She found herself looking into another round room: the library! What a crazy place the castle was with all these circular rooms and gazillions of doorways. It was truly labyrinthine. She hoped she’d be able to find her way out.
She edged into the room and looked around. Wow. This library was even bigger than Legatum’s, which was no small installation. For a moment she was tempted to look for a criminal’s bible, but since she had no idea if one existed she decided that would be a waste of time. Except wait a minute. She might not get another chance. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt.
She crept toward the reference area in the center. A half-filled cup of tea sat on the desk. Did that mean the librarian was about to return? There were lots of places to hide—if she had to and was fast enough. She’d better be because the presence of a plumber in such a place would draw attention.
She glanced at the shelves. The legal and technology sections seemed to go on forever. Considering that it was a criminals’ library she wasn’t surprised. Patrons would want to know how to keep themselves on the right side of the law and research new “business opportunities.” The section on breaching computer security alone spanned three aisles! She noted periodical titles like Black Hat Hacking and Exotic Mini-weapons You Can Build, reference books such as Criminal Law Loopholes and Encyclopedia of Breaking and Entering, as well as a special section for emergent technologies criminals could adopt.
This was disturbing. Schola’s collection was much more comprehensive than Legatum’s. The reason, as far as she could tell, was that they stocked everything Legatum did as well as the criminal stuff. Apparently they studied every subject the detectives did in great detail. The detectives offered a course in criminals and their methods, but it wasn’t nearly as extensive as this. No wonder the criminals so often seemed to be one step ahead of them. She resolved to speak to Professor Buck, or at least Professor Kindseth. He might actually listen. The detectives needed to expand, perhaps even add an extra year to the curriculum. Not that she wanted to stay at Legatum until she was nineteen, but if that was what was necessary she’d do it.
She pulled a volume called Secret Lab Techniques off the shelf and flipped through the pages. Someone had made notes in the margin in big looping letters. One of them said “Tricia + Nick.” Amanda threw the book down. Seeing Nick’s name paired with some girl’s made her sick, partly because she felt jealous and partly because it reminded her of what a jerk he’d been way back when. She slammed the book shut and replaced it.
With a sour taste in her mouth she made her way to the online catalog and tried a few keywords. There was nothing that sounded like a criminal’s bible. She even browsed the shelves in case it was misfiled, but she found nothing promising. It was most likely in a safe or vault anyway. Of course it was possible that Blixus still had it, if it existed. But Taffeta was so wily that Amanda wouldn’t have put it past her to have stolen it. Whether its absence meant there was no such thing she didn’t know but she decided she didn’t have the time to find out. She was nowhere near finding the glasses and it was getting late.
She was beginning to feel a little like Alice looking at all those doors in Wonderland. The choices were myriad and intriguing. She picked one at random and listened. All seemed to be quiet so she opened it and looked out into what appeared to be the main foyer. The glasses wouldn’t be there so she tried another and discovered a bank of classrooms, again arranged in a circle with a spiral staircase at the center.
She stepped into this latest circle. Someone had stenciled the names of the courses onto the classroom doors. It made for interesting if depressing reading: Advanced Criminal Skills, Identity Theft, Bribery and Extortion. These people were so twisted. Imagine sending your kid to a place that taught you how to be a villain. Before Nick she would have found it unthinkable that anyone would do such a thing. Now that she knew what Blixus had done to him she wasn’t surprised but she was sickened.
She heard someone approaching. Should she go into her plumber act or hide? She glanced around. There was a ladies’ across the way. Without thinking she dashed inside and into a stall.
After a couple of minutes during which no one entered or left she exited the stall and noticed that there was a bulletin board by the trash bin. Yikes! Someone had pinned up WANTED posters of her and the Legatum teachers as well as Nick, Simon, and David Wiffle and of all people Blixus and Hugh Moriarty. Good grief. Taffeta was really vindictive. Legatum didn’t have anything like this. You could read about various criminals on the intranet but they didn’t post their mugshots around the school. How tacky. She reached for her phone and took a picture.
She listened at the loo door and didn’t hear anything so she pulled it open and crept out. The coast seemed to be clear and she started down the hall again. A weird noise was coming from the Detectives and Their Methods classroom. She must have been imagining things because it sounded as if there was a monkey inside. She could hear a weird chattering that reminded her of her unhappy experience with that monkey on the train. She hoped they weren’t doing experiments on it or something. Maybe she should keep listening. She might have to barge in and rescue it.
The teacher was talking about how to spot detectives on stakeout. His voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it. Ivy would know though. Her mental catalog of voices was gigantic. Her and her spooky senses.
Amanda pulled out her phone and texted her friend, who answered at once. She would stand by for a call. Amanda pressed her icon, held the phone up to the door, and let her listen.
“I don’t know him,” Ivy said. “But it does sound like a monkey.”
“You’re sure?” said Amanda. She was disappointed but she could at least make a recording and listen later.
“I’m sure,” said Ivy. “Please be careful though. I don’t like the tone in his voice. He’s dangerous.”
“I will,” Amanda whispered, and rung off.
Nuts. She was hoping Ivy would be able to identify the man. She still couldn’t place him but—she got a flash. Nope, it was gone. It was so frustrating—there it was again. If she could only grab hold of it. She closed her eyes and it came to her but made no sense. She could swear she was listening to the voice of the monkey boy from the train. And then he said it: “Pesto, get back here.”
Amanda couldn’t have been more surprised if Gaston Thrillkill had proposed marriage to her. What in the world was that boy doing here? He had been on the same train with her. She hadn’t watched to see where he’d gone after King’s Cross. Nor had she seen him at the factory. Could he have been headed there? OMG! Had he been a teacher at the original Schola? It was unthinkable.
But that wasn’t the worst thing. Suddenly she heard her own name, or thought she did. She pressed her ear to the door. Yes, she had: they were talking about her. The guy was telling them that she was so shifty and dangerous that they were going to do an entire unit on her!
She didn’t know if she should be flattered or disgusted. To be the object of their study was icky. They would pick apart everything she did and said, snoop into her relationships with Nick and Holmes, make fun of her hair and her filmmaking, and target her for eradication. If any of them recognized her she would be toast. Maybe she should go back to Fern and declare defeat. It was better than being killed.
But when she heard the teacher mention Nick she knew she couldn’t do it. The love of her life may have left her but she was sure he’d be back. He just had to get himself straightened out. Try as she might to forget him, she believed in the constancy of his love as she believed in gravity. And she knew she would not let them get away with whatever they were planning, whether or not it involved Stencil’s glasses.
Suddenly a door opened. She glanced around but there was nowhere to hide. A blonde man appeared and she just about lost it. It was Eustace Plantagenet!
Finding Pesto and his person at Schola was surprising. Finding Eustace there was astounding. So this was what his weird behavior had been about. She knew he had been disappoint
ed when the teachers rejected his application but she’d never dreamed he would turn to the dark side. She thought she knew him better than that but perhaps she’d been wrong. Maybe he had been playing her and the detectives all along. She felt ill.
He was facing sideways and hadn’t seen her. Good. Not that he’d recognize her in her disguise but she would prefer not to test him. But then he turned and their eyes locked. He held her gaze for a moment, shook his head, and looked away. He knew it was her but he hadn’t done anything about it. What did that mean?
She wondered if she should run after him and ask what was going on, then rejected the idea. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her before. He certainly wouldn’t be receptive now. He was probably lost to her. She felt as if someone had kicked her.
Those stupid teachers. They were so snobby. They didn’t know quality when they saw it. Expelling Simon, rejecting Eustace, hounding Nick. She wasn’t so sure they were wrong about David but that didn’t matter. They were obviously myopic. How could they hope to defeat their enemies when they were so blind? If the stakes weren’t so high she’d abandon them and leave them to it. But that would mean the loss of the spectacles and potentially victories for Blixus, Taffeta, and Waltz. She couldn’t do that.
She wondered if she could start her own school. If Taffeta could do it, why not? The girl was only a few years older than she was. It wasn’t your age that mattered but your determination, and Amanda was determined. Perhaps she ought to think about raising money and hand picking teachers who had some real perspective on the world. She’d speak to Ivy and Fern about it when she returned.
But all that was a distraction from what she was really feeling. She felt as if someone had kicked the air out of her. Her friend Eustace, the one who’d helped her break into Crocodile Pleth’s flat, fought the Moriartys at the quarry, and served the detectives in a million ways, was crooked. And as with Nick she hadn’t seen any of it.
She had no idea what to do with this new knowledge. If she were a good detective she would turn him in, although she had no proof that he’d committed a crime. But if she did that the teachers would pat themselves on the back for their prescience. The thought of Professor Mukherjee bragging that they’d dodged a bullet made her sick.
She heard voices and a door opened. Kids came streaming out laughing and jabbering at the tops of their lungs. She practically threw herself behind a statue and crouched down. Within seconds the other doors opened and more kids came out. She glanced at her phone. Nine o’clock, the changing of the guard. She just hoped they wouldn’t see her.
23
All Roads Lead to Schola
Clad in thin body armor and packing his darts and a fold-up gas mask, Holmes set out for Taffeta’s castle. He was woefully unprepared but hoped that stealth would save him. If not, at least he would have done the best he could.
The fog that had descended over Legatum looked promising. If it extended as far as Durham he might be in luck. With that and his black clothing he might have a chance of remaining unseen.
He made his way down the driveway and out the gate. There was a BMW 3 Series parked across the street where that Vauxhall had been the day Nick had stolen it, and the Citroen he and Simon had nicked. He didn’t like what he was about to do but it was his only option. Scapulus Holmes, car thief. He never would have believed it, but you did what you had to do. At least he was prepared this time. No bashing windows for him. He’d brought a glasscutter.
He made short work of the window, slid inside, and reached under the dash. He’d studied diagrams and was pretty sure he knew what to do, but he was no Nick or even a Simon when it came to vehicles and it took him forever to get the car started. At least it had GPS and he wouldn’t have to sit there looking at his phone.
His visit to the quarry notwithstanding, he didn’t really know how to drive and it was nighttime, so he’d have to go slow, especially considering the fog and the hole in the window. It was a good thing he had the GPS because the mist held all the way to the castle and he could barely see a thing. He had to drive so slowly and stop so often that it took him an extra hour to get there. At least he’d managed not to hit anything. So far so good.
He arrived at a few minutes after nine, parking out of sight and continuing on foot until he came to the guard gate. He had experience with those and knew just what to do.
Unfortunately no vehicles approached. He waited and waited in the bushes, damp, cold, and cramped, and began to wonder whether he would have to give up, but at last a car came out the gate. Quickly and stealthily he ran through the exit before it closed. He’d made it into Taffeta’s lair. Now to breach the castle. It sounded silly in his head, but that was exactly what he was doing.
The fog was swirling around and at moments he could see the castle. During one such interlude he caught sight of the front door and saw kids inside. Yep, he was right. It was the new Schola. How Taffeta had pulled that off he didn’t know but he couldn’t worry about that now. All that mattered was stopping Moran.
Now he was faced with two choices: wait for the kids to disperse and enter through the front door or find another way in. The blueprints he’d located online indicated that there were other entrances. Since he had no idea how long it would take for the area to clear he decided to try the other doors.
He snuck around the side, though with that fog he needn’t have worried about being discovered. It was so dark he couldn’t see, but he couldn’t chance a light so he hugged the side of the castle, feeling his way. He supposed this must be what Ivy’s life was like and felt guilty for the good fortune of his eyesight. And then he found the door.
He put his ear close and listened. Suddenly he heard a huge commotion and a large aproned woman rushed through the door. She hurled a plastic bag full of what looked like trash into a bin he hadn’t seen, then flounced back into the building. Seeing his opportunity he stopped the door with a toe and waited for her to disappear. Then he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
He found himself in a dark room surrounded by stone walls. He could see three doors. He crept up to one of them and listened again. He could hear people bustling around preparing food, or putting it away—he wasn’t sure. At any rate, that route didn’t look promising.
The next door led to the loo. The last one was his only hope. He moved close and heard voices, kids like him. He couldn’t go that way either. He would either have to wait until everyone left or go back outside and look for another way in. He decided that sitting around would get him nowhere. He’d look for another entrance.
He made his way back outside, leaving a stone wedged in the doorway so he could reenter. The fog was still swirling and he could barely see, but the plans he’d found had shown an entrance on the other side of the castle. He would have to try to follow the walls until he found it. This was easier said than done as the ground was rough and rocky and he almost turned his ankle. Fortunately light spilled out from a variety of windows and he could kind of see where he was going. Finally he found himself at another door. Unfortunately it had an alarm.
Holmes was no slouch with electronics and might have been able to disable the mechanism, but with the dark and the fog making it hard to work he didn’t fancy the idea, especially since there was always a chance he might accidentally set it off. That meant either entering through the front or going back through the utility area, both of which involved waiting. Well, waiting it would have to be. If he was going to stand around he might as well be dry so he felt his way back to the side entrance and ducked into the utility room again.
This time, however, when he put his ear to that third door he heard nothing. He turned the handle ever so slowly and cracked it open an inch. Still no voices, so he opened it a little wider and looked through into an empty dining room. It was now or never.
Amanda crouched down and tried to make herself into a ball like those bugs that curl up when you touch them. It struck her that this was most un-plumberlike behavior and she probably should have braved it ou
t in plain sight, but it was too late now. The next time she went undercover it might be a good idea to stay in character.
Suddenly she heard a familiar voice, and then another. Philip and Gavin! Well, that answered that question. Nick’s former roommates were still hanging out with Taffeta. And wouldn’t you know it they were bragging about having broken into Basilica’s house and stealing the gold-rimmed glasses. What a snake pit Taffeta had there. Former Legatum students gone bad, evil monkey boys, and a former would-be detective taking revenge. Just thinking about what the girl was doing made Amanda so mad she wanted to leap out and punch the two boys in the nose.
She was glad she’d done a lot of stretching in her self-defense class because all that crouching was getting uncomfortable. She could feel her legs start to tingle and knew she’d have a hard time getting up if she waited much longer. But soon the kids had disappeared back into their classrooms, silence descended upon the hall, and she was able to venture forth.
The glasses were not going to be found in the classrooms. She was certain of that. She still needed to explore the remote areas of the castle so she stepped into the circular staircase in the middle of the classroom area and climbed to the next floor.
She found herself in an area identical to the one she had just left. More classrooms. She was about to turn back to the stairs when something caught her eye. Instead of words, one of the doors featured a logo of some sort, a coat of arms it looked like. It felt more official than the others. Could this be Taffeta’s room?
Amanda crept up to the door and got the shock of her life. Underneath the coat of arms was the name “Moran.” There was only one Moran she knew, and that was Sebastian Moran, the assassin who had worked for James Moriarty. She pulled out her phone and searched on “Moran coat of arms” and there it was. She couldn’t believe it. A descendant of Sebastian Moran had allied himself with Taffeta.
Amanda Lester and the Gold Spectacles Surprise Page 22
