Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set

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Amanda Lester, Detective Box Set Page 49

by Paula Berinstein


  “I’m not part of that deal,” she said. “But you’re okay and that’s the main thing.”

  He brushed himself off and said, “Of course I’m okay. I’ve never fallen off one of these things in my life, and you are part of the deal.”

  “No, it’s just you and Amphora, and how many times have you ridden them?” Amanda said. It was the kind of thing Editta would have come out with.

  “Billions. Seriously, I know what I’m doing. And no, it’s supposed to be all of us.”

  “Well, as far as I can see, this isn’t any more efficient than walking. In fact, it’s less so. And forget it. I’m not playing.”

  “Agreed,” he said pleasantly. “I’ll have to make some adjustments. Okay, I’ll let you off this time.”

  “Not right now, I hope,” she said. “And thank you, oh great and powerful wizard.”

  “‘Course not. I’ll do it tonight. It will be awesome. You’ll see. You can try one too if you want. You’re welcome.”

  Just then Amanda heard Amphora yell, “Go away.” Then she heard, “I won’t bother you. I just want to see the tunnels.” It was Gordon. “Go that way,” she heard Amphora say. “Fine,” said Gordon. She could hear the sound of Gordon’s feet stomping away.

  Amanda and Simon trudged back to the clearing, the roof of which had been carefully painted to look like blue sky graced by a few fluffy white clouds. Amanda thought it looked very L.A. “What was that about?” said Simon.

  “Gordon,” said Amphora. “He wanted to come with us.”

  “No he didn’t,” said Ivy. “He was perfectly content to be on his own.”

  “How can you believe a guy like that?” said Amphora. “You’re too nice.”

  “It’s not a question of believing what he says. I can tell what he’s thinking by the tone of his voice. He meant it.”

  “Oh, right,” said Amphora. “When are you going to give that talk on audio observation? I really need that.”

  “I think we could all use some tips,” said Amanda.

  “It’s almost ready,” said Ivy. “But I can tell you right now how I knew Gordon was telling the truth.”

  “Oh?” said Amanda. “How’s that?”

  “His voice wasn’t shaking and it didn’t go up high. If he’d been lying his voice wouldn’t have sounded normal.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” said Amphora.

  “You will,” said Ivy.

  The regular basements, if you could call them that, benefitted from the gremlins’ influence and felt welcoming, but the tunnels were downright creepy, or at least the one the group had chosen was. It was dark, close, knobby, and twisty, with a plethora of tempting tributaries leading off the sides. Amanda couldn’t stop thinking about what a great movie setting it would make, and Simon was loving it, but Amphora was freaking out and suggesting that they turn back at two-minute intervals. She kept thinking she was hearing weird noises. Ivy told her there was nothing there but them and that she should take her listening device out, to which Amphora replied that she had removed it ages ago and she was still hearing bumps, shuffling, and banshees wailing. Fortunately Simon kept his mouth shut or Ivy would have collected enough money for them to go out to dinner.

  Soon they began to see drawers in some of the walls. These looked kind of like those safe deposit boxes you see in bank vaults. They were about the same size and of similar arrangement. Each one had two locks, just like in the bank. The kids wondered if any of them might contain the whatsit. (What a hunt for a needle in a haystack that would be!) When they had passed hundreds of the things in the tunnel, they came upon various clearings and grottoes that were studded with them. A few of these had collapsed, and despite the danger of falling rock the kids were excited about the prospect of exploring them. It looked like they had pieces of paper inside.

  “I wouldn’t go in there,” said Amphora at one ruined clearing. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “It’ll be okay,” said Amanda. “If we could make it through the exploded garage we can do this.”

  “Not the same,” said Amphora. “There could be another aftershock.”

  “Yes, but we’ll be in and out in a flash,” said Simon. Amanda thought he sounded like he believed he was some kind of superhero, but she had to agree with his logic. The odds of something falling on them in the two minutes they’d be there were minuscule.

  “Whatever you guys think is fine with me,” said Ivy.

  “Let’s go,” said Simon.

  He and Amanda stepped carefully into the collapsed grotto in front of them, took out their phones, and started snapping away. Taking pictures rather than reading the pieces of paper on the spot seemed like a productive use of their time and would allow the others to see the findings too. Amphora kept protesting that there had to be creepy crawly things in there, but neither Amanda nor Simon paid any attention to her. They were so absorbed in what they were doing that they wouldn’t have noticed a skeleton tapping them on the shoulder.

  “Time,” said Amphora suddenly.

  Amanda slued around to face her. “Not yet.” She turned back to the compartments and kept clicking.

  “Yep. Two minutes.”

  “Thirty seconds,” said Simon. “Hang on.” He snapped madly, each click coming closer and closer to the previous one. “Ouch! My finger slipped. Hang on.”

  Amphora tapped her foot, which made a weird uneven rhythm with the clicking of the two cameras. Tap, click, click, click, tap, tap, click, tap, click click. After ten seconds she said, “Time.” Click, click.

  “It is not,” said Ivy. “Let them work.” Click, click, click.

  “Is too,” said Amphora. Click.

  “You’re distracting them,” said Ivy. Click, click, click.

  “Time,” said Amphora. Tap, click, click.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Amanda. “Be quiet. We’ll be there in a second.” Click, click.

  “Three seconds,” said Amphora. Tap, tap, click, click, tap.

  “Please,” said Ivy. Click, click.

  “It’s dangerous,” hissed Amphora. “How would you feel if they were killed?” Click, click, click.

  “They’re not going to be killed,” said Ivy. Click, click.

  “You don’t know that.” Click.

  Suddenly Simon and Amanda were standing next to the two girls with broad smiles on their faces. “We got ‘em,” said Amanda. “Let’s go.”

  Amphora gave them a pout, faced toward the tunnel, and continued to walk. When they didn’t follow, she turned around and said, “Are you coming?”

  After what seemed like a long time, the kids reached the farthest end of the tunnel, which opened onto the lake. This was not the famous Lake Windermere, but the smaller Lake Enchanto, which was every bit as beautiful but more intimate. Wild peacocks lived around the edges and their calls could be heard at all hours. Amanda had even seen some peachicks on campus. They had the silliest expressions on their faces and they made her laugh.

  Between the tunnel and the lake lay three gates one after the other. The middle one was damaged, probably in the earthquake from what they gathered. When the kids looked through, they could see a hidden cove that housed a small dock with a couple of small boats bearing the names Bacon and Eggs tied to it.

  Now they faced a dilemma. They had to let Professor Thrillkill know that the gates were no longer secure, but they didn’t want him to know they’d been there. If he found out that they’d wandered around in the basements, he’d want to know why, and then they’d have to tell him that they knew about the whatsit, and who knew where that might land them? However the lack of security was a serious problem. If any of the entrances to the school were to be penetrable, criminals could walk right in.

  Amphora suggested that they get Gordon to tell the headmaster, which put the other kids off so much that she started to argue and had to pay a hefty fine. They didn’t like Wiffle’s friend, but they drew the line at entrapment. Aside from taunting them, Gordon had never really ha
rmed them. Maybe he could be redeemed at some point, or even turned. Now that would be something to behold. But it certainly wasn’t their first order of business.

  “We have to come clean,” said Amanda. “Thrillkill is so preoccupied he won’t be mad. He’ll be glad we told him. It’s important to guard the school.”

  “Maybe we can let him know anonymously,” said Ivy. “Type up a note and leave it in his office or something.”

  “How are we going to get by Drusilla Canoodle?” said Amanda. Ms. Canoodle was Legatum’s admissions officer, and she sat very close to Thrillkill.

  “Do it after hours,” said Simon, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth.

  “Isn’t his office locked then?” said Ivy.

  “No,” said Amanda. “He’s always there. Especially these days.”

  “Well, then, there’s a good chance of him seeing us,” said Ivy.

  “Tell one of the other teachers,” said Amphora quietly.

  The three kids stopped and stared at her. It was an excellent idea, and completely obvious. Why none of them had thought of it they couldn’t imagine.

  “Professor Also,” said Amanda.

  “Professor Ducey,” said Ivy.

  “Professor Tumble,” said Amphora.

  “Wait a minute,” said Simon, chomping on his gum. “This isn’t going to work. Telling any of them is the same as telling Thrillkill. We have to tell him. If there are consequences, there are consequences.”

  This didn’t sound like the kid who just last term had been terrified of expulsion. Of course he’d had good reason then. Thrillkill had let him enter Legatum provisionally. The ancestor who qualified him to attend was so iffy that the school had balked at admitting him. Because of that he had almost been kicked out for cutting a class. He had spent the entire term walking on thin ice and had been a bit of a basket case about it. Now he was fearless?

  “Look,” he said noisily. “I can see you’re all skeptical.” That they were. Even though you couldn’t see Ivy’s eyes behind her sunglasses it was obvious that she wasn’t subscribing to this point of view. “But if we don’t tell him he’ll figure it out. If nothing else, Wiffle will tell him, or Gordon. Then he’ll think we’re covering up something, and you know how much worse that will be. We have to come clean, and the sooner the better. If he doesn’t like it, at least we’ll know and we won’t sit around worrying.”

  This argument made a lot of sense. Thrillkill would not abide being lied to. Either would any of the teachers. The kids resolved to tell him as soon as they got back.

  But before they could get to Thrillkill’s office they saw the headmaster talking to Professor Also in the hall. Amanda, Simon, and Amphora stuck their listening devices in their ears and tried to hear what he was saying.

  “We’ve got to do something about that tunnel gate immediately,” he said.

  “I’ll get the construction people here,” said Professor Also.

  He already knew! What luck. The teachers must have discovered that the gate was broken when they surveyed the school right after the earthquake. Of course. What had the kids been thinking? Did they really think the detectives didn’t know what was going on right under their noses?

  “Oh, and of course I set up a camera at the entrance,” said the headmaster. “We can monitor it.”

  OMG! A hidden camera had watched their every move at the end of the tunnel. For all Amanda knew, cameras had been hidden all around the basement. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was a good thing they hadn’t lied. Thrillkill would have caught them in the act and that would have been terrible.

  The kids looked at each other. These same thoughts were apparent on each of their faces.

  “Come on,” said Ivy. “We have to figure this out.”

  No one objected, and the four of them ran into the common room and plopped down on a ratty-looking green sofa. What the décor gremlins were thinking with that one was unimaginable. It wasn’t even shabby chic. It was city dump throwaway.

  But they didn’t have time to contemplate the day’s décor. They needed a strategy. If any of the teachers had seen the kids in the tunnels they would want to know what they’d been doing there, and what would they say?

  “We have no choice,” said Simon, removing his gum and looking for a place to put it. “They already have the proof.”

  “How do we know they actually record anything?” said Amanda.

  “Good question,” said Ivy. “Maybe the security guards have a wall of monitors and just watch in real time.”

  “Maybe,” said Amphora, “but maybe not.”

  “Let’s assume they know,” said Simon, casually sticking the gum into a pot with a sick-looking plant in it. Amphora gave him a look. “And if they know, they also saw what we were doing. We have to tell the truth.”

  “Hm,” said Amanda. “I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right. There’s nothing to debate. We’re stuck. Of course if they don’t say anything we’re off the hook.”

  “Then it’s a waiting game,” said Ivy. “And you know what? I don’t care. I’m tired of trying to hide things. It’s exhausting.”

  “You’re right,” said Simon, pushing the gum deeper into the pot. “Que sera sera. Now let’s do something productive. How about looking at those snaps?”

  15

  The Trove of Secrets

  Amanda and Simon took out their phones and pulled up the pictures from the tunnels. They hadn’t bothered to read the pieces of paper from the compartments until now because to do so would have slowed them down. Everyone gathered round and watched as they examined shot after shot.

  “These don’t say anything,” said Amanda, flipping quickly. “What does this mean: ‘gutter water’? It makes no sense at all.”

  “I agree,” said Amphora, who was reading the words out to Ivy. “It’s gibberish.”

  “Maybe if we put them together,” said Simon, accidentally bashing into Amphora. “But what goes with what?”

  “We’d have to input every snippet into a program and let it try to make the associations,” said Amanda. “That’s textual analysis stuff and Professor Pickle is still in prison. Of course we wouldn’t want to ask him anyway. Then he’d know that we know and—”

  “It’s impossible,” said Amphora, elbowing Simon out of their little circle. He elbowed her back. Amanda gave them a cut-it-out look.

  “Nothing is impossible if you ask the right questions,” said Simon, forcing his way back into the huddle.

  “Oh really,” she said, jockeying for position. “Ever tried bringing a dead person back to life?”

  “Fifty p!” said Ivy. “Pay up—and stop that pushing.”

  “I’ve had enough of this,” said Amphora. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

  “Then stop making nasty remarks,” said Ivy. “And no more shoving.” Amphora glared at her, but of course Ivy couldn’t see that. Not that she didn’t know. Her ability to sense what was going on was downright spooky.

  “Getting back to the matter at hand,” said Simon, “I’m sure I could come up with a program that would do that, but the data entry would be impossible.”

  “Even if we just picked a few things and tried them?” said Amanda, still flicking.

  “We could try,” said Simon, “but the odds are against us. You saw how many compartments there were in that tunnel. There are a lot of other tunnels, which doubtless means an exponentially higher number of snippets. Whatever goes with the ones we found might take years to come up with—assuming that’s even how this whole thing works.”

  “Hang on a minute,” said Amanda. “I just had an idea.” Everyone leaned toward her. “Professor Snaffle.”

  “Ye-e-e-s,” said Amphora. “I’m not following you.” She looked expectant but puzzled.

  “Professor Snaffle,” said Amanda. “Secrets.”

  “Ri-i-ight. The secrets teacher. So what?”

  “I get it,” said Simon, grabbing for Amanda’s phone. It flew out of her hand and clattered to the f
loor. “Those pieces of paper. They’re secrets.”

  “Yes!” said Amanda, reaching for the phone. She was so excited she forgot to take Simon to task. “Exactly. And who is the authority on secrets?”

  “Professor Snaffle,” said the other three in unison.

  “But I don’t see—” said Amphora. “You don’t expect us to ask her about this, do you?”

  “No,” said Amanda, examining the screen. She buffed it with her sleeve. “However, we can speculate about what’s going on using what we know about her, the school, and the way the teachers operate.”

  “Okay,” said Amphora. “What do you think?”

  “Each of the teachers has a specialty.”

  “Right,” nodded Amphora.

  “Professor Snaffle’s specialty is secrets.” Amanda stopped to let the logic sink in. The wheels didn’t seem to be turning in Amphora’s head, but the others had obviously got the point.

  “The pieces of paper are secrets, and—”

  “Professor Snaffle must have put them there!” said Amphora.

  “Exactly,” said Amanda. “And why did she put them there?”

  “Because they’re Legatum’s secrets?” said Amphora.

  “Yes!” said Amanda. “Legatum has a trove of secrets.”

  “Oooooh,” said Ivy. “Sounds like Harry Potter. Legatum Continuatum and the Trove of Secrets.”

  “You laugh,” said Amanda, “but I don’t think that’s so farfetched.”

  “Say you’re right and Professor Snaffle is the overseer of the trove of secrets,” said Amphora. “Oooh, I like the sound of that. Anyway, say she put them there. How does that help us?”

  “Think of it this way,” said Amanda. “The school’s secrets are kept in little bits in separate compartments. Professor Snaffle puts them there and makes sure they’re safe. Fine, but how does anyone ever use them?”

  “They’re in code?” said Amphora.

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” said Amanda, “but no. Not exactly. Let’s turn it around.” Ivy and Simon were grinning. Amphora was on the edge of her seat. “How do terrorists work?”

 

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