Amanda Lester and the Purple Rainbow Puzzle

by Paula Berinstein

  “I’m sure he will,” said Amanda, gagging.

  “Anyway, you’ll see when you meet him,” said Despina. “You’re going to be fast friends. I can feel it. See you domani, dear. Bye now.”

  Amanda had been through this kind of thing with Despina before. The woman didn’t listen. She simply decided that you were going to do something and that was that. How could someone who was such a good detective—for Despina was, in her own way—be so tone deaf? Amanda knew that there was no way she was going to escape the visit, so she steeled herself for what would befall her the following morning and went off to interview more teachers.

  While she was talking to Professor Pargeter, the intimidating toxicology teacher she didn’t know at all, Amanda received a text from Amphora: “Got something!!!!!” She was so curious to know what Amphora had found that she had trouble completing the interview and more than once said Kill Bill instead of Thrillkill and Harbinger instead of Pargeter. The teacher had stared right through her in the most disconcerting way, but each time she’d managed to regain her composure and soldier on—ish.

  As soon as she’d completed the interview, in which Professor Pargeter had told her that everything in the world was toxic, you just had to know where to look, she texted Amphora back and asked her to meet in the common room. When she got there she found the décor gremlins in the middle of a heated argument, as usual.

  “If you weren’t so fat,” Alexei was saying, “you wouldn’t have trouble getting through those aisles in Room 27.”

  “I am not fat,” said Noel. “The aisles are only fifteen inches wide. How do you expect a normal human being to fit? We need to install movable library shelves.”

  “Nonsense,” said Alexei. “Stop eating candy.”

  “I don’t eat candy,” said Noel. “Just because you have a natural swimmer’s body doesn’t make me fat, and why am I arguing with a philistine like you? You twist everything I say.”

  Alexei humphed. “Russians do not twist.”

  “Oh really? Ever heard of Baba Yaga?”

  “Baba Yaga is a sacred figure in Russian literature. The idea that you would denigrate her—”

  Amanda could see where this train was headed. “Hello, gentlemen,” she said, hoping that they’d forget what they were talking about.

  “Amanda, dahlink,” said Alexei. Sometimes Amanda thought he sounded like Despina with all the dears and darlings that came out of his mouth.

  “Hello, Amanda,” said Noel. “Do you think I’m fat?”

  Uh oh. She most definitely did not want to get in the middle of this. If she said yes, she’d annoy Noel. If she said no, Alexei would get all huffy.

  “I think you’re as fat as I am,” she said, hoping she was being sufficiently diplomatic.

  “There, you see?” said Alexei.

  What? She wasn’t fat. How could he think she was fat?

  “I see nothing,” said Noel. “Amanda is not fat. She’s not even pleasantly plump anymore.”

  That she had been when she’d entered Legatum, but now that the school’s cuisine had changed she’d slimmed down.

  “I propose a test then,” said Alexei. “Amanda, see if you can get through the aisles in Basement Room 27. If you can, you’re not fat. If you can’t, you and Noel must go on diets.”

  Amanda felt her dander rise. She was not fat and she did not have to prove it.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Dropoff,” she said. “I’m meeting Amphora and we have to do something.”

  “I didn’t mean now,” he said.

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Noel. “You don’t have to do it. He’s being patently ridiculous. You meet your friend and run along.”

  “Do what?” said Amphora, entering the common room.

  “Nothing,” said Amanda, trying not to look at either gremlin. If she didn’t encourage them, maybe they’d stop.

  Amphora gave her a look like, “This again?” Amanda nodded. “Oh,” mouthed Amphora.

  “Hello, you two,” said Amphora.

  “Miss Kapoor,” said Alexei.

  “Ditto,” said Noel.

  “Amanda, I need to show you something,” said Amphora, getting the message.

  “Sorry,” said Amanda, but the two gremlins had already turned their attention to some blue glass vases with bubbles in them and were arguing over the skill of the artist.

  Amphora pulled her out of the common room. “At it again?”

  “Yup. What’s so important?” said Amanda.

  “Just this,” said Amphora. “I found out what Mr. Wiffle was doing before he died.”

  At last they were getting somewhere! Amanda couldn’t wait to hear more.

  “Well?” she said.

  “He had Crocodile under surveillance,” said Amphora.

  That wasn’t exactly a surprise. Couldn’t she get on with it already?

  “And?” said Amanda.

  “Bees,” said Amphora proudly.

  “Bees?”

  “Bees.”

  “Oh well, the case is solved then,” said Amanda sarcastically.

  “Stop it,” said Amphora. “You already know this?”

  “No, of course I don’t know this,” said Amanda. “You’re going so slow. Can you please hurry up?”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Amphora. “I’ve been learning these little dramatic tricks from someone in the film business and they just leak into my speech.” She grinned. She had a beautiful smile.

  “Cut it out,” said Amanda. “Just get to the point.”

  “Wink Wiffle received a tip that there had been a rash of bee thefts in the countryside,” said Amphora eagerly. “His informant said that Crocodile was involved.”

  “Bee thefts, you say?” said Amanda. Who stole bees?

  “Bee thefts.”

  It made sense. Those lists of farms . . . “Well, that explains that,” said Amanda.

  “You did know about this. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know anything,” said Amanda. “I mean I knew something, but not anything, really.”

  “Now who isn’t getting to the point?”

  “Oh, my turn to be sorry,” said Amanda. “Eustace and I—”

  “Eustace?” said Amphora suspiciously. “You saw Eustace?”

  Why did she have to make everything so difficult? She didn’t own the guy. “Yes,” said Amanda. “And—”

  “And you didn’t invite me?” said Amphora.

  “You should be glad,” said Amanda. She leaned in close and whispered. “We broke the law.” That should put her off. Amphora would worry half to death that she’d go to prison for life if she so much as littered.

  “So what else is new?”

  Amanda was taken aback. Was that the reputation she’d built? “I don’t break the law.”

  “Oh, really?” said Amphora. “How about the time you stole that truck, and the time you broke into the factory, and the time—”

  When Amanda had been trying to get to London to save her father, she’d accidentally ended up in Edinburgh and had managed to escape from an angry truck driver by stealing his vehicle. It wasn’t one of her prouder moments.

  “Those were necessities.”

  “So?” said Amphora. “I’m sure this was too. What did you do?”

  “We broke into Crocodile’s flat,” whispered Amanda, “but if you tell anyone—”

  “Of course I’m not going to tell anyone!” screamed Amphora.

  “Tell anyone what?” said David Wiffle, sticking his head into the common room.

  “Now you’ve done it,” said Amanda.

  “Ooooh, this sounds juicy,” said David. “Tell me.”

  “No,” said Amanda.

  “Don’t you feel sorry for me?” said David in an annoying tone. “Just tell me.” That made her mad. The kid was using his misfortune to get people to do things for him. What a creepy little jerk.

  “Get out of here,” said Amphora.

  “I don’t think you want to talk to me like th
at,” said David. “My mother is suing the school, and you just got Thrillkill in a whole lot more trouble.”

  “Scram,” said Amanda.

  “You’re going to be sorry,” said David.

  “You have some nerve—” said Amphora.

  Amanda put a hand on her arm and shook her head. This was not the time to beat up on the poor kid, even if he was still obnoxious.

  “You look fat,” said David, causing Amphora to charge him. He was too fast for her and made it out into the hall before she could catch him.

  “Twerp,” she said, returning to Amanda.

  “Yes, he is,” said Amanda. “But let’s ignore him. Tell me more about Wink Wiffle.”

  “Well,” said Amphora, “the other thing I found out was that there were some notes on his computer, but they’re encrypted. However, you can tell the date first created and the date last modified. Get this: the date last modified was the day before the orientation, and the date created was a couple of weeks before that. So this is a job he was doing for only a couple of weeks before he died.”

  “Interesting,” said Amanda. “I wonder who that informant was who tipped him off about the bee thefts. And what do they have to do with the key?”

  “Right,” said Amphora. “My key.” She seemed to think that because she’d found it, it was hers, like “The Amphora Kapoor Endowment for the Mystery Key” or something. “But what were you talking about when you said that explained that, and what does Eustace have to do with it?” She stopped and smiled in that way she did when she was daydreaming. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

  Amanda wondered if Amphora knew that Eustace wanted to be a detective. She hesitated to broach the subject. If she didn’t know, she’d get all upset that Amanda did.

  “He is cute,” said Amanda, “but—”

  “You want him for yourself,” said Amphora.

  “I do not!” yelled Amanda. “Would you please listen? When we went into Crocodile’s flat we found a sheet of paper with some addresses on it. They turned out to be farms. I’ll bet you these places had apiaries. Either bees were stolen from them or delivered to them. We need to check.”

  “That makes sense,” said Amphora. “Crocodile had a list of places that involved bees. Perhaps the bee thieves could be found that way.”

  “Yes,” said Amanda. “Although that’s another case. Still, it helps us paint a picture of Wink’s movements.”

  “I heard Mrs. Wiffle didn’t know what her husband was doing right before he died.”

  “Yes. She told Thrillkill—this was a few weeks ago—that he had been away from the house a lot, but that was normal for him. He’d been staying in hotels, but he used a fake name and paid in cash so it will be hard to figure out where he went. This information might help us, though. Maybe he knew where these farms were and stayed near them.”

  “Yes,” said Amphora. “Say, do you suppose the key belongs on one of those farms, or maybe to a safe in one of those hotel rooms?”

  “Could be,” said Amanda. “We should tell Thrillkill.”

  When the girls told Thrillkill about the leads they’d come up with, the headmaster was ecstatic. Fortunately he didn’t ask how Amanda got the information from Crocodile’s flat. Perhaps he already had it and just assumed that she’d seen it somehow. At least she’d managed to dodge that bullet. Also fortunately, the information allowed them to move forward with two tasks on Amanda’s list: the key and Wink’s murder.

  “I think I’m on a roll,” said Amphora. “I’m going to do a little more nosing around.” She grinned. “Maybe I’ll invite Eustace to come with me.”

  “He’s working,” said Amanda. “Don’t disturb him.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” said Amphora cryptically.

  “I don’t believe you,” said Amanda. Her roommate was up to something. You could always tell.

  “Too bad for you,” said Amphora. “See you.”

  She flounced out of the room. Amanda just knew she was going to get someone in trouble—if not Eustace, then the new cook or Harry Sheriff, or—

  Harry Sheriff. What was going on with that guy? He was becoming obnoxious. She wondered if you could be expelled for harassing other students. Probably not. If that were the case David Wiffle would have been gone long ago. Too bad.

  Then she heard voices out in the hall.

  “Shut up,” she heard Amphora say.

  “You shut up,” said Simon.

  Oh, brother. They were at it again. Good thing Ivy wasn’t around.

  Then suddenly Simon tore into the room so fast he almost fell over.

  “What?” she said.

  “I just saw the most amazing thing,” he said. “A rainbow just shot out of Scapulus’s compute.”

  14

  Leprechauns

  The hacker had struck again! But why a bubble, then a gold coin, and then a rainbow? What was he trying to say? Wait a minute: a rainbow. Amanda had seen several rainbows recently, and one of them was wrong. Could there be a connection?

  “Slow down and tell me everything,” she said.

  “Well,” said Simon, “I was spying on Scapulus—” She grimaced. She hated the idea of him doing that. “He was working on Professor Redleaf’s computer and this little rainbow came shooting out. He jumped.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “‘Course not. I’m a good spy.”

  Good spy, good kisser. Where did Simon learn this stuff anyway?

  “What did he do?” she said, trying not to think of that amazing kiss.

  “He frowned,” said Simon. He would have made a great witness in court. He never volunteered information beyond what he’d been asked. His reticence drove Amanda crazy.

  “And then what?”

  “Nothing,” said Simon. “He just sat there thinking.”

  That must have been exciting. Like watching grass grow. “How long did you watch?”

  “Couple minutes, I guess.”

  “It’s the hacker,” she said.

  “Yup. Weird guy. Or maybe it’s a woman. I mean rainbows, come on.”

  “You’re a sexist, you know that?” she said. She hoped the hacker really was a guy. It would serve Simon right for making assumptions.

  “Am not,” he said. “I’m using ‘he’ as a generic pronoun.”

  “Right,” said Amanda, not believing a word. “We have to find this hacker.”

  “You mean do something Scapulus isn’t?” Simon looked skeptical. “He’s the best cyberinvestigator there is.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” she said.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. I need to think about it. But I’ll come up with something.”

  She had to anyway. Professor Redleaf’s computer was on her task list.

  “Hey, Simon,” she said, remembering something that wasn’t on the list. “What do you think of this zombie thing?”

  “Funny you should ask,” he said. “Clive and I are going into town to see if we can find one. Want to come?”

  “I wish I could.” She really did. Anything would be better than dealing with the hacker or facing Holmes. “I’ve got to work on Thrillkill’s list.”

  “Oh, come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Sorry. Can’t.”

  “Suit yourself.” He got a weird look on his face. “Want me to kiss you again?”

  She did, but there was no way she was going to admit it. Anyway, it wasn’t a good idea. Everyone would find out and—ugh. It was bad enough with Harry Sheriff making remarks. She didn’t need the whole school hassling her.

  “No thanks. Have a good time.”

  Amanda’s phone rang again. She was starting to feel like a human call center.

  “Miss Lester,” said Mr. Onion on the other end of the line. “A word please.”

  “Sure,” she said. Join the club.

  “In the matter of Ms. Wiffle’s lawsuit, I’m going to need to depose you. Shall we say next week?”

  Why not? She had nothi
ng else to do. Not. “Next week.”

  “Very well, then. I will send you some questions so you can prepare. Just tell the truth.”

  “I will.”

  “Check your mail in a few minutes.”

  “Will do.” Unless some other crisis arose. There were only about ten of them right now.

  This hacker thing was getting weirder and weirder. It seemed that whoever was invading Professor Redleaf’s computer had learned to manipulate matter remotely. But that wasn’t possible, was it? It was if there were a control system involved, like they did with the Hubble telescope or satellites, but that was all set up ahead of time, on purpose, and everything fit together exactly the way it needed to. You couldn’t just take control and make the devices dance the jig or something, could you?

  But this wasn’t a mere dance. This was changing matter, not moving it. It was turning a screen into a liquid, then back to a solid again, creating objects or phenomena out of something completely unlike them and animating them. It went way beyond 3D printing. It was like alchemy. No, not like alchemy. It was alchemy.

  But alchemy was impossible. You couldn’t turn base metals into gold. You could make such things seem to happen by using light—holograms, 3D graphics, and the like—but you couldn’t make them happen for real. So what Amanda and Simon had seen couldn’t actually be happening.

  Whether or not these things were actually occurring, however, the real issue was finding the hacker. He or she was a troll, pure and simple. Right now the phenomena were annoying, but they might become dangerous, and that was the real worry. Professor Redleaf had certainly thought so. The look on her face that day in front of the class was serious. She wasn’t a frivolous person. If she was scared, she’d had good reason to be.

  The hacker’s agenda seemed apparent: disrupt Legatum’s operations. Any number of criminals could have managed that one way or another, but Amanda was just about sure that Moriarty was involved. He and Thrillkill were engaged in a personal vendetta, for one thing. For another, his family’s battle with the detectives went back more than a hundred years. It had to be him, and he had to have hired someone to help.