Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy
Page 84
The first thing Amanda discovered when she returned to the school was that they had arrested Mrs. Moriarty. She wouldn’t admit anything of course, but there was enough evidence to prosecute without a confession. It was she who had killed the doctor, who himself had killed the cook because she’d been careless wheeling that sugar around in the daylight, potentially giving them away and derailing the entire operation. After the doctor had hidden the cook’s body, Mrs. Moriarty had killed him for the same reason. At least that’s what Amanda’s father pieced together later, with her help.
There was the issue of the criminals’ school to contend with. Thrillkill was adamant that its existence not be leaked, and he had to do a huge amount of bargaining with the police to keep it quiet. Fortunately Amanda’s father intervened and got the investigation and all relevant documents sealed. But those bad kids were out there and so were their parents, and something would have to be done about them. At the very least, they’d have to be put under surveillance so the detectives would know if they were starting another school to replace the one that had been destroyed.
Amanda’s parents came to visit her. Her father had spent a few nights in the hospital, after which he had been sent home with a clean bill of health and a lot of gauze. He was lucky to be alive. The criminals had kidnapped him to stop him investigating their sugar enterprise. He’d told no one, not even his wife, about the leads he had, although he didn’t know about the weapons, and he’d been trying to build a case. Moriarty had found out and grabbed him as a warning.
Of course the old Lestrade-Holmes-Moriarty history was at work too. First they’d thrown Herb in the secret room at Legatum. Then, once the criminals had moved him to London, Blixus Moriarty had threatened to kill him by secreting him at New Scotland Yard, then blowing up the place. Now that was nerve—breaking into the Met’s inner sanctum. It seemed that like his son, the elder Moriarty had a taste for the dramatic. Fortunately he hadn’t gotten the chance to indulge it.
Amanda’s rancor toward both parents had vanished. She’d seen that her mother’s books weren’t all that vapid after all. In fact they were quite helpful. Since returning to the school, she’d read the ones she’d thrown under the bed and seen them in a new light: smart, crisp, and intelligent. Watching her father at his most vulnerable had caused her to see him differently too. Instead of feeling anger toward the two of them, she could begin to see why they were so proud of Lestrade. Her father’s ancestor might have been a twit, but he was their twit. Why not do the best they could with what they’d been given?
Amanda’s parents had softened toward her as well. They were so proud of her that they forgot to yell. Thrillkill had had something to do with that, having sung her praises for actions she’d taken that seemed like no big deal to her. A lot less seemed to get by him than she’d realized. The whole time he’d been aware of her documentary, her investigation, and her relationship with Nick, whom he’d always had doubts about. Not that he knew about the Moriarty connection. Nick and his mother had fooled everyone on that count. Amanda swore that that would never happen again.
Funnily enough, Amanda’s parents weren’t at all surprised by her accomplishments. They’d always known she could do anything she wanted to and told her so. Still, she had transformed so quickly. She had been so brave facing a whole new environment and adapting so well, learning her new craft, taking the initiative to go after the criminals—and flouting the rules in the process, which her parents respected more than she knew—and besting them in the end. In fact they were so pleased with how their daughter was turning out that they gave her the choice of leaving the school if she wanted to.
This threw Amanda for a huge loop. She had never expected to feel any doubt about leaving Legatum, but now she wasn’t sure. Should she go or stay? Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Ivy, Amphora, Simon, Editta, and Nigel. If she left she’d even miss Thrillkill, although she had no idea how that was possible. Her parents told her that she could go back to L.A. and live with her Aunt Ethel and Uncle Bartholomew. How could she not jump at that?
The truth was that she’d changed. In a few short weeks she’d left behind Amanda Lester the chubby outcast and become Amanda Lester the detective. Now that she thought about it, she’d loved every minute: the lab work, the evidence handling, the history class, even the autopsies. She was a detective by blood and it was starting to show. Of course she was still a filmmaker. That would never change. But now she was a detective too. Perhaps she’d start to make mystery films. You could never tell.