Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set

by Paula Berinstein

  At the end of class, Professor Browning assigned homework. The students were to practice drawing from memory. She didn’t expect them to be completely successful, but the exercise should help them hone their powers of observation (Professor Sidebotham would have approved of that) and get comfortable with their materials, which were to be charcoal and pencil.

  As the class was breaking up, Amanda turned to talk to Ivy. When she turned back, there was a mustache on her picture of Clive and she could see David Wiffle laughing. She picked up her pad, caught up with him, and clobbered him over the head. Now she was in for it but she didn’t care. It was time that kid learned a lesson, and she was willing to take whatever punishment resulted just to see that happen.

  Amanda knew David had provoked her on purpose. It was obvious that he had been waiting for an opportunity to get her expelled, and he may have found it.

  “Professor, Professor,” he yelled. “Amanda hit me!” He was holding his head and groaning in a way that seemed fake.

  Professor Browning came toddling out of her classroom. It was a wonder she hadn’t broken her ankle by now the way those heels were so skinny and tall. They click, click, clicked on the hard floor in an angry-sounding manner.

  “What’s happened?” she said. “Mr. Wiffle, are you injured?” She took hold of the boy’s hand and moved it out of the way so she could see his head.

  “Yes, Professor. I need to go to the nurse,” said Wiffle. “Amanda hit me.”

  “Are you bleeding? Let me see.” She felt his head, then turned it this way and that. “No blood. All right. Mr. Bramble,” she turned to Gordon, who was looking on with a smirk on his face, “will you please see Mr. Wiffle to the nurse. Now.”

  Gordon stepped up and winked at David, and the two turned to leave.

  “And Mr. Wiffle,” Professor Browning called after him, “come see me as soon as you’ve finished. I’ll be in my office.”

  The two boys left. Amanda could hear them whispering and giggling. Simon, who was standing nearby, shook his head. Amphora and Ivy were trying to pretend they weren’t interested and moved a discreet distance away.

  “Now, Miss Lester,” said the teacher, somehow managing to keep her balance, “tell me what happened.”

  “I hit him,” said Amanda. She could hear a gasp from Ivy and Amphora’s direction. “He deserved it and I finally cracked. I’m ready for my punishment.” She held out her wrists as if waiting for the handcuffs.

  The teacher cracked up. “Good one, Miss Lester. You have a flair for the dramatic. I like that.”

  Amanda looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “I saw what he did to you,” said Professor Browning. “He’ll be punished. Now I don’t condone what you did, but I can understand why you did it. If this happens again, try to be calm. Now off you go. You’ve got work to do.”

  Amanda couldn’t believe her ears. She could hear more gasps from Ivy and Amphora, whose backs were facing her. Simon was grinning. “I, uh, thank you, Professor,” Amanda said.

  The teacher smiled and returned to her classroom in a slightly less noisy fashion than the way she’d left it. The four friends and Nigel practically ran to the common room.

  “Did you see that?” said Amphora on the way. “Wow.”

  “I know,” said Amanda. “I never expected that to happen.”

  “You Americans stick together, don’t you?” said Simon.

  “Si-monnnnn,” said the three girls in unison. Nigel jumped up on his hind legs and did a little dance.

  “Just having you on,” he said. “Way to go, Amanda.”

  Amanda beamed. At least one thing was going her way. Although when David found out, he’d be even more ruthless. He hated their little clique with a passion. If only he would use that energy for something productive, he’d probably make a crackerjack detective.

  “You do know he’s going to be even more dangerous now,” said Amphora.

  “Yes,” sighed Amanda. “But I think Thrillkill is on my side so I’m not too worried.”

  She never would have been confident of Thrillkill’s support until recently. The man was normally pretty intimidating. Lately, though, he’d been so nice it almost seemed that he’d had a personality transplant.

  “Speaking of Thrillkill,” Simon said when they’d arrived at the common room, which was decorated like an orchestra pit, “I’ve worked out how I’m going to make the listening devices. It shouldn’t be too long now. I’m going to use the 3D printer to create the parts. I got some open source plans online.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s good,” said Amanda. She leaned against the Steinway piano the gremlins had installed, hitting a few keys in the process. They tinkled, ting ting. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “You,” came a voice. Everyone looked at the door, even Ivy, who inclined her head. David Wiffle and Gordon Bramble were standing there. “You’d better watch out,” said David looking straight at Amanda.

  “What are you doing here?” said Amanda. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the nurse’s?”

  “Forget that,” said Wiffle. “You hit me and didn’t get in trouble. I’m lodging a formal complaint. You’re going to be out of here at last.” He let out a guffaw.

  “I’m glad you think that’s funny,” said Amanda, “because you’re going to need something to keep you going when you find out that you’re the one in trouble, not me.” She pulled a finger across her neck as if to say, “It’s the guillotine for you.”

  “No way,” said Wiffle. “You assaulted me. You’re dead, Lester. What a great place this will be without you. I can’t wait.”

  “Shut up, David,” said Amphora. “You’re nothing but a loser. No one likes you.”

  “And you,” Wiffle said to Amphora. “You’re going to get in a lot of trouble if you don’t stop hanging around that new cook.”

  “What?” said Ivy, Amanda, and Simon together. They looked at Amphora, who was blushing.

  “That’s right,” said Wiffle. “You didn’t know? She’s in love with the new cook. I’ve seen them together.”

  “Get out of here, David,” said Ivy. “Why are you so mean? And you, Gordon. Why do you waste your time with him?” This definitely did not sound like Ivy, who never said a nasty word to anyone. She really must have heard too much of something. She was downright prickly.

  “Ha ha,” said Gordon. “How little you know. We’re planning the most amazing—”

  “Be quiet,” said David. “It’s none of their business.”

  “Oh really?” said Simon. “What’s that? Your new diaper business?”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” said Amanda. “What is wrong with all of you? We’re thirteen years old, not two. Or at least we’re about to be. Chill out. David, you could be a great detective but you ruin everything for yourself. You should get a clue. Grow up and be competent. That should keep you busy.”

  “If you only knew,” said David.

  “Yeah,” said Gordon, who never seemed to be capable of speaking for himself.

  Both boys stuck out their tongues and stormed out of the common room. Amanda felt a pang of sympathy for them. David really was going to ruin his future if he wasn’t careful. And Gordon was going to get himself caught in the undertow. These two boys were headed for failure, and it seemed that there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  7

  Scars and Bruises

  On Wednesday morning Editta showed up at last. No one had seen or heard her go into her room the night before, and no one knew exactly when she’d arrived, but there she was in Crime Lab. She looked terrible—sleep-deprived and red-faced—as if she’d been crying. When the kids asked her what was going on, she simply said she’d had some bad luck and didn’t offer an explanation.

  “We’ve been really worried about you,” said Ivy. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She touched Editta’s arm.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Editta vaguely. “I really am okay.”

  But she didn’t look ok
ay, and she didn’t seem it either. Amanda tried not to show it, but she was more worried seeing Editta than she had been wondering where she was.

  “What have I missed?” Editta continued. “Anything important?” She didn’t seem like she cared.

  “Actually, yes,” said Simon, removing his fedora. “Something important to the teachers is missing and they’re all worried about it. Amanda and Ivy have heard them talking. It seems serious.”

  “What is it?”

  “No one knows,” said Simon too nonchalantly. Amanda felt irritated with him. Sometimes he seemed to be taking the problem seriously, but too often he acted like his usual flippant self.

  “This isn’t good,” said Editta morosely. “I knew it would happen.”

  “You know what would happen?” said Amanda sharply. Did Editta know something about the thing? If she did, she’d better come clean right here and now.

  “There were three deaths at the school last term: the cook, the doctor, and the teacher the Moriartys killed. That’s incredibly bad luck, especially since they were all murders. Something terrible is going to happen. I just know it. We have to find whatever it is and stop it.” Amanda didn’t agree with her reasoning, but she was glad to see her friend take an interest.

  “Technically it’s four deaths,” said Simon, assuming Editta’s usual role of bean counter.

  “You don’t need to remind us about that,” said Amphora. “Can’t you see how upset Amanda is? Anyway, technically it isn’t four deaths because Nick died in London.”

  “Can we please change the subject?” said Ivy.

  “What’s missing?” said Editta, getting the message.

  “We don’t know,” said Amanda, relieved not to have to think about Nick for a few seconds.

  “No idea?” said Editta.

  “Not really,” said Amphora.

  “But you know something is definitely not where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Yes,” said Ivy. “We’ve heard the teachers talking about it.”

  “Why don’t you ask them?” said Editta.

  “We can’t,” said Amanda. “They don’t want anyone to know. We heard them say so. Who can say what would happen if they knew we knew?”

  “It seems a right pickle, doesn’t it?” said Editta, turning to the front of the room.

  The other kids looked at each other as if to say, “What in the world was that?” Ivy sighed so loudly that Amanda knew exactly what she was feeling. She hoped Editta hadn’t heard. Not that she would have noticed. She seemed to have relocated to another world.

  After lunch came Amanda’s favorite class: Disguise. The teacher, Professor Glassina Tumble, onetime costume designer for Hollywood blockbuster films, including some of Darius Plover’s, had impressed upon the first-years how important disguise was, especially with facial and gait recognition software now able to see through most attempts to confuse the observer. Because of Amanda’s film background, she not only loved disguise but was extremely good at it. Last term she’d got the kids all fired up with her inventive monster makeup, and everyone was looking forward to their new projects.

  “Today, class, we’re going to start a new unit on bruises and scars,” said Professor Tumble. “Given your enthusiasm for bodily flaws, I know you’re going to enjoy this topic, but as always, please take it absolutely seriously. Poor disguise isn’t just aesthetically offensive. It can kill you.

  “Now, some of you may find this unit a bit, well, to be honest, sickening. There will be gore involved. However, you are professionals and I trust you to learn to take disgusting sights, sounds, feels, and smells in stride. Miss Lester, I hear you have a remedy for nausea that may be beneficial to the class.”

  “Yes, Professor. Gingersnaps. They work very well.”

  “Excellent,” said Professor Tumble. “I understand these are available from the new cook. Is that correct, Miss Lester?”

  Amanda had no idea. She hadn’t even seen the new cook, and neither Thrillkill nor the teachers had mentioned anything about gingersnaps being available.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” said Amphora out of nowhere.

  Simon’s head whirled around. Ivy chuckled and Nigel wagged his tail. Gingersnaps helped dogs too.

  “Excellent, Miss Kapoor,” said the teacher. “Then I urge you to take advantage of this valuable Legatum perk.” She giggled. She obviously thought she’d said something funny. Amanda would have agreed with her if she hadn’t been distracted by Amphora’s comment. Something was going on with her and the kitchen and Amanda meant to find out what it was.

  “Now as I was saying, bruises and scars. Yes, Mr. Wiffle.” The teacher lifted her chin in David’s direction.

  “Professor, will we be doing scabs?” said the Wiffle kid.

  “Yes. We absolutely will be doing scabs and I expect them to be realistic. Mr. Bramble?”

  “Professor, do you want us to do oozing wounds?” said Gordon.

  The class laughed. Well, the boys did, anyway. Some of the girls looked a bit pinched.

  “Yes, Mr. Bramble. We will be doing wounds of all kinds. Miss Snizzle?”

  “Are you going to want us to do pimples?” said Owla Snizzle from Amanda’s dorm floor.

  Everyone laughed even harder.

  “Yes, Miss Snizzle, but not in this unit. Yes, Mr. Binkle?” She looked at Simon, who had risen to ask his question.

  “Will we be doing moles and lesions?” said Simon.

  More laughter, this time from everyone. The class was really getting into it now.

  “The same as I told Miss Snizzle. Yes, but later. Yes, Mr. Holmes?”

  Uh oh. Amanda didn’t know what Holmes was going to say, but whatever it was she was sure he’d be showing off. She was still feeling guilty about not liking him, but if she was honest with herself she had to admit she couldn’t stand him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart and pleasant, except when he’d argued with her about the film. It was that he was too much of those things. She wondered if his flaws, for he had to have some, were anything like his ancestor’s. Sherlock Holmes had been an egomaniac and a drug addict.

  “Professor,” said Holmes. “Will we be studying which types of objects make various types of bruises and wounds?”

  Now that was an excellent question. Amanda couldn’t believe how smart Holmes was. She almost reached for a gingersnap, he made her so sick.

  “Smashing question, Mr. Holmes. The answer is yes. We will be studying the shapes, colors, depths, and other characteristics of injuries produced by a variety of objects. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Professor Sidebotham assigned you some complementary problems to help you round out your experience in this area. Professor Hoxby as well.”

  “Professor,” Holmes continued. “Is it possible for a person with dark skin to seem like they have light skin and vice versa?”

  The laughter died out immediately. Everyone seemed shocked that Holmes would ask such a pointed question—every kid of every race and nationality, and there were quite a few different ones in the class. Holmes’s mention of race obviously made everyone uncomfortable. Amanda was stunned. Professor Tumble, however, took the query in stride.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “Skin color is as much a part of disguise as wigs and facial features. We will be studying how to alter it realistically. And may I say, Mr. Holmes, you have lovely skin. I think we will use you as our model for that unit. You don’t have any objection, do you?”

  On the contrary, Holmes was loving it. He beamed. “No, ma’am,” he said. “Not at all. I’d be honored.”

  Hate him, hate him, hate him! Where was that gingersnap? He was insufferable and Amanda really was feeling queasy now.

  She looked around. Simon’s expression and position hadn’t changed. He obviously wasn’t bothered one way or the other. Typical. Ivy was looking a bit pink, which set off her copper hair in an aesthetically pleasing way but signified that she, too, was a bit perturbed by this discussion. Editta wasn’t paying attention, and Amphora was s
taring at Holmes as if he were Adonis himself. Come to think of it, a number of the girls were getting gooey-eyed. Oh great. Now he thinks he’s a big Casanova. Amanda reached into her bag and surreptitiously broke off a piece of gingersnap, bent over, and slipped it into her mouth.

  Professor Tumble was oblivious to these reactions. She claimed to be hard of hearing, but she was perfectly capable of absorbing what was going on when she wanted to. Amanda suspected that she functioned in a similar way with regard to seeing. As was favored by so many of the teachers, she told the class to divide into teams of two, with each pair taking on a separate issue. At the end of the unit they would present the disguises and the methods they used to create them. The students would then vote on how effective the disguises were.

  In theory this approach sounded fine—until Amanda learned that she’d been paired with Holmes. Then it was panic time. She knew throwing herself on the teacher’s mercy wouldn’t get her anywhere, so she didn’t try. She was so upset, though, that she couldn’t think of a strategy for handling the situation. She simply started to tremble and hoped no one would notice.

  Simon and Amphora had been assigned to work together—a combination destined to create sparks, and not the good kind. Ivy was to work with David Wiffle’s sidekick, Gordon Bramble. Never one to take the high road, Gordon was annoyed because Ivy was blind, and he didn’t hesitate to show it. However, rather than saying anything to the teacher, he took his annoyance out on Ivy herself. How was he supposed to work with her on something so visual? She was going to ruin his grade, his parents would be upset, and on and on. Ivy had no sympathy for this nonsense and told him to suck it up, whereupon he looked completely shocked and shut his mouth. Editta was stuck with David Wiffle, but she didn’t seem to mind. Thinking about her non-reaction, Amanda realized that Editta usually didn’t mind anything unless she considered it bad luck, and apparently having to work with David didn’t qualify.