Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis

by Paula Berinstein

  What they had come up with so far was all circumstantial. There was no murder weapon, no physical evidence pointing to the perpetrator, and no concrete motive. All they had was a bunch of stymied detectives and one devastated thirteen-year-old boy.

  Then Thrillkill called the group to his office. “I know what happened,” he said. “The murder weapon.”

  “What was it?” said Professor Hoxby. “I’m stumped.”

  “Icicle,” said Thrillkill. There was a rush of breath as the kids gasped. The teachers, on the other hand, nodded their heads.

  “It was January,” said Professor Hoxby. “Icicles.”

  “Yes,” said Thrillkill. “And no evidence to find. It was brilliant. Just the kind of thing Moriarty would do, although of course, it couldn’t have been him personally.”

  “No,” said Professor Stegelmeyer. “It was obviously Mavis.” Amanda was glad he hadn’t said Nick.

  “Because of that business at Uamh Nan Claigg-Ionn, The Cave of Skulls,” said Thrillkill. “You know, that’s the deepest cave in Scotland.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Amanda, “but what incident are you referring to?”

  “It was a conflict Wink Wiffle and I had with Blixus Moriarty,” said Thrillkill. “At the cave. Blixus has had it in for us for a long time, not only because of that, of course, but that was a bit of a watershed.” A frozen watershed, it seemed. Whatever had happened, it explained Thrillkill’s obsession with icicles and his habit of carrying a hair dryer so he could melt them. “I blame myself for this, though. The incident was my fault. If I’d handled it differently, Wink would still be alive.”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Professor,” said Amanda. “Moriarty is evil. He enjoys making people unhappy.”

  “I appreciate your support, Miss Lester,” said Thrillkill, “but in time you will see that there’s a lot more to him than that.”

  “So what probably happened,” said Professor Stegelmeyer, “is that Mavis knew the orientation was coming up and she was able to check our files and see that David Wiffle was entering the school. That meant that Wink would be coming to campus and she’d have her opportunity to kill him. The date of the orientation was known. She’d have had plenty of time to plan.”

  “But could she do all that alone?” said Simon. “I can’t believe she could lift the body and wall it up like that.”

  “I suspect she had help from the doctor and the cook,” said Thrillkill. “We were all gone over the Christmas holiday. They would have had a chance to prepare the compartment then.”

  “Yes,” said Professor Also. “She probably anticipated Wiffle’s movements based on the orientation schedule. He’d take David to his dorm room, then go to the dining room and get a cup of tea. As he was leaving the chapel after the orientation, she’d have lured him to the back of campus. Her accomplices would have been waiting and they could have killed him there. They might even have got him to go into the gardening outbuilding so as to avoid being seen.”

  “But if I may ask,” said Amanda, “how do you kill someone with an icicle?”

  “It would take some planning,” said Professor Hoxby. “The best way to do it would be to immobilize him first. Maybe cosh him on the head with something—probably a large icicle so there would be no trace of the weapon. Then take a sharp one and stab him. It might take a few tries. They may have prepared the icicles ahead of time and stashed them in the outbuilding. With the temperature as cold as it was, they wouldn’t melt. Then they’d have to hide the body, but with all the activity that day, it would be easy to do that relatively unnoticed. In fact they may have left him in the building and come back later. I suspect they walled him up that night. They selected an obscure place so no one would hear or smell anything.”

  “But we did,” said Amanda. “That first day. Ivy and I heard something in the bathroom outside the chapel. We always thought it was the cook messing around with the sugar, but it could have been Mavis with the body.”

  “That is possible,” said Professor Hoxby. “We have no proof of any of this, of course, partly because the body was so badly damaged that I couldn’t find the icicle wounds.”

  “It sounds like a plausible scenario,” said Thrillkill. “Obviously there are others. But it’s a useful working hypothesis. And it makes it all the more critical to find out what that ring was doing in Mavis’s room.”

  31

  Scapulus Holmes, Dreamboat

  That evening Amanda got a call from her mother. Her father was not doing well at all, and she thought maybe speaking to his daughter would cheer him up and boost his immune system. But when she tried to hand the phone to her husband, Lila couldn’t get him to talk. He claimed he was meditating and couldn’t be interrupted.

  Amanda didn’t take offense at his rejection. Rather, she was worried about him. He had not only failed to recover from his kidnapping, but he was acting like a whole different person. The idea of her father meditating was ludicrous. He wasn’t an emotional person. Neither of her parents was. She’d probably never know what horrors he had endured and didn’t want to. She just hoped that given time he’d work through the trauma and become himself again.

  What was upsetting her so much that she couldn’t stop thinking about it was Holmes. She was furious with him for refusing to help with the virus. Yes, the hacking problem was important, but if the Moriartys turned the crystals into weapons, a lot of people could lose their lives. She didn’t understand how he could fail to see that. She hadn’t gotten anywhere by appealing to his sense of right and wrong, so now she would have to play dirty. Seeing how much he supposedly liked her, she would try to be his girlfriend as Simon had suggested. She wouldn’t tell Simon, though, because he’d act all judgmental. She’d keep the whole thing to herself as long as she could, not even telling Ivy.

  She found Holmes in the Cyberforensics classroom as usual. He was staring at his screen with such a look of puzzlement that she almost backed out the door for fear of interrupting something important, but he must have seen her because he looked up, breaking the spell.

  “How’s it going?” she said.

  “Not good,” he said, picking up a pencil and fiddling with it. “I can’t find anything. I’m no further along than when I started.”

  “I think you’re working too hard,” she said.

  “There is no such thing as too hard when the stakes are so high,” said Holmes.

  “Sometimes it helps to take a break,” said Amanda. “How about a cup of tea?”

  Holmes dropped the pencil. It clattered to the floor, bounced a couple of times, and lay still near his foot. He froze for a second, then reached down to retrieve it. Amanda could hear it rattling around as he kept trying and failing to pick it up. Finally he gave up and sat back in his chair.

  “A cup of tea?” he said. “You and me? Now?”

  “Sure,” she said in her best flirting voice. Not that she thought she had one, but it was probably time to see if she did. “I’m buying.”

  He eyed her suspiciously, then seemingly satisfied that she wasn’t putting him on, stood up and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

  As they made their way to the dining room, Amanda said, “How are you?”

  Holmes gave her a sidelong glance and said, “Uh, okay, I guess. How are you?”

  She couldn’t tell him about identifying the body, so she raised a subject she could talk about. “Super,” she said. “The film is almost done and I’m so glad we did it. You did a way cool job, Scapulus.”

  “But I thought—” he said.

  “What?” she said. “That I thought you didn’t know anything about making films? She put on her most cheerful face. “You didn’t, but you obviously do now. You’re a really quick study.” Then, trying not to choke, she said, “It must be those Holmes genes. Uh, I mean it isn’t only your genes.” Dodo! “You’re so smart and so good at everything. I mean I know how hard you work, and you have such good ideas . . .” She thought she’d better quit before she said anything e
ven more stupid, which would have been difficult to do.

  “Uh, thanks,” said Holmes hesitantly. “I’m glad I could be useful.”

  “Not just useful.” Should she bat her eyelashes at him? Nah. That was a really dumb idea. “Critical. I couldn’t make a film like that by myself.”

  “Sure, I contributed a lot of the technical content—”

  “Not only that. Your ideas about scene blocking and pacing were amazing. I admit that I had my doubts at first, but I’m so glad we did this together.”

  “Amanda, are you—”

  But they had arrived at the dining room and Amanda interrupted with, “Ooooh, they have lemon today. I didn’t think you guys used lemon in your tea.”

  “We don’t normally, but—”

  She shoved a cup of tea in his face. “Try it. It’s good.”

  “Uh, thanks,” he said, trying not to spill the offering.

  “The other thing I wanted to say was that you’re doing such a fantastic job teaching the cyberforensics class. I’m understanding the concepts easily. That’s difficult stuff. I was struggling until you explained everything.”

  “You like it?”

  “Love it.” She stared into his eyes. For a moment he gazed back, then broke off eye contact and gazed off into a corner. She kept looking at him, and in a moment he checked back. When he saw that she was still giving him that look, he got busy with his tea and burned his mouth.

  “Good,” he said, dabbing at his lip. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure I was explaining things that well. When you know something it’s hard to remember what it’s like not to know it.”

  “Yes,” she said dreamily.

  “I’ve been meaning to compliment you as well,” he said, eyeing her. “You did such great work discovering that those crystals are made from the pink sugar, and also going to London to try to find Moriarty. I don’t think I could have done either of those things.” As much as Amanda appreciated Simon, she did not want to ruin the mood by pointing out that he had been as responsible for those accomplishments as she had, maybe more. “You’re a great detective, Amanda.”

  Amanda was so flattered and taken aback that she said something so idiotic she couldn’t believe it. “Your ancestor was the greatest detective of all.” Say what? Her archenemy? Well, not really her archenemy. Moriarty was her archenemy. But Holmes was her nemesis. Was that the same as an archenemy? Oh, who cared. Now she was in for it. She’d never be able to back out of this one.

  “Thanks,” he said. “He had his good points and his bad points, like all of us.” He smiled shyly.

  Amanda felt something weird ripple through her body. It was almost as if her heart had skipped a beat. Surely it wasn’t that smile. No, of course not, but now that they were chatting without trying to one-up each other, she found herself warming to Holmes. He was gracious when he wasn’t trying to be a bad boy. He was also scary smart, and he could be incredibly nice. Okay, she’d admit it—what could it hurt? He was nice-looking too. Actually, more than that. Not that she’d ever confide that to anyone, even Ivy.

  Suddenly they couldn’t stop talking. He asked her about Los Angeles and listened attentively as she described the exquisite Santa Monica Mountains, the laid-back atmosphere, and the creativity that wafted through the air. She asked him about codes, and he explained all about the differences between those and ciphers and cited famous examples throughout history. And then they were silent, looking at each other as if for the first time.

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda blurted out.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said.

  “You know what I’m talking about?”

  “That first day.”

  “I didn’t know what I was saying.”

  “It’s all right. I knew.”

  “You were so nice about it.”

  “It’s nothing. Let’s forget it.”

  She searched his eyes. He seemed to be telling the truth. How could he be so generous? “Thank you,” she said.

  They stayed up late talking, and by the time they went to bed, which was after curfew, Amanda felt like a different person. She found that she really liked him—something she never thought possible, although for some stupid reason she felt that she was betraying Nick, which was beyond ridiculous. But she very much enjoyed the new feelings she was experiencing and was so excited that it took her hours to fall asleep.

  The next morning Simon took Amanda aside in the hall and said, “David never found the Bible.”

  “I was coming to that conclusion,” said Amanda, stopping under a painting of a nymph. “Now what?”

  “I didn’t want to bother him, all things considered,” said Simon, “but I did overhear him talking to Gordon. He thinks his roommates might have taken it.”

  “Puppybreath and Niven?” said Amanda. “You think they took it as a joke? They don’t get along with him very well, do they?” She pressed a finger to the picture frame. “Whoops. If they dust that for prints—” She was getting carried away. With the teachers constantly turning ordinary objects into evidence she was becoming hyper-aware of everything she touched.

  “No, they don’t,” he said. “To tell you the truth, they’re not reliable. I’ve heard them talking in the locker room, and I wouldn’t put anything past those two. And considering that we saw them in London—”

  “That’s right,” said Amanda. “I forgot.”

  “I have a theory,” said Simon, moving to the garden bench the gremlins had placed parallel to the wall.

  “Uh oh,” said Amanda. “Do I want to hear this?”

  “Not really. I think you know what I’m going to say.” He crossed his left leg. The bench was too low and he had to bend the other one a lot.

  “That they took the book and are planning to give it to Blixus,” she said, placing a foot on the bench and stretching.

  “Sell it to Blixus,” said Simon.

  “Of course,” said Amanda. “Ow. Charley horse. It’s worth a fortune to him.” She removed the foot and held it while hopping on the other. She lost her balance and crashed to the floor. “Ow!”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so, but my butt hurts.”

  “There’s another possibility that’s too awful to think of,” said Simon.

  “Oh no,” said Amanda from the ground. “What?”

  “They might be offering it to Blixus as an incentive to take them on,” said Simon matter-of-factly.

  “No. You can’t really think—”

  “I don’t necessarily,” said Simon. “It’s just a thought. I’m not saying they’re moles or anything. But maybe they see him as some kind of hero. It does happen.”

  “I know it happens,” said Amanda. “Please don’t remind me, Simon.”

  “Not the same thing,” he said. He reached out a hand and pulled her up. She rubbed her butt and sat down on the bench.

  “I know, but—look, we need to figure this out ASAP. We need to talk to David, for one thing. What kind of mood is he in?”

  “Panicked,” said Simon. “He’s absolutely frantic. I think he’s blaming himself. Plus he’s really upset about his dad.”

  “Of course,” said Amanda. “It’s terrible having to eavesdrop on someone who’s in that kind of state.”

  “He’s not going to talk to us,” said Simon.

  “He might,” she said. “People do weird things when they’re stressed.” She leaned forward and rubbed her butt some more.

  “Not that weird.”

  “Does it hurt to ask?”

  “He doesn’t hate me as much as you,” said Simon. “I can try.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said. “But yeah, you’re probably right. What have we got to lose?”

  “You look tired. Late night?”

  “Shut up,” said Amanda. “It’s none of your business.”

  He grinned. She was sure he knew exactly why she’d been up late and didn’t like it one bit. “Okay, I’ll go find David. I’ll text you if I find out anything.
”

  As soon as Simon had left, Amanda texted Holmes. She probably should have waited for him to make a move but she was too excited. “Sleep okay?” she said. That was pretty familiar but it seemed right under the circumstances.

  She received a text back immediately. “Not a wink. You?”

  She grinned. She didn’t care if she never slept again. She was in love with Scapulus Holmes.

  A few minutes later she heard from Simon again. “Common room,” his text said. When she arrived she found him pacing through the straw the gremlins had strewn on the floor. For some reason they’d got it in their heads to make the place look like a barn. They’d even found the time to build a loft. Amanda would have liked to curl up in it but she had way too much to do.

  “Not good,” said Simon.

  “Would he talk to you?” she said.

  “Nuh uh. I overheard him talking to Gordon again. Good little devices, these listening things.”

  “I feel guilty doing that,” she said, drawing with the hay.

  “Me too,” he said, “but sometimes eavesdropping is necessary.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Get this,” he said. “David found research on Blixus in his roommates’ browser histories.”

  “How could he get into their computers?” she said, picking up a piece of straw and breaking it in two.

  “They left their passwords lying around,” said Simon. “Typical. They’re pretty sloppy.” That they were. Amanda thought of that dusty top shelf in Nick’s closet. “They were looking at articles about the prison escapes, for one thing.”

  “That’s not such a big deal,” said Amanda, shredding another bit of straw. Simon picked up a particularly long piece and tore it lengthwise. “Everyone here is concerned.”

  “Yeah, but what were they doing in London? You don’t think they were trying to catch him, do you?”

  “They might have been,” said Amanda. “Maybe they want to be heroes.”

  “Why would they take the Bible then?”

  “Good point,” she said. “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “Especially since I heard David say that the two of them have acted greedy and cut corners before. Even so, he blames himself.” He grabbed a handful of straw and threw it.