8 Top Marks for Murder

by Robin Stevens

‘Daisy!’ I said. ‘You can’t just—’

  ‘I certainly can,’ said Daisy. ‘You did it to get out of Deportment last week, Hazel, don’t try to pretend you didn’t. Now, come on, look after your poor friend in her hour of need!’

  I rolled my eyes. But I had to admit that it was one of Daisy’s simplest and best plans.

  Daisy and I stood outside the door to San. From inside I could hear terrible moans and low, urgent voices. What was happening? Was this like Mr Curtis, all over again? My stomach clenched in sympathy at that thought.

  Daisy, of course, was undaunted. ‘All right, Hazel,’ she said. ‘Knock on the door as loudly as you can. If no one comes after ten seconds, we shall just go in, and look terribly apologetic when we’re noticed. Are you ready?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Go!’ said Daisy.

  I hammered on the door with my fist, and next to me Daisy doubled up, clutching her stomach.

  ‘OWWWW!’ she wailed. ‘Oh, help! I’m in DREADFUL AGONY!’

  No one answered.

  I knocked again, while Daisy made tragic noises.

  At last, a very harassed-looking Mrs Minn came running to the door.

  ‘Who’s dying now?’ she cried, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Fourth formers, what on earth are you doing? Don’t you know I’m in the middle of a crisis!’

  ‘Mrs Minn, I’m so terribly ill! Please help me!’ gasped Daisy. She had somehow made herself go deathly pale, and her bright blue eyes started out of her face. ‘I’m bleeding – it’s horrid – I have the CURSE!’

  ‘Good heavens, Miss Wells, if it’s the curse then there’s nothing in the slightest wrong with you,’ said Mrs Minn.

  ‘I think I shall faint,’ said Daisy, and she swayed on her feet.

  ‘Now, don’t do that – oh, all right, come in, but go straight into that room there and lie down. You can have a cough sweet if you’d like. And, Miss Wong, fetch her a hot-water bottle, will you? I’m very busy right now, so please don’t be a bother!’

  ‘I’m so terribly sorry,’ I said. ‘Poor Mrs Thompson-Bates!’

  ‘Yes, it’s dreadful,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘But thank heavens she seems to be pulling through. She may yet live! Now, go on through, Miss Wells; and, Miss Wong, the kitchen is there.’

  And she went puffing away back through the door into the consultation room, leaving us absolutely stunned.

  6

  ‘She’s not going to die?’ gasped Daisy. ‘But – but – good grief, this case, Hazel!’

  ‘What do we do?’ I whispered to her.

  ‘Carry on as planned!’ breathed Daisy, setting her chin. ‘I am dying and you are fetching me a hot-water bottle – which will give you the perfect opportunity to spy on the consultation room. All right?’

  ‘All right!’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ said Daisy. ‘Now, I THINK I AM ABOUT TO FAINT!’ She moved loudly across the hallway and into the empty room that Mrs Minn had pointed to. Oddly enough, it was the very one where Daisy and I had been ill last year, during the case of Miss Bell’s murder. ‘I AM GOING TO FAINT ON THIS BED HERE. Go on, Hazel, go!’

  ‘I SHALL GET YOU A HOT-WATER BOTTLE,’ I said, nodding at her. Daisy beamed at me and threw herself down on one of the neatly made white beds, making a dreadful groaning noise. Off I went to the kitchen.

  While the water for the bottle hummed and burbled and boiled behind me, making a useful little noise, I crept towards the hatch that connects the kitchen to the consultation room where Mrs Thompson-Bates was being looked after. I could hear moans and murmurs – things did not seem to be going entirely well in there, despite what Mrs Minn had said.

  Hardly wanting to breathe, I leaned forward until my nose was almost to the closed hatch door and listened.

  At first, all I could hear were voices soothing Mrs Thompson-Bates, and Mrs Thompson-Bates herself calling out for water and retching horribly. I wanted to cover my ears and not listen at all.

  But then I heard soft footsteps moving towards the other side of the hatch, and Mrs Minn said quietly, ‘The worst danger has passed.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said a man – Mr Thompson-Bates. ‘She’ll live?’

  ‘She’ll live,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘She’s had a nasty time of it, though. She needs absolute rest and care … I understand you’ll be leaving for Wimbledon tomorrow, so is there someone else who could watch her while you’re gone?’

  ‘There’s no thought of that,’ said Mr Thompson-Bates. ‘I shall pull out. I can’t play tennis when my wife’s been taken ill. No – rest assured I shall watch her like a hawk. She won’t be alone for a minute.’

  ‘You are a good husband,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘How lucky your wife is. Now – you’re certain she couldn’t have taken this poison in error? Arsenic really is everywhere, you know. Why, only last year I had a stupid girl in here who’d tried to beautify herself by washing her face with water she’d soaked with fly papers previously.’

  I had not heard this side of Mrs Minn before. I had always thought of her as just a school nurse – but, of course, school nurses must have to know a fearful lot about illness and the things that cause it.

  ‘My wife is far too intelligent to do something like that,’ said Mr Thompson-Bates, and his voice trembled with emotion. ‘She isn’t the sort to hurt herself, either. No, someone did this to her, and it seems clear to me that it must have been someone near us before she was taken ill. Someone who was at dinner last night. After all, we were all on Mrs Rivers’ table, weren’t we? Who knows who might have seen something important? Someone in this room has a secret, and it won’t stay secret for long!’

  What was Mr Thompson-Bates trying to hint? Had he seen something – something that the Dows or Mr Stone had tried to cover up by committing murder?

  ‘You’re accusing one of us, I suppose?’ Another voice – another I had heard recently. Mr Stone.

  Mrs Thompson-Bates groaned again and I heard the rustle of her rolling over in her bed.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ said Mr Thompson-Bates. ‘But, come to think of it – you gave us a glass of fizz, didn’t you?’

  ‘I say, look here, James – you needed one! You were sharing! I was only doing the chivalrous thing.’

  ‘Please keep your voices down,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘Think of the patient!’

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘May I come in?’ called a voice I knew well – Inspector Priestley.

  The kettle screamed behind me then and I jumped, stuffing my casebook into the waistband of my dress.

  ‘The kettle must have been left unattended,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘Excuse me!’

  A moment later she was next to me, pushing me gently aside so she could fill up the hot-water bottle with practised hands.

  ‘Take this through to Miss Wells,’ she said to me. ‘Hurry up!’

  I nodded at her and hurried away to Daisy’s room, the water bottle hot in my hands and my mind whirling.

  7

  Daisy was languishing prettily on the bed, one hand on her stomach, but when she saw me come in, she popped upright, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

  ‘What is it? What did you hear?’ she whispered. ‘Come here and pretend to be … plumping my pillows, or holding my hand – whatever invalids need.’

  Daisy is dreadful at being ill. I believe she has blocked out her own real illness a few months ago. It has vanished from her mind, because it does not fit with who she is in her own head.

  ‘Mrs Thompson-Bates is going to be all right, Minny says so. But, Daisy, the Inspector just arrived next door!’ I whispered.

  I told Daisy what I had heard, and she nodded along.

  ‘So we’ve confirmed that Mr Thompson-Bates’s glass was given to him by Mr Stone!’ she said. ‘And it sounds from what Mr Thompson-Bates said about secrets that he did see the murderer in action on Saturday night!’

  I shuddered.

  ‘What do we do now? You can only keep up being ill for so much longer, before Mrs Minn send
s you away. She already thinks you’re making it up!’

  ‘Let her think it,’ said Daisy. ‘Our next step is to go back to House, to recreate the second poisoning and establish a proper plan of action for the play. It’s the moment of truth for this investigation. We have only this evening to prove who committed the crimes, and catch them in the act.’

  ‘You think they’re going to strike again?’ I gasped.

  ‘I don’t think, I know. Not only is Mr Thompson-Bates still in danger, but the murderer will act as soon as they hear that someone else saw something important during Barny’s speech this afternoon.’

  ‘But they didn’t!’ I said. ‘Did they?’

  ‘We have no way of knowing!’ said Daisy. ‘But when have we ever let that stop us? Hazel, in a moment I’m going to loudly announce to this San that I know who the poisoner is. And then we’ll see!’

  8

  ‘Come on, Hazel, come on – help me pretend to struggle getting up,’ said Daisy to me, before I had even really taken in her words. ‘Hurry!’

  ‘Daisy,’ I said, ‘Daisy, you can’t do this – it’s terribly dangerous!’

  ‘No more dangerous than the things we usually do in a murder case,’ said Daisy, dragging on my arm as she pretended to wince and lever herself up off the bed.

  ‘It absolutely is more dangerous!’ I whispered furiously. ‘This murderer has poison, and they’re slipping it into things without anyone noticing. Not even you, Daisy – you didn’t see anything, any more than the rest of us did.’

  ‘Well, someone noticed,’ said Daisy. ‘Mr Thompson-Bates!’

  ‘Yes, Daisy, and someone tried to murder him this afternoon!’

  Daisy looked at me levelly, her nose just a few inches from mine. ‘Hazel,’ she said. ‘Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to, to protect things we love. Deepdean is in distress, and we must save the day. We can’t let a poisoner just run about dosing people with arsenic, can we? We can’t let the school close down, just because we’re afraid. We have to do everything, try everything, because Deepdean matters. Anyway, if there wasn’t any danger, then it wouldn’t be so interesting. What’s the point of being alive if you mightn’t drop dead at any moment?’

  ‘The point is to stay alive,’ I muttered.

  ‘I will always stay alive,’ said Daisy. ‘I am the heroine.’

  ‘So am I!’ I said.

  ‘An interesting thought,’ said Daisy. ‘What if you were the heroine all along? No, that wouldn’t be anywhere near as good a story. Now, Hazel, we have lingered long enough. Will you help me pretend to have seen a murderer, so that we can provoke the killer into trying to murder me as well?’

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  ‘Yes,’ I said at last.

  ‘Excellent, Watson. Detective handshake, if you please.’

  We shook, and then Daisy leaned against me, stumbled into the hallway and said very loudly, ‘I FEEL QUITE BETTER, HAZEL! I THINK I CAN WALK AGAIN!’

  As we had known she would, Mrs Minn popped her head out of the other door and said, ‘What a noise! And what a surprise, Miss Wells! Would you like a biscuit before you go?’

  ‘Oh, Minny, I couldn’t manage one,’ said Daisy. ‘But – if you insist.’

  Mrs Minn brought out the tin of biscuits, and we each took one.

  ‘How IS Mrs Thompson-Bates?’ asked Daisy, her voice loud enough to worm into all the nooks and crannies of San.

  ‘She’ll live,’ said Mrs Minn. ‘Thank heavens, we caught her in time.’

  ‘I’m SO glad!’ said Daisy. ‘YOU KNOW, it’s a FUNNY THING, but I could have SWORN that earlier today, during the garden party, in fact, well – well, I saw something a bit ODD, that’s all.’

  ‘Odd, Daisy dear?’ said Mrs Minn. ‘What do you mean, odd?’

  ‘Oh, well, I don’t know,’ said Daisy. ‘I’m sure it was nothing – but I can’t quite get it out of my head! POOR Mrs Thompson-Bates!’

  Her bait had worked. Mr Thompson-Bates and Mr Stone came striding to the doorway behind Mrs Minn.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Mr Thompson-Bates asked, his fists clenched. ‘What did you see? Something to do with my wife?’

  ‘Oh, really, I don’t know, I’m not sure,’ said Daisy, darting her eyes from side to side as though she was nervous, and frightened, and rather foolish.

  ‘Come on, spit it out!’ said Mr Stone. His arms were folded and he had a sharp, angry look on his foxy face.

  Mr Dow came to stand next to him, his jaw set and a vein on his temple pulsing, and I caught sight of the very edge of Mrs Dow’s dress – she had come into San and was now hiding just behind her husband.

  ‘Out with it, girl!’ he cried.

  ‘Ooh!’ squealed Daisy. ‘Oh no, I can’t … Hazel, come on, quickly!’

  She seized my arm and marched me out into the main corridor, and I could see that she was struggling not to grin. I looked back, and saw the Inspector in the corridor next to our suspects, looking after us with a worried frown on his face, his forehead wrinkled. I felt going-down-in-a-lift, as though we had disappointed him. We should not have put ourselves in danger, I knew that, but – but Deepdean.

  ‘Who is that girl?’ I heard Mr Dow ask, and Mrs Minn said, ‘Oh, that’s the Wells child. Poor soul, she’s had a bad run of it. Fallingford, you know.’

  ‘They’ve taken the bait!’ whispered Daisy to me. She had noticed the Inspector’s expression. ‘Now we must prepare to set our trap!’

  9

  Beanie, Kitty and Lavinia were waiting for us in the cloakroom. We told them what had happened, and they all gasped.

  ‘I know!’ said Daisy, beaming. ‘Wasn’t it clever of me?’

  ‘But what if you die?’ asked Kitty. I flinched.

  ‘What do we do now?’ asked Beanie.

  ‘Well,’ said Daisy, ‘we’ll be sent back up to House soon, I’m sure, and then we’ll have an hour or so before we have to be down for the play again. It must go ahead, it must, despite this afternoon. It wouldn’t be – it wouldn’t be Deepdean if Miss Barnard just gave up. I move that we use that time to recreate the second crime scene, to see if we can narrow down our final two suspects to one.’

  ‘All right!’ piped Beanie. ‘We can do it, I’m sure of it!’

  But I turned to Daisy while the other three were talking excitedly.

  ‘Do you really think we’ll be able to solve it in time?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course!’ said Daisy. ‘We solve impossible cases every few months, Hazel. You ought to have more faith in yourself and me by this time. We are simply brilliant, and we always will be.’

  ‘You don’t really mean that,’ I said.

  Daisy’s face fell. ‘I don’t know that I do,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t know what to think, Hazel. I feel – I feel not invincible. What if we can’t save Deepdean? What if we fail?’

  She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. And I am not sure who was more afraid.

  But when we were finally allowed back up to House, we were stopped in the front hall for an announcement. Miss Barnard was standing next to Matron, underneath the big House clock, looking more shaken than I had ever seen her.

  ‘Girls,’ she said. ‘I want to speak to you about the dreadful event that marred this afternoon’s festivities. I am glad to be able to say that Mrs Thompson-Bates will make a full recovery – she is safe, and she will be well. But it seems that her illness may be connected to the tragedy that occurred during Saturday’s gala dinner. Because of this, I understand that some of your parents have decided to take you away before tonight’s play. I understand, and I – I apologize that I have not been able to keep Deepdean a place of safety for you. I have decided that the play will not be cancelled, but – but I fear that this may be the last anniversary Deepdean has. It is possible that our school will not open again in the autumn. Do you understand?’

  There were gasps and sobs.

  ‘But – it can’t close, Miss Barnard!’ Daisy cried. ‘It ca
n’t!’

  ‘Quiet, Wells, listen to your headmistress,’ snapped Matron.

  Daisy bowed her head, but I could see her hands clenching at her sides.

  ‘What can we do?’ asked one of the Big Girls.

  ‘Nothing, I fear,’ said Miss Barnard, ‘except be a credit to the school, as you always are. I am proud of you, girls, and I am sorry for everything that has happened this weekend. It is not your fault, and I am sorry that you are being affected by it. You may go now.’

  10

  We staggered up to the dorm, horrified.

  ‘What do we do? What do we do?’ Beanie kept whispering.

  ‘We mustn’t give up!’ said Daisy fiercely. ‘Nothing has ever mattered more than this. We must solve this case – Deepdean itself is at stake!’

  ‘I wouldn’t care,’ said Lavinia. ‘I hate this school!’

  ‘No you don’t,’ I said, despair sparking in me. ‘You love to hate it. Imagine if Deepdean wasn’t here. What would you do then? You’d have to be at home with Patricia, or at another school. And we might not be there with you! If Deepdean closes, I might have to go home to Hong Kong and never come back. I might never see any of you again. Everything would be over. I couldn’t – I couldn’t …’

  Tears were stinging my eyes.

  ‘Hazel!’ cried Beanie, and she threw her arms around me. Kitty and Lavinia followed suit, but Daisy stood stiffly away from us. Her face was twisted up and her eyes were glittering.

  ‘I won’t hear it,’ she said. ‘I won’t have you SAY those things, Hazel! You won’t have to go anywhere, none of us will, because we will triumph. We have to! Detective Society, stop behaving like wet shrimps and pull yourselves together at once. We have a crime to recreate! Hazel, you – you stop crying and pretend to be Mrs Thompson-Bates at the party. I shall be Mr Thompson-Bates. Kitty can be Mr Dow. Beanie, you be Mrs Dow, and Lavinia can be Mr Stone. Everyone, collect your tooth mugs to be glasses of fizz. I will direct the re-creation. Remember, the goal is for Lavinia, Kitty and Beanie to try to put something in my tooth mug without me noticing. Ready?’