The Magpie Society One for Sorrow

by Amy McCulloch

  ‘That’s right! Can you believe it?’ I place my arms behind my back and link my hands, wondering if I should sit down.

  ‘Well, of course. You’re one of Illumen Hall’s brightest students. What an exciting two years you have ahead of you. Sit, sit. Please …’ She gestures at the chair in front of her desk. She leans forward in her chair and I catch a whiff of her morning coffee breath, shadowed by a hint of mint chewing gum. ‘And things are all right with your new room-mate?’

  ‘Yeah …’

  ‘I know it’s not what you were expecting for this year, but it’s important that Audrey feels welcome.’

  I keep a neutral smile on my face, but inwardly I cringe. Is that why she asked me here? Maybe she’s caught wind of the fact that I haven’t exactly been friendly to Miss Congeniality.

  ‘So you’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here? Don’t worry – you aren’t in trouble … this time!’ she says cattily. ‘I’d actually like to ask you a small favour, and I know you’d be the best person for this.’

  I relax in my chair. So I’m not in trouble.

  Mrs Abbott steeples her fingers. ‘There’s a podcast being produced about our school. I don’t know if you’ve heard it …’

  ‘I have,’ I reply tentatively, trying to quiet the alarm bells ringing in my head. This is not the direction I thought the conversation was going, and I’m back on edge.

  ‘Well, it’s causing me a lot of hassle. I need to find out who’s behind it. We’ve already run checks on laptops, school computers and have emailed parents, but we just haven’t found anything significant. We don’t want to have to take this to the authorities if it is a student … you know full well that we allow – in fact, encourage! – you all to produce media and exercise your creative freedoms. However, this podcast is particularly sensitive and we feel it’s very … detrimental to the student population. I’m sure you understand the importance of this, Ivy?’

  ‘Yes, of course. The podcast you’re talking about, is it the one about Lola being murdered?’

  Mrs Abbott reels back at my bluntness. ‘Have a lot of students listened to it?’ Her eyebrows knit together in concern.

  ‘I think so, yes. The flyers that fell during assembly had the link on them. I know a lot of people visited the website last night … myself included.’ I pause, waiting to see how Mrs Abbott reacts.

  She nods, her expression grave. ‘So you understand why we have to shut this down.’

  ‘Yes, but what exactly do you want me to do, Mrs Abbott? I’m no detective.’ I shift in my seat, wishing she’d asked just about anybody else for help.

  ‘I realize that, but I’d like you to do your best to discover who’s making this podcast. I know what students are like, especially here at Illumen Hall. Secrets don’t stay secrets for very long. Someone will spill the beans eventually. You may not be a detective, but you’re a popular student and I know you can keep an ear to the ground for me. Ask some pointed questions maybe?’

  ‘I mean … I don’t know …’

  Mrs Abbott leans forward again, arching an eyebrow. ‘If you do this for me, Ivy, I will ensure you get the best possible outcome for your future. I have lunch with an old friend who’s a dean at an Oxford college coming up. It would be very easy for me to arrange a meeting between the two of you …’ There’s a long, awkward silence while I digest the fact that she’s very clearly attempting to bribe me into becoming her spy. She doesn’t break eye contact and suddenly I want more than anything to get out of here. I swallow.

  ‘Consider it done.’ I smile as sweetly as I can and stand up to signal the fact that I’m most definitely done with this conversation.

  She looks relieved. ‘Great. I knew I could count on you. Have a good day, Ivy!’ She turns back to her computer and waves her hand over the top of it as I shut the door behind me.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen the headmistress look so desperate in all my time here. And, if I pull this off, maybe my future will be a bit more secure too. But I have no idea where to start to find out the identity of ‘Voice Unknown’. For all I know, it could be a student, a teacher, or some desperate journalist looking for a scoop.

  But, now I think about it, if someone is trying to profit from Lola’s death, then that makes me furious. And now that I have Mrs Abbott’s endorsement – no, encouragement – I’m not going to stop at anything to find out who’s behind it.

  THE WKL? PODCAST TRANSCRIPT

  EPISODE TWO

  [Intro] Quiet sound that rises slowly, like quickening heartbeats.

  VEE

  Welcome to the second episode of WHO KILLED LOLA?, a podcast where I, your Voice Unknown, am attempting to uncover the truth of what happened to Lola Radcliffe, the student who sadly passed away at Illumen Hall’s summer party.

  Now, I know the launch of this podcast last week caused quite the stir at Illumen Hall – so hello and sorry to all the students and staff listening right now – but the truth will out.

  I bet most of you are wondering why I even started this investigation. I can shine a little light on that – someone sent me an anonymous note saying that there was a witness who saw TWO people up on the cliffs that night.

  Someone who has reason to question the official version of what exactly happened to Lola.

  An anonymous tip – doesn’t sound very trustworthy, does it? So I did what any person would do: I went to the police. After all, they seemed pretty convinced that they’d figured it all out. And, if I was wrong, they could set me straight.

  Now it was pretty hard getting to talk to Detective Constable Copeland and he wasn’t particularly interested in speaking to a random person who wanted to remain anonymous. He dismissed me, obviously, and we only spoke for a few minutes. But what he had to say changed how I thought about Lola’s death forever. Will it change your mind too? I’ve put in the audio unedited so you can judge for yourself.

  The sound of a phone ringing.

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  Hello?

  VEE

  Hi, Detective Copeland? I was told you might speak to me about the death of Dolores Radcliffe?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this now.

  VEE

  This is the fifth time I’ve tried to call – please, I only need five minutes.

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  [long pause]

  Fine, five minutes. But that’s all I have for you. We probably won’t even need that. There isn’t anything to discuss here. This was a cut-and-dried case in the end.

  VEE

  Just to let you know that I’m recording this? Are you OK with that?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  Whatever.

  VEE

  You believe that this is a cut-and-dried case, but did you find any evidence that Lola’s death might be by suicide?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  No, we didn’t. She didn’t leave a note that we could find, although that’s not entirely unusual with the deaths of young people. It’s why the coroner ruled ‘death by misadventure’ rather than suicide. It may have been a tragic accident. Those cliffs have claimed many lives.

  VEE

  So she was alone on the clifftop?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  Yes. We found no evidence of any additional persons.

  VEE

  But what about the testimony of an eyewitness who claims to have seen a second person?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  [irritated]

  How did you find out about that?

  VEE

  I can’t reveal that information. But this witness swears to the fact that there were two people on the clifftop that night.

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  We carefully went through all eyewitness statements, but categorically ruled out the presence of a second person.

  If that’s all you’re basing your questions on, then
I’m afraid it’s a dead end. I’m sorry, but a young woman died and we don’t consider it to be suspicious. Now, if you don’t mind …

  VEE

  But wait – another question, if I may – did you ever find Lola’s phone?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  What? No. The students told us that they didn’t bring phones to the party.

  VEE

  Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t OWN them. Lola definitely had a phone. Didn’t they find it near the scene?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  [sighs]

  No, we didn’t find a phone. At the scene or anywhere else. But we did gain access to her cloud and there wasn’t anything of note that would point to foul play. It was probably lost at sea when she fell.

  VEE

  And what about the tattoo? Everyone who was at the party has stories of seeing a huge tattoo of a bird – maybe a magpie? – that stretched across Lola’s back. She didn’t have that before. She was a champion swimmer – we all would have seen it. I’ve done a bit of research into all the tattoo shops in the area and none of the artists say they tattooed a magpie in the week prior to Lola’s death. Maybe the tattooist knows what happened to her – or can give some insight into her state of mind before she died? Did you look into that?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  [a dark chuckle]

  VEE

  I don’t think this is very funny.

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  This is why private individuals shouldn’t conduct their own investigations. You’ve wasted an awful lot of your own time.

  VEE

  What do you mean?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  Well, you can cross one thing off your list. It wasn’t a tattoo at all.

  VEE

  [surprised]

  It wasn’t?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  [serious now]

  No. It was drawn on with marker pen. A Sharpie.

  VEE

  But why a magpie?

  DETECTIVE CONSTABLE COPELAND

  Why do kids do anything? Look, this is a very sad case and I’m sure you’re all very upset. But it wasn’t a murder. True-crime shows and podcasts have a lot to answer for. We left no stone unturned in our investigation. Now, excuse me, I have serious work to do.

  Sound of the phone line clicking off.

  VEE

  Were you as shocked by that revelation as I was? Not only did he confirm to me that there WAS eyewitness testimony (even if he discounted it), but now we know that Lola didn’t have a tattoo after all – but an intricate drawing made with your average Sharpie.

  You’d think I’d be disappointed to hear that – after all, there’s a much smaller pool of people who could tattoo than wield a permanent marker, so my suspect list is growing even longer.

  But perhaps even more important than WHO drew the magpie is the question I asked the detective: WHY? What’s the significance of the magpie? As we all know, Lola’s full name was Dolores. Dolores in Spanish means sorrow.

  One for sorrow.

  But maybe I’m getting distracted. Perhaps it’s a question of who had the most to gain from Lola’s death. Maybe it wasn’t a premeditated murder, but a terrible accident – caused by someone in a jealous rage? Someone who instantly benefited from her death, and has now been putting on an absolutely outrageous display of grief, when they didn’t even know the victim in question …?

  I’ve disguised the next passage to preserve the anonymity of my source.

  UNKNOWN FEMALE VOICE

  She always wanted that head-girl spot. When Lola was given it, she told me she’d do anything to take Lola’s place.

  [pause]

  Anything.

  VEE

  And how long was that before the party?

  UNKNOWN FEMALE VOICE

  Just a few days.

  But you know what’s strange? No one saw her at the beginning of the party. I’d know because I’d been waiting for her to arrive.

  VEE

  But I thought the police had accounted for all the students’ whereabouts?

  UNKNOWN FEMALE VOICE

  [suddenly nervous]

  Oh, uh, I’ve said too much already. I’m sure she must have given a good alibi to the police or she’d be a suspect, right? I gotta go.

  [sound of heels running away]

  VEE

  Suspicious, right?

  [Interlude] A low series of beats sound out the close of the episode.

  And that’s it for this episode of WHO KILLED LOLA? Tune in next time as I continue to unravel the mystery of what really happened to Dolores Radcliffe.

  [End] Music plays, growing loud before fading out.

  15

  Ivy

  ‘Can I have a bite of that?’ Harriet leans over the table and grabs my banana from my hand.

  It’s lunchtime and, as the sun’s shining, we’re sitting in our usual spot on the picnic benches near the swimming pool.

  ‘You’re such a savage, Harriet,’ Max laughs.

  Harriet, Max, Tom and I have a tradition of meeting on sunny days for lunch. The four of us might seem like an unlikely bunch of friends, but we each bring something to the group that makes it work. Max is a neuroscientist in the making, and Tom a gay, freckly surfer who thinks he’s a stand-up comedian. Harriet and Tom are childhood friends, so when Tom arrived at Illumen a couple of years ago he automatically joined our group. If I’m honest, he’d be the first to go if push came to shove. He’s harmless, but his incessant flirting can get extremely tiresome. Harriet mostly bosses him around, which is entertaining.

  Max is from Toronto and moved here in Year Nine. He’s probably the kindest, smartest guy I’ve ever met. He’s also on the school hockey team, a sport which he picked up at lightning speed considering he’d never played it in Canada. Max was hugely into Harriet for a while until she explained why she’d just never be interested in him. We all laugh about it now.

  ‘Did everyone hear the latest episode of the podcast yesterday?’ Tom says, through a mouthful of crisps.

  ‘Yeah, I listened to it this morning. How did Vee even manage to interview the detective? That’s crazy!’ Harriet exclaims.

  ‘The whole thing feels pretty sketchy. Like a court case waiting to happen.’ Max leans over and puts a hand on my arm. ‘Have you got any closer to working out who’s behind it, Ivy?’

  Obviously, I told Max, Tom and Harriet about the conversation with Mrs Abbott. If they get wind of anything, they’ll pass it on to me.

  ‘Nothing, and it’s been a week already. They’re doing a great job at keeping it anonymous even from their sources. Whoever it is, is too good. Clearly someone with some knowledge of technology.’ My stomach sinks. It’s starting to feel like an impossible task – and on top of all my schoolwork too.

  ‘OK, guys … fine. I think it’s time I finally admit … it’s me!’ Tom jumps up on to the bench and stretches his arms out wide. Harriet grabs his arm and yanks him back down.

  ‘Tom, you fucking idiot. Don’t mess around like that. It’s not funny. Also, when it comes to tech, you don’t even know how to use TikTok. So it’s clearly not you, mate.’ Max chuckles and I force a smile.

  ‘The cool kids don’t use TikTok, Harriet …’ He scowls back.

  ‘In all seriousness, it’s got to be someone with a good network. A popular student perhaps?’ Max interjects.

  ‘I don’t know – a popular student feels too obvious. I was thinking it’s someone who’s flying under the radar … who’d avoid suspicion. A teacher maybe? Although I guess it would result in instant dismissal,’ I add.

  ‘Yeah, a very bad career move if you’re found out. To be a teacher here you have to be next-level smart and the tests they make them do are supposed to be absolutely impossible.’ Tom carries on munching his way through his crisp packet, so he’s speaking with his mouth open. Gross.

  ‘Are you talking about the pod
cast?’ A voice I know all too well comes up behind me and I watch as Harriet’s face lights up.

  ‘Look who it is! Nice of you to join us. Take a seat!’ Harriet slides up the bench, making room for Teddy to sit down opposite.

  ‘No, this side of the bench is so much warmer,’ says Tom with an exaggerated wink.

  ‘Down, boy,’ says Harriet with a laugh.

  Teddy smiles at me as he sits next to Harriet and I smile back, an automatic reflex. Why does he have to be so freaking cute? It makes keeping away so much harder.

  ‘We are indeed talking about the mysterious Voice Unknown,’ says Max.

  ‘It’s got to be a journalist, right?’ Teddy says.

  I shrug. ‘Most likely. That’s the direction I’ve been leaning towards, but I still have literally no idea …’

  ‘Guys, did you hear that someone in Year Ten says they heard screaming down the hallway by Vega House the other night?’ As Harriet talks, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. ‘Then someone else said they heard the music that was playing that night on the beach when her body was discovered. What song was it again?’

  ‘Wasn’t it that “Pumped Up Kicks” song?’ says Max. ‘I remember thinking how weird it was. It’s so peppy, but it’s actually about a teen shooting if you listen to the lyrics.’

  ‘Oh God. That’s the one! Yeah, someone said they heard that exact song echoing down the hallway to the dining room! Obviously, it’s all bull. Ghosts and messages from beyond and all that. If Lola really was a ghost, pretty sure she wouldn’t come back here …’

  They all seem to be vibing off this morbidity, these ghosts, noises, memories of Lola … and my breathing is getting shallower. Then I feel a hand on my knee under the table and know immediately it’s the firm, familiar grip of Teddy. I lace my fingers round his and squeeze. I know I shouldn’t be encouraging this after our last talk, but I can’t help it. This conversation is stressing me out and I can feel my throat closing up. In that moment, Teddy knew I needed reassurance, and without having to say anything he gave it to me.

  ‘Anyway, guys, enough talk of death and ghosts. Harriet, how’s Cassie?’ Teddy interrupts while squeezing my hand back.