Los Angeles, her hometown, wasn’t like that. In L.A. it almost never rained and the temperature rarely dropped below the mid-fifties. If anything the place was too hot and dry. That was why so many brush fires broke out each year. Fires or no, she missed her home. England was beautiful, but it was so much work to live there. In L.A. life was breezy. No snow to shovel, no icicles to dodge, no freezing temperatures that required wearing a jacket indoors. But there was also no Legatum, and in L.A. she hadn’t had friends. England was definitely better despite the weather.
The view out the windows was stunning. Amanda could see a beautiful rainbow shining against a cloud-studded blue-gray sky. She thought it was the loveliest thing she had ever seen, shimmering there in the vapor. The colors were so bright you almost had to wear sunglasses. She smiled in spite of herself and snapped a picture to savor. It was a good thing she’d captured the scene because within a couple of seconds, the rainbow had vanished.
Now that she had time to think away from Holmes, she turned her attention to the question of the hacker’s identity. Blixus Moriarty was brilliant. There was no doubt of that. Whether he could be the hacker, however, she didn’t know. When Professor Redleaf had seen whatever she had, Moriarty had been in prison. Were inmates allowed access to computers? If not, it was always possible that someone had sneaked a tablet or phone in for him to use. She was sure he’d have found a way if he’d wanted to. As far as she was concerned, he was the prime suspect.
Mavis Moriarty was a different matter. Amanda knew little about her. She’d posed as the Legatum cook’s assistant, and Amanda and her friends had discovered that she had actually cooked all the meals herself and let the cook take the credit. Everyone said that the cook was blackmailing Mavis, but no one knew why. She’d obviously learned how to cook for large groups somewhere, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a hacker as well. Nick had lied so much about himself and his parents that she didn’t really know anything about Mavis. Amanda mentally filed her in the “possible” category.
Nick himself was super smart. He was a whiz with his computer. She’d seen him root around under the hood many times. But whether his expertise exceeded what she’d seen him do she didn’t know. If he did have the knowledge necessary to hack Professor Redleaf, when and where did he practice? In his dorm room? Some vacant classroom? Or had he been holding off while at Legatum, only to return to his real work after his disappearance?
Nick certainly had the motivation. Like his father he would stop at nothing to further their criminal enterprise, but something told Amanda that he couldn’t have pulled off a stunt of this magnitude. She mentally filed him in the “unlikely” category. But wait a moment. The message she’d seen, directed to her personally, had Nick written all over it. Yes, the hacker had called her Amanda rather than Lestrade, but that was probably to hide his identity. Calling her by her ancestor’s name would be a dead giveaway, and Nick was way more clever than that. No, he wasn’t an unlikely suspect at all. Too bad. She desperately wished it weren’t him but she knew better. She changed his designation to “prime suspect.” It was okay to have two prime suspects, wasn’t it?
Of course Blixus Moriarty knew all kinds of criminals who could have helped him. Aside from the few she’d seen at the sugar factory, she had no idea who these people were or what they could do. She and Holmes would have to find out. Amanda and Holmes again. Well, Thrillkill had assigned her all the tasks on the list, and Professor Redleaf’s computer was one of them, so yes, this was her project as well as his. Fortunately her friends would be back on campus soon, and they would be better suited to work on the question than she was, plus less likely to upset Holmes.
Her friends! She’d better get in touch with them at once, before they became involved in something they couldn’t get out of. What had each of them said they were going to do over the summer? Amphora Kapoor, one of her two roommates, had declared that she was going to spend all of June, July, and August designing and making clothes. Surely she could leave that. Simon had planned to work on his skateboard designs and his Earth-tilting project. Amanda had to laugh. Simon actually thought he might be able to reverse global warming via some scheme to alter the tilt of the earth. Ivy Halpin, Amanda’s other roommate, who was blind, had mentioned that she was going to work on her sensory observation seminars for Professor Sidebotham and also write some music. She could put those things off for a while. And Clive Ng, a geology enthusiast and recent addition to their little group, had informed them that he was going rock hunting all summer, again something that could wait. Good. They were all available.
She decided to start with Ivy. Ivy was her best friend, a joy to be around, and the caretaker of a gorgeous golden retriever who was the best dog on the planet. Nigel was technically a guide dog, but he was so much more. He was sweet, protective, and wicked smart. Everyone loved him, even Amphora, who had balked when she’d learned she would be sharing a dorm room with him. Ivy and Nigel had left Legatum only a couple of days before, but already Amanda couldn’t wait to see them again.
She pressed Ivy’s icon. The phone rang and rang and finally went to voice mail. Behind her outgoing message, Ivy had recorded one of her original compositions. The girl had talent coming out of her fingertips. If she weren’t going to be a detective, she could easily be a successful musician. Amanda left a message and went on to Amphora.
Amphora was a good friend, but where Ivy was easygoing and fun to be around, Amphora was prickly and a lot of work. Not that she couldn’t be good company, and she was smart, creative, and talented, but unfortunately she was rather used to getting her own way and had definite ideas about what that way should be. She was also a complainer, which didn’t endear her to the other students, especially Simon, who often found it difficult to be in the same room with her. And she was afraid of everything: germs, murderers, even the beautiful living crystals she’d discovered the previous term, which she’d erroneously thought were poisonous.
Amanda called Amphora. After two rings, her friend picked up.
“Amanda!” said Amphora breathlessly. Either she was unbelievably happy to hear from Amanda or she’d been in the middle of who knew what. “Miss me already?”
“I do!” exclaimed Amanda. “But someone else misses you more.”
“You mean Scapulus?” said Amphora. “I knew it. It was just a matter of time.” Obviously she didn’t realize that Holmes and Amanda were an item. If she did, she never would have said something so hurtful.
“No, not Scapulus,” said Amanda.
“Harry Sheriff then?” said Amphora.
“Harry Sheriff? Since when do you know him?”
“I know all the cute guys,” said Amphora. Right. Of course. Amphora was boy crazy. She would know them all.
“Actually, it’s someone even cuter,” said Amanda. She knew Amphora wouldn’t like the joke but it was too tempting an opportunity to pass up.
“Go on then,” said Amphora. “Which of my admirers is it?”
“Thrillkill,” said Amanda.
“What? No, who is it really?”
“I’m serious,” said Amanda. “It really is Thrillkill. He wants you to come back to campus. You and Ivy and Simon and Clive.”
“Why? Did we do something wrong? Oh no! He isn’t going to expel us, is he? Do you really think he minds that we went after the Moriartys? We didn’t know Editta was going to run off with them like that. She would have found another way to do it anyway, you know.” Typical Amphora. Always leaping to the worst possible conclusion.
“No,” said Amanda. “It isn’t that. And yes, I do think Editta would have run off with them sooner or later.” If she’d been able to find them, of course—never an easy prospect.
“Well, what does he want then?” said Amphora impatiently. She was getting so worked up that Amanda wasn’t sure how she’d take the real reason for her call.
“He wants us to work on some critical tasks. Really important stuff, like the Bible and Wink Wiffle’s murder.”
“He does? That’s brilliant!” Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. Amphora wasn’t going to make a scene. “Oh, wait a minute. I don’t think my parents are going to like this. They think I need a rest.”
Amanda laughed. “Tell them you’ll spend lots of time lying by the pool.”
“Pool? What pool? Oh, I get it. You’re pulling my leg. Very funny.”
“Just tell them how important this stuff is. Don’t scare them, though, or they might come up here and yell at Thrillkill like David and Editta’s mothers did this morning.”
Amphora gasped. “You’re kidding me. They actually came to the school and yelled at Thrillkill?”
“Yes, and it was terrible. I was in his office talking to him and I heard everything. Celerie Wiffle has even filed a wrongful death lawsuit against the school because Wink’s body was found here. So he needs us—quite badly. Please come, Amphora.” By now she wasn’t sure she wanted her to, but it was too late to backpedal.
“Goodness, I have to, don’t I? I’ll tell my parents something or other. I’ll be on the train as soon as I can make it. Oh, is Simon coming?”
Amanda wasn’t looking forward to Simon and Amphora’s bickering. She hoped the fact that they’d won Professor Tumble’s bruises and scars design challenge together might have improved their relationship.
“Thrillkill wants him,” she said. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to make it, though. I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“I hope he can’t. He’s probably too busy creating Frankenstein’s monster.” So much for an improved relationship. Amanda wondered if those two would ever get along. Maybe when they were fifty. “Is Ivy coming too?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know.”
“I can’t wait. I’ll text you.”
“Fab! Bye.”
Next Amanda tried Simon. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hullo, Amanda,” he said. “What’s shakin’?”
Amanda went through her spiel again and Simon said that he too would be on the next train, although he’d be coming from Cambridge rather than London like Amphora. His parents would support him completely. He’d see her in a few hours.
When Clive answered, he was out looking for rocks near his home in Cornwall. He said it would take him a while to get back, but he’d be there as soon as possible. Excellent. Now she just had to wait for Ivy to phone. Then she remembered Gordon. She still had his contact details from the time when she and Nick played a trick on his buddy David. She pressed his icon.
“Hullo,” he said after the third ring.
“Gordon, it’s Amanda Lester,” she said. “From school.”
“What do you want?”
Of course he was hostile. He and David had practically made a career out of hating Amanda and her friends. Once they’d met, it hadn’t taken long for all-out war to break out between the two groups, but lately things had changed. Gordon had started to rebel against David’s bossiness and had been lurking around Amanda’s little circle. How he felt now was uncertain, although from his tone it seemed that he still didn’t like her.
“Thrillkill asked me to call you.”
“Thrillkill? Why? He’s not blaming me for what David did, is he?”
“No, Gordon, he isn’t. He needs your help.”
Gordon’s voice changed. He seemed to have exhaled. “Thrillkill needs my help? Really?”
“Yes. He wants you to come back to Legatum for the summer and help a group of us attack some critical problems.”
“Which problems? I don’t know how to fix walls.” He sounded defensive.
“Not the earthquake stuff. Things having to do with Mr. Wiffle’s murder and Editta and the Moriartys.”
“Really, wow.” She could hear his excitement leap out of the phone. “This is bitchen! Hey, you’re not making this up, are you?”
“If you don’t believe me, call Thrillkill. He’ll tell you.”
“I will, right now.” He hung up. What manners.
While she was waiting to hear back from Ivy, Amanda decided to go over the other items on the list. The highest priorities were Editta, Philip, and Gavin, all of whom were probably with the Moriartys. Therefore, the best way to proceed was to locate Blixus and his family.
She’d faced this problem before. The last time, Holmes had been able to hack Philip’s phone and deduce that the Moriartys had returned to Lake Windermere. However, the phones had no doubt been ditched and were now untraceable.
Was it possible, though, that Editta still had her phone? Her friends had been trying to contact her ever since she’d run away, but she hadn’t answered. That was probably by choice. When Editta had failed to turn up for school last term, they’d tried everything they could think of—to no avail—even patterns of three messages in quick succession, which Editta would consider lucky. When she’d finally showed up on the third day of classes, she’d apologized but had never mentioned whether she’d received their messages. Everyone had assumed she’d ignored them.
If the same was true now, Editta would be reading her messages but not responding to them. Maybe there was a way to incentivize her, unless, of course, Blixus had taken her phone away. He might have trashed it for security purposes, but it was worth a try. The only question was, what should they say?
They certainly didn’t want to say something like “Your parents are dead,” which of course wasn’t true. That would get her attention, but it might scare her so much that who knew what she might do. Anyway, if her parents were sending her messages she’d know they were alive. Amanda figured they might try that strategy as a last resort, but there was no point blowing everything now. She had to come up with something safer and more reliable.
What if they were to tell Editta she’d won a lot of money? No, that was ridiculous. How about that she was getting a free pass to attend Legatum for the next five years? No, what did she care about that anymore? Wait—what about an omen or curse? Editta was as superstitious as her mother. That could work. Still, it would be better to try to hack her location first and not involve her directly. That way there would be nothing for her to tell Nick or Blixus—assuming she was still with them.
The problem with that idea was that Amanda would have to get Holmes to do it, and she didn’t want to talk to him any more than necessary. Maybe Simon could do it. That would be better. She’d wait for him. She made a note: the Editta task was now in progress.
As for finding Blixus, there were other options. They might be able to locate him through his associates. Weren’t some of Blixus’s henchmen from the sugar factory still in prison? She was sure they were. She could talk to them and see if they’d give up the Moriartys’ whereabouts. It wouldn’t be easy, but it could probably be done. Her dad had wormed information out of prisoners hundreds of times. All she’d need to do is come up with a good reason for them to talk. Hm. What would that be?
Amanda certainly couldn’t make any promises regarding parole or conditions of their incarceration. For that she’d need the help of someone like her dad. It was too bad he’d quit being an attorney. He could undoubtedly come up with some carrot that might get the thugs to talk—better accommodations, more conjugal visits, nicer food. He might know someone who could do that for her, though. It would certainly be a feather in any prosecutor’s cap if they were to locate the Moriartys, who after all were fugitives from the law. Yes, that was it. She’d phone her dad and see what he could do, except she’d left a message for him not forty minutes before and he hadn’t answered. Well, she’d try again. It couldn’t hurt.
After leaving yet another voice mail, she thought maybe her mother might be able to help. Lila Lester was a successful mystery novelist who knew everyone in the law enforcement business. She and Herb had been throwing dinner parties for his associates at the Crown Prosecution Service. Lila probably knew all of them intimately by now, not to mention their families, friends, schoolmates, and nannies. But her mother was even more difficult a personality than Amphora, and Aman
da didn’t relish the idea of opening that can of worms.
There might be another way though. Amanda had recently become friends with her dad’s Liverpool relatives, Despina and Hillary Lester. They were a little overbearing, but they were first-rate detectives and hardier than they appeared. Despina was a poster child for obesity, and Herb was a bit of a nebbish, but they’d both fought the Moriartys alongside Amanda and her friends, and they’d more than held their own. Sure, Despina could be a bit much, but her heart was in the right place, and Hill had major connections at a Liverpool magistrates’ court. They would definitely know someone who could help, and she’d rather talk to them than her mother.
Amanda pressed Despina’s icon. As usual, her cousin picked up halfway through the first ring.
“Amanda, darling!” cried Despina. “I was just thinking about you. I want to tell you about your cousin Jeffrey.”
As much as Amanda appreciated Despina’s enthusiasm, she had no desire to meet her son, Jeffrey, a newly minted Scotland Yard detective inspector. From everything she’d heard he was a typical Lestrade. Actually, he really was a Lestrade, being the only one in the Lester family to use the original surname. That made him the second Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, a designation he thought gave him cachet. Amanda wasn’t sure the world was ready for another one. G. Lestrade had been quite enough. Still, she thought she’d better listen.
“How is he, Despina?” she said, attempting patience.
“Fabulous!” said Despina. “He’s been spending all his time trying to find that awful Blixus Moriarty. He’s been looking all over London.”
“You mean Blixus and Mavis are there?” said Amanda. This could be a valuable lead.
“Actually, he doesn’t know that for sure,” said Despina. “But it’s the logical place, isn’t it? It’s much easier to remain anonymous when you’re in a big city.”
Amanda Lester and the Orange Crystal Crisis Page 42
