by Anne Digby
That was too much for Tish. She leapt to her feet.
'Don't you be so clever!'
'How dare you –' began Virginia.
'You're partly to blame for all this!' yelled Tish. 'You promised Robbie he could take you to the dance and he turned up in his best suit and he even bought you some flowers – he's crazy about you! He went wild when he saw you at the dance with David Driscoll. He tried to stop himself but he was just in the mood to do something wild and stupid –'
She stopped. Virginia looked stunned.
'Did – did I promise he could take me to the dance?' She ran a hand down her cheek. 'Is that why he was behaving so strangely?' Her lower lip started to tremble slightly. 'Yes, yes. I did promise him. I remember now. I'd no idea it mattered that much –'
She turned and hurried from the room, looking very upset.
Some girls out in the hall who'd been listening quickly dispersed. Margaret Exton was amongst them. She was quite enjoying this little drama over Robbie Anderson and the car.
Later that evening, when everybody was getting ready for bed, Rebecca went through to the kitchen to get a drink and she heard Virginia's voice in the hall. She was speaking very softly into the phone.
'Look, Robbie was it revenge, or something . . . was that it? I'm sorry . . . I behaved horribly . . . I'll take some of the blame with Daddy. But please own up –'
There was the distinct sound of a click at the other end.
'Robbie – listen –'
He's hung up on her! thought Rebecca. He didn't take the car and she doesn't believe him and he's furious! But what's going to happen next?
NINE
THE SIX INVESTIGATE
What happened next was that Robbie smashed the Head's window and got himself thrown out of College.
'Doctor Simpson's suspended him till the end of term!' panted Edward Murdoch. Sue's brother was almost choking for breath as he cycled into the courtyard. 'If you want to see him off he's catching the 12.30 train to London!'
It was Sunday mid-morning. The six friends were sitting on the low wall in the courtyard and they'd been endlessly discussing the question of Robbie and the car. Rebecca had told them about Virginia's phone call and it was gradually beginning to dawn on them all, even Tish, that Robbie was behaving like someone who was not guilty, but innocent.
Then Edward appeared, rather pale and staring-eyed after cycling his hardest from Garth College to Trebizon.
'You mean, your Headmaster's decided that Robbie's guilty?' asked Sue, shocked. 'Just like that?'
Tish and Rebecca were simply stunned.
'No,' said Edward.
'What happened then?'
'Robbie smashed a window in the Head's study. Just chucked a paperweight clean through it. Slade took him over there, first thing this morning. It was like a tribunal, Robbie said. Motson was there, he's the house prefect, with the detention book, showing how late he got in after the dance. Slade had the handkerchief. They were all getting at him, Doctor Simpson was trying to get him to confess and – well – he just completely lost his cool and picked up the paperweight and chucked it through the window and walked out.'
'Phew!' said Tish. She was beginning to recover from the shock. 'And he's only been suspended – not expelled?'
'The Head's told him to go home and think things over. To think very hard about whether he took the car that night or not. That even if he's innocent he's not allowed to go around smashing windows and he'll decide later whether he can be reinstated at College next term or not. In the meantime – the Head says – he's going to try and make some inquiries of his own.'
'Good for him!' exclaimed Rebecca.
'Then he's not convinced?' said Sue eagerly. 'He's not convinced that Robbie pinched the car and smashed it up?'
'He just doesn't know what to think,' said Edward.
'Of course Robbie did not take the car,' said Mara softly. 'What does he say about that handkerchief, please Edward?'
'He says he's often sat in the car,' shrugged Edward. 'Secretly, when old Slade's not been around just getting the feel of the gear lever . . . dusting the instrument panel with his handkerchief . . . holding the steering wheel . . .'
'That's it!' Tish almost shrieked the words. 'I can just see him doing it!' A look of utmost relief crossed her face. 'I'm convinced!'
'About time,' said Rebecca.
'I've got to run now!' said Edward, picking up his bike. 'I dodged away from rugby practice – I just had to come and see you – but I'd better get back fast. Try and get to the station and see Robbie! Hurry – there isn't much time – let him know you're behind him!'
Rebecca ran all the way to Parkinson, the Upper Sixth boarding house. Pippa had her own car now and she kept it at school. There it was – the big blue Renault – but would she be around to drive it! She was – and, as usual, Rebecca's favourite prefect didn't ask any awkward prying questions but just drove the six of them, all squashed together, down to the mainline station at Trebizon.
'We're in plenty of time!' exclaimed Tish. She looked all round the station. 'Robbie isn't here yet. He'll have his trunk and everything. I expect he'll come by taxi.'
She was very matter-of-fact about it, though the thought of poor Robbie with his trunk packed sent a twinge through Rebecca.
They sat around the station and soberly made plans. Pippa had gone into the town to find a Sunday newspaper and would come back for them later. They kept watching the station forecourt, expecting Robbie to arrive at any moment.
'Looks like the Action Committee's alive and kicking again,' said Elf.
'We ought to have a banner and some flags!' said Tish, a wild light in her eyes. She was joking, and yet serious. 'The Six Support You!'
'He'll be pleased we're here,' said Rebecca. 'But what are we going to say . . . ? We've got to think about that!'
'We can promise faithfully to try and do what he asked you last night!' said Sue. 'Ask questions – try and find out who really pinched the car!'
'Detective work!' agreed Tish. 'Like that missing cash box!' she added, remembering a former triumph. Then she became subdued. 'Only this is ten times worse. D'you realize this is Robbie's GCSE year? Daddy's going to turn grey.'
'We can promise Robbie, can't we?' said Margot. 'We can at least promise to try.'
But Robbie never turned up.
The 12.30 train to London came in – and went out – without him.
'Edward must have told us the wrong train,' said Sue in disgust. 'Trust him to get it wrong. It's the only explanation.'
They were sitting having Sunday lunch in the school dining hall. They were all at the same table this year, with Joss Vining head of table. They'd wanted to keep watch at the station but Pippa wouldn't hear of it. They were expected back at school for lunch. It was roast beef and Yorkshire pudding – delicious – and probably worth coming back for, Rebecca decided.
'It's not a disaster,' said Tish, who'd really been very hungry. 'I'll phone home late this evening, when Robbie's back. Tell him how we all feel – how we're going to try our best to find out things.'
'And we might as well start investigating this afternoon!' said Elf, through a mouthful of peas. 'Lessons start again tomorrow.'
With the Exonford Indoor Tournament coming up on Saturday, Rebecca badly needed her Sunday tennis practice. But she put it aside.
Between them, they spoke to every single girl in Court House – and there were thirty-six of them – to ask if they'd heard or seen anything peculiar, anything at all, some time after midnight on the night of the Hallowe'en Dance. The only exception was Virginia Slade. They didn't ask her.
They even explored every inch of the Barrington's private forecourt, where the car had been parked that weekend, in case there was the smallest clue.
'Aren't they pathetic?' sneered Margaret Exton.
Later, she said to Tish:
'He made it then? He got himself thrown out. You wondered if he would – remember?'
Ti
sh pushed past her, furiously, and went to the telephone. It was eight o'clock. Even allowing for a later train, and a long journey, Robbie should be home by now. She picked up the telephone and called the operator, feeling very keyed up, and asked to reverse the charges.
'Tish?' That was her elder sister's voice. She sounded worried.
'Helen! Of course!' Suddenly Tish remembered. Her parents were in America for two weeks. When they went on these trips her sister always came home to look after the house and feed the animals. 'Is Robbie there?'
'No.'
So he was still on his way!
'Helen, d'you know what's happened –?' began Tish.
'You bet I do. The school rang here this morning and told me to expect him. They'll be writing to Mummy and Daddy this week. What a lovely surprise for them when they get back from the States next Sunday!'
'Helen, Robbie didn't pinch that car and we're going to try and prove it. Don't be horrible to him when he gets in. Can you ask him to ring here, if it's before nine o'clock?'
'As a matter of fact I can't,' said Helen, 'because he isn't coming home until next Sunday.'
'What?' said Tish.
'He phoned me this afternoon. He said there was no point in coming home yet, till Mummy and Daddy get back, and he's shacking up with some pal of his in London for a few days.'
'Who's that?' asked Tish. 'Got their phone number?'
'No,' said Helen. 'Didn't ask for it. I haven't the faintest desire to speak to Robbie. What a menace! Going around smashing windows! It's going to be bad enough when he does get home. What an almighty row there's going to be!'
'So there's no way I can contact him?'
'Sorry, Tish. I suppose I should have asked him who these people are in London – but it was all a bit rushed. What's this you're saying about someone pinching a car? I expect he'll ring through again in the next couple of days. I'll tell him to contact you, okay?'
The six felt rather glum after that. It was such a letdown, somehow, not being able to let Robbie know how they felt.
'But we just press on regardless,' said Tish, lying in bed that night.
'We've drawn a complete blank today,' said Rebecca, sadly. It had been rather boring, asking girls the same questions over and over again and being laughed at by some for presuming to be 'detectives'. 'We'll have to think what to do next.'
'One thing we ought to do is get a good look in Margaret Exton's room,' said Tish, darkly. 'I saw her sitting in Mr Slade's car that weekend!'
'Well, Robbie made quite a habit of that. So what!' said Sue.
'It's a funny thing for a girl to do,' said Tish. 'I've been thinking about it.' She yawned. 'We might find something in her room. You never know.'
What? wondered Rebecca. A spare wheel? A set of spanners? In the darkness she moved her head on the pillow, and smiled. None of them liked Margaret Exton, but, really, this was ridiculous. Tish was going off her head!
'You can search her room!' she said. 'Blowed if I'm going to!'
'Nor me!' said Sue.
Tish searched Margaret Exton's room, which was on the first floor of the boarding house, during Monday dinner hour. She found the others just as they were walking over to the science block for biology and her face was blazing with triumph.
'She's got a car manual under her pillow!' she whispered. 'And it's for the Masters X 19 – that's Mr Slade's car!'
It seemed like incredible news – astonishing.
But when Sue went to orchestra practice, after biology, she had a long chat with Moyra Milton. Moyra didn't like Margaret Exton, but she knew her quite well. She had the room next door to her in Court and they were both in form IV Alpha – and she knew all about the car manual.
'Bad luck, Tish,' said Sue, at tea-time. 'Freddie Exton's just taken over Masters!' Margaret Exton's father was a well-known business tycoon. 'He's promised to give her a Masters X 19 for her sixteenth birthday, so naturally she's interested in it!'
Tish felt deflated.
'She won't be able to get a licence at sixteen,' she said stubbornly.
'She'll just drive it round the grounds at home. They've got an enormous place in Surrey. Oh, Tish, I think that's all there is to it.'
'She's kept pretty quiet about it, hasn't she?' mused Margot.
'You're right!' said Tish. Her mind was working hard and her interest was beginning to revive. 'You'd think she'd have been boasting about it. But she hasn't! Hey – if you were Margaret Exton and you knew you were going to get a car just like Slade's for your sixteenth birthday, wouldn't you just be dying to try it out –?'
'Possible,' agreed Rebecca. 'But only just. I mean surely her father will let her try one out at home, anytime she wants . . .'
'She couldn't wait!' exclaimed Elf. 'That was it!'
They were all getting excited now – except for Rebecca.
'We may have solved it!'
'Good old Tish!'
'But how do we prove it?'
'I've got an idea,' said Tish. 'It's half day Wednesday. Let's trace the exact route the car took that night – go to the barn where it was found – see if there's anything that could be evidence . . .'
'I've got a faint feeling,' said Rebecca, frowning, 'that I saw Margaret Exton going upstairs in her dressing gown, when I came back from the dance.'
But nobody was listening. Nobody wanted to know about that.
'Even if you did, she could have sneaked out after midnight. She doesn't even share a room with anybody. There'd be nobody to hear her leave or come back! That's why we've got to find proof some other way.'
'Okay,' said Rebecca. 'We'll go to the barn.'
She'd been planning on spending the whole of Wednesday afternoon playing tennis. Instead, the six of them set off on borrowed bicycles and headed up towards the Clifford Road. It was a long, straight, wide road that ran through farmland. For the mile approaching Bond's farm it ran downhill and Rebecca enjoyed the sensation of cycling fast. Her fair hair flew out behind her. The rushing air went up her sleeves and under her armpits. Her eyes watered a little. It turned into an exhilarating race between her and Margot and Tish, with Rebecca sprinting into the lead, Margot overtaking and Tish finally winning the day with sheer leg muscle.
'What a place for a burn-up!' panted Margot, as they drew up, near a farm gate. There was a lone farmhouse in the distance, set well back from the road. 'Just like a race track, hey?'
'The joy-rider must have had a fantastic time,' said Rebecca. 'Until they hit the tree or something!'
'That could be the very tree,' said Sue, pointing ahead as she came up beside them.
There was a solitary young tree ahead. It grew right on the edge of the road, just where it suddenly narrowed. Waiting for Mara and Elf, who were puffing along some way back, they went and examined it. Sure enough, the bark showed signs of damage.
'I can just picture it,' said Rebecca, shutting her eyes, 'belting along in the moonlight, faster and faster, brooommph! Then something coming from the Clifford direction, road narrows . . . brake . . . swerve . . . scrape into the tree!'
'And there's the barn, must be!' said Tish, pointing across the fields. 'From the gate back there a track leads straight to it!'
But they didn't find anything in the barn, except for one – rather obvious – clue.
'Here, Tish,' said Sue, straining and heaving, 'feel the weight of this hay bale a minute!'
'Well?' Tish obliged. 'They always weigh heavy!'
Rebecca at once lifted one up herself, and then tried to lift it to shoulder height. Phew! She let it drop. Of course! That was why it couldn't be Margaret Exton.
'Imagine unstacking all these bales, to get the car in!' said Sue. 'And then building a high wall of them round the car afterwards, to hide it!'
'A girl could never do it!' said Rebecca.
Tish looked crestfallen, so did the other three.
At bedtime that night, Rebecca felt pretty dejected herself. They were no nearer solving the mystery. But in the meantime
, she'd lost a lot of tennis practice this week – and it was the tournament on Saturday! The day when she had to prove she was better than Madeleine Marks.
She must get some practice in tomorrow!
'Got it!' said Tish suddenly, just as she was climbing into bed. 'Isn't it obvious? Margaret Exton must have had somebody with her! Who did she go to the dance with?'
'She didn't,' said Sue.
Sometimes Tish could be as stubborn as a mule!
Thud . . . thwack . . . forehand . . . backhand . . . drive . . . smash! Afternoon school had finished on Thursday and Rebecca was belting the ball against the wall of Norris House as hard as she could, non-stop. She'd no idea how long she'd been going – was it tea-time yet? Where was that dratted watch of hers, anyway?
Phew! She wouldn't mind a swim!
Watch! Swim!
Rebecca suddenly stopped in her tracks and caught the tennis ball.
'That's where I left it! In the beach hut!'
She threw her racket down in the courtyard, dropped the ball, and ran. It had suddenly come back to her, quite vividly. The day after the dance – that last swim in the sea, the last of the year! She'd taken her watch with her and – of course – she must have left it in the beach hut. It would still be there. Better run, it would soon be getting dark. It got dark by tea-time at this time of the year.
She got to the beach as dusk was falling. How different Trebizon Bay looked in winter! From the top of the sand dunes she could see the big, empty expanse of it. The sea looked wild and rough, grey waves and white foam, breaking on to a lonely shoreline. In the distance the beach huts stood in a forlorn little row, the gulls crying about them.
Rebecca ran down the dunes and sprinted across the sand.
Breathing fast she reached the row of beach huts. She and Tish had shared the big one at the end! She got to the door and tugged it open. The hinges made a horrible creaking sound.
It was dark inside . . .
A sinister looking figure rose from the floor.
Rebecca screamed.
He wore faded trousers, black jumper and a pair of dark glasses. His chin was stubbly and dark and unshaven. She screamed again as he grabbed her and placed his hand across her mouth, dragging her into the hut.
