Fracture

by C. J. Daugherty

Allie dressed quickly and hurried out. The hallways were quiet; it was Saturday – most students would be playing games or lazing around chatting. Some would be out in the cold kicking a football around. A low rumble of voices and laughter tumbled through the open common-room door.

  For a fleeting, melancholy moment, Allie missed normal student life. It would be so good to be someone else for a while.

  She broke into a jog, speeding down the wide hallway to the library.

  Walking through the library door was like entering a different school. A hospital hush hung over the room. Thick Persian rugs absorbed sound below while, above, high ceilings made small noises disappear. The effect was as if the room was wrapped in cotton wool.

  The acrid scent of smoke from last summer’s fire had long since dissipated; now the room smelled only of old leather books, nineteenth-century ink and wood polish.

  All the bookcases looked identical but she knew that many of those at the front of the room were replicas, made precisely like the original shelves that towered into the dimness above her head. Even the new rolling ladders were identical to the originals.

  In fact, every bit of physical damage Nathaniel had done to the building had been repaired; Allie knew she should find that comforting. But right now nothing made her feel any better.

  When she noticed a slim, bespectacled man in Eloise’s usual seat, her stomach tightened. It seemed so callous just to replace her as if she was already found guilty. As if she was disposable.

  As she walked up to the desk, she recognised him as one of the lower-form English teachers, and she fought to quell her temper. It wasn’t his fault. Probably.

  Still, she had to challenge him. She wanted to see if he would lie to her face.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Do you know where Eloise is?’

  He set down the cards he’d been filing – the look on his face told her that, while she might not remember his name, he knew precisely who she was.

  ‘I’m afraid she’s in meetings,’ he said with impeccable politeness. ‘All weekend.’

  The combination of his lies and good manners set her nerves on edge. He must know precisely where Eloise was and what she was going through but he didn’t care at all.

  What a wanker.

  ‘Awesome,’ she said coldly. ‘I was afraid something bad might have happened to her.’

  Without waiting for his reaction she spun on her heel and hurried to a dim section at the edge of the room. Rachel was right where she’d known she’d be. Glasses on the end of her nose, long hair twisted into a messy knot at the base of her neck and held in place with a pencil, one end of which pointed up like an antenna.

  She’d been surprised by the ease with which Nicole accepted her request to include Rachel. Since she wasn’t in Night School, she’d expected some objections.

  ‘Including her will break most of The Rules,’ Allie had pointed out, but Nicole only shrugged.

  ‘We’ll be breaking so many of The Rules I don’t think it matters. If we get caught we’ll all be expelled anyway.’

  ‘Hey,’ Allie said now, sliding into the seat across from Rachel.

  ‘Oh good!’ Rachel peered up at her. ‘Are you here for your flogging… I mean, science tutoring?’

  When Allie didn’t joke back, Rachel narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s up? Something’s happened, I can tell. Your nose is doing that thing.’

  Warily, Allie reached up to touch the end of her nose. It didn’t feel like it was doing anything.

  ‘What thing?’ she asked, before deciding it didn’t matter. ‘Look, something’s happened…’

  ‘I knew it.’ Rachel sounded smug. ‘The nose never lies.’

  Trying to get her to focus, Allie leaned forward. ‘I need your help.’ Nobody was sitting at any of the tables around them but, still, Allie half covered her mouth as she spoke. ‘You’re not going to like any of what I’m about to tell you.’

  ‘Uh-oh.’ Rachel took off her glasses.

  ‘Eloise is in trouble and she needs our help.’

  All traces of humour left Rachel’s expression. ‘What happened?’

  Allie looked around at the other tables. ‘Come with me.’

  Leaving Rachel’s books on the table, they headed to a dark corner of the library in the Ancient Greek section – no one was ever back there. Every step of the way Allie worried that Rachel would refuse what she was about to ask of her.

  She hated Night School and all of Cimmeria’s darker side. She’d tried to convince Allie not to join. But the library was her favourite place in the world and, to her, Eloise was the library. Allie knew emphasising the librarian’s plight would help convince her to get involved, but she felt like a traitor for doing it.

  This was everything Rachel loathed about the school and Allie was taking her right into the middle of it.

  Quickly Allie told her what had happened last night – the knife in the wall. Nathaniel. Gabe. When she explained that somebody at the school was helping them, Rachel made a choking sound and half turned away.

  ‘I was so afraid of that,’ she said after a second. ‘Something my dad said a while ago clued me in that it could be one of us. Who do they think it is?’

  Allie held her gaze. ‘Right now? They think it’s Eloise.’

  Curling her hands into fists, Rachel swore quietly. Allie couldn’t remember her ever using a couple of those words before.

  ‘The thing is, we’re pretty sure it’s not her,’ she continued. ‘But we need your help to prove it. Rach, I know how much you hate this stuff but… will you help me?’

  For a long moment, Rachel didn’t speak. When she looked up, her almond-shaped eyes were dark with worry.

  ‘What do you need me to do?’

  The rest was easy.

  Allie insisted Zoe be included because even though she was young she was also fast and smart. Best of all, she was innocuous – she could slip in and out of a room without anybody noticing. Nobody paid attention to a kid.

  Nicole did her part – bringing Carter and Sylvain into the group.

  When Jules’ name came up in her discussion with Nicole, Allie shook her head. She just couldn’t deal with the Carter–Jules love-nest right now.

  And Nicole, to her surprise, refused Lucas without explanation.

  ‘I don’t want him in the team,’ she’d said when pressed.

  ‘Come on, Nicole,’ Allie had said. ‘He’s Rachel’s boyfriend. He’s safe.’

  But Nicole just shook her head and Allie had to drop it. No Lucas.

  So that was the group: six people to find the spy Cimmeria’s best instructors had failed to locate.

  The first step was simple enough. They were to meet at midnight in the crypt beneath the girls’ dorm.

  After that things would get harder.

  At three minutes to midnight, Allie tapped sharply on the wall separating her room from Rachel’s. After a pause, one faint tap came back.

  Time to go.

  Her door swung open without a sound. Slipping out, she closed it with an expert flick of her wrist. The click as the latch caught was almost imperceptible.

  The long, narrow corridor was empty and dark. Rachel’s door was shut tight.

  Clutching her torch in one hand, Allie bounced on her toes impatiently, careful not to make a sound. ‘Come on, Rach…’ she whispered under her breath.

  For a few endless seconds nothing happened. Then Rachel’s door opened with a creak.

  She emerged slowly, her reluctance clear in every movement. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders slumped.

  Allie knew how much Rachel didn’t want to do this but she willed her to do it anyway – she needed her.

  Tilting her head to indicate Rachel should follow her, Allie headed down the hall without a word. The heating had been turned down and the building groaned and clicked around them as it settled into the cold winter night.

  The door near the end of the corridor looked like an ordinary utility closet but swung open to reveal one
of the old servants’ staircases hidden within Cimmeria’s walls. In Victorian times, this would have been how housemaids slipped around the building to perform their chores unseen. Now they were largely forgotten.

  A cool draught blew through the open door, making the hairs on Allie’s arms stand on end. After a glance over her shoulder to make sure Rachel was with her, she switched on her torch and headed down.

  Four storeys lower, the narrow, winding, stone staircase deposited them in a large, low-ceilinged space. The limestone floors and walls acted like a refrigerator – it was freezing. It was also empty. And it shouldn’t be.

  Allie’s hackles rose. Something was wrong.

  She swung her torch around the room – the beam illuminating ghostly stone columns bearing the marks of ancient chisels, like scratches made by claws.

  A shuffling noise arose behind them, as if the light had awakened something.

  Allie whirled, pulling Rachel behind her and dropping into a low, defensive crouch, holding her torch like a truncheon.

  ‘This is so awesome,’ Zoe whispered, turning on her torch. ‘Best idea ever.’

  Allie sagged, the adrenaline flooding out of her. ‘Bloody hell, Zoe. Why didn’t you say something earlier? You scared me to death.’

  ‘Hi, Allie. I’m here. Right where you told me to be.’ Zoe’s cheerful tone segued swiftly into alarm. ‘Blimey, Rachel, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should sit down.’

  Looking back, Allie saw that Rachel’s complexion had gone an odd pale green.

  ‘Rachel!’

  ‘Totally fine,’ Rachel insisted, wobbling.

  Taking her arm, Allie navigated her towards a dusty crate. ‘Let’s sit you down. You look like you’re going to be sick.’

  ‘Just… startled.’ Rachel’s voice was faint. ‘Thought we were dead. Nothing major.’

  ‘Put your head between your knees,’ Zoe ordered.

  ‘What’s wrong with Rachel?’ Sylvain emerged from a corridor as nothing more than a bright torch beam with a French accent.

  ‘Zoe scared us.’ Allie glared at the younger girl accusingly. ‘Rachel had a heart attack.’

  ‘Not a heart attack, exactly,’ Rachel murmured, her voice muffled as her face was still pressed against her knees. ‘But my life did flash before my eyes. I’m really sorry about Robert Peterson.’

  They all stared at her.

  ‘Who’s Robert Peterson?’ Allie and Zoe asked at the same time.

  ‘I know him,’ Nicole said, ducking through the same doorway Allie and Rachel had just used. ‘He was in my physics class last year. A super student with very thick spectacles.’

  ‘I kissed him once,’ Rachel said. ‘He slobbered.’

  ‘Gross,’ Zoe said, looking repulsed.

  Nicole just shrugged. ‘And yet you are alive.’

  ‘Somehow,’ Rachel conceded.

  ‘Where’s Carter?’ Nicole asked looking around the vault-like space.

  ‘I’m here.’ They all turned as Carter’s torch appeared through the corridor, gradually brightening as he neared them. Allie pointed her torch at him until they could see the shape of his body in the dark.

  ‘Then we are all present.’ Nicole’s voice was solemn. ‘Let’s begin.’

  FIFTEEN

  T

  hey gathered in a circle on the dusty floor. The only light came from their torches. It occurred to Allie they looked as if they should be playing a party game – ‘I Never’ or ‘Spin the Bottle’.

  But this was a very different kind of game.

  Looking around the circle of familiar faces watching her expectantly, she knew they wanted the same things she did. Answers. Resolution. Justice.

  She couldn’t give them that.

  ‘You all know why we’re here.’ Her voice echoed off the cold stone walls. ‘After what happened last night, I –’ With a glance at Nicole she corrected herself. ‘Nicole and I – we don’t think Isabelle and the others are on the right track. We want to figure out who the spy really is. So we’ve mapped out where everyone was when all the stuff happened.’ The others looked at her expectantly. ‘We still don’t know who the spy is. But we think we know who it isn’t.’

  She leaned back and the French girl scooted forward. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a sleek ponytail at the nape of her neck; when it caught the torchlight it gleamed like granite.

  ‘We started from the basis that we do not think the spy is a student,’ Nicole began. ‘Only the most senior Night School students have the kind of access this person has. So… it would have to be one of us.’ She swung her torch slowly around the circle, illuminating their faces one after another. ‘And I don’t think it is.’

  ‘Why not?’

  It was Rachel who spoke, and they all turned to stare at her.

  ‘What do you mean why not?’ Surprise made Allie’s voice squeak.

  Rachel shrugged. ‘It could be one of us. We don’t follow each other constantly.’

  Alone among them, Nicole did not seem surprised by this. ‘Yes. So, just in case, I researched each of us. Each time something happened, I could account for where we all were. When the knife was found in the chapel, not one of us could have done it. You’ – she pointed at Rachel – ‘were in the library.’ Rachel nodded. ‘Allie, Zoe and I were together. Carter and Sylvain were also there, along with Jules and Lucas and every single Night School student,’ she said. ‘And I have worked this out for the other incidents as well. At no time could the same senior student have done these three things. It is not one of us.’

  ‘It’s one of the teachers.’ Carter’s voice sounded hollow.

  Even though she had worked this out with Nicole that morning, hearing it said made Allie’s heart turn to ice in her chest. And she could see by the looks on the faces around her she wasn’t alone. Sylvain had his head in his hands. Rachel looked drawn. Even Zoe appeared troubled, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her brow creased.

  ‘Yes,’ Nicole said quietly. ‘It has to be one of the Night School instructors. Someone very close to Isabelle. They have the freedom, the access and their time is more difficult to track.’

  ‘Then why couldn’t it be Eloise?’ Zoe asked, frowning.

  Allie thought of that sheet of paper on the bed this morning. Eloise’s name with a line drawn through it. The strange mixture of disappointment and relief she’d felt.

  ‘Eloise was with us right before the knife was found,’ she explained. ‘Whoever placed it in the chapel did it between the time when the other Night School students passed and when we came by later – otherwise someone would have seen it. Eloise didn’t have time to get there and arrange it all before we arrived. So if no one intruded on to the campus last night – and Raj says they didn’t – it couldn’t be her.’

  As they absorbed this, Nicole swung her torch in a little circle. ‘Blaming her for it is… how do you say? Theatre.’

  The temperature seemed to drop further in the cold crypt.

  ‘If that’s true then one of the teachers accusing her is actually the one working for Nathaniel,’ Sylvain said.

  ‘It would make sense,’ Rachel said. ‘They’ll stop looking if they all believe the spy is Eloise.’

  Allie nodded. ‘And while they’re not looking, the real spy could be doing…’

  Nicole finished the thought for her. ‘Anything.’

  Zoe, her face scrunched up with thought, was trying to work it all out. ‘If we’re right about Eloise then that means the spy is either Zelazny, Isabelle, Jerry or Raj —’

  ‘It’s not my dad.’

  Rachel’s voice was sharp, and the others swung around to look at her.

  ‘Rachel’s right,’ Allie said. ‘No way is it Raj. He loves this place and Isabelle too much. And it can’t be Isabelle for obvious reasons.’

  ‘Could it be one of Raj’s senior guards?’ Sylvain asked. ‘A few of them have full access.’

  But Nicole had thought of this, too. ‘Three guards are allowed acc
ess,’ she said. ‘Only two of them were working here the night Ruth was killed.’

  The cellar fell silent. The list of possible spies was very short now.

  ‘That leaves Zelazny, Jerry or one of Raj’s senior guards.’ Carter ticked the names off on his fingers with solemn deliberation. ‘And Raj picks his guards very carefully.’

  Sylvain looked like he’d been punched. ‘I just don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘It must be one of the guards. It’s impossible Jerry or Zelazny would do this. Impossible.’