"No, wait a minute. She's got something,” she’d said. “We’re all so busy that we hardly notice what we eat anymore. But think about it. The food has changed. We’re now eating a tiny piece of fruit for dessert, and the breakfast cereal has no sugar in it. And has anyone noticed that our afternoon tea has gotten really skimpy?"
At the time Amanda hadn’t given the girls’ observations any credence. She’d been too busy thinking about the pink sugar, the gluppy things, and Nick, but now she wondered. Why the change? She hadn’t heard anything about new nutritional guidelines, and she was sure Thrillkill would have made a big deal if there were any. Perhaps the school was trying to save money. He probably wouldn’t tell the students about that.
Amanda wondered how many bags of sugar the cook had taken. They hadn’t counted them but she knew the woman had stolen a lot of them. She wasn’t sure if she could document the number, but if she could get to the cook’s account records she might be able to. Then again, she had taken pictures of the cook acting suspicious. She might be able to extrapolate from those. By quantifying the sugar, she should be able to ascertain the scale of whatever it was that was going on. Of course it had nothing to do with her father, but at least she could be productive about something.
Maybe she could get a rough idea of the quantity by using Editta’s methods. If the number of calories per student per day had declined by 350 and there were 200 students, then the kids were consuming 70,000 fewer calories per day. She could throw in the staff as well. There were twenty teachers and twenty staff, which, added to the number of students made 240 mouths to feed, although some of the teachers and staff came and went, but she wouldn’t worry about that for now. That was a total of 84,000 fewer calories per day for everyone. Now, how many calories in a bag of sugar?
A five-pound bag of sugar held 11.35 cups. Each cup of sugar contained 773 calories, which meant that there were a whopping 8773.55 calories in a bag. Divide 84,000 calories per day by 8773.55 calories and you came up with ten bags a day, or seventy bags per week. That was three hundred fifty pounds of sugar per week, more than a ton every six weeks! That was a lot for one middle-aged woman to shift, even using trolleys.
What could such huge quantities of sugar be used for? The idea of fencing them had been something of a joke. She’d thought of that only because she’d heard of fences. She didn’t really think the cook was meeting some gold-chain-wearing sleazebag who was selling sugar on the black market. It was silly, and especially so because all the sugar she had seen was pink. It was too easy to spot and trace.
But there must be a reason. Editta and Amphora had been correct that the school was using less sugar. Amanda’s clothes were so loose on her now that there could be no doubt of that. Come to think of it, Amphora was looking sleeker these days too. So it was undeniable that the cook was diverting sugar and trying to cover up her theft by skimping on sweet foods. Didn’t she think anyone would notice?
What if she were selling it to someone? Who would need so much sugar? A company that manufactured baked goods or soft drinks or something like that? Why couldn’t they buy their sugar the regular way? Perhaps there was some use for sugar she wasn’t aware of and someone was buying up mass quantities for that, but again, why not buy it the usual way? Of course they had tossed around the idea of shortages driving prices up and she wondered if that could be the reason. When gas was in short supply, prices increased and oil companies made huge profits. When there had been a bad coffee season the price of coffee had risen. Her mother had complained about that. Why not the same with sugar?
Was there a sugar supplier who was trying to manipulate the market? Where did sugar come from? Sugar beets? Sugar cane? Didn’t those come from the Caribbean? What could that have to do with Lake Windermere? Why would anyone transport sugar all that way just to get rid of it?
The whole thing was ridiculous. But just the same, Amanda thought that revisiting the pantry and the secret room might yield some clues. As long as she couldn’t figure out what to do about her father, why not?
She threw the book on her nightstand and walked down to the kitchen. There was no one around, so she carefully pushed open the door. The place was empty, but there was a big pot bubbling on the stove. Did the cook always leave open flames unattended? Amanda wasn’t sure what to do so she went to the stove and turned off the burner, just to be on the safe side. She’d be in trouble if anyone saw her, but since no one was there she wasn’t worried.
She sneaked over to the pantry and opened the door. As with the door to the secret room, something was in the way and she could only open it a little. She reached inside, flipped on the light switch, looked in, and gasped. There was the cook, lying in a pool of blood with her head in a bag of sugar.
22
Secret Room Redux
The kitchen was as silent as a tomb and now as deadly too. Amanda froze for a split second, then in a very undetective-like manner ran screaming from the room. “There’s been a murder!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. All the kids who were walking to and from classes started screaming too. “What do you mean, a murder?” “Who’s dead?” “Who did it?” “Thrillkill is dead?” “Stegelmeyer is dead?” “The school is being closed?”
At that moment Professor Buck, the Profiling teacher, a dark-skinned older man with a smooth pate and rimless glasses, was walking by and said loudly, “What’s going on?” He was such a commanding presence that everyone stopped talking at once.
“Professor, the cook has been murdered,” Amanda gasped. She was finding it hard to catch her breath.
“Well, where is she?” he said, more calmly than Amanda could have.
“I’ll show you.”
“Nobody move,” said Professor Buck. “We need to preserve the evidence.”
Amanda led the teacher to the kitchen and then to the pantry. He leaned in as far as he could and felt the cook’s forehead, then her pulse. “Yep, dead as a doornail,” he said. “Young lady, have you got your phone?”
“Yes, sir.” She dug into her pocket and pulled the phone out.
“I want you to text the school doctor at once,” said Professor Buck. “You know him?”
“No, sir.”
“Mr. Tunnel. And Headmaster Thrillkill. Tell them to come immediately.” Professor Buck’s bald head gleamed in the stark light from the pantry bulb.
“Yes, sir.”
Amanda sent the texts and removed herself from the crime scene, leaving Professor Buck to guard the corpse. Soon the doctor came running in, followed by the headmaster. The crowd whispered and murmured. Having found the body, Amanda was something of a star.
“Yes, in a pool of blood,” she said to one student. “With her head in a bag of sugar, I think. It might have been salt,” she said to another. “I couldn’t get into the pantry. She was blocking the door,” she said to yet another.
The students buzzed like a hive of bumblebees. Then she saw Nick.
“Nick,” said Amanda. “Have you heard?”
“Yes.” He lowered his voice. “We should go look at that room before anyone finds out about it.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, matching his volume. “We have to tell them. We can’t keep this sugar thing a secret any longer.”
“We will,” he said. “But let’s just take a peek before they declare the room off limits.”
“What if we disturb something important?”
“We won’t. We’ll be extra careful. Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her away.
Instead of going out through the east common room as they usually did, he cut through to the north common room, which was closer. It belonged to Father Brown House. There were black and white photographs of 19th century New York on the walls and the room had been set up to mimic a museum, with red Danish-style couches, bare wood floors, and empty glass display cases. Amanda wondered what the gremlins were planning to put inside them.
“I don’t feel good about this,” she said.
“It will be fine. You want to be a great detective, don’t you? You told me you did.” He stopped and looked into her eyes.
“Yes, but what if—”
“No buts. Just a tiny peek. We won’t even go in.”
“No, we won’t because we can’t. That door barely opens.”
“See? There’s no way we can disturb anything. What’s the harm?”
“You’re right as usual.” She smiled at him. He grinned back.
They started off again, came to the third door, and entered. Amanda had thought it was weird that this door wasn’t locked the first time they saw it, and now she thought so again. But if it had been locked they never would have been able to see the sugar and the gluppy things, so it was probably a good thing it wasn’t. Maybe the custodians figured there was nothing valuable there so why secure it.
Once more she turned on her light, and once more she started the video recorder. The stairs were now clear, the gluppy thing from before probably having found its way to a new food source. When they got to the bottom, Amanda was surprised to find that the door was no longer obstructed.
“I can open it,” she said, pushing. The door moved easily now.
“Come on,” said Nick. “Let’s have a look.”
But when she opened the door she got a shock. All the sugar and all the gluppy things were gone! Barely a trace remained. What was there, though, lying in a corner, was a glinty thing that looked like a gold watch.
“What’s going on?” said Amanda.
“I have no idea. What is that over there?” Nick said pointing toward the corner.
“It looks like a watch.” She moved closer. Her shoes stuck to the floor and made a glicking sound.
“Let’s see what it is,” he said moving to pick it up.
“We can’t,” she said. “Evidence.”
“Sure we can. Have you got your gloves?”
“Yes, but—”
“You won’t disturb anything. Not with your gloves on. Please, Amanda. Let’s just find out what it is.” He gave her a puppy dog look.
“Okay. Let me get them.” He knew she couldn’t resist. Unfair tactics. “Would you hold this, please?”
She gave him the phone and put on her gloves, then tiptoed to the watch and picked it up, glicking with each step. It too was sticky from the sugar.
“Oh no!” she said, looking carefully and turning it around in her hand. Her heart started beating very fast and she got a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” He craned his neck to see whatever it was that she was seeing.
She turned the watch over and back again. There was no denying it. “This watch.”
“Yes?”
“It’s my father’s!”
23
Threats
As Amanda focused on the gold object in her hand, the light it reflected seemed to intensify and she blinked.
“What do you mean it’s your father’s?” said Nick, grabbing the watch from Amanda. “It can’t be.” He held it up in what little light there was.
“It is,” said Amanda. “Look. It’s got my mother’s inscription on it. ‘To my darling Herb. All my love, Lila.’” She pointed to the tiny cursive letters.
Nick turned the watch over and looked at the back. “There must be some mistake.”
“No. It’s his. I recognize that scratch. See?” She pointed to a hairline fracture on the face.
“There could be other watches with the same inscription.”
“‘To my darling Herb. All my love, Lila’? I don’t think so.”
“Well, what is it doing here?” he said.
Amanda hung her head. She wasn’t looking forward to discussing her father’s disappearance, and she was afraid Nick might be upset that she hadn’t confided in him. She wasn’t sure she could even get the words out.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What’s that?” He was watching her with such concern that she almost couldn’t stand it. No one had ever looked at her like that before.
She hesitated. If she told him it would seem all the more real, no longer contained in the protective shell provided by the teachers and the headmaster. But maybe Nick could help somehow, and he was so concerned that she felt she had to. Otherwise she’d be letting him down.
“My father’s been kidnapped.”
“What?!” He practically dropped the watch. “Oops, sorry.”
“I found out about it earlier. Thrillkill told me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, moving to take her hand.
“I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I hope you understand.” She looked at him but his face didn’t register. Everything seemed to be closing in on her again.
“Of course I understand. But Amanda, this is terrible.” He held her hand tight.
“I know.” She was so upset she didn’t even notice that he’d touched her. It was all too much. The room started to spin and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.
“Did they ask for a ransom? Whoa, are you all right?” He reached out to steady her.
“No. I think they did it for revenge.” The waves were still coming. “I feel so dizzy.”
“Here, lean against the wall. Hold onto me. That’s right.” She rested her back against the sticky wall and held onto his forearms. “What do you mean?”
“My father used to be a prosecutor in Los Angeles. He has a lot of enemies. Ugh, I’m all sticky.”
“Me too. We’re a right pair.” He smiled. “But surely they wouldn’t follow him here.”
“Probably not,” she said. “But maybe he’s made some new ones.”
“In this short amount of time? I don’t think that’s very likely. Feeling better?” He was looking completely doe-eyed now.
“I don’t either, but who then? A bit better, yes. Thanks.” She let go of his arms and felt her head. “Now my hair’s all sticky.”
He reached for a lock of her hair and took it between his fingers. “Hm, so it is. Well, that’s easy to fix. Look, I don’t know what’s going on but we’ll figure this out together. It does seem that your father has been here, though.” He looked around the room as if to validate his statement.
“I know this is his watch, but why would he have been here? He has nothing to do with the school.”
“He is descended from a famous detective, and his daughter goes to the school.”
“Sure, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“I don’t either, but obviously it does.”
“Maybe. But what happened to the sugar? And the gluppy things?”
“I don’t know,” said Nick. “Let’s go upstairs and sort through the evidence.”
He circled his arm around her and they made their way back up the stairs. He didn’t seem to care who saw them. He supported her until they got back inside, onlookers be damned. It seemed that there was such a to-do that no one noticed anyway, or cared, if they did.
When they returned to the hallway outside the kitchen, Professor Buck took them aside.
“I said no one was to leave,” he said roughly.
“We were just outside,” said Nick politely.
“That’s leaving,” said the teacher. “Where were you?”
Amanda looked at Nick. They weren’t going to get out of this one. “There’s something we have to tell you,” she said. Nick motioned to her not to say anything but she spoke anyway. “We need to show you something, Professor.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” said Professor Buck.
“There’s a secret room that had a bunch of sugar in it, and some slimy things came and ate it, and now it’s empty.” If she hadn’t been so out of it she’d have been embarrassed to tell such a tale, but now she was quite matter of fact.
“You what?” said Professor Buck.
“Yes, Professor,” said Nick, giving in. “Please let us show you.”
“This had better be good,” said the teacher, following them to t
he room and carefully stepping around gluppy thing residue.
But when they opened the door for him, he was unimpressed. “This room is empty.”
“I know, but it wasn’t,” said Amanda.
He glared down at her from his more than six feet. “First of all, you are not supposed to be in this area. And second, if there was something here where has it gone?”
“We don’t know, Professor, but I have proof,” said Amanda.
“What proof?”
“I took a video,” she said. “See?” She took out her phone and played the video from their first investigation.
The teacher showed no reaction whatsoever. “I’ll need a copy of that,” he said, turning to go.
“Yes, sir. I’ll put it on the intranet and send you a link.”
“See that you do.”
“There’s something else,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“See there in the corner? It’s my father’s watch.” They’d put it back so as not to disturb the evidence, even though they’d done just that. At least she’d worn gloves.
“What do you mean your father’s watch?”
“It’s inscribed, sir. There’s no mistake.” She took out the gloves and offered them to the teacher.
“Your father who’s been kidnapped? That father?” he said, ignoring the gloves.
“I only have one, sir.” She tried again.
“What is your father’s watch doing here?” Professor Buck looked at the gloves with disdain and shook his head. Amanda put them back in her bag.
“I don’t know, but we can only guess that he’s been here. We don’t know when.”
“Was the watch here when you took the video?”
“We don’t know,” she said looking at Nick. “There was too much junk in the room and the door wouldn’t open very far. We couldn’t go in.”
Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 18
