8 Top Marks for Murder

by Robin Stevens

  At this, Lavinia made a grumbling sound, and Kitty said, ‘She’s getting to it, aren’t you, Beanpole?’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry,’ said Beanie. ‘Anyway, you know how sometimes when you’re staring at nothing much your eyes sort of focus without you noticing? I did that, with that ridge across from House. I suddenly realized that I was watching two people, a lady and a man.’

  ‘What did they look like?’ I asked.

  ‘Ordinary-ish,’ said Beanie. ‘It’s too far away to see details, but they were wearing summer coats – you know, just like any grown-up.’

  Daisy, who had been sitting on her hands in an effort to remain calm, leaped to her feet. ‘Detective Martineau!’ she cried. ‘Have I taught you nothing? This is absolutely diabolical observation. Were they tall? Short? Fair or dark? Fat or thin?’

  ‘They had hats on!’ said Beanie, shrinking into herself. ‘And— Oh, I don’t know. The man was a bit taller than the woman, I think. I didn’t really think anything about them – they just looked like parents, like grown-ups. You know. I thought they were a couple, from the way they were standing talking together. Their heads were sort of bent together. But then they began to argue.

  ‘I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were waving their arms about, so I could tell it was bad. And then the man pulled the lady to him, and he put his hands around her neck and he squeezed. The lady was shoving at his shoulders, but it didn’t work, and she suddenly went all limp and fell down so I couldn’t see her any more, and he let go of her, and that’s when I turned round and said … what I said, and when I turned back he was gone! That poor lady!’

  Beanie gave a sobbing gulp, and Kitty put her arms round her.

  ‘It’s all right, Beans,’ she said. ‘You’re safe, and he shan’t hurt you.’

  ‘But what if he saw me!’ cried Beanie.

  ‘I shouldn’t think he did,’ said Daisy. ‘And if he did, what would he have seen from that distance? A girl with brown hair in a Deepdean uniform. That could be anyone!’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t see you, Beanie,’ I said, to try to calm the situation. ‘But—’

  ‘But,’ Daisy jumped in, ‘I must say that your story seems credible enough to investigate. And investigate we must. Detective Martineau, it is entirely possible that you have been witness to a murder!’

  7

  At that very moment the bell for school rang, shrill and metallic. Doors banged open all around us and footsteps began to pound down the stairs. We were out of time.

  ‘Oh no!’ said Beanie. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Never mind bells,’ said Daisy. ‘Never mind school! A crime has been committed, and the most pressing thing is this: we must get up to that ridge. We must observe the scene as soon as we can!’

  ‘All right, but when do you suggest we do that?’ asked Kitty sceptically. ‘We don’t have Games today, and tonight’s the beginning of the Anniversary. And none of that takes place in the woods! Shouldn’t we call the police?’

  ‘Stop thinking about timetables!’ said Daisy, wrinkling her nose. ‘And no, this is not time for the police. We need to make sure that Beanie saw what she says she did before we tell anyone else. We must get up to that hill despite lessons – and I believe I have the answer.’

  ‘Daisy!’ I said, catching her meaning. ‘No, not—’

  ‘Yes, we are going to miss lunch today,’ said Daisy firmly. ‘Ignore Hazel, she is not thinking like a detective any more than Kitty is. We must find a way of escaping House to get to the woods. We can ask the third— Oh, bother those turncoats! Never mind. Oh! I know! Watson, bring my bag – I must run down to Matron’s office. I’ll catch up with you at the House door!’

  She spun on her heel and bolted out of the room, her golden hair flaring out behind her.

  ‘What d’you think she’s going to do?’ asked Kitty.

  ‘Something stupid,’ said Lavinia with a shrug. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  I shouldered Daisy’s bag as well as my own, staggering rather under the weight of them as I followed the other three out of the dorm. As I went, I looked back once more, out of the window at the empty ridge.

  I felt … uncertain, somehow. I could see how frightened Beanie was. She believed what she had told us. Could it really be true, though? Daisy seemed to think so. She was utterly ready to detect … but, after a month of being miserable, Daisy needed something like this.

  This term, at Deepdean, everyone was in the middle of their own stories, and Daisy and I were nothing more than bit parts. I had learned to fit in before, so adjusting was not too hard for me. But nothing in Daisy’s life so far had prepared her to be ordinary, to find herself in the shadow of other girls. Now that Beanie believed she had seen a murder, though, Daisy could be a detective again. She could be daring and important and extraordinary. In an odd sort of way, what was dangerous to anyone else in the world brought comfort, and even a strange kind of safety, to Daisy Wells.

  Would Beanie be proven right when we went up to the ridge?

  1

  I dreamed through Science (luckily, Amina was telling the whole form about all the kings she had met, and that made Miss Runcible too giddy to teach us), and at last it was bunbreak. We queued for biscuits first – gingernuts make any mystery better – but because I had been slow putting my books into my bag, Daisy and I were rather behind the rest of the Detective Society in the queue.

  Daisy was sighing and wriggling, darting pointed glances back at me and forward to the biscuit table.

  ‘You can go on!’ I said at last.

  ‘I can’t,’ said Daisy. ‘I’ve lost pushing-in privileges. And, well, if I pushed in, what about you?’

  I hooked my arm through hers and squeezed gladly.

  ‘What I mean is,’ said Daisy in my ear, ‘that as soon as we get our biscuits, we’ll have to go and meet the others by the pond. They’re there already – look. And I wanted to have a word with just you first.’

  I looked about us. There was a crowd of lordly fifth formers in front of us, and some first-form shrimps just behind. We appeared to be safe.

  ‘What did you want to say?’ I asked, cautiously quiet all the same.

  ‘It’s about what Beanie saw,’ said Daisy, and I could tell that she was being careful too, in a Daisyish way. ‘Something she said, about what they looked like – it’s been stuck in my head all morning.’

  ‘Ordinary-ish,’ I said, grinning a little as I remembered.

  ‘Not that!’ said Daisy. ‘That was simply dreadful and can be ignored. The other thing. She said they looked like grown-ups. Like parents.’

  ‘But she only meant—’ I began.

  ‘No, Hazel! People often say more than they mean, and they do it quite unconsciously. What if that was our’ – she lowered her voice even further – ‘our first real clue? Because … what day is it?’

  ‘Friday,’ I said.

  ‘Not just Friday! What’s this particular day? Think logically.’

  ‘The Friday of the Anniversary,’ I said, understanding. ‘And … and that means all the parents are arriving. You think … you think they might have really been parents?’

  ‘I think there’s at least a strong possibility,’ said Daisy, nodding. ‘Parents wandering about in the woods before the Anniversary begins properly. And if I’m right – well! There’s something quite obvious that we need to do before we go up to the scene at lunch. Do you see, Hazel?’

  ‘We need to find out which parents are supposed to be coming to the Anniversary!’ I said. I took my biscuits from the pile and followed Daisy across the lawn towards the pond. ‘But how?’

  ‘Oh, it should be easy enough. There must be a list. A third former could help— Bother, ignore that. But we can find it, and we will. Now, let’s tell the others of our plan!’

  I looked at her. Daisy’s face was lit up with eagerness. She had a purpose. Here was my Daisy Wells, at last. I bit back all my questions and simply smiled at her.

  ‘What�
��s up?’ asked Kitty, as we arrived at the pond. ‘Have you been plotting without us?’

  ‘Are we going to the woods already?’ asked Beanie, her face peaky with worry. ‘I don’t know if—’

  ‘We’re not going to the woods until lunch time, as I told you,’ said Daisy. ‘And you mustn’t worry so much about being caught. Remember that everyone will be more distracted than usual because of the Anniversary, as well as my cunning plan. But yes, we have been talking privately, because Hazel and I are still by far the most senior detectives in this society.’

  ‘It’s really not fair,’ grumbled Lavinia. ‘We’re supposed to be working together! Hey, Beanie, can I have your biscuits? I’m starving, and you’re just nibbling them.’

  Beanie passed her biscuits to Lavinia with a sigh, and Lavinia bit into them.

  ‘So?’ asked Kitty. ‘What’s the cunning plan? What genius idea have you had?’

  ‘I am going to ignore your arch tone of voice,’ said Daisy, ‘and merely say that it has occurred to us that the people Beanie saw on the ridge may actually be parents, down in Deepdean for the Anniversary! And if that is true, then there is something we must do as soon as possible, before we visit the woods. We must get a copy of the RSVP list for the weekend. If Beanie really did see a murder, and it involved the parents of a Deepdean girl, then there will be one guest on that list who does not arrive tonight – for the most horrid reason!’

  2

  ‘But we can’t just steal the list!’ said Kitty.

  ‘Of course we can,’ said Daisy, rolling her eyes.

  ‘No, we can’t,’ said Kitty, more forcefully. ‘There’s only one list. Haven’t you been paying attention? Miss Lappet is in charge of it, and she’s been fussing about it for weeks – I heard her talking to Miss Barnard about how the table settings keep on having to change as parents RSVP. It never leaves her side.’

  ‘Well then!’ said Daisy, though I could tell from her quick frown that she was momentarily thrown by the fact that Kitty knew more than she did. ‘Well then, if it’s up to date, all the more reason why we need to see it! If a father telephoned this morning to say that his wife won’t be attending at the last minute, we need to know.’

  ‘But how are we supposed to get hold of it?’ asked Lavinia. ‘Miss Lappet is hiding in Barny’s office, like she does every bunbreak – and bunbreak is almost over.’

  I thought – and then the most Daisyish plan came into my head, quick as a wink.

  ‘We just need to keep to timetable,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that right, Daisy?’

  Daisy looked at me, her eyes very slightly narrowed.

  ‘Because,’ I went on, ‘we’ve got History after bunbreak. With Miss Lappet!’

  ‘AH YES!’ said Daisy, relieved. ‘Watson is quite right. All we need to do is cause a diversion just before History starts, take the list from Miss Lappet, and Hazel will copy it down during the lesson. Easy.’

  ‘Easy,’ repeated Kitty, raising her eyebrows at me.

  ‘Easy,’ I agreed – although I was not convinced it would be.

  ‘Well, hurry up, Detectives!’ cried Daisy. ‘Let’s go!’

  We stood together outside Miss Barnard’s door in Big Girls’ wing. I felt uncomfortable, prickly with sweat on my palms and my temples. I took deep breaths, and told myself it would all be all right.

  Daisy knocked.

  There were flustered, rustling noises behind the door, and then it was pulled a little way open and Miss Lappet’s head popped out to glare at us.

  ‘What do you want, girls?’ she snapped. ‘I’m rather busy!’

  ‘Oh, Miss Lappet!’ said Daisy, eyes wide. ‘I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m terribly worried about my History exam. I haven’t been able to get question three out of my head all week – I’m sure I bottled it and I don’t know what to do!’

  ‘Indeed, Wells, your exam was quite dispiriting,’ said Miss Lappet. ‘Question six was your Achilles heel – whatever were you thinking?’

  I saw a flash of real panic in Daisy’s eyes – and then she snapped back into being Deepdean Daisy.

  ‘Oh, Miss Lappet, it’s so hard – everything simply slides out of my brain! I do try, I really do. Only, not being here for so long …’

  Miss Lappet tutted. ‘Wells, really,’ she said. ‘You must apply yourself!’

  ‘But – but – I do try,’ gasped Daisy, and she dissolved into pretty tears. It was a childish trick, but it worked.

  Miss Lappet came out of the study, a large pile of papers in her arms. We all stared at them – I saw Daisy look too – and then we pretended not to. At the top of the sheaf was a much-scribbled-on page titled RSVPs. My heart jumped. The list!

  Daisy began a stumbling apology for herself, and Miss Lappet muttered and tutted and tried quite desperately to pull herself away, but every time she stepped backwards, Daisy’s wails rose again, and she was forced to stop her retreat.

  The bell went. ‘Oh, for—’ said Miss Lappet. ‘Come along, girls, it’s time for History. Wells, now do stop this nonsense and act your age.’

  We proceeded down Library corridor together, our eyes on the list – but just as we passed the Library, Amina stepped out of the doorway.

  ‘Hello, Miss Lappet!’ she said, bobbing her head respectfully – for, as I had noticed, although Amina was full of wild stories and naughtiness, she was always polite to mistresses. ‘May I help you? May I carry your things?’

  ‘Dear girl, of course!’ said Miss Lappet.

  ‘Wait!’ gasped Daisy. ‘I mean – Miss Lappet, we were already here! Let me!’

  ‘But I have already had an offer, Wells. Here, El Maghrabi’ – and we had to watch in horror as Amina took the papers from her, clasping the precious list to her heart, and walked beside Miss Lappet all the way to History.

  We all glanced at each other in desperation. There was nothing polite or grown up that we could do.

  Luckily, though, Lavinia is still not polite in the slightest. Just as we were approaching the History room, she shouldered forward and knocked Amina as hard as she could. Amina gasped, and all the papers she was carrying fluttered to the floor. We all pounced, and in the chaos of collecting the scattered essays I caught hold of the RSVP list and stuffed it, heart pounding, into my book bag.

  ‘Fourth formers!’ cried Miss Lappet. ‘Really!’

  ‘Amina tripped me,’ said Lavinia, folding her arms.

  I expected Amina to deny it, but she did not. She pressed her lips together, her eyes glittering – and then she seized Clementine’s elbow and went rushing away with her into History, looking back at us and whispering something into Clementine’s ear that made her giggle. I felt an uncomfortable twinge.

  ‘Ugh!’ said Daisy, rolling her eyes. ‘Quick thinking, Detective Temple. That was work worthy of me. Hazel, copy that list quick, before Lappet misses it!’

  And that was how I spent Miss Lappet’s History lesson – in writing down names, not of kings and queens, but of lords and ladies, viscounts and viscountesses, knights and princes.

  Amina glanced over at me once or twice, her expression curious, but for Daisy’s sake I stared at her as blankly as I could manage, and she sighed and bent her head back down to her work.

  Past cases have taught me never to guess when it comes to evidence, so I did not merely write down the couples (thirty-eight of them), but the men on their own (twenty), and the women on their own (six, one of whom was Lavinia’s mother). I also wrote down the Council members (ten of them), and the brothers and fiancés of the Big Girls who were coming to Saturday night’s gala dinner. It was a horridly large suspect list and I felt quite exhausted by all the names my cramped hand had scribbled down.

  ‘Miss Lappet?’ said Daisy, five minutes before the bell. ‘I can hear something outside. It sounds like … Goodness, it sounds like Miss Barnard calling your name!’

  Miss Lappet exclaimed, jumped up and dashed out of the room, and I stood and walked to the front of the class, with Kitty as c
over. We both put the essays we had been working on down on Miss Lappet’s desk, and I put down the list with mine.

  As I did so I could not stop thinking about something I had copied down, a note Miss Lappet had made this morning.

  Mr Hilary North and Mrs Julia North (née McKay ’22; Betsy North, 2nd form) Message, 3rd July: Mrs North is indisposed. Mr North will arrive on his own.

  3

  ‘Now, for the woods!’ cried Daisy as we stepped into the shade of the trees opposite House after lessons were over for the morning.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re making us miss lunch,’ I said.

  I had told the others what I had discovered – that Betsy North’s father might be our first real suspect.

  ‘If there’s actually a dead body, you’ll be glad you didn’t eat anything beforehand,’ said Daisy, beaming. ‘And aren’t I clever to create a diversion? Of course, no one can resist a box of chocolates from a well-wisher. I simply telephoned the Deepdean sweetshop and told them that Jennifer Stone’s boyfriend wanted to send her a box of chocolates. Matron’s telling Jennifer off, and all the Big Girls are eating the chocolates or getting ready for the Anniversary, so no one’s noticed that we’re not in the Dining Room! Now, on with our treasure hunt.’

  ‘Treasure? It’s a dead body, you ghoul,’ said Kitty, picking her way carefully through the leaves.

  ‘I hope it isn’t,’ whispered Beanie. ‘I know what I saw, but I don’t … I don’t want it to be real. I don’t like murder.’

  I patted her reassuringly – but her words started up my nagging worry all over again. What if Beanie had been wrong? What if there was no mystery? What would that do to Daisy?

  We clambered up through the woods, brambles catching at our regulation socks, twigs scratching our bare legs, stumbling over on hidden roots and rabbit holes. Sun and birdsong dappled down through the branches above us, and insects whined around our heads. As we disturbed it, the earth smelled heavy and slightly rotten.