The Beast of Seabourne

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The Beast of Seabourne Page 11

by Rhys A. Jones


  Oz looked around. There wasn’t one. Sergeant Thomas turned back to the Volcano. “Could we arrange a seat for Oscar, Miss Swinson?”

  “Seat?” the Volcano said as if he’d just asked for a bucket of pig’s blood. “I usually get them to stand…”

  “I think it would be best if we allowed Oscar to sit.”

  She stared at him for another five seconds before getting up and bustling across to the door. She yanked it open, barked out some orders, and waited while one of the bespectacled secretaries brought in a plastic chair, upon which Oz finally sat. The Volcano went back to her desk. “Now, Oscar, how’s your mother?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

  “Fine, thanks,” Oz said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Volcano’s nose wrinkle.

  “So, yesterday you were at a five-a-side tournament with Kieron Skinner, I understand.”

  “Yeah. Well, not actually with him. I mean he was there with the rest of the Skullers—uh, his team—but I was with the Lions.”

  Keller scribbled.

  “And you left at what time?”

  “Ruff ’s dad picked us up at about three, I think.”

  “And after that?”

  “I went home. Did my homework, watched some TV, and went to bed.”

  Oz could see the Volcano fidgeting. It was clear she was having a great deal of difficulty keeping quiet and still.

  “You won’t mind if I give your mum a ring afterwards to confirm all of this?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

  “Fine by me,” Oz said.

  “But what about the hat?” the Volcano blurted out in a shrill voice. “Aren’t you going to ask him about the hat?”

  Keller stopped writing and slowly turned an irritated expression towards the Volcano. “Please be quiet,” she said in a calm but authoritative voice.

  The Volcano looked like she’d just swallowed a snail. “But—”

  Keller silenced her with another look. Sergeant Thomas sighed, reached into a leather bag, and took out a floppy, dark object inside a zipped plastic bag. Oz recognised the red diamond pattern weaving around it immediately.

  “Do you recognise this, Oz?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

  The Volcano smiled in triumph.

  Oz stared at the plastic bag and felt his throat squeeze shut. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “It’s my goalie hat. I lost it yesterday at the tournament.”

  The Volcano let out a mangled snort that was about as full of doubt and scepticism as was possible without screaming “a likely story” out loud.

  Keller didn’t look up, but Oz saw her make slits of her eyelids and purse her lips.

  “Have you any idea why or how this was found at the scene of the attack?”

  Oz shook his head and let his eyes fall again to the bag and the hat inside it. “No, none.”

  This was too much for the Volcano, who thrust herself to her feet. “Oh, come on.” She put both hands on the desk and leaned over it towards Oz, her bulging eyes even bulgier than normal. “We know you chased Skinner yesterday. We know you threatened to kill him. We know that he was taunting you. So, tell us how you got to where it happened. Bike? Cab? Bus? Tell us. Come on, how?”

  Silence collapsed on the room. Oz was so totally surprised by this outburst that he completely forgot to swallow. It was Keller’s turn to look as if something disgusting had just crawled into the room, but her eyes were on the Volcano. Sergeant Thomas, meanwhile, was looking calmly downwards and picking bits of lint off his trousers. The silence stretched out for so long that Oz felt he ought to say something.

  “Skinner was being a pain yesterday, but then he always is.

  To everyone, I mean. We were playing Skullers B—Kieron was watching from behind the goals, and well, he started throwing mud at me. I’d had enough by then. Both Skullers teams had been giving everyone argy-bargy all afternoon, and when he threw the mud, I…” Oz paused, looking around at the faces that were all looking at him keenly.

  “Go on,” Sergeant Thomas urged.

  “I lost it and chased him. I probably did say I’d kill him… along with a few other things. He thought it was great fun. That was when I lost my hat…”

  “I see.” Sergeant Thomas nodded.

  “This was in the middle of a game, so Skinner got away. Me, Ellie, and Ruff looked for my hat afterwards, but we never found it.”

  The Volcano was still standing, looking from Oz to the policeman and back again. “Is it just me, or is that not the biggest load of hogwash ever to—”

  “Sit down, Miss Swinson,” WPC Keller said with a quelling glare.

  “But how can you listen to this drivel? It’s obvious that the hat fell off as Chambers here was kicking seven bells out of poor Kieron Skinner—”

  “If you can’t sit down and be quiet, we will have to ask you to leave,” Keller said, very deliberately.

  “Leave? My own office?” The Volcano let out a derisive cackle. “I don’t think so.”

  Keller wasn’t laughing.

  “Look, I lost it a bit yesterday, I admit,” Oz said before anyone else could speak. “But I don’t know how my hat got to wherever Skinner was attacked. Unless he took it. That would have been a typical Skinner thing to do. But I didn’t attack him. Why would I? I mean he’s a pain, yes, but he’s loads bigger than me. And I was at home all night. You can ask my mum.”

  “Be sure that we will,” the Volcano said shrilly.

  “Right, that’s it. Out!” Keller ordered, standing up. She was half the size of the Volcano, but her finger was pointing resolutely at the door.

  The Volcano drew herself up. “This is my office,” she said.

  “And we’re police officers. If you don’t leave now, I’ll arrest you for obstructing our enquiry.”

  The Volcano flinched. “Arrest me?” Her voice had taken on a bemused, slightly hurt tone. “But I’m trying to help here. I know Chambers’ sort. I know how sly and very devious they can be. I’ve had years of…”

  “OUT,” Keller said. For a not very tall woman, she had a quite powerful voice, and one accustomed to ordering drunken people twice her size to behave or else. The force of it caused the Volcano to take an unsteady step back. But she did as she was told, avoiding any eye contact with Oz as she left the room, deliberately banging into things and slamming the door with all the dignity of a wounded hippo.

  “Thank you, Constable Keller,” Sergeant Thomas said calmly. “Now Oz, have you any idea who might want to do something like this to Kieron?”

  Oz thought. There were a dozen people who regularly threatened Skinner with death for being a pain; it was almost a daily occurrence. But they were just empty threats, childish catcalling in response to provocation. He couldn’t think of anyone who’d want to do him any real harm. Oz shook his head.

  “Okay, thank you. I will have to give your mother a quick ring just to tick a few boxes; you understand that, don’t you?”

  Oz shrugged and got up from the chair, but hesitated and looked at the policeman.

  “Sergeant Thomas, what actually happened to Kieron? Was he beaten up?”

  “Yes, and attacked with some sort of sharp instrument. It was too dark for the passer-by who disturbed the attacker to make anything out, though he claims he heard noises like an animal. Grunts and strange barks and whatnot, though many of the injuries are more in keeping with human fists and boots than claws and teeth. So, it doesn’t all fit yet, unless the attacker had a dog with him, of course.” He offered Oz a smile. “Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this, I’m certain.”

  “Is there anything else you want to say?” Keller asked in her abrupt way. “Just that I hope he’s okay, that’s all. I mean he’s a pain and all that, but he doesn’t deserve to be in a hospital.”

  Sergeant Thomas smiled. “Thank you, Oz. I’ll pass that on. We’re going to hang on to your hat for a day or two, okay? We’ll get it back to you shortly. But for now, you’re free to go.”

  Outside the Volcano’s office, Oz hurried away. He caught one gli
mpse of her voluminous magenta blouse in the secretaries’ office, but she pretended not to see him, and that suited him just fine. As he walked slowly back to French, his mind kept turning over what Sergeant Thomas had said, examining it from all angles.

  Who would want to attack Skinner? He wasn’t exactly your average mugging victim in his beaten-up trainers and torn hoody. But the location—on the edge of a park— sounded about right for a random attack. Oz was always seeing reports of people being attacked in places like that.

  Yet he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling he was missing something here. And he still hadn’t worked out what it was when he explained his thoughts to Ellie and Ruff at break.

  “Maybe it was a mistake,” Ruff offered.

  “A mistake? How?” Ellie asked.

  Ruff ’s face lit up. “What if it was the bear auramal that tracked Oz up at Eldred’s place? Maybe it’s got his scent and thought, because of the hat, that Skinner was Oz.”

  “But that’s just too random,” Oz said. “I mean why would that auramal be in that park if it was after me? It’s nowhere near where I live.”

  Ruff looked momentarily deflated.

  “Typical of the Volcano to jump to conclusions, though, just because of a hat,” Ellie said. “You did tell her we spent ages looking for it after the tournament?”

  Oz nodded.

  “And you reckon Skinner nicked it?” Ruff asked. “How else did it get there?” Oz said, anger raising his voice.

  “Okay, okay, keep your hair on,” Ruff said.

  “It’s all right for you.” Oz felt heat in his cheeks. “If the Volcano had her way, I’d be in jail already.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Oz,” Ellie said. “The police know you weren’t involved.”

  “Do they, though?”

  “Of course they do.”

  Oz was grateful for Ellie’s confident words. Yet for the rest of that morning he kept going over and over the meeting in the Volcano’s office in his mind, because, unlike Ellie, he felt certain this wasn’t the last he was going to hear of the attack.

  Some of the other pupils in the class were summoned to talk to Sergeant Thomas and PC Keller, including Ruff and Ellie, who were asked exactly the same questions as Oz and gave identical answers. It was as Aaron Bradley came back from meeting Sergeant Thomas at lunchtime that Tracy Roper came up with a suggestion for the culprit, a suggestion which spread like wildfire around the school.

  Having not been at the tournament herself, but being the nosiest in their year, it was driving her mad not to know what had happened. She quizzed Marcus thoroughly as he entered the canteen, but all he could do was shrug and say,

  “Told them I saw Skinner leaving the barbecue at about six. Don’t know where he went after that.”

  “Oh, you’re useless,” Tracy said, and dropped her voice to address the small knot of listeners around her. “Lucas Creighton in 3A said that the witness who found Skinner heard howling.”

  “As in wolf?”

  “As in something.” Tracy’s eyes flashed. “And,” she whispered dramatically, “Leanta in 2B, whose gran has, like, lived in Seabourne for like forever, reckons it could be the Beast of Seabourne.”

  There was a moment’s stunned silence as everyone exchanged quizzical looks.

  “The what of Seabourne?” asked someone.

  “Beast, you mollusc.”

  “That old cobblers,” said someone else. “That’s just a story used to frighten little kids at Halloween.”

  “It’s a legend,” Tracy Roper insisted. “It was this monster that stalked the countryside and attacked people. It was in all the papers, like, a million years ago. And some people claim it never really went away.”

  “What is it, then, this beast?” asked Dilpak, sounding a bit anxious.

  “No one knows because no one ever saw it properly,” Tracy explained. “It was, like, this supernatural demon-type thing.”

  “Yeah, but even if there was one, why would it attack Kieron?” Marcus asked, and got several nods for his trouble since it was what everyone else was thinking.

  “I don’t know, do I?” Tracy snapped.

  “She’s off again,” Ellie said, making eyes at the ceiling, but Oz was only half-listening. Rowena Hilditch had mentioned the Beast of Seabourne just the other day.

  “Oz,” Ellie said, dropping her voice low. “Are you all right?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t believe that stuff Tracy’s spouting on about, do you?” she scoffed.

  “Don’t know what to believe. All I know is that Kieron had my hat, and as far as the Volcano is concerned, that’s better than DNA and a fingerprint.” Oz packed away his books. “So, anything that gets me off the hook is worth considering, I reckon.”

  Ruff and Ellie gaped at him.

  “Well, I’m not listening to Tracy Roper’s rubbish,” Ellie said, grabbing her backpack. “I’m going to Geog. You ready for the science test, Oz?”

  “Did a bit of work last night,” Oz admitted, glad of the change of subject.

  “Wish I had,” Ruff said. “Had to help my dad till gone eight. I was too knackered when I got home to do anything.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it all before.” Ellie shook her head. “You never do any work but you get ninety per cent anyway.” She sighed. “It’s boring.”

  “I’m not joking this time,” Ruff protested. “I’ve hardly done anything. Honest.”

  “You better have,” Oz said. “We’ve all got to get good marks; otherwise, we can say goodbye to the field trip.”

  “Take no notice of him, Oz,” Ellie said. “Ruff will ace this one like he does all the others.”

  Ruff shook his head. “I’m serious—”

  “Oh, give it a rest,” Ellie said. “I believe that even less than I believe the Beast of Bloomin’ Seabourne fancied Kieron Skinner when it had the choice of the whole city. Don’t tell me that there was nothing juicier and less smelly about. Come on, or we’ll be late again.”

  Oz followed her while Ruff lagged behind, scowling at their lack of sympathy. Oz wanted to dismiss his excuses, too, but didn’t, because for one tiny second, he thought he saw a little shadow of something that could have been fear flicker over Ruff ’s face. But Tracy Roper started howling like a wolf at that moment, and he forgot all about Ruff ’s pleas as the cry was taken up by the pack of 2C.

  The entire rest of that day was spent speculating over what had actually happened to Skinner, but no one had any real answers. By the time they got to last lesson and double science, everyone was fed up with it all and even more fed up with the prospect of a test. Not so Mr Skelton, who handed out the test papers breezily.

  “Right, you all know the format by now. Multiple choice. Just tick the boxes. You have fifteen minutes starting from now.”

  Oz had played rock-cycle snap the night before, having been taught the study method by his friends the Fanshaw twins from across the street. This involved writing out essential bits of information on cards and playing one-man snap with them. It meant you looked at the information intently for quite a long time and in a fun way. Although he’d been tired after the five-a-side, he’d been amazed to learn that obsidian was actually a type of volcanic glass, which explained why the eighteenth-century barn owner who had found Soph’s base unit during the Bunthorpe encounter had decided to call it an obsidian pebble when it clearly wasn’t. Back then, no one knew what plastic was.

  Oz tried to remember not to guess in the multiple choice, since Skelton took marks off for wrong answers. If in doubt, leave alone. He got a bit stuck on which metamorphic rock came from limestone, but went for marble instead of slate and crossed his fingers. He finished and sneaked a look around at Ruff, who was not looking at all happy. Skelton collected the papers, but they had no chance to discuss the questions because he immediately went in to the prep room and wheeled out a large laundry basket.

  “2C, I am very pleased to announce that Dr Heeps, who you r
emember presented the science project prize, was extremely impressed with this year’s efforts. So much so that he gave a glowing report to Mr Gerber of JG Industries. He has therefore decided to present all of year eight with personalised lab coats. I would like you all to receive them now and try them for size.” He reached into the basket and took out a crisp, folded, white lab coat with silver piping on the sleeves and hem.

  Skelton read out the stitched name over the pocket. “Marcus Skyrme?”

  2C jeered and whooped as Marcus got up and fetched his coat, but ten minutes later, they were all sitting in their own gleaming new linens or doing twirls, with the room full of excited chatter.

  “You look like someone from James Bond’s secret lab,” Ellie said, watching Oz preen.

  Amazingly, everyone’s fitted perfectly.

  “Excellent. I will expect you to wear these coats every time you come into the lab from now on, partly out of respect to Gerber Industries and Dr Heeps and, of course, for health and safety reasons. Your old coats will be recycled to the year below. No one is allowed to take these home; they remain the property of the school. Anyone found wearing them outside the lab will have them confiscated.”

  The classroom buzzed, but Skelton went straight to the board and wrote “ACIDS, ALKALIS, AND SALTS.”

  “Right, on we go,” he said. “The scale used for measuring the acidity or alkalinity of a substance is called the pH scale…”

  There was a frantic search for pens, and it was only an hour later, as they left the lab at the end of the lesson, that Ellie nudged Oz.

  “Well?” she said.

  “I was hoping they’d have something in green,” Oz said in a deadpan voice.

  “I don’t mean the lab coats, I mean the test.”

  “Oh, that,” Oz said. “It was okay, wasn’t it, Ruff?”

  Ruff was lagging behind, and when Oz turned around, he saw Ruff was scowling.

  “No, it was not okay. I told you, I didn’t do anything for it. I’ll be lucky if I get fifty percent.”

  “Oh, come on,” Ellie said. “It was easy.”

  “All right for you, Miss Super Organised. And I expect Oz had a sublimsert thingy from Soph, which meant that he was studying in his buzzarding sleep.”

 

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