Jolly Foul Play: A Murder Most Unladylike Mystery (21 page)

We really had ruled out two suspects, but we had also proved that there was a window of five minutes when any of our remaining three could have very easily killed Elizabeth. We were closer, but we were not there yet.

Then someone ran past in the corridor outside. ‘She’s back!’ they shouted. ‘She’s back!’

The three of us stared at each other, and then Daisy turned and dashed out of the airing cupboard, Lavinia and me just behind. My heart was beating madly. Had Binny really been found?

We reached the top of the stairs and looked down into the hallway. There was a girl in Deepdean uniform, hair tangled and shoes muddy. Matron had her by the shoulders and was shouting at her, face close up to hers with rage, while behind her Una shrugged off her coat and brushed down her skirt.

It was Rose. She was wet through, and muddy, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks.

Behind me there was a groan. I turned to see Kitty, her hands clapped over her mouth and her eyes wide. She saw me looking, and took a step backwards. ‘Of course it isn’t her,’ she choked out. ‘That little idiot! I should have known she wouldn’t be found so easily.’

Worry settled in my stomach.

‘Go upstairs!’ Matron bellowed at Rose. ‘Get out of my sight! Prefects, look after the girls. I must telephone the police.’

Rose made a sobbing noise and fled up the stairs towards us. Jose was there to meet her, and Kitty turned away from them as they met.

Daisy took my hand then, and I started. Her eyes were glittering and her colour high. For a moment I thought she was
glad
that Binny was still missing, and Kitty was aching about it, but then I understood that she was only determined.

‘Watson,’ said Daisy in a quick whisper meant only for me. ‘We’re close. But if we don’t solve the mystery …
you
know.’

I nodded, very slightly. We had to solve the case. Binny’s life now depended on it.

After toothbrushes we all climbed into bed, and I huddled under the blankets to write all of that last up in the glow of my torch. I could hear Kitty and Beanie whispering, or rather Beanie whispering soothingly, and Kitty giving short, jerky responses. I knew that she was still most terribly worried about Binny, and I was as well. We were doing all we could, but would our help still come too late?

At least Daisy and I were friends again. That thought gave me a warm glowing feeling in the pit of my stomach, exactly where the ill sensation had been before. It really was odd how much better I felt after our conversation. It was as though the world was back in place.

I wrote and wrote, balancing my torch on my shoulder (it wobbled about, but I was used to that by now). Then there was a soft noise, just outside the blankets. I paused, and heard myself breathing, and other breaths too – dainty, measured ones.

‘Daisy?’ I whispered, although of course I knew.

‘Coming in, Watson,’ said Daisy, not asking for permission, of course, because that is not ever her way, and then the bed bounced and the covers dipped back and she was squeezing herself in next to me, her elbow digging into my side.

‘Ow!’ I said quietly.

‘Shush, Hazel,’ said Daisy. ‘The others are only just asleep.’

‘Kitty’s not,’ I said.

‘How do you know that?’ asked Daisy. ‘Although as it happens, it’s true. She’s not breathing right. I think she’s pretending.’

I did not bother to explain how I knew about Kitty. There are some things that I feel, that Daisy never will. It is what makes her Daisy, and me myself.

‘How far are you?’ whispered Daisy, craning over my shoulder. She saw this casebook, and then she saw Alexander’s latest letter, unfolded next to it. I had wondered, when she appeared, whether to hide it, but I did not want to any more. If we were to be friends again, for good, then I did not want to hide anything from her.

‘Alexander?’ asked Daisy, though of course she knew. I nodded against the side of her head.

‘I suppose he’s all right,’ said Daisy, after a pause. ‘If you do
have
to be telling someone about the case, it might as well be him. And – well, good work, using lemon juice, so as not to be detected. Very resourceful.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘And … Alexander and I really are only friends, Daisy. You said so yourself.’

‘Oh, very well. We’re Detective Society again, aren’t we?’

‘We are,’ I said, and I bumped her shoulder. ‘And I’ve nearly caught up with the case. What’s wrong?’

‘Binny,’ said Daisy. ‘I couldn’t say it earlier, but I think it might be too late.’

‘Daisy!’

‘I’m only being realistic. Someone has to be! I’m not cruel, Hazel, I’m just truthful. She hasn’t come back on her own, and no one heard her being taken. She’s so loud – if she’s trapped somewhere, why hasn’t she been screaming? I couldn’t say any of that to Kitty, of course, but I’ve been thinking it.’

This, for Daisy, was quite restrained. I was rather impressed by her.

‘Of course, we keep on trying to find her tomorrow,’ said Daisy. ‘If anyone can find her, we will.
Before
the police.’

‘The Detective Society will,’ I agreed.

I think both of us thought we were lying.

There was a part of me that had been hoping, despite our conversation, that Daisy and I would wake up to find Binny back and annoying people, but the wake-up bell went on Saturday morning to find House still in chaos, Binny still missing and a peaky look on Kitty’s face that deepened as we dressed and went down to school.

‘They must have called Mummy by now,’ she said. ‘I wonder what she’ll think? Daddy’s away on business – I’ll bet you anything Mummy will think Binny’ll be back in the end, when she’s bored. Binny’s run away from home before, you see, for the attention, but she never stays away long. Mummy won’t even come down until—’

Until they find her
, I thought. We had to hurry.

‘D’you know,’ said Lavinia as we walked through Old Wing Entrance, ‘there’s something that
hasn’t
happened.’

We all looked at her.

‘There haven’t been any more secrets released, not since yesterday. So Binny really
must
have been behind them.’

‘Assistant Temple,’ said Daisy, surprised, ‘you are quite right!’

‘Gosh!’ said Beanie, rather sadly. ‘So it really was her!’

‘We already knew that!’ said Daisy. ‘After all, why else would someone take her? We must work on the assumption that the person who killed Elizabeth has Binny, and keep watch on our remaining three even more closely this morning. It’s Elizabeth’s memorial service, after all, the perfect opportunity to observe them. Are you agreed?’

We all nodded.

‘What I want to know, though,’ said Lavinia suddenly, ‘is why no one heard Binny yelling when she was taken. She’s terribly loud, isn’t she? Why didn’t she scream?’

It was exactly what Daisy and I had been wondering last night. I felt ill, and Kitty turned positively green.

‘I expect they muffled her when they took her,’ I said quickly. But in my head, I was coming to think something different. What if Binny really
was
the second victim?

The memorial service was horrid. It took place in the Hall – we all filed in for Prayers, and then stayed, in awkward, shuffling rows. Elizabeth’s parents were there, her mother very small and mousy and her father very large and unnervingly like Elizabeth, with a square face and clenched jaw. Neither of them cried, although her mother looked as though she might break at any moment. No one else from outside the school came.

‘
No one
,’ whispered Kitty wonderingly. ‘Imagine!’

I imagined. No one else caring whether you were dead or not. No uncles and aunts, or nursery friends, or servants. Suddenly I remembered what Florence had said, that gathering secrets was
the only way Elizabeth knew to be close to someone
, and I felt desperately sad. Poor Elizabeth.

I also watched our three remaining suspects. Enid looked pale, and cross, and harassed. She had her hands folded to her chest as though she still thought there was a school book there, and she did not look at Mr and Mrs Hurst once. Una, though, seemed not to be able to look away from them. She stood tall, her knuckles clenched around the chair in front of her, and stared and stared at the Hursts. Florence, three seats away, leaned against a pillar and looked ashen. She really did look ill, and I felt concerned. She had to read a poem, and I thought she would not be able to bear it.

‘
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old …
’ Florence read, with shaking hands and short breath, and for a moment it looked as though she would crumple.

‘Touching,’ muttered Miss Lappet behind us, and I caught Daisy rolling her eyes. I knew what she was thinking: that grown-ups can be so trusting sometimes.

Then I craned round a little more, and felt a little jump, like a shock from a woollen jumper. There was a man standing at the back of the Hall, hands folded respectfully over his hat and his head bent. I knew that coat, and that crumpled forehead. I knew the man very well indeed. It was Inspector Priestley. He was here! Even though I had guessed he would be one of the policemen here to help with the search for Binny and Rose, it was still a shock to see him. The last time I had encountered him was at Fallingford, after what happened to Mr Curtis. I wondered if he knew about Elizabeth’s death, and whether he also suspected there might be more to it than just an accident – and if not, would Daisy and I get the opportunity to explain things to him?

The organ blared for one more hymn, and then we were filing out of the Hall at last. ‘Daisy!’ I hissed, nudging her and nodding my head – but the Inspector was already gone.

The rest of that morning was terribly tense. We followed our three suspects as best we could. At bunbreak (squashed fly biscuits) Una went to the Hall to tidy the hymn books, and Florence disappeared to talk tactics with the hockey team, but otherwise we didn’t let them out of our sights.

In Prep I could not work. I composed a letter to Alexander that simply said,
A girl has been kidnapped. We are on the trail of the murderer, her kidnapper, but I am not sure that we will be in time.
It felt soothing to admit this to someone who was not Daisy, and at that moment I really saw how I could be both Daisy’s friend and Alexander’s. I could be honest with both, but I did not have to give them the same part of myself. There were some things that Daisy did not need to know, and plenty that Alexander could never understand.

Lunch was a rarebit, with spotted dick for afters. I thought I could not eat, but then Beanie and Kitty could not either, and I ended up eating both of theirs. I felt rather ill after that, and could not decide if it was nerves or stodge. Every ring of every bell was bringing us closer to the hockey match and our re-enactment of the crime. The hockey team were all gathered on one table, talking. There was Clementine among them, looking rather smug to be with so many Big Girls and with Florence. I thought Florence was looking pale against her red hair, but I could not be sure.

They all trooped off down to the sports field, and we followed, wrapped up in our House scarves. Daisy held hers up to her face and whispered orders through it. ‘Now, Beanie, Kitty and Lavinia, once the match begins, you must be our three suspects. Beanie, you’ll be Una, while you, Kitty, can be Florence, and Lavinia can be Enid. I want you to follow what we know of their movements on the night. Of course, the bonfire is where it was, and we know that Elizabeth fell between it and the pavilion, just far enough away from the fire to be out of the light.’

‘What about you and Hazel?’ asked Lavinia, scowling.

‘We shall observe you,’ said Daisy smoothly. ‘Hazel will be Lettice until the moment when she ran away, and then Margaret, and I shall be Elizabeth. But we will both also chart your movements. We must do this scientifically.’

‘Last time we used dolls!’ said Beanie.

‘I said
scientifically
,’ hissed Daisy. ‘We are far older now, and dolls were inappropriate last time, anyway. Are we all understood? You will begin as soon as I give the nod, and I want you all to time yourselves carefully. Remember, we think Elizabeth was killed at 7.45, as the fireworks display was in full swing. Do you all know where you are supposed to be at each time?’

Lavinia, Kitty and Beanie nodded.

‘Good,’ said Daisy. ‘You’re quite ready, then. And there’s a crowd around you, watching – it’s as close as we’ll be able to get to Tuesday night. I want all three of you to try to see if you can go to the pavilion, collect the stick and the rake and then get to Elizabeth – me – without coming too close to the bonfire. Hit me, steal the book from my pocket and then go back to the fire to drop the stick. Is that clear?’

I was nervous. It did feel so dreadfully unsafe. What if the murderer should see us and realize what we were doing? But there was nothing else for it. There was no other way we could do this without attracting real notice. We would just have to accept the danger, and hope that everything would be all right.

We went through the gates together, just as we had on Tuesday night, and I felt, as I always do when we begin a re-creation, that we were stepping back in time, back to the night of the murder. I think I have a little too much imagination for re-creations. I feel it, I don’t just see it. Daisy, though, only sees, and sees everything. The emotion behind it all does not affect her. She is merely watching a play in her head, whereas I feel the horror of what happened, and what the murderer felt – and can almost begin to imagine why they did what they did.