implies that he had some nefarious motive and didn’t want anyone to know. Otherwise he’d just go through the guard gate.”

  “Yes,” said Amanda. “And if he did have an ulterior motive, what was it? Who could he have been coming to see? Not his son. That wouldn’t be cause for sneaking around.”

  “No,” said Simon. “Before we do anything else, let’s check with the guard.” He looked at Professor Also, who nodded. He took his phone out of his pocket and rang the gate. Amanda could hear the guard’s voice. She checked to see if she had her listening device in, but no, he must just have been a loud guy.

  “Hello, uh,” said Simon. “Is that Merlin? Oh, hi. This is Simon Binkle, first-year? Yes, uh huh. Sure, I wouldn’t mind showing you what I did to my board. It’s really smooth now. Yeah, you could use it in the fells as long as the path isn’t too steep. Listen, uh, would it be possible for you to check some records for me and Headmaster Thrillkill? No, he isn’t here right now, but if you’d like to speak to Professor Also . . .” He handed the phone to the history of detectives teacher.

  “Yes, Merlin, how are you?” she said. “Yes, uh huh. Yes, do please give Mr. Binkle whatever information he asks for. On my authority, yes. So glad the technology is working properly. Those voice ID devices are very handy, aren’t they? All right, I’m giving you back to Mr. Binkle.”

  Simon took the phone. “Hi.” He listened for a moment. “Sure, no problem. I’m looking for information on Wink Wiffle. Can you tell me the last time he was on campus?” He waited a moment. “Really? You’re sure?” Another pause. “Sure. How about tomorrow morning? See you then.” He hung up.

  “I heard that,” said Amanda.

  “Yeah, my ear hurts,” said Simon. “Nice guy, though.”

  “Care to enlighten us?” said Professor Stegelmeyer. His hearing must not have been so good. Amanda figured you could hear Merlin all the way at the other end of the building.

  “Sorry, Professor,” said Simon. “Merlin was just interested in my skateboard designs.”

  “Not that, Mr. Binkle,” said Professor Stegelmeyer.

  “Sorry, sir. The, uh, the records. Yes. Well, the last time Mr. Wiffle was here was January 6th, the day of the orientation.”

  So Wink Wiffle had been alive on the day of the orientation. He’d probably come with David to see him off and hadn’t been back since, at least not officially.

  “We need to tell Professor Hoxby,” said Amanda, getting out her phone.

  “You mean so he can establish time of death?” said Clive.

  “Exactly,” said Amanda. “We know Mr. Wiffle can’t have been murdered before January 6th. That means he may have been dead for more than three months, but it might be less than that.” She punched a text onto her screen and hit Send.

  “Professor Hoxby’s estimate—and Ivy’s—does fall within that time frame,” said Simon.

  “So it’s possible he got onto campus by coming for the orientation,” said Amanda. “No sneaking in.”

  “We could work with that theory, see what we come up with,” said Simon.

  “It makes the most sense, doesn’t it?” said Amanda. “Why would he sneak onto campus?”

  “And if he was killed somewhere else, why would the murderer bring him here to bury him?” said Clive. “It isn’t logical.”

  “To send a message, maybe,” said Amanda.

  “That’s a lot of trouble just to send a message,” said Simon.

  “But not impossible,” said Amanda.

  There was a knock at the door. “It’s Hoxby,” said the man on the other side.

  Amanda looked at the teachers. Professor Stegelmeyer nodded. “Come in,” she said.

  Professor Hoxby was so delighted to receive Simon’s news about the last day Wink Wiffle had been at the school that he turned a deeper shade of purple than usual. Amanda still had not got used to how ghoulish he was, but she had to admit that he was an excellent pathologist and kind of a nice person if you were able to overlook his weirdness.

  He had taken Amanda’s text as an invitation to join the brainstorming group. Not that she’d meant it that way, but she guessed it wouldn’t hurt. She just hoped he wouldn’t talk about too many gory things. She still wasn’t used to the whole autopsy routine.

  “Shame about Wiffle,” he said. “I imagine Thrillkill’s quite upset.”

  “He went off to tell David,” said Amanda.

  “He and Wiffle were like this,” he said, holding up two gnarled fingers.

  “Really?” Amanda was surprised. She hadn’t imagined Thrillkill being close with anyone.

  “Yes, they worked many cases together,” said Professor Hoxby. “He’s not going to rest until the murderer has been caught.”

  “You don’t suppose it was one of Moriarty’s moles, do you?” said Simon.

  “I surely do,” said Professor Hoxby. “Probably Mavis. I never trusted that woman. There was something shifty about her.”

  Amanda thought it might not be such a great idea to remind the good professor that if he’d been suspicious of Mavis, he should have said something a lot earlier. If he had, her father might not have been kidnapped and Nick might be alive.

  “She certainly had opportunity,” she said.

  “The doctor too,” said Simon. “And the cook. And—” He looked at Amanda. She was sure he was going to say Nick but had caught himself. Unfortunately, Professor Hoxby was not so diplomatic.

  “And that kid,” said the teacher. “What was his name? Ned?” The room went silent. Professor Hoxby looked around. “What? Did I say something?”

  “It’s okay, Professor,” said Simon. “His name was Nick.”

  “Let’s think about how we’re going to approach this now,” said Professor Also, butting into the conversation. “I think we need to search the moles’ rooms one more time.” What would that make it—four times? Five?

  “I think we should also consider motive,” said Amanda relieved at the change in direction. “Why would someone kill Mr. Wiffle?”

  “Revenge,” said Simon.

  “Send a message,” said Professor Hoxby.

  “Get him out of the way,” said Amanda.

  “Steal something from him,” said Clive.

  “Accident,” said Amanda.

  “Punishment,” said Professor Hoxby.

  “Isn’t that the same as revenge?” said Amanda.

  “No,” said Simon. “Revenge involves resentment. Punishment is unemotional.”

  “You think so?” said Amanda. “I thought they were pretty much the same.”

  “Don’t think so,” said Simon. “Revenge leads to blood feuds. You kill someone in my family, I have to kill you. Then my relative has to kill someone in your family, then your relative kills someone in my family, and on it goes.”

  “I see what you’re saying,” said Amanda. “Then punishment would be fining someone or something like that. Hey, do you think that’s what Ivy is doing to you and Amphora?”

  “Yeah,” said Simon. “That’s punishment. There’s no emotion involved. It’s just a price. It’s supposed to change our behavior. Isn’t succeeding though. I mean with me and Amphora.”

  “So punishment changes behavior but revenge is emotional,” she said.

  “Exactly,” said Simon.

  “We’ve got a good list,” she said. “If we can put these motives together with the possible suspects, we should be able to figure out who the killer is.”

  “Unless, of course, we have evidence,” said Professor Hoxby. “Then we don’t need a motive. Although it’s always better if you have one.”

  “Bu
t we don’t,” said Amanda. “Have evidence, I mean.”

  “I agree with Professor Also,” said Professor Stegelmeyer. “I think it’s time we tried again.

  There was no way Amanda was going to return to Nick’s room. She was sure there was nothing else to be found there, but even if there had been, it was better to let someone else do it. The experience had been awful, and by the way, she still didn’t know why Nick had hidden that picture of her or the film they’d made. Not that she had any desire to think about them. In fact, up until this moment she’d completely forgotten about them.

  Fortunately no one suggested that she search Nick’s room, or anyone’s. After the meeting broke up the teachers took care of that themselves, although once David Wiffle had had a chance to digest the news, which he had taken badly, they asked him to come to Mavis’s room and look around. When he did he found a ring he recognized as having belonged to his father. This discovery tied Mavis and Wink Wiffle together. How, no one yet knew. Thrillkill, who’d been Wiffle’s close friend, had had no idea they’d known each other, if in fact they had. What Mrs. Moriarty would have been doing with Wink’s ring they couldn’t say.

  Now that they had managed to associate the two, they probed Mavis’s background even more carefully. Astonishingly, her arrest record was clean, at least up until recently. Her school grades were exemplary, and she’d never even gotten a traffic ticket. She’d either been lucky, amazingly careful, or a late bloomer when it came to criminal activity. Seeing that she’d been married to Blixus for more than a dozen years, the last seemed unlikely. Nor did her family and former neighbors, social media presence, or mobile phone data shed light on the situation. The woman seemed a ghost, but unfortunately she was all too real.

  Amanda was dying to know what the deal was with Thrillkill and Wiffle. There was no love lost between Thrillkill and Blixus Moriarty. The same was probably true of Wink Wiffle and Blixus. Perhaps Blixus had put Mavis up to the murder. Whether it was for revenge, to get the man out of the way, send a message, or whatever, she might have done it to please her husband, or to further his business interests. Thrillkill undoubtedly knew a lot more about the whole dynamic between the Moriartys and the detectives than the kids did. Without that missing piece of the puzzle it was difficult for them to speculate much further.