Chapter 14
Holmes Productions
The afternoon light was already beginning to fade. Amanda couldn’t believe how early it got dark in England. When she’d mentioned how surprised she was at dinner one night, Editta had told her that in the summer it didn’t get dark until 10:00. Now that sounded like fun.
“A film, you say?” said Nick without missing a beat. She had stuck her neck out by suggesting that they make a film together, and now he was questioning her? Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this risk-taking business after all. He probably thought she was a complete idiot. She’d done so many stupid things already. How could he think otherwise?
“Ye-e-e-s,” said Amanda tentatively. “I was, er, thinking that we could reenact the crime and document the whole thing. Then we’ll sift through the evidence, conduct interviews, and do some experiments. When we’re done we should have figured out who set off the explosion and why.”
“You are a genius!” he said.
Whoa. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Well, I don’t know about that.” Even if he liked the idea, which she hoped he did, it wasn’t exactly earth-shattering. He was either the most enthusiastic boy in the universe or he was putting her on.
“No, you are. We can document everything that way, and when we’re done we can hold a performance. What a smashing project.” His smile was very broad, and he looked sincere.
“I’m glad you like the idea.” She still wasn’t convinced.
“We'll need a protagonist,” he said, jumping up. “I think it should be you.” He looked down at her with such a fixed gaze that she squirmed.
“Oh no, I don't think so.” Was this some English custom, being ultra-supportive? That didn’t sound right. She’d heard that English people were reserved. He certainly wasn’t. But then show business people were always different. That was probably it.
“We'll see the investigation through your eyes. We’ll watch you sift through everything, follow your reasoning. It will be fantastic.”
“I suppose I could do that.” This was not exactly what she’d meant when she’d suggested making a film. She had to admit that the idea of creating a faux detective story was a good one, though. She’d been thinking of a documentary but this was much better, if only she didn’t have to play a detective.
“Yes, perfect. And I'll be your Watson.”
Wrong thing to say. Of course he wasn't to know how she felt about Holmes and Watson. She frowned.
“Is something wrong?” Nick said, sitting next to her.
Nuts. Her face was an open book even when it wasn’t red, which she didn’t think it was now because it didn’t feel hot. She’d have to work on that.
“No, I'm fine.” She tried to smile, but she was sure he could see through her.
“You look upset. Did I say something?”
He searched her eyes and she knew she couldn’t hide anything from him no matter how hard she tried. Then he smiled, and his whole face lit up. Whatever he’d seen had intrigued him. If anyone would understand it was Nick Muffet.
“I need to tell you something,” she said. It's something I'm very sensitive about.”
“I won't tell,” he said gently.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay, good.” She took a deep breath. “You know how I'm descended from G. Lestrade.”
“Yes.”
“I hate him. I hate Sherlock Holmes. I hate Dr. Watson.” She watched for a reaction but she couldn’t read his face.
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“I was going to say that I hate Professor Moriarty too, but I’d be lying. I actually kind of admire him. He’s the only one who sees Holmes for what he really is and does something about it. Is that a terrible thing to say?”
“Why would it be terrible?”
He was still full of surprises. Everyone else would think she’d said something awful. Her parents would disown her.
“Because, everyone thinks Holmes is so wonderful, and they hate Moriarty because he’s the anti-Holmes, and also because they think he’s evil. But I think Moriarty is much more honest than Holmes. He believes in something. Holmes is just an egotistical, maladjusted drug addict. He’s a coward.”
Nick burst into laughter. “You don’t have strong opinions, do you?”
He was laughing when she was dead serious? “What’s so funny?”
“You are.”
“I don’t think I’m funny. How would you like people to know you’re descended from an idiot?”
Nick smiled. “Would it help if I said I agree with you?”
“What, you think I’m inferior because I’m descended from a moron?” She felt herself becoming defensive.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean I agree that Holmes is overrated.”
“Oh. Well, good.” She relaxed a bit but kept her guard up.
“Look, Amanda, we all have things we don’t like about ourselves or our families.” He took a rumpled packet of crackers from his coat pocket and offered her one.
“Thank you. Hey, these are good,” she said, munching. “I know, but it’s so humiliating and people won’t give it a rest. You weren’t there when that Wiffle kid was beating up on me, but trust me, he was merciless.”
“He’s a jerk. He’d better stay away from you or he’ll have me to deal with. I know it’s hard but you have to try to ignore it. They do that because they’re in pain.”
Amanda looked at him in amazement. There was no indication that any of the other kids were in pain, except Simon of course. Even Ivy, who couldn’t see, was always cheerful.
“My family bugs me sometimes,” he said. “You’ll meet them someday and see what they’re like. We all do the best we can.”
She pondered this for a moment. He was so extraordinary. He must have some family. Suddenly she was so curious she couldn’t stand it. “What are they like?”
“What are who like?” he said.
“Your family.”
“Nothing special. They don’t really practice the detective thing. They’re show business people. They send me here because they want me to have a better life than theirs.” He took out another packet of crackers and offered it to her.
She refused. “You’re kidding. But this is wonderful.”
“Why? They’re just small-time. Little parts, a bit of directing, crew gigs, some writing. Honestly, you shouldn’t get excited.”
“But I am. This is so cool. I want to meet them.”
“Really, they’re pretty ordinary.”
“But they’re in show business. How can they be ordinary? Film or stage?” She was talking faster now.
“Both. Mostly stage.”
“Royal Shakespeare?”
“No. Just regional work, but yes, some Shakespeare. They’re nice people. Enthusiastic, but they’ve never had much luck. Sometimes they get on my nerves and sometimes things are good. Nothing to write home about.” He bit into a cracker. The crumbs spilled onto his jacket and he brushed them away.
“I don’t believe you. Promise me I can meet them someday,” she said.
“All right, I promise. We’ll all go out for a curry.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I’m glad you’re excited. You look smashing that way,” he said.
“Er, thanks.” She was feeling very close to him right now but the embarrassment was returning. Which was it going to be, good feelings or bad? She felt like a yoyo. Still, she had to bring up the weird clues they’d found or the film wouldn’t work.
“Um, look, there’s something else I want to tell you about.”
He looked into her eyes and smiled. “What’s that?”
“I think I might have found something.”
“You mean a clue?” he said.
“I’m not sure. It might be nothing.”
He balled up the empty cellophane packet and stuck it in his pocket. “I’ll bet it’s not nothing.”
“Don’t be to
o sure. It’s kind of silly,” she said.
“Tell me. We’ll put it in the film.”
Amanda proceeded to tell Nick about the pink substance she’d found near the garage, the blood Simon had claimed to see, the glinting, and the shadowy figure she’d noticed when she was walking Nigel. She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he listened.
“Never doubt yourself,” he said. “These clues have to mean something.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“We gather the evidence—everything. We make no judgments. Everything goes into the mix, no matter how trivial it seems.”
“Yes, but—”
“This is perfect,” he said. “I know. Why don’t we set up a place in the film called Evidence Locker? We’ll put all these clues there. Perhaps we could even make the locker a Greek chorus.”
A Greek chorus! No one she knew had ever heard of a Greek chorus, that group of actors in old plays that commented on the action to give the audience background and perspective. But Nick had. Oh, he was wonderful.
“We’ll need a script,” she said. “Well, a plan, since we won’t know how the story will go yet. I’ll start working on that after I finish my paper on butlers.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll do a little location scouting and we can meet up after dinner.”
“Great! See you then.”
“You know, Amanda,” he said as they were leaving, “we should come up with a name for our production company. Holmes Productions?” He gave her a wink.
She took a quick step toward him and started to chase him. “I’m going to get you, Nick Muffet,” she screamed, mock attacking him as the two of them collapsed laughing.
Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy Page 37
