Amanda Lester and the Gold Spectacles Surprise

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Amanda Lester and the Gold Spectacles Surprise Page 26

by Paula Berinstein

“I’m sure he’s fine,” said Amanda.

  “Well I’m not,” said Amphora. “Ramon, honey, take the glasses off.” She reached for the specs.

  Nothing.

  She yanked the glasses from his face. Binnie snatched them out of her hand. He blinked and looked into her eyes. “Hullo, Amphora.”

  “Are you all right?” she said.

  “I’m always all right,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him. Amanda felt like she was about to gag. Ramon turned to her and said, “I want to try the glasses, Amanda. It’s my right.”

  “But you just did,” said Amphora.

  “I most certainly did not,” said Ramon. “Give them to me.”

  “If you didn’t try them what are those red marks on the bridge of your nose?” said Amanda.

  “What red marks?” said Ramon.

  “Go and look,” said Amphora. “Honestly, you did. It was amazing.”

  “Are you telling me I went into a trance?” said Ramon.

  “Exactly,” said Ivy.

  “What did I say?” said Ramon.

  “Here,” said Clive, sticking his phone in Ramon’s face. “See for yourself.”

  When Ramon saw the video of himself chanting words from The Detective’s Bible he got so excited he raced to his room and brought out every ghost hunting device he owned.

  “Do you realize I just spoke to Lovelace Earful?” he said picking through his tools.

  “It wasn’t Earful,” said Amanda, sighing.

  “Of course it was,” said Ramon, settling on something that looked like a cross between a theremin and a joystick. “Who else would know every word of The Detective’s Bible?”

  “Micajah Splunk,” she said.

  “Who?” said Ramon.

  “Your ancestor. Earful’s partner.”

  “I have an ancestor named Micajah?” said Ramon. “I don’t think so.”

  “You do,” said Ivy. “Look in the archives.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Ramon. “My ancestors come from Colchester. They do psychic work for the police.”

  “Further back,” said Amanda, who was surprised that Ramon was unfamiliar with his own ancestry. Perhaps his parents had suppressed the information. Micajah was rather a scandalous person.

  “I don’t know how you think you know more about my family than I do,” said Ramon.

  “Fine,” said Amanda. “Then who was your great-great-grandfather?”

  “Theosiphus Splunk,” said Ramon. “He was a spiritualist who worked with Conan Doyle.”

  “Nope,” said Amanda. “He knew Doyle, but that wasn’t his name and he wasn’t a spiritualist.”

  “You really do envy me, don’t you?” said Ramon.

  Amanda didn’t want to antagonize him so she said, “Of course I do. But that’s not the point. Go up to the archives and read about your family. I didn’t make this up.”

  “Fine,” said Ramon, “Come with me and I’ll prove you’re wrong.”

  “Okay,” said Amanda. “You’re on.”

  When Ramon discovered that his ancestor was not, in fact, Theosiphus but Micajah, the estranged business partner of Lovelace Earful, he became so excited that he forgot all about his argument with Amanda.

  “I need to contact Micajah right away,” he said. “We must get information that only he knows.” He began to race off, then suddenly stopped. “Amanda,” he said, “you have no idea what this means to me.” And then he did the worst thing you can imagine: he kissed her.

  Lila hit the Stop button with a flourish, then watched her lover throw back his head and laugh. What a powerful neck he had. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  “You recorded that?” he said. He reached out and caressed her cheek.

  “Every word,” she replied with a smirk.

  26

  Moriarty’s Secret

  When the kids reviewed Ramon’s video they figured out that there was more to what he’d said than just The Detective’s Bible. They learned that there was indeed a Criminal’s Bible (the one Amanda had seen Taffeta burn) and that the glasses were Earful’s secret, not Moriarty’s. It seemed that James Moriarty had stolen them from Earful when he killed him.

  The question of what had happened to Professor Scribbish was even more intriguing though. At first they thought the glasses might contain The Detective’s Bible and other secrets and you just needed the right person to retrieve it all. But then something astonishing happened that turned that theory on its head.

  As Amanda was sitting by the teacher’s bedside she heard him say, “Amboy.”

  “What was that, Professor?” she said.

  “He wanted Amboy,” he said as if in a trance.

  “Who wanted Amboy?” Was he talking about Blixus’s twin?

  “My father,” he said. “He didn’t like it when I changed.”

  He was making no sense.

  “Did you know Amboy when you were a little boy?” said Amanda. He was about the right age to have been a contemporary.

  “I knew him well,” said Professor Scribbish.

  “What was he like?” said Amanda.

  “Very smart,” said Professor Scribbish. “My papa loved him.”

  Amanda couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. “Your father knew him too? Was he a neighbor?”

  “Of course my father knew him. He was his father.”

  Those glasses must have done a real number on him. He was out of his mind.

  “Your father was Amboy’s father?”

  “Of course he was. I’m Amboy.”

  Amanda sat up straight. “What do you mean you’re Amboy?”

  “I wanted to be. But I couldn’t always be him. After the transplant . . . I just felt different.”

  “You were ill?” said Amanda.

  “The leukemia.”

  Amanda’s heart started to beat faster. Amboy Moriarty had died of leukemia when he was twelve. He might very well have had bone marrow transplants. Had Professor Scribbish watched his friend—or neighbor—die? If so, it must have been traumatic for him.

  “He didn’t want me after that. So she sent me away.”

  “Who didn’t want you?” said Amanda.

  “My father. Sean Moriarty.” He seemed uncomfortable.

  His father, Sean Moriarty? Was Professor Scribbish suffering from survivor’s guilt—a guilt so acute that he identified with Amboy?

  “Your father was Sean Moriarty?”

  He turned his head away. “Yes.”

  Amanda took out her phone and texted Ivy and Clive. Then she began to record.

  “Who are you?” she said firmly. She didn’t want to browbeat him but she wanted to make sure she got a straight answer.

  “Amboy,” he said.

  “Amboy Moriarty?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he’s dead,” she said trying to keep her voice steady. “He died when he was twelve.”

  “I thought so too,” he said. “Apparently I was wrong.”

  Amanda studied his face. Was it possible Professor Scribbish really was a Moriarty? He didn’t look a thing like Blixus but he did have a touch of Hugh about him. No, it was just her imagination. He was delirious.

  But when Clive and Ivy arrived they had a different take on the situation.

  “Get Professor Hoxby to check his DNA,” said Ivy.

  “You’re kidding,” Amanda said. This couldn’t be happening.

  “I agree,” said Clive. “This could be important.”

  “But he’s Professor Scribbish,” she said, hoping against hope that what she feared wasn’t true.

  “And?” said Ivy. “What do we know about Professor Scribbish?”

  “Um, he wears nice sweaters?” said Amanda.

  “Exactly,” said Ivy. “Nothing.”

  “You don’t seriously think he could be a Moriarty,” said Amanda. “A mole?” Like Nick was?

  “I have no idea,” said Ivy. “That’s why
we need to test him.”

  When Professor Hoxby came back with the results of the DNA test he was very agitated.

  “He’s a Moriarty,” he said. “His genes are identical to Blixus’s.”

  “Identical?” said Amanda. “You mean he really is Blixus’s twin?”

  “Apparently so,” said Professor Hoxby, showing her the results. “We will have to open an investigation.”

  “Do you think he’s been spying?” said Amanda. The idea of Professor Scribbish being a bad guy was unthinkable and yet there it was in black and white.

  “I don’t know. There’s been no sign of it but he’s a clever man. He might have covered his tracks.”

  “Could you have made a mistake?” she said. “Maybe his DNA got mixed up.”

  “With whose?” he said. “We don’t have samples of Blixus Moriarty’s DNA here at the school. His profile is in the national database but we don’t have blood to work with.”

  “I don’t know,” said Amanda, “but would you mind trying again? Pleeeese?”

  Professor Hoxby sighed. “Only for you, my dear. If it were anyone else I would put my foot down.”

  “Why is that?” she said.

  He winked at her. “I like your films.”

  The next time Amanda saw Professor Hoxby he was practically speechless.

  “Come into my office,” he said. “And bring Miss Halpin and Mr. Ng. They’re going to want to hear this too. It’s a shame Mr. Binkle isn’t here as well. You’ll tell him though, won’t you?”

  “Tell him what?”

  “Meeting in five,” he said. “I will tell you then.”

  Amanda didn’t bother to text her friends. She raced around and nabbed them in person.

  “What’s up?” said Clive when she found him outside the Logic classroom.

  “Hoxby,” Amanda said breathlessly. “His office. Need Ivy.”

  “She’s in the common room,” said Clive. “Or she was a minute ago. What’s all the fuss about?”

  She grabbed his hand and raced to the common room, which the décor gremlins had done up as a haunted house. Ivy was sitting on a coffin petting Nigel and listening to something on her phone.

  Amanda raced up to her, pulled her earbuds out, and said, “Come on.”

  “Wha?” said Ivy, but Amanda was picking up her things and Clive had hold of her.

  “I dunno,” he said. “She wants us to see Professor Hoxby.”

  “Just do it,” Amanda said.

  When they arrived at the pathology teacher’s office he told them to sit and shoved his tablet in front of them. “He’s a chimera,” he said.

  “A what?” said Amanda.

  “A chimera. You know, like the Greek monster.”

  “How can you say such a thing about Professor Scribbish?” said Ivy. “He’s such a nice man.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” said Professor Hoxby. “He has two different DNA profiles.”

  Clive gasped. “I’ve heard of that. One person with two identities.”

  “Not exactly identities,” said Professor Hoxby, “but two entirely different sets of DNA, yes.”

  “In the same body?” said Amanda.

  “Yep,” said the teacher. “It’s extremely rare but not unknown. It happens under special circumstances. Bone marrow transplants, grafts, transfusions, that sort of thing.”

  “So you’re saying he had a marrow transplant?” said Clive. “Or has he had a bone graft? Can you x-ray him?”

  “I can and I will,” said Professor Hoxby. “However, if I don’t find evidence of a bone graft, it is possible he picked up the other DNA from a transplant. I could check for scars but I wouldn’t be able to tell definitively.”

  “Do they do bone marrow transplants for leukemia?” said Ivy.

  “Yes, they do,” said Professor Hoxby.

  “So he could really be Amboy Moriarty,” said Amanda. “Maybe he got a transplant and ended up with another set of DNA in his body.”

  “But then why did they say he died?” said Clive.

  “Good question,” said Amanda.

  “Wait a minute,” said Ivy. “Do you think the Moriartys did this on purpose? Maybe they did a transplant so he’d appear to be someone else and then planted him here.”

  “Even if they did there would be no guarantee the other DNA would show up,” said Professor Hoxby. “As I said, chimeras are extremely rare. It would have been a risky strategy.”

  “Is there a way to help it along?” said Amanda.

  “Not as far as I know,” said Professor Hoxby.

  Amanda didn’t want to say it but she was wondering whether the detectives had been sloppy when they’d checked Professor Scribbish’s background. Why was so little known about him? Or did they know and weren’t saying? The whole business was so murky that she didn’t know where to start trying to figure it out. But Clive was less tactful.

  “How did you not pick this up before, Professor?” he said. “Didn’t you check his background when you hired him?”

  “We did indeed,” said the teacher. “He comes from a family of consulting detectives in Canterbury. They’re not well known but they are solid.”

  “Could he have made up a fake background?” said Ivy.

  “He obviously did,” said Professor Hoxby. “We seem to have made a serious mistake.”

  “But he seems so nice,” Amanda wailed.

  “He is nice,” said Professor Hoxby. “I’ve known Chris Scribbish for years and he’s never been anything but honest, loyal, and expert.”

  Amanda and Clive shared a look. Ivy must have sensed it because she said, “I thought you said they were all dead.”

  “Who’s dead?” said Professor Hoxby.

  “The spiders,” said Amanda. “The ones with the truth serum.”

  “You want to get one of those spiders to bite him?” said Professor Hoxby. “Now there’s an idea.”

  “It would be but someone poisoned them,” said Clive.

  “Not all of them,” said Amanda. “Nick and I returned the ones we captured. They might still be alive. Or their descendants.”

  “I really must try to distill their essence,” said Professor Hoxby. “If they still exist, that is.”

  And then Clive said, “Blimey! We tried that. There might still be some in the lab.”

  “You and Simon?” said Ivy. “You didn’t.”

  “Of course we did,” said Clive. “You didn’t think we’d let an opportunity like that pass by, did you?”

  “Well what are you waiting for?” said Professor Hoxby. “Go and get it.”

  When Clive produced the venom Professor Hoxby said, “I need to test this and make sure it’s safe. Come back in an hour.”

  The kids huddled outside the pathology suite and Ivy said, “We should have done that.”

  “We would have if Scapulus hadn’t been so bullheaded,” said Clive. “By the time he stuck his arm in the jar it was too late.”

  “It didn’t seem to do anyone any harm,” said Ivy. “I mean not physically.”

  “I agree,” said Amanda. “Several people were bitten—some multiple times—and we’re all still alive.”

  “That’s right, you were one of them,” said Clive. “How do you feel?”

  “Physically fine,” said Amanda. “Mentally? Confused. But that isn’t because of the spiders.”

  “I know,” said Ivy. “This whole thing with Professor Scribbish is wild.”

  “He doesn’t look like him, you know,” said Clive.

  “Professor Scribbish doesn’t look like Blixus?” said Ivy.

  “Not at all,” said Amanda. “I guess they’re not identical twins. OMG. Twins!”

  “What is it?” said Clive.

  “Twins can communicate telepathically!” she cried. “Amboy knew Moriarty’s formulas. If Professor Scribbish still has Moriarty’s formulas in his head, Blixus does too.”

  “Are you saying that the formulas have been hidden inside their heads?” said Clive.r />
  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Amanda.

  “Which means the glasses would give us access to the formulas,” said Ivy.

  “OMG, OMG,” said Amanda.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Clive. “Professor Scribbish is really Amboy Moriarty and he and Blixus both have James Moriarty’s secrets in their heads?”

  “Sure looks like it,” said Amanda.

  “And the glasses are a way to get them out?” said Clive. “I mean the rest of them. He was saying some of them before.”

  “They worked on Ramon,” said Ivy.

  “And they drove Professor Scribbish crazy,” said Clive. “Maybe he’s ruined now.”

  “We have to try them,” said Ivy. “Maybe we can get the rest.”

  “But what if you make him worse?” said Clive.

  “Worse than being a Moriarty?” said Amanda.

  “Text Simon,” said Ivy. “Ask him what he thinks.”

  “I know what he’ll think,” said Clive. “He’ll say go for it.”

  “OMG, I just thought of something,” said Amanda. “Stencil Moriarty had the glasses. He might know the formulas too.”

  “And Hugh!” said Ivy.

  Amanda buried her face in her hands. “Please tell me it isn’t possible.”

  “What, that Hugh knows the formulas?” said Clive.

  “No,” said Amanda. “That Nick does and he lied to me.”

  “Nick wouldn’t lie to you,” said Ivy. “Not anymore. He loves you.”

  Amanda stole a look at Clive. He was grimacing.

  “I didn’t think he would,” she said, trying to tear her gaze away from Clive’s skeptical face. “Then again I didn’t think Professor Scribbish was a Moriarty.”

  “You can’t go doubting Nick just because something else turned out all weird,” said Ivy.

  Easy to say, but look at the evidence, Amanda thought. You wouldn’t have believed that either, would you?

  “He might not know he knows them,” said Clive.

  “What do you mean?” she said. What was he doing—defending Nick? Since when?

  “Maybe they’re in Nick’s head and he doesn’t know they’re there.”

 

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