Amanda Lester and the Red Spider Rumpus

by Paula Berinstein

  When the video was over Clive said, “Play it again.”

  Amanda played the video again and Clive stopped her in the middle.

  “If I’m not mistaken, those are code words from the Bible pages we found,” said Clive.

  “No!” said Ivy.

  “I think so,” he said. “Once more, please.”

  When Amanda had finished playing the video a third time Clive said, “That’s the part about Earful’s invisibility technology. Has Ramon ever seen the pages or the translation?”

  “No way,” said Amanda. “No one would show him that stuff.”

  “Well he obviously has, and memorized them too,” said Clive.

  “That stuff hasn’t been common knowledge,” said Amanda. “Owla, I’ll tell you about it later. The only other people besides us who know about it are Scapulus and Binnie.” Should she tell them Nick knew about the pages too? No. He didn’t know what was on them. He’d had one in his possession but had never seen the invisible writing.

  “Obviously Ramon found one of the copies we made and memorized it,” said Simon.

  “You don’t think he’s got another page, do you?” said Ivy.

  That stopped everyone in their tracks.

  “And not tell anyone?” said Amanda.

  “Maybe Amphora stole it from your computer, Amanda,” said Clive.

  “Or maybe he intercepted the parcel!” said Simon.

  Everyone gasped.

  “You don’t think so?” said Ivy.

  “Sure looks like it,” said Simon.

  “I think we should get Thrillkill to interrogate him,” said Amanda. “This could be serious. What if he’s leaked the information?”

  Unlike her and Holmes, she thought, from whom two pages had been stolen. She was still feeling guilty about that. Not that it was their fault, of course, but the information was out there now and there was no way to stop it spreading.

  “I have to tell you guys something,” she said. And she confessed what she knew, from the deal between Holmes and Nick to Waltz stealing the two pages.

  When she’d finished Ivy got up and left the room. She was obviously furious that Amanda hadn’t told her before. Simon said, “This is even worse than David throwing the Bible in the pit, Amanda.” Clive said, “Why didn’t you tell us?” and Owla just tsk tsked and followed Ivy out of the room.

  Then Holmes came barreling in and said, “Ivy just told me what happened. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone, Amanda.”

  “Whyever not?” said Simon. “Amanda’s questionable stepfather has two pages from The Detective’s Bible and you weren’t going to tell us? Shame on you, Scapulus. Maybe you should go over to the dark side.”

  That made Holmes so mad that for the first time Amanda had ever seen, he punched someone, specifically Simon.

  “Hey,” said Clive, running to Simon’s defense. “Cut that out.”

  Holmes grabbed Amanda by the hand and pulled her out of the dining room. He didn’t stop until he’d got her all the way to the end of the hall.

  “How could you tell them, Amanda?” he said. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

  “I had to,” she said. “Ramon knows what’s in there and we have to figure out how. They were saying that he might have leaked the information but maybe they could contain it, and I realized that would be impossible because of Waltz and—don’t you see?”

  Holmes glared at her. He was steaming mad. Then he said the most awful thing. “What is the point of you loving me when you act like this?”

  “Scapulus!” she said, but he was already too far down the hall to hear.

  The next morning Simon suggested that they have a little intervention with Ramon. They got him to the common room on a pretext and locked the door. If a teacher found out what they were doing they’d be in big trouble, but Simon convinced them that the stakes were too high to pussyfoot around.

  When Ramon learned the real reason for the meeting he became haughty and demanded that they let him leave.

  “I’ve never been so insulted in all my life,” he said, which made Simon laugh. The guy was so la-di-da. It was easy to make fun of him.

  “I’d expect this from you, Simon,” said Amphora, “but Ivy, how could you?”

  Ivy had calmed down since her little tantrum of the night before. She was still upset that Amanda hadn’t told the kids about Waltz, but when Amanda explained that she had been stalling till she could figure out how to handle the situation, she backed off.

  “I’m sorry, Amphora,” Ivy said, “but this is very serious. Those words Ramon spoke last night? They were one of Legatum’s secrets.” She didn’t explain which secret or where they’d come from, and Amphora and Ramon didn’t ask.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” said Ramon. “Anyway I don’t believe you.”

  “Oh, they are,” said Clive. “Amanda recorded you talking.”

  “What?” Ramon barked. “How dare you? No wonder the spirit disappeared.”

  “Obviously the ghost knew the secrets,” said Amphora matter-of-factly.

  “Give me a break,” said Simon.

  Amphora crossed her arms and turned her head away.

  “That’s exactly right,” said Ramon. “I communed with the ghost and it told me. I can’t help it if it told me something it shouldn’t have.”

  “I think you got hold of a copy of those pages and memorized them,” said Simon. “Obviously you didn’t get the pages themselves because they’re, uh—” he looked at Amanda, “gone.”

  Amphora jumped up. “What do you mean they’re gone?”

  “Temporarily misplaced is all,” said Clive.

  “I did no such thing,” said Ramon. Amphora sat back down and took his hand.

  “Nor did I,” she said, stroking lovingly. Amanda felt herself start to gag.

  “Then how did you know?” said Clive.

  “I’ve already said,” said Ramon. “The ghost told me. I think it’s obvious what I must do next.”

  “Turn yourself in?” said Simon.

  “No,” said Ramon with disgust. “I need to communicate with the ghost again so I can find out what’s happened.”

  “Let’s let one of the spiders bite him,” said Clive.

  “Oh, good idea,” said Simon with relish.

  “Biting?” said Ramon. “What biting? I don’t like spiders.”

  “Tough,” said Simon. “Suck it up. This is important.”

  But Ramon passed the spider test. He truly seemed to know nothing about the Bible and kept asserting his claim that the ghost had spoken through him. He did, however, confess something embarrassing. When he was a little kid, he created a wall of boogers behind his bed. When they told him what he’d said, he punched Simon in the nose.

  16

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Nick may have had a room at Legatum, but he wasn’t officially a student. One of the many conditions he would have to meet to become one was to pass a series of tests. However he hadn’t been told what they were.

  One day he and Amanda were standing behind a block of books in the library, talking softly, when she said, “I hope they don’t throw you into a lion’s den like they did with Hercules.”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” said Nick, stroking her hair. “I don’t see what that would prove.”

  “You’re right. That was silly. They want to test your fitness to become a detective. Being able to fight a lion probably isn’t the way to do that. Maybe you’ll have to solve a mystery, like the class project.”

  “They’d never spend that kind of money on me,” said Nick.

  Amanda didn’t like hearing that but she knew it was true. What then? “I suppose there’s no point in guessing. Whatever it is, you can bet there’s no way to prepare for it.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” he said, and kissed her hand. She always got goosebumps when he did that.

  She hoped he was right. The detectives could be tricky. They weren’t the type of people to be mer
ciful, and considering who he was and what he’d done, they’d definitely be harsh. She didn’t want to tell him but she was really worried.

  To distract herself from her fears, she decided she’d ask him about an idea she’d had for a while.

  “Nick,” she said, entwining her fingers with his, “do you remember how you told me you were an actor?”

  This was going back a ways. They hadn’t discussed that since those first few weeks of their friendship, back during their first term at Legatum.

  “I wasn’t lying,” he said. “I really am. Or was, anyway.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Oh, well, I’m not sure you want to hear about that,” he said.

  “No, tell me. I want to know. You’re very good.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a positive thing. Not the way I used it.”

  “To fool people.”

  “Yes.” He gazed into her eyes. “You know how sorry I am about that.”

  “You don’t have to keep saying it,” she said, gazing back. “It’s all in the past.”

  He sighed. “It was Blixus’s idea. He sent me to an acting school in London. He thought it would help me work undercover.”

  It sounded immensely cool—except for the reason. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “The school, you mean? I did. Working undercover? At the time I did. Obviously I’ve changed my mind.”

  But he still had that training, and he was very talented. Why not put his gifts to good use?

  “Do you think you might want to act in one of my films?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I most certainly would. When do we start?”

  “Shall we write the script together?”

  “The more time I get to spend with you, the happier I am.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her. Then he changed the subject.

  “I wish I knew more about my dad. Wink, I mean.”

  “Did David talk about him?” The two boys had spent a lot of time together when Blixus and Mavis were living in the tunnels. David had idolized his father. He must have said something about him.

  “Actually no,” said Nick. “He didn’t talk much. He was pretty traumatized about . . . well, you know.”

  That he had been. Mavis had killed Wink, and David had gone to live with her anyway. You couldn’t get much more messed up than that.

  “You know who knows about Wink?” said Amanda. “Thrillkill. They were really close.”

  “Do you think he’d tell me about him?” said Nick.

  “Yeah, I do.” She took out her phone and sent Thrillkill a text.

  “I still can’t get my head around the fact that I’m not a Moriarty,” said Nick. “I’m glad, of course, but I always forget. Why do you think Blixus and Mavis adopted me anyway?”

  Suddenly Amanda could hear heavy footsteps and within a split second Holmes came speeding around the corner.

  “You!” he said, pointing at Nick. “You’re not supposed to be in here. The library is off limits.” He looked from Nick to Amanda and back again, and a look of horror came over his face. “Why are you talking to him, Amanda?”

  Luckily her brain was working and she thought of the perfect response. “He saw me come in and wanted to ask me about his dad. Wink.”

  The subterfuge stopped Holmes in his tracks. He seemed to have forgotten that Amanda didn’t know any more about Wink Wiffle than he did.

  “Oh,” said Holmes. “Well, in any case you’re not allowed in here. You’ll have to leave.”

  “You weren’t spying, were you?” said Amanda, trying not to be too provocative. Holmes was still mad at her because she’d told everyone that Waltz had taken the Bible pages.

  “Of course I was,” said Holmes. “I’m monitoring his tracker.”

  “It’s okay,” said Nick. “I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be in the library. It won’t happen again.”

  “She doesn’t love you, you know,” said Holmes, and stormed out.

  As it turned out, Thrillkill had a few minutes free and invited Nick to his office to hear about Wink. Nick insisted that Amanda go too, and they found themselves facing the headmaster over his gigantic desk.

  “So,” said Thrillkill, “your father.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Nick.

  “He was the best man I ever knew,” said Thrillkill.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Nick.

  “It wasn’t your fault your adoptive mother killed him,” said Thrillkill. “It seems to have been a case of hell hath no fury, from what we’ve been able to piece together.”

  “Do you know how they met?” said Nick.

  “Your father and Mavis?” said Thrillkill. “No idea. I didn’t even know he was seeing her.”

  “Can you tell me more about him then?” said Nick.

  Thrillkill sat back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “Wink was smart, creative, and curious.”

  Just like Nick, Amanda thought. But not like David.

  “His grandfather was Bailiwick Wiffle, of course,” said Thrillkill. “A baronet.”

  “David’s always reminding people of that,” said Amanda, then clapped her hand over her mouth. She shouldn’t be disparaging David in front of Thrillkill.

  He didn’t seem to mind. “Yes, well, David has some romantic notions about his great-grandfather,” said Thrillkill.

  “How so?” said Nick.

  “Bailiwick was a wild man,” said Thrillkill. “He was most certainly not the buttoned-down paragon David seems to think he was. Truth be told, he was a bohemian.”

  “Really?” said Amanda. “How come they didn’t tell us that in History of Detectives?”

  “Which class?” said Thrillkill. “Professor Also’s or your mother’s?”

  “Um, my mom’s,” said Amanda.

  “Harumph,” said Thrillkill, but failed to elaborate. “Bailiwick Wiffle was the Lord Byron of his day. Except that he was a detective, of course.”

  Nick’s eyes widened and he broke into a grin. For a moment he forgot himself and spread out all over his chair, slinging his arm over the back and lifting his foot almost to the level of the desktop. Then he caught himself and sat up straight again. Amanda was delighted to see him so happy.

  “Yes, old Bailiwick was quite a character,” said Thrillkill. “Groundbreaking artist, although he destroyed everything he ever created. Not a stick of it remains. Dead shame.”

  “Perhaps that’s where Wink got it,” said Amanda. “The art, I mean.”

  “Oh, most definitely. Bailiwick died before Wink was born, but Wink became obsessed with him in his teens and decided he was going to be just like him. Didn’t end up that way though.”

  “I’d like to see some of my dad’s work,” said Nick.

  “Hang on,” said Thrillkill, and produced his phone. Within a few seconds he had pulled up some of Wink’s paintings. Most of them were dark and atmospheric, but a few exploded with color. He was extremely talented.

  “They’re amazing,” said Nick, devouring them greedily. “Wink did these?”

  “He certainly did,” said Thrillkill. “There’s a lot more where those came from too. I’ll send you a link.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now your dad,” said Thrillkill, “he was actually a better detective than old Bailiwick. I say old, but he died in his forties.”

  “I knew that,” said Amanda.

  “Yes, well, he didn’t take the best care of himself,” said Thrillkill. “Too much whiskey. And then there was the duel.”

  “Duel?” said Nick.

  “Unfortunately,” said Thrillkill. “Not too many people know about that. The official line is that he died of a heart attack. Not true.”

  “He was killed in a duel?” said Nick, his eyes wide.

  “Yep,” said Thrillkill. “Shot through the heart. Man name of James James-James.”

  “What happened?” said Nick.

  “The usual,” said Thrillkill. “A fight over a woman.”


  “Who was it?” said Amanda.

  “A young woman named Scandia Magillicutty,” said Thrillkill. “A false girl if there ever was one. She didn’t love either of them.”

  “Then why were they fighting over her?” said Amanda.

  “Why do men ever fight over women?” said Thrillkill, looking at her pointedly. Amanda gulped. Somehow it seemed that he wasn’t talking about Bailiwick Wiffle anymore.

  “What happened to the bloke who shot him?” said Nick.

  “Oh, he died,” said Thrillkill. “Got a chill from being out in the damp, came down with pneumonia, and that was the end of him.”

  “How sad,” said Amanda.

  “Indeed,” said Thrillkill.

  “And the woman?” said Nick.

  “She was your great-grandmother,” said Thrillkill.

  By this time Nick was practically all over Thrillkill’s desk. He’d forgotten about sitting still in his chair and had just about doubled the amount of space he was taking up. He was obviously fascinated as well as excited. Amanda almost envied him, being related to such interesting people, and for the first time in ages lamented her own sad heritage.

  “What was my dad like as a detective?” said Nick.

  “As in everything else, he was extremely creative,” said Thrillkill. “He always found the odd way to the truth.”

  “What do you mean ‘odd’?” said Nick.

  “His neurons fired in a different way from other people’s,” said Thrillkill. “He could see connections between facts that no one else could.”

  Like Ivy.

  “Like what?”

  “He would have known the second he saw the two of you together that you were soul mates,” said Thrillkill without batting an eye.

  Amanda turned beet red and Nick choked.

  “Didn’t think I knew, did you?” said Thrillkill archly. “I knew the moment I saw you in that auditorium on orientation day. Before, actually. I could tell from your applications.” Nick sat up straight again and Amanda looked at her lap. “I see I’ve left you speechless. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Although it’s obvious and anyone worth their salt knows anyway.”