Jolly Foul Play: A Murder Most Unladylike Mystery (4 page)

I noticed, with a start, that the Five had gathered around Elizabeth’s body. Or, at least, four of them had. I could not see Lettice – I thought she must be lost in the crowd. They were all still and silent, but then Florence spoke, words that sent a little shock through my body.

‘
Is
she dead?’ she asked. ‘Is she really?’

It was not so much an odd thing to say as an odd
way
to say it – hungry and breathless. My detective sense tingled again.

Could my suspicions really be right? After all, if this
was
something more than an accident, it would be the Detective Society’s
fourth
case. But then again, I know that for Daisy and me, unusual things happen all the time – just like the White Queen’s six impossible things before breakfast.

‘She is hurt very badly,’ said Miss Barnard. ‘We must get her help immediately.’

I stared around at the prefects again. They were all rigid with shock, pale and gasping – but all the same their expressions held something that was not just horror. They all looked rather –
relieved
.

I swallowed. We had all thought that Elizabeth was dreadful and dangerous. But now it seemed that she had turned out to be not the criminal, but the victim.

‘Prefects!’ cried Miss Barnard again, more forcefully this time. ‘Hurry up. Take the girls back up to House! Quickly, please, while Miss Runcible and Jones take Elizabeth to San.’ She was pale and drawn in the light of the bonfire, but she did not break down for a moment.

The prefects could not ignore her any more. They began to herd us away, and as they did so I looked back too, at Miss Runcible brushing tears off her cheeks and shaking her head while she and Jones lifted Elizabeth up between them. But by now we could all see that Elizabeth would not get better, no matter what Miss Barnard said. Whatever Mrs Minn the San nurse tried, it would be hopeless. Elizabeth was already dead.

As we walked back up to House, running feet and sobs echoed all around us, and torches danced hysterically on the path. Everyone was talking, and I could hear the same words: Elizabeth! Hurt – dead – awful – accident – never! – Miss Bell –
murder
.

And there it was.
Murder.
It really was not just me who wondered whether this was truly an accident. But … I thought about it. If this
was
murder, there was one very important way in which this was different to the murder of Miss Bell. The only mistresses on the field had been Miss Barnard and Miss Runcible, and they had been standing in front of us with Jones all the time the fireworks were going off. I remembered that I had heard Elizabeth shouting at the Five to get us all back into line after Miss Barnard’s speech – she must have been alive then, and neither Miss Runcible, Miss Barnard nor Jones had moved past us to the bonfire after that. They were ruled out immediately.

Which meant –
one of the girls
. If someone had killed Elizabeth, it was another Deepdean girl. But could that really be true? And if it was – who?

Up at House, the shrimps squealed in the corridors, and everyone else clustered on the front stairs, talking, talking, talking. The prefects were trying to get everyone’s attention – but, and this was most odd to see, they were ignored. For once, we were all more frightened of what had just happened than of the Five, and any punishment they could inflict on us paled next to what had just happened to Elizabeth.

‘You nasty little things!’ Una cried, throwing up her hands, her crown of golden hair catching the lights in the House hallway. She stormed over to stand next to Florence. I could see that she was upset, although she did her best to seem only angry.

Florence, I could tell, was upset as well, but she showed it in a different way. Arms crossed like a vice in front of her, she narrowed her eyes and turned to stare at Una. The look that flew between them, cautious and assessing, made me wonder all over again. What did they think of what they had just seen? Was murder in their heads as well?

‘Half an hour,’ Florence shouted, turning away from Una with a start. ‘All of you into bed by then, you little ones! Or else!’ But the shrimps ignored her.

I noticed something else, then: one of the Five was still missing. No matter how hard I looked, I could not see Lettice at all, until I turned to spot her standing next to the front door of House. Her hair was wild, there was a leaf clinging to one sock, and she was patting herself down with trembling, distracted fingers. How long had she been standing there?

Just then, though, Daisy made a dash for the stairs – and the gossip – and we all had to follow. As we climbed into the heart of the chatter, I kept on hearing Elizabeth’s death bounced back to me, slightly wrong, like echoes in a cave: her head had been quite broken open; she was hardly marked at all; the killer was a mystery; last year’s killer was back (I shuddered at that, although of course I knew it was not true at all – I had heard from Inspector Priestley himself that they were locked away safely in prison, and Inspector Priestley is the most truthful person I know); a man had been seen running away towards Oakeshott Woods just before the fireworks began.

That last made Daisy prick up her ears. She turned sharply on the teller, a third former called Martha Grey, and said, ‘Nonsense!’

Martha turned pink and opened her mouth shyly. Being spoken to by the glamorous Daisy Wells was daunting. ‘It—’ she said. ‘It – isn’t—’

‘What she means is that it isn’t nonsense!’ said Binny Freebody, stepping in. Binny is a third former who happens to be Kitty’s younger sister. She is dreadfully forward and bold, and we are careful not to seem to take her seriously, even though she did give us very useful help during our first case, last year. I think Daisy is still cross about that.

‘Of course it is,’ said Daisy severely. ‘You never saw a man, did you, Martha?’

Martha squirmed. ‘Not
exactly
,’ she said.

Daisy raised her eyebrow at Binny. ‘This is your doing, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘You’re a fearful liar, Binny Freebody, and you’re making your friends lie as well.’

‘I am not lying! But don’t believe us if you like. We don’t mind, we just shan’t talk to you any more,’ said Binny. ‘Serve you right! Come on, Martha.’

She stalked away up the stairs, and Martha trailed after her, still blushing.

‘She really is dreadful,’ said Kitty. ‘I’m sure she must be adopted. I know she didn’t see anything, and neither did Martha.’

‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘What if it’s a—?’

Daisy shot me a glance, and I bit down on the word
clue
. ‘I’m sure it’s not,’ she said. ‘Idiots like Binny simply want to be involved in anything exciting. They never really
know
anything.’

‘So there wasn’t a man?’ asked Beanie. ‘Oh, I hope there wasn’t! I don’t want it to be murder again!’

‘Hah,’ said Lavinia ghoulishly. ‘But it
is
murder.’ She nodded at me and Daisy knowingly. ‘That’s what you think. Don’t look like that, I saw you staring at each other just now. You think this is just like Miss Bell, last year. I’m not stupid.’

‘Of course not!’ said Daisy. ‘Two murders, in one school? It simply doesn’t happen.’

She was trying to cover up our suspicions, to keep the Detective Society secret and to leave Lavinia out. It was what we had done last year, after all. Then, the secret of the Detective Society had been mine and Daisy’s. But things had changed. Beanie and Kitty had helped us at Fallingford, and on the Orient Express we had been helped by Alexander, as well as by Daisy’s maid, Hetty. Why should Lavinia not be part of this case, and Kitty and Beanie as well?

I felt a flush all up my body, and I said, ‘Yes. We think it is murder.’

Beanie looked as though she wanted to weep.

‘Hazel!’ cried Daisy. ‘Be quiet!’

I knew that Daisy wanted to keep the Detective Society hidden, and treat this case as though we were still the Daisy and Hazel we had been last year – but we had to include the others now, and I knew how to make her do it. Daisy likes secrets, but she loves her own cleverness even more.

‘Well, I suppose there isn’t any way to be sure,’ I said. ‘After all, Elizabeth might very well have stepped on that rake, just the way Miss Barnard said.’

‘She did
not
!’ Daisy said hotly. ‘That’s the trouble with ordinary people: they look but they don’t
notice
. The rake was lying
next
to her, and that’s quite wrong. If she’d stepped sideways onto the rake, it would have hit the
side
of her head, and we’d all have been able to see the wound. But we couldn’t, and that means she was hit on the
back
of her head. The rake shouldn’t have fallen like that afterwards – it wouldn’t have, if it really had been an accident. And that means it wasn’t. Someone hit her and
then
put the rake next to her, after she had already fallen. Oh, bother you, Hazel, you’ve made me say it now! I taught you that trick, it really isn’t fair.’

I shrugged. ‘You have to let Kitty and Beanie and Lavinia help us detect,’ I said. ‘You know Beanie and Kitty already know about the Society, anyway.’

‘What Society?’ asked Lavinia. ‘Is this that stupid thing—’

‘Stop!’ said Daisy. ‘Don’t say anything else!’

I knew she was annoyed with me, but I also knew I was right. Although Daisy has a nose for investigating murder – a talent for it, the way other people can simply sit down at a piano and see the music, or get onto a sports pitch and understand how to put the ball into the goal – even she cannot detect quite on her own.

We all climbed the stairs, past the Marys, third-form friends who adored Daisy, who were huddled together comforting each other. I stepped aside to avoid them, and caught myself staring at the worn patch on the tenth stair up. I saw how frayed the edges of it were, and how the railing next to it was dented and scarred from hundreds of fingernails picking away at its varnish. When I am on a case I suddenly become utterly noticing, as though I am even more in my skin than usual. I could feel myself gathering up all my detective skills once more. We had solved three cases – we could do it again.

I had plenty of opportunity to watch the uproar that House was in as we got ready for bed. No one was keeping to their proper routine – the shrimps were all still awake, when they should be asleep by now, and some of the older girls were getting ready for bed early, just so they could talk without fear of the Five overhearing.

At toothbrushes there was an absolute scrum, and we had to squeeze all five of us around one sink. Beanie was wriggling like a nervous, excited puppy next to me (Kitty elbowed her, and she squeaked but did not stop), Kitty was winking at us all in the mirror, and Lavinia, next to me on the other side, breathed hotly on my neck and stared at Daisy curiously. Daisy herself was ignoring us. She was flexing the fingers of her free hand as though trying to pluck the problem straight out of the air, and I knew that she was preparing to investigate – and also to leave Kitty, Beanie and Lavinia out, despite what I had said to her. But I knew she could not be allowed to do that. I had to make her let the other three in, so that we could all work together. I scrubbed away at my teeth furiously and thought. Then I put my hand on the letter in my pyjama pocket and felt it crumple reassuringly. It reminded me that although Daisy might be the President, the Detective Society was larger than she was. I could overrule her for the good of the case.

Florence came into the bathroom then. I caught a flash of her red hair in the mirror. ‘Fourth formers, you ought to have been back in dorms by now!’ she snapped, but her tone did not quite have the usual bite to it. She was still rattled.

Lavinia spat into the sink, quite deliberately. It was a rudeness, and it made Beanie nervous. As we went past Florence, she stumbled sideways and bumped against her. It was exactly the provocation Florence needed – something concrete that she could punish.

‘MARTINEAU!’ Florence cried, rounding on us. ‘You did that on purpose! Out into the corridor, now!’

Out into the corridor we went, to see Margaret waiting there. My heart sank.

‘Margaret,’ said Florence, looking pale with rage. ‘This fourth former has been insolent. She thinks that because Elizabeth is—
isn’t here
, she can do whatever she likes. Show her she’s wrong, if you would.’

At the mention of Elizabeth, Margaret flinched. She opened her mouth and then squeezed it shut again. A moment later, she was back in control of herself. She narrowed her eyes at us. ‘Up on one leg, Martineau,’ she said. ‘Stand until we give the word.’

‘Let
me
do it,’ said Lavinia at once. ‘I tripped her.’

‘You filthy liar, Temple,’ said Florence. She exchanged a glance with Margaret. ‘But all right, if you’re so keen to. On one leg, now.’

We all had a shock at that. We have an unspoken rule that Lavinia tries to take most of our punishments, and I try to take the rest. Beanie is too liable to cry, and Kitty to talk back, and no one ever punishes Daisy, but Lavinia and I can bear it. Usually, though, the Five squash that idea immediately. That they were allowing us to share out the punishment now – to work together, against what they had said – was yet another strange thing about the evening.

But we were not about to argue. With a wobble, Lavinia raised one leg up off the ground. We all watched her sway slightly from side to side, her face going purple with concentration, until Margaret shrugged and said, ‘Stop. All right, that’s enough. Get in your dorm. And not another word, or I’ll have you all copying her.’

Lavinia stood straight again, and quick as anything Daisy clapped her on the back. ‘Good show,’ she said. ‘Jolly well done.’ Lavinia shook back her tangled hair and looked crossly pleased, the way she always does when someone praises her.

Margaret turned away from us hurriedly, as though she could not wait to be rid of us, and she and Florence moved off together.

‘Elizabeth—’ I heard Margaret begin, but Florence replied swiftly, ‘Wait. Upstairs, come on.’

Daisy’s head was angled after them, and I could tell she had heard as well. I wanted to follow them, and so did she, but of course neither of us could. Despite the new state of affairs, we were still powerless against the rules of House. We were not old enough to follow prefects to the upper floor, no matter what had happened to the Head Girl.