Kapow! Just like that! Mr Wilson says the moral is that a guilty conscience will always be discovered. Though I think it probably helps a lot if the guilty party is a bit stupid, too, and has very little idea about the physical properties of sticks.
Back in class, Cuddles the hamster is making his usual racket. Cuddles is the most misleadingly named animal of all time. Cuddles doesn’t like being cuddled. Cuddles doesn’t like being touched. Cuddles doesn’t even like being looked at. Cuddles mainly likes legging it round and round in his wheel, throwing himself at the bars of his cage and biting anyone crazy enough to put their fingers anywhere near him. Cuddles pretty much hates everybody except Josh Ryman, who as a consequence is permanent Hamster Monitor. Cuddles and Josh get along just fine, because Cuddles is basically just Josh in hamster form.
I’m returning from a pencil-sharpening expedition to the bin when I first sense that something is not right. I stop in the middle of the classroom trying to work out what it is.
‘Are you alright, Lisa?’ calls out Miss Casey.
‘Hmm?’ I scan the room.
‘Are you quite alright? You seem rather lost.’
Then I see it! I keep my eyes on the spot and speak slowly. ‘Have you taken it, Miss Casey?’
‘Taken what, dear?’
‘Did you take it to count? To check how close we are to the target?’
‘Count what? I’ve done nothing but photocopy all breaktime, I’m afraid.’
‘The money from the “Christine Aisley Dream Come True” collection box, Miss. It’s gone.’
Suddenly everyone’s talking and shouting and, for once, Miss Casey doesn’t even bother trying to clap, but instead actually climbs up on her desk and shouts louder than she ever has, ‘Silence! Nobody move from their seat.’
She gets down and walks over to the empty plastic box on the wall. The padlock hangs open. She takes her keys from her pocket and looks at them.
‘Someone has removed the key to the padlock from my key ring.’ She looks around the class slowly. ‘Children, this is a serious matter. A large amount of money has been taken. I can’t bring myself to think that any of you would have done this but, if one of you did, the time to speak is now, before this goes further. Maybe it was a dare. Maybe it was a joke. Whatever the case, we can help. I perhaps should remind you that this money is for Kieron’s sister, a very seriously ill girl. If anyone has any information about this theft: speak now.’
The room is silent, no one moves. Miss Casey waits and waits. The clock ticks. Eventually, she turns to me and says in a quiet voice, ‘Lisa, go and fetch Mr Wilson.’
Mr Wilson comes, then the deputy head, Mrs Hafiz, and then Mrs Garvey, the school secretary, joins in, too. Mrs Hafiz and Mrs Garvey check the cloakrooms and toilets and Mr Wilson and Miss Casey carry out a search of our bags and desks. After they finish, Mr Wilson speaks to us.
‘Well, Class 6B. This is a very sorry day indeed. Despite our best efforts we have not found the missing money. And, despite our urgent enquiries, no one appears to be willing or able to shed any light on this disappearance.’ He gives a little cough. ‘Miss Casey, it seems, cannot be completely clear about when the key might have gone missing.’ Miss Casey sits with her head bowed in the corner of the room. ‘Miss Casey often leaves her keys on her desk as she has never had any reason to distrust anyone in the school.’ He looks slowly around the room. ‘This has been a painful lesson for her and many of the rest of us, I’m sure. I must ask you one last time, children, does anyone have anything they want to say?’
There’s a long, unbearable silence and then, to gasps of disbelief, Lauren Pettigrew raises her arm.
‘Lauren,’ Mr Wilson says gravely, ‘what is it you want to tell me?’
Lauren has tears running down her face. ‘Mr Wilson, sir, are we all going to prison?’
‘No, Lauren, all of Class 6B is not going to prison.’
But Lauren has opened the floodgates. Now lots of hands go up and Mr Wilson is inundated with questions and comments. None of them, it soon becomes apparent, are in any way relevant to the investigation.
‘Will the school trip be cancelled?’
‘Someone stole my pencil sharpener in Year 4.’
‘There’s a Chinese takeaway on my street called Great Wall of China – maybe we could take Christine there instead.’
‘I can’t find my trainers.’
‘Will Miss Casey be sacked?’
Eventually, Mr Wilson calls order.
‘That will be enough for now, Class 6B. I appreciate that this is a distressing time for all of you but the facts remain: a large sum of money has gone missing. We don’t know who took it or even when. In the absence of anyone having any specific answers to those questions, I have no alternative now but to return to my office and call the police.’
Chapter Twelve
Peggoty is a big, fat, furry white fluffball of a cat who lies on the doorstep of Meacham’s sweet shop every single day so that she can soak up the afternoon sun. Max thinks Meacham’s is the best thing about living in New Heath. It’s the greatest sweet shop she’s ever known. It’s an old-fashioned kind of place with a bell on the door and that still sells sweets in jars. Mr Meacham wears a funny kind of long brown jacket, as if being a shopkeeper is a job that requires a uniform. All the kids from New Heath go to Meacham’s every day. They say the shop’s been there so long that Mr Meacham used to serve their mums and dads when they were kids, too.
Max goes along every day, even though she never has any money. She goes because she likes looking at the sweets in the window even if she can’t have them and because Peggoty is the closest thing she’s ever had to a pet. She likes to sit on the step and talk to the cat in a low voice, telling her about her day. She rubs behind her ears and makes her purr her low, growly purr. Sometimes Mr Meacham has even come out and given Max a little striped paper bag of peanut brittle or pear drops. The first time he did it, Max was embarrassed. She said she’d forgotten her purse and couldn’t pay, but Mr Meacham said the sweets were payment for looking after Peggoty.
Max is tickling Peggoty’s tummy when Lori comes out of the shop and sits down next to her.
‘Coconut mushroom?’
Max takes one. ‘Thanks.’ She chews for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, she seems to make up her mind. ‘Lori, there’s something I want to tell you.’
‘Is it to invite me to another party? Only Nan said it’s quite unusual to have no food and be back home forty-five minutes after arriving, so if it’s going to be like that can you let me know so that I have some tea before I come.’
‘It’s not another party.’
‘OK.’
‘It’s sort of to do with that, though.’
Lori gets up. ‘Can we walk? The cat makes me sneeze.’
Max gives Peggoty a final rub and then gets up and falls into step alongside Lori.
‘Well … so … the first thing you need to know is that I’ve never been expelled from a school in my life.’
Lori turns to look at her. ‘What do you mean?’
She shrugs. ‘Not once.’
‘But you’ve been to loads of schools. I’ve lost count of the ones you’ve mentioned.’
‘Yeah, I definitely have. But I was never expelled. We just always move on.’
‘Why? Why do you keep changing schools?’
‘It’s not just schools. We move area, city, town, house, flat.’
‘Oh, are you travellers? Shouldn’t you have a caravan?’
‘No, we’re not travellers. We haven’t got a caravan. Do you know what gambling is?’
‘Yes, course. It’s like the lottery, the Grand National, that kind of thing. Like my nan playing bingo sometimes.’
‘Yeah, that kind of thing. Forget about the lottery and bingo, though. Horses maybe sometimes, dogs sometimes, but mainly cards. I’m talking about my dad, you see. My dad likes to gamble. Or maybe he doesn’t like it, but he does it anyway, all the time. I don’t kno
w why because he’s really rubbish at it. He gambles a lot and he loses a lot and then he borrows money and then he can’t pay it back and then he gets scared of the men he’s borrowed the money from and he wakes us in the middle of the night and tells us to put all our stuff in a bin bag because we’re going to live somewhere new.’
‘What? He runs away?’
‘Of course he does.’
‘Do the men ever catch him?’
‘Twice. Once he was lucky. He’d just had a big win when they found him and he gave them everything. It was three times what he owed them, but they took it all … and our car, which was an old banger but still…’
‘And the other time?’
‘Not so lucky. He was in hospital for a long time. He’s had a limp ever since.’
Lori’s eyes are wide. ‘What did the police say?’
‘You don’t go to the police, Lori. You’re not allowed to tell tales. If you tell on the bad men … well … things get worse.’
‘But what about your mum? Why doesn’t she stop him?’
‘She can’t stop him. He has to stop himself. Anyway, she’s not well.’
‘Oh, sorry. What’s the matter with her?’
Max sighs. ‘I don’t know really. She just has a lot of bad days. Gets depressed. Not like a bit sad-depressed, more like she can’t move or do anything. Dad’s always giving her pills. He says they make her feel better but they just make her sleep all the time. She’s too ill to work. He collects all her benefits. Sometimes I think he actually likes her being sick because he gets her money. My dad scrounges and steals off everyone.’ She kicks a stone along the road. ‘That’s why there was no party. No takeaway. He gambled all his winnings away again. He made a promise but he broke it. That’s what he does.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I just didn’t know how to explain it all last night.’
Lori’s quiet for a while and then says, ‘Why don’t you tell Miss Casey? She’s nice. She’d help.’
‘No,’ Max shakes her head furiously. ‘No grown-ups. I’m serious. You’ve got to promise. That’s why it’s a secret. I’m fine. I can look after myself, but they’d take me away from my mum, get someone else to look after me and then who’d look after her? You can’t tell anyone. Please.’
Lori looks at her for a while and then nods. ‘OK. I won’t tell. I promise.’ They’ve come to a stop outside a big, old house. ‘Anyway, this is where I live. I’d better go.’ She starts walking up the path and then stops and turns back. ‘Don’t suppose you want to come in for a bit, do you?’
Lori’s kitchen and dining room are bigger than Max’s entire flat. There are pictures and books everywhere. Max wonders if this is what most houses look like. She’s not been in many other people’s homes. The only houses she’s ever visited belonged to her dad’s mates, and they weren't really mates – just people he owed money to. Max doesn’t have any grandparents but Lori’s nan is definitely not how Max ever imagined nans to be. She wears a bright-pink baseball cap while she cooks. It says ‘Party Girl’ in diamante on the front. Max likes her. For tea she makes them spaghetti Bolognese followed by banana splits, with three flavours of ice cream. And squirty cream. And cherries and almonds. Max thinks Nan might be one of the finest chefs in the world.
After tea they go up to Lori’s room – or her office as she calls it. Max gets a shock when she opens the door. Everything in the room is painted the colour of custard.
‘Wow!’ says Max. ‘Is this what all detective’s offices look like?’
‘Not exactly,’ says Lori. ‘Try and imagine a different colour scheme … and no rainbows … or unicorns.’ She walks over to her desk and pulls out what looks like two phones.
‘These are genuine detective equipment, though.’
‘What? Your nan lets you have a phone?’
‘No. She says I’m still too young. These aren’t phones. These are Kommunicator 150 walkie-talkies. Nan got me them from a car boot sale. They have a range of three kilometres!’
Max can’t help picking one up and pressing the button:
‘Roger, Charlie, Foxtrot. Calling Detective Mason. Do you read me, Mason?’
‘Reading you loud and clear, Ellington, over.’
‘What do you use them for?’ Max asks.
‘Well, they’re for surveillance operations, but I haven’t had the chance yet. I haven’t really got anyone to use them with, except Nan, and she just uses them to tell me my tea is ready, or ask if I’ve seen her glasses, that kind of stuff.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘Why don’t you take one home? You can do surveillance on New Heath high street and keep me posted on Rooster Party anti-social behaviour and local wrongdoing in general.’
‘Are you worrying about the litter again?’
‘Crime always starts small, Max. You begin by dropping litter, you end up involved in international diamond smuggling.’
Max grins and winks. ‘Alright, I’ll keep them peeled.’
She puts the walkie-talkie in her pocket and pulls out her snake charm.
‘What’s that?’ asks Lori.
‘It’s my lucky charm.’
‘A snake? Lucky?’
‘Yeah! Very. You ever heard of the Scarlet Kingsnake?’
Lori shakes her head.
‘They live in America. They’re non-venomous. Harmless. Just these defenceless, dangly things that any other mean snake or bird can kill and eat whenever they want. But nobody picks on the Scarlet Kingsnake, because they look like the most poisonous snake you ever saw. They’re red and yellow and black like a big warning sign shouting, “Danger. Keep Away!” It’s all just an act. But it works.’
‘Oh … right,’ says Lori.
‘See, I used to go to this school. Addington Road it was called and it was a dump. The kids there didn’t like me. Said I was dirty. Said I had fleas. Stupid songs and rhymes every day. Thing is – they were right. I was dirty. We didn’t have a washing machine in the flat so I’d have to try and get money off Dad for the launderette and that wasn’t always easy. It’s not like I wanted to be that way. But, anyway, I got picked on. Punched and kicked sometimes. I was so glad when we had to run away from that place, but then I knew the next school would be the same and the one after that and that I was always going to be that girl. The one everyone laughed at or punched. And that’s when I read about the Kingsnake.
‘After that I stopped hiding in corners hoping no one would notice me. I didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that my hair wasn’t clean. No point. Everyone saw through all that. Instead I’d make it look so mad it was scary. And I wouldn’t say, “Oh poor me – I had to leave my last school, I’ve got no friends.” I’d tell everyone I was expelled, because I was the meanest, baddest girl around. And now maybe some people might still call me names, and they might talk about me behind my back, but they keep out of my way and they don’t dare lay a finger on me. Nobody messes with Max Ellington any more.’
Lori looks at her and a big smile breaks out on her face. ‘Max … you’re totally undercover. Just like me.’
Chapter Thirteen
Two police officers turned up after the theft. I was expecting blue tape across the classroom door; scene of crime officers dusting for fingerprints; I thought we’d at least all be questioned and tape- recorded, maybe even given lie detector tests. I wondered if some senior police officer might even pick up on my evident expertise and ask me to help with the investigation. But nothing at all happened. It was very disappointing. Then, this morning, Mr Wilson calls me into his office.
‘Lori,’ he says – he’s quite good at remembering names – ‘Miss Casey tells me that you are the only member of class who is absolutely sure that the money was in the collection box on Tuesday morning.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because I saw it, sir.’ This seems obvious to me, but he nods as if it’s, in fact, a very interesting answer.
‘The thing is, Lori, sometimes it’s hard to know exactly when we
see things. Especially things that we see every single day. Sometimes we can be very sure we’ve seen something, but really we just assume that we’ve seen it, because we always do. Does that make sense?’
Lori and Max Page 5