Friday Barnes 3 (13 page)

When they got back down to the dorm room Friday didn't let Pauline and Sienna enter straight away. She didn't let Melanie move, either. This suited Melanie. She used the opportunity to go back to sleep. Friday closely inspected the dust debris from the plaster collapse.

‘What can plaster dust tell you about someone stealing my homework?' asked Pauline.

‘It tells me that there was one intruder,' said
Friday. ‘He was a boy with size twelve feet. From the length of his strides, he was about six foot two.'

‘Can you really see footprints?' asked Pauline. ‘It just looks like dust to me.'

‘Yes, his sweaty feet picked up the dust as he ran out of the room,' said Friday. ‘You can see he was standing by the desk when the roof partially collapsed, because his aerial outline has been stencilled in dust.'

‘That just looks like a less dusty patch on the carpet,' said Sienna.

‘And that's exactly what it is,' said Friday. ‘Let's see what he was looking at.'

The three girls walked across the debris to the desk. Pauline's maths homework was lying face up in the centre. It consisted of three A4 sheets of paper covered in equations.

‘Is this the way you left your work?' asked Friday.

‘No,' said Pauline. ‘It was put away in my homework folder.'

‘He can't have been photographing your homework,' said Friday. ‘Thanks to Princess Ingrid, the Headmaster has been extra ruthless in making sure that no-one has a camera on campus. And he wouldn't have had time to copy it all out by hand.'

‘So what was he doing?' asked Pauline.

‘My guess is he brought his own homework in here and checked it against yours,' said Friday. ‘If he had any errors, he could have quickly made the corrections.' She bent down and picked something up from the floor. ‘Is this yours?' Friday held up a lead pencil that had been thoroughly chewed on one end.

‘Gross! I would never chew a pencil,' said Pauline. ‘Think of all the chemicals in the paint.'

‘It's not mine, either,' said Sienna. ‘I only use mechanical pencils. I had a nasty accident with a pencil sharpener as a small child.'

Friday closely inspected the chewed end of the pencil. ‘From the evidence we have so far, we can conclude that you were tricked into going upstairs by a very tall boy with a crooked left incisor and a nervous temperament, who is good at maths but who desperately wants to be better. Does that sound like anyone you know?'

‘Well, yes, … Michael Cathguard,' said Pauline.

‘He's her maths nemesis,' explained Sienna.

‘For four years we've competed against each other for the position of top in maths,' said Pauline. ‘But over the last six months he's dropped behind. Michael
has struggled to grasp some of the fundamental principles of calculus.'

‘We'll have to talk to him then,' said Friday.

Melanie yawned and opened her eyes. ‘I just had a dream about Michael Cathguard. He was standing over me reading a sheet of paper, then a leg came through the ceiling and he ran away. Dreams are always so silly, aren't they?'

‘In this case, it appears reality is even sillier,' said Friday. ‘Let's go and knock on his door. We know he's awake.'

The girls trooped downstairs for the dramatic confrontation. Friday was just about to knock on Michael's door when they heard a commotion.

‘Dette kan ikke fortsette!' yelled a girl.

Friday leaned in close to the door. ‘That's not Michael.'

‘It's coming from over there,' said Melanie. They all turned and looked at the door on the other side of the corridor.

‘That's the bodyguard's room,' said Pauline.

‘Really? Mr Rasmus lives here? That's a coincidence,' said Friday.

‘But who's yelling at him?' asked Melanie.

‘Hun er uutholdelig!' yelled the girl.

‘She's yelling in Norwegian,' said Friday. ‘It must be Princess Ingrid.'

Suddenly the door burst open and Debbie stepped out, slamming the door behind her. She was wearing a large bulky dressing gown, which had been buttoned up right to her chin. Debbie was flushed in the face, but her cheeks grew redder when she saw how many people were standing in the corridor.

‘I didn't know you speak Norwegian,' said Friday.

‘I speak Danish,' said Debbie. ‘It's very similar.'

‘Why were you yelling at Rasmus?' asked Friday.

‘And in the middle of the night?' asked Melanie. ‘Don't you know how important it is to get a full eight hours of sleep?'

‘I can't say,' said Debbie. ‘It's to do with the princess, and how she behaves.'

‘She's being an enormous pain and you're tired of sharing a room with her, aren't you?' guessed Melanie.

A door opened behind them. They all turned to see Michael Cathguard peering out from the crack. ‘You know, don't you?' he asked, guiltily.

‘Let's discuss this in your room,' said Friday, pushing her way in, the other girls following.

Debbie used this opportunity to scurry away.

Michael broke down immediately when Friday confronted him with the facts.

‘I admit it. It was me. I'm so sorry,' said Michael. ‘I put the speaker in the attic above your room, and when you marked an E on the beam I made the same mark on every beam to make it harder for you to find the speaker.'

‘But why?' asked Pauline. ‘You're still the second-best student at mathematics. Isn't that good enough?'

‘My father was so proud when I topped maths last year,' explained Michael. ‘He boasted about it to his friends.'

‘He must have very boring friends,' said Friday.

‘He does, he's an accountant,' said Michael. ‘Anyway, he promised to give me a thousand dollars if I did it again.'

‘Wow!' said Pauline. ‘My parents are super ambitious, but they would never do that.'

‘I don't have to beat you,' said Michael. ‘I'd just have to come equal top. I was getting most of the answers right by myself, but there was always one or two that I struggled with. A thousand dollars is a lot of money. I couldn't resist the temptation to cheat.'

‘Shame on you,' said Friday. ‘What would Pythagoras say?'

‘Are you going to tell the Headmaster?' asked Michael.

‘That's up to Pauline,' said Friday. ‘She's the client.'

‘Let me get this straight,' said Pauline. ‘If you get the same mark as me in maths and we are equal top, you get a thousand dollars.'

‘That's right,' said Michael.

‘Then let's split the money,' said Pauline. ‘If you promise to share the thousand dollars, I'll go over your homework with you every night and show you how to fix up any errors.'

‘Deal!' exclaimed Michael, putting out his hand. Pauline shook it.

‘I love it when a story ends happily with a mutually beneficial morally bankrupt collaboration,' said Melanie.

Friday was sitting quietly in history class, secretly reading a book on criminal profiling under the desk. She was trying to work out whether Princess Ingrid was a sociopath or simply had narcissistic personality disorder, when Ian burst through the door. ‘Friday, you'd better come quickly!' he said.

‘Wainscott! How dare you interrupt my class,' said Mr Conti. ‘You'd better have a good reason.'

‘Sorry, sir,' said Ian. ‘It's just that Friday's father is being arrested, and I thought she'd want to know.'

‘Okay, that is a good reason,' conceded Mr Conti. ‘You may go, Friday, and you too, Melanie – I know there's no way you'll stay awake if your friend isn't here.'

Friday and Melanie hurried after Ian, who led them across the school at a jog.

‘What happened?' asked Friday.

‘I was walking past Dr Barnes' physics classroom,' said Ian, ‘when I heard a commotion. I looked in and saw two policemen dragging your father out into the corridor.'

‘Why did they take him away?' asked Friday.

‘I don't know,' said Ian. ‘Look, there's the squad car out the front of the administration building!'

Friday started running faster now. She could see her father and hear him.

‘This is an outrage!' yelled Dr Barnes. ‘It's the persecution of Galileo all over again.'

‘We haven't persecuted anyone called Galileo,' said Sergeant Crowley. He ran the local police station and as such had dealt with many strange happenings at the school, which usually involved Friday.

‘Dr Barnes is referring to a sixteenth-century scientist,' explained Ian. ‘Galileo was tormented by the Inquisition and sentenced to house arrest for a decade, for making scientific discoveries that challenged church doctrine.'

‘He's got tickets on himself then, hasn't he?' said Sergeant Crowley. He turned to Dr Barnes. ‘Sir, we're not persecuting you for your scientific discoveries. I doubt we could understand even if you explained them to us. We're persecuting you because you've been found to have a large amount of stolen property hidden in your car. You're going to jail for petty theft, not for challenging anyone's fundamental belief system.'

‘He should get an extra six months for giving me an ulcer,' said the Headmaster.

‘Headmaster, I'm surprised at you,' said Friday, as she came to a panting halt. ‘It has been scientifically proven that stomach ulcers are caused by bacteria not stress, and besides, if my father has contributed to your stress you've only got yourself to blame for hiring him.'

‘You told me to hire him!' protested the Headmaster.

‘I'm twelve years old, what are you doing taking advice from me?' asked Friday. ‘And what's this tosh about my father stealing things?!'

‘He's The Pimpernel!' said the Vice Principal, a gleam of bloodlust in his eyes. He enjoyed getting people fired. ‘His car is crammed full of stolen property. He hid the car under a willow tree so the branches would hide his stash, but I saw what he was up to and called the police right away.'

‘And you let him do this?' Friday demanded of the Headmaster. ‘You didn't have to involve the police.'

‘My watch was one of the stolen items in the car,' said the Headmaster.

‘But you can't believe that Dad took it all!' said Friday. ‘Sergeant Crowley, please, you must see that my father is far too silly to be such a competent thief.'

‘I'm not going to conduct an interview with you standing on the driveway of a school,' said Sergeant Crowley. ‘If you'd like to make yourself available for a formal interview, then you may come down to the station.'

‘But I'm twelve, I can't drive!' argued Friday.

‘That's not my problem,' said Sergeant Crowley.

‘Friday, stay away,' urged Dr Barnes. ‘The local police are in league with the Nobel Prize Committee. It's a perfect storm of vengeful forces. I think your mother put them up to this.'

Sergeant Crowley shut the car door on Dr Barnes before he could make any more wild allegations.

‘I suggest you contact a lawyer,' Sergeant Crowley said to Friday. ‘That's the type of help he needs now.'

Sergeant Crowley got in the squad car and drove off. Dr Barnes turned and yelled something wildly to Friday, but she couldn't hear what he had said through the glass.

‘Do you think your father has gone senile?' asked Ian.

‘It's definitely a possibility,' said Friday.

‘I realise I haven't got the firmest grasp on reality,' said Melanie, ‘but that stuff about the local police being in league with the Nobel Prize Committee seemed pretty nutty to me.'

‘I agree,' said Friday. ‘The Nobel Prize Committee is comprised of some of the finest minds in Europe, so I doubt they'd be seeking out Sergeant Crowley for help.'

‘Poor Sergeant Crowley. He so dislikes being forced to do work,' said Melanie.

‘Who do we know who's a lawyer?' asked Friday.

‘Half the student body have parents who are lawyers,' said Melanie. ‘But I think most of them specialise in the type of law to do with not paying tax, not the type of law for getting esteemed scientists off theft charges.'

‘And we don't have any money,' said Friday. ‘So we need a lawyer who owes us a favour.'

‘I know someone,' said Ian.

‘You do?' said Friday.

‘My mum,' said Ian.