by R. A. Spratt
The Headmaster turned. ‘If you come with me, Your Highness, I will show you to your room.’
The princess started to follow the Headmaster into the building. She ignored the three hundred students openly staring at her. But her eye caught the steaming car wreck pressed against the undamaged statue.
‘What is this, I wonder?’ asked the princess. She had a thick Norwegian accent. ‘Is it some sort of artwork? A public sculpture of found objects, perhaps?’
The Headmaster looked at the car wreck. ‘Yes, it is a metaphor for how I feel at the end of a long term.’
Suddenly there was a loud bang from the engine. The bonnet buckled up and smoke began to pour out from the sides. There was a flash of movement as the bodyguard rushed across the driveway and slammed into Ian, knocking over a dowdy girl behind him.
‘Hey, I didn’t do anything!’ protested Ian.
‘It’s all right,’ called Friday, stepping forward to intervene. ‘It’s just a poorly maintained car with leaking flammable fluids. Nothing sinister.’
‘Sorry, my mistake,’ said the bodyguard, straightening himself up. ‘I thought I saw the boy acting suspiciously.’
‘It wouldn’t be the first time,’ said Melanie.
‘I was just standing here,’ argued Ian. ‘She’s the one who brought the dangerous automobile with the lunatic driver.’ He pointed at Friday.
The Headmaster glared at her. ‘Barnes, Pelly, wait for me outside my office.’
‘We didn’t do anything,’ protested Friday.
But the Headmaster had already turned and was leading Princess Ingrid into the main building. As soon as they disappeared inside, the assembled students started chattering excitedly amongst themselves.
‘Right, all of you,’ yelled the Vice Principal, ‘get back to class!’
The student body started to disperse, except for Ian, who sidled over to Friday.
‘Quite an entrance,’ he said.
‘I wasn’t the one driving,’ said Friday.
‘No, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?’ said Ian.
Dr Barnes was staring at the caved-in front of his car, as if he couldn’t work out how it had happened. Friday noticed he was wearing a brown cardigan that was almost identical to her own. She sighed. ‘I don’t think Dad is used to seeing the practical application of physics at such close hand.’ She raised her voice to call out to him, ‘Force equals mass times acceleration, hey, Dad?’
‘What?’ said Dr Barnes looking up. ‘Yes, I suppose so, but I don’t understand why anyone would put a statue right here.’
‘I think they expect you to drive around it, sir,’ said Ian. ‘By staying on the driveway.’
Dr Barnes looked down at his feet. The tyres of his car had cut big gashes into the lawn. ‘Yes, my car breached protocol.’ He nodded as if that explained it. ‘I suppose I’d better find my quarters.’ Dr Barnes wandered off. Having come to terms with how the accident had occurred, it did not cross his mind that he should take responsibility for the removal of the car.
‘I can see why you wanted to come to boarding school,’ said Melanie sympathetically. ‘Looking after your father is like looking after a pet. Except you can’t lock him in the backyard.’
Chapter 5
The Headmaster’s Troubles
Friday and Melanie sat outside the Headmaster’s office for a long time. Melanie used the opportunity to catch up on sleep. She’d already had a ninety-minute nap during the car ride, but Melanie never let a little thing like being well-rested stop her from slipping off to sleep again. Friday privately suspected that her roommate had not entirely recovered from being bitten by a tsetse fly the previous summer.
Friday used the opportunity to reflect on her busy morning. It wasn’t every day that her mother became a Nobel laureate, a princess enrolled in her school, and she was involved in a car accident. She noted that she was starting to feel one of the classic symptoms that followed any adrenalin rush – sleepiness. But unlike Melanie, Friday was unable to reconcile herself to the discomfort of the bench. She was just considering lying down on the linoleum floor when the Headmaster bustled into view at the end of the corridor. Friday elbowed Melanie in the ribs.
‘What?’ asked Melanie, drowsily.
‘The Headmaster’s here,’ said Friday.
‘He’ll be more interested in talking to you,’ said Melanie. ‘Wake me if he wants me.’ She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep again.
Friday stood to meet the Headmaster. ‘Inside,’ he snapped.
Friday followed him into his office, shutting the door behind her.
‘You had to stuff everything up, didn’t you?’ said the Headmaster.
‘What?’ asked Friday.
‘The princess’s bodyguard is all worked up,’ said the Headmaster. ‘He thinks your father crashing into the statue was a terrorist attack.’
‘He’s just a bad driver,’ said Friday.
‘Yes, I finally convinced Mr Rasmus of that,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I introduced him to your father and it was immediately self-evident that he wasn’t capable or coherent enough to have a political ideology. But still, couldn’t you have let me have one quiet afternoon? I get a princess from the Norwegian royal family to enrol here for six weeks, which is a huge coup for the school. It’s the best publicity we’ve ever had. And the first day is blighted by a traffic accident.’
‘No-one will know,’ said Friday. ‘There wasn’t any press around.’
‘Word will get out,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I might have banned all electronic devices from the school, but I can’t stop students from writing letters. This isn’t a prisoner-of-war camp.’
‘I think some of the parents would be happier if it were,’ said Friday. ‘Why did a Norwegian princess want to come to our school anyway? Has she done something wrong in her homeland? Has she been banished?’
‘Banished?!’ exclaimed the Headmaster. ‘I forbid you to get that rumour started. No, she wanted to come here. Our school’s polo program is the second-best in the world.’
‘Why didn’t she want to go to the school with the best polo program?’ asked Friday.
‘It’s in Argentina,’ explained the Headmaster. ‘The king wouldn’t have allowed that. You’ve seen how pretty the princess is. If she was surrounded by Argentinian polo players, she’d be sure to run off with one of them. It’s what princesses always do in romance novels.’
‘I’ll have to take your word for it,’ said Friday.
‘She’s here to compete in the Trumpley Cup, our annual match against Pontworth Manor Preparatory School,’ said the Headmaster. ‘It’s the highest standard of high school polo played in the country.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought there was much high school polo played in the country,’ said Friday. ‘It must be right up there with the competitive flushing enormous amounts of money down the toilet.’
‘Look, I’m very pleased to have your father here,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Having a scientist of his calibre on staff will look very good in the prospectus, but I expect you to keep an eye on him and keep him out of trouble. It’s probably a good thing he has smashed his car. He won’t be able to accidentally run over any students now.’
‘But he’s my father,’ said Friday. ‘He’s not my responsibility. I’m supposed to be his responsibility.’
‘Do you really wish your roles were reversed?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘No, I suppose not,’ said Friday. ‘All right, I’ll keep an eye on him.’
‘Good,’ said the Headmaster, standing up. ‘I’ve got a meeting. There’s another girl starting today. Poor thing, no-one is going to notice she’s arrived. She just got knocked over by Mr Rasmus when he was crash-tackling Ian. Still, I have to give her the standard welcome talk.’ The Headmaster glanced at his watch, or, rather, he glanced at his wrist because his watch wasn’t there.
‘Where’s my watch?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘Did you put it on
this morning?’ asked Friday.
‘Of course,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I always wear a watch. You know how much I enjoy chiding people for being tardy.’
‘Was the strap old?’ asked Friday. ‘Could it have fallen off?’
‘No, it was a new strap and a new watch,’ said the Headmaster. ‘It can’t have broken. It’s one of those fancy new computer watches that can take photos and record conversations.’
‘Then there’s only one alternative,’ said Friday.
‘What?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘Someone stole it,’ said Friday.
‘That’s just what I need!’ said the Headmaster. ‘On the same day that a royal princess arrives one of the students decides to become a thief.’
‘Or one of the teachers,’ said Friday.
‘And the princess is wearing the Haakon Stone,’ said the Headmaster. ‘It’s almost more valuable than she is. I wish I could just put her and her necklace in a vault so I’d know they were safe.’
‘Perhaps your watch was stolen because of something you recorded on it,’ said Friday. ‘An incriminating photograph or conversation.’
‘Well, I know I had it on when I was waiting for the princess to arrive because I kept checking it,’ said the Headmaster.
‘It isn’t easy to steal a watch right off someone’s wrist,’ said Friday. ‘You need to get very close and you need to distract your target.’
‘But I would have noticed,’ said the Headmaster.
‘Who have you shaken hands with?’ asked Friday.
‘Um …’ said the Headmaster, ‘the princess … her bodyguard … the other new girl … your father …’
‘Well, he wouldn’t have done it,’ said Friday.
‘I don’t see how he is a less likely suspect than a royal princess,’ said the Headmaster.
‘What about Ian Wainscott?’ asked Friday.
‘Your boyfriend?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ protested Friday.
‘It’s all right,’ said the Headmaster. ‘It’s not against school rules. You’re allowed to have a boyfriend.’
‘But I don’t,’ said Friday.
‘Well, you’re always together,’ said the Headmaster. ‘If it looks like a duck and it quacks like a duck –’
‘It’s a duck, not a boyfriend,’ interrupted Friday.
‘All right, all right,’ said the Headmaster. ‘No need to get snappy with me.’
‘Sorry,’ said Friday. ‘I just mentioned Ian because he can do sleight of hand magic. He knows how to lead the eye.’
‘Well, I didn’t shake hands with him,’ said the Headmaster. ‘Although, now that you mention it, he did grab my sleeve to catch my attention when he spotted you coming up the driveway.’
‘Typical,’ said Friday.
‘But a lot of students were standing close by,’ said the Headmaster. ‘I was distracted. Any one of them might have taken it.’
‘Let me see your wrist,’ said Friday.
‘Why?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘Because it’s the scene of the crime,’ said Friday, taking her magnifying glass out of her pocket.
The Headmaster felt uncomfortable having a student take him by the hand and inspect him so closely.
‘Tsk, tsk, tsk,’ said Friday.
‘What?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘According to this school’s anaphylaxis policy, no-one is meant to have nut products on school grounds,’ said Friday. ‘But from the brown stain on your cuff, I can see you ate peanut butter for breakfast.’ She sniffed his cuff. ‘Yes, definitely peanut butter.’
The Headmaster snatched his hand away. ‘Must you sniff everything?!’
‘Let me have another look,’ said Friday. ‘Come on, you know it’s in your best interest if I see if there are any clues.’
The Headmaster reluctantly held out his hand, again.
Friday looked at the back of his wrist then turned it over and looked at the inside. She carefully inspected every centimetre. The red compression marks where the band had been were still clearly visible, so the watch had not been gone for long. ‘You’re very lucky, Headmaster,’ said Friday.
‘Why?’ said the Headmaster. ‘How can I be lucky when I’ve just lost an expensive watch?’
‘Because you could have easily had a very nasty accident,’ said Friday. ‘Whoever stole your watch was able to do it so swiftly and unnoticed because they cut it off with something extremely sharp.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked the Headmaster.
‘Look,’ said Friday, handing her magnifying glass to him. ‘The hair on one side of your wrist has been shaved off right here.’ She pointed to a small, smooth spot on the side of the Headmaster’s wrist.
‘What?’ said the Headmaster.
‘Your watch was cut off with a razor-sharp blade,’ said Friday. ‘If the thief had misjudged even slightly, he or she might have severed your artery, causing you to rapidly lose a massive amount of blood.’
The Headmaster turned pale. ‘Who would do such a thing?’
‘Someone careless, carefree or desperate,’ said Friday. ‘Would you like me to get to the bottom of it?’
‘I’d like my watch back,’ said the Headmaster.
‘I’ll investigate,’ said Friday.
‘Before you go, Barnes,’ said the Headmaster, ‘there’s something you should know.’
‘That sounds ominous,’ said Friday.
‘You’ve got a new next-door neighbour,’ said the Headmaster.
Chapter 6
The Next-Door Neighbour
‘The Royal Princess of Norway is next door?’ whispered Melanie.
She and Friday were standing in their own dorm room.
‘That’s right,’ whispered Friday.
‘But I just bumped into another girl coming out of that room,’ said Melanie. ‘A short, dowdy girl with dark brown hair, wearing a misshapen blue cardigan.’
‘No, that’s the other new girl. They’re roommates,’ said Friday.
‘Well, I like the dowdy girl in the blue cardigan,’ said Melanie. ‘She reminded me of you, although her cardigan wasn’t quite as ugly as yours. It’s a nicer colour, for a start.’
‘The Headmaster put the princess in the room next door to ours so I can keep an eye on her,’ said Friday.
‘Hasn’t she got a bodyguard who can do that?’ asked Melanie.
‘Yes, but his room is on the boys’ floor,’ said Friday. ‘It wouldn’t be appropriate to have a great big man living in a dormitory full of girls.’
‘I can only imagine the giggling it would cause,’ agreed Melanie.
‘Do you think I would be invading her privacy if I pressed my ear to the wall and tried to hear what she’s doing in there?’ asked Friday.
‘Oh yes, definitely,’ said Melanie. ‘But we’re pre-teen girls. We’re supposed to have a cavalier disregard for the sensibilities of our peers.’
They both pressed their ears against the wall.
‘Can you hear anything?’ asked Friday.
‘No, the wall is not very forthcoming,’ said Melanie.
‘That’s the problem with attending an elite preparatory academy,’ said Friday. ‘The buildings are so well-built, the walls are proper insulated brick structures. If this were a state school with fibro walls, we’d be able to hear her breathing.’
‘If this were a state school,’ said Melanie, ‘the heir to the throne of Norway would not be living in the room next to us.’
There was a knock at the door.
‘That might be the princess,’ said Melanie. ‘Perhaps that’s why we can’t hear her through the wall – because she’s outside the door.’
Friday opened the door and she immediately guessed that this was the other new girl standing before her. She was wearing an eye-catchingly drab blue cardigan.
‘Hello,’ said the new girl as she nervously shifted her glasses higher up her nose. ‘I’m, um …’
&n
bsp; ‘The new girl?’ asked Friday.
‘Gosh, yes,’ said the new girl. ‘I heard you were good at deducing things. I didn’t realise you’d start doing it right away.’
‘This is Debbie,’ said Melanie. ‘Debbie meet Friday.’
‘I’ve never met anybody named after a day of the week before,’ confessed Debbie.
‘That’s because most parents are a great deal more sensible than mine,’ said Friday.
‘Would you like to come in and listen to the wall?’ asked Melanie.
‘All right,’ said Debbie.
The three girls pressed their ears against the wall.
‘What are we listening for?’ asked Debbie.
‘Your new roommate, the princess,’ said Melanie.
‘Oh,’ said Debbie.
‘But she’s disappointingly quiet,’ said Friday, stepping away.
‘I actually came over because I thought you might be able to help me with something, if it’s not too much trouble. I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy,’ said Debbie.
‘We’re listening to a wall,’ said Friday. ‘You can’t get any less busy than that.’
‘Unless you take a nap,’ added Melanie.
‘So what’s the problem?’ said Friday. ‘Lost property? Missing homework? Or has someone falsely accused you of a crime?’
‘Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid,’ admitted Debbie. ‘I’ve just locked myself out of my room. I’m not used to having a key to keep track of, you see.’
‘That’s easily fixed,’ said Friday, going to her desk and taking out her lock-picking kit. ‘Fortunately the school has cheap, substandard locks on all the dormitory doors. It will only take me a few minutes to pick it for you.’
‘And I’ll lend you a shoelace,’ said Melanie.
‘A shoelace?’ asked Debbie.
‘So when you find your key you can tie it around your neck.’ Melanie pulled a shoelace with a key on it out from under her jumper. ‘I have a problem with that sort of thing, too. Before Friday became my roommate I once slept in the corridor for three nights because I lost my key and didn’t want to bother anyone about it.’
