Amanda Lester and the Purple Rainbow Puzzle Read online

  “It’s working!” said Amanda.

  “Yes, it seems so,” said Holmes.

  They watched as the rainbows seemed to lose energy. They were defeating the hacker! People started to come outside to watch, and cheered as each rainbow weakened. Then suddenly there came a huge crack and the entire sky flashed purple. One by one the rainbows reversed themselves, gaining in strength, hue, and shape, until they had become even more saturated and defined than before. The static they put out was so loud that some of the onlookers ran inside to preserve their hearing. Amphora, who had finally joined the group, ran screaming, complaining that her whole body was tingling.

  “Let me try something,” said Holmes. “Obviously he’s got the message, but I think I can match him.”

  He pressed a few keys, squinted, and pressed some more. The rainbows started to weaken again, this time faster than before. Some of them winked out altogether. Everyone cheered.

  Then there was another loud crack and the rainbows grew back again. This time there were hundreds covering the sky as far as the eye could see. Professor Tumble, who couldn’t hear as well as the others, kept saying, “My, my. Isn’t that beautiful?” Professor Sidebotham was taking notes, and Professor Kindseth was shooting video. Headmaster Thrillkill was shaking his head, and Fern kept saying she wished Salty were there.

  “Scapulus, can you do anything?” said Amanda.

  “I’m trying,” he said. “Nothing seems to be working.”

  “Are they off your map?”

  “Yes, I’m trying to expand it. He’s blocking me.”

  “What can you do?” she said.

  “I need to stop targeting the rainbows and concentrate all the energy on the signal to his computer,” said Holmes.

  “Is that a problem?” she said.

  “It won’t be in a second. Just let me—” He fiddled a bit and then watched to see what the effect of his tinkering would be. Suddenly the entire sky opened up and a huge purple bolt pierced the ground, creating a trail of smoke.

  “OMG,” said Amanda. “This is dangerous. We have to go in.”

  “One more second,” said Holmes.

  Then, as if all the lightning in the world had gathered in one place, a gigantic purple arc hit Holmes in the chest. Amanda screamed as he turned every color of the rainbow, then fell to the ground, the colors still washing over him until finally he glowed purple and then slowly returned to normal.

  “Fern, get Salty here now!” Amanda yelled.

  Fern jabbed her fingers into her phone and screamed for someone to get Dr. Wing. Amanda rushed up and started to compress Holmes’s chest while Fern checked for vital signs.

  “He’s alive,” she said. “His pulse is thready though.”

  Tears were running down Amanda’s face as she pumped Holmes’s chest. No thoughts went through her head. She was one with her hands, and they were all that mattered.

  Then they heard a siren and all at once Salty and the other paramedic were there. The tall guy took over from Amanda, and Salty gave Holmes oxygen. Then they put him in the ambulance and drove off. As they pulled away Fern jumped into the back. Then they were gone.

  Amanda faced the rainbow-filled sky and howled. “How could you do this, Nick?” she screamed without thinking. Everyone who was still standing around outside stared at her. Thrillkill came over, put his arm around her shoulder, and walked her back into the common room.

  “He’ll be all right,” he said.

  “No, he won’t,” she said. “Even if he recovers he’ll never be the same. He’s such a good person and Nick is ruining his life.”

  “We don’t know that it’s Nick,” said Thrillkill.

  “Of course it is. Don’t you see? He’s doing it to get back at me.” She was shaking so hard she could barely get the words out.

  Thrillkill took Amanda by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. As hard as he was holding her and trying to keep her still, she was still moving all over the place.

  “Amanda Lester, I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. The Moriartys are evil. What they do or don’t think of you, me, or your cousin Despina has nothing to do with anything. We’re not that important, and you should thank your lucky stars we aren’t.”

  “With all due respect, Professor, we are. You with your cave thing and me with Nick. He was aiming for me from Day One. You know that.”

  “I don’t know any such thing. You’ve read your history. You know what the Moriartys are like. Evil is their family culture. They don’t know any other way.”

  “I thought he did,” said Amanda. “He seemed like he had so much potential. He was so creative and fun, and he tried to help me. He did help me.”

  “Then how can you think he did this?” said Thrillkill.

  “Because I was wrong.”

  Amanda insisted on going to the hospital to see Holmes. On the way there all she could think about was how bad she felt about the way she’d treated him. The injury was her fault and she’d do anything to make it up to him. Perhaps she should give up filmmaking and sever her ties with Darius Plover. That way she could give Legatum and Holmes her full attention. Not that anything she could do would ever be enough of course. She’d feel guilty the rest of her life.

  When she arrived at Holmes’s room he was unconscious and hooked up to all the usual things you see in ICU rooms: oxygen, tubes, sensors. Thank goodness he was no longer purple.

  She sat by his bedside and took his hand. It was cold, so she pulled his blanket around him in the hope of warming him up. Then she drew close and whispered in his ear.

  “Scapulus,” she said. “It’s Amanda. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. This was all my fault.”

  She couldn’t tell if he’d heard her. He didn’t move—not even a twitch.

  She caressed his face gently. “I love you,” she whispered. Then she heard the door open with a bang as Amphora entered and saw her.

  “What are you doing here?” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “You don’t want Scapulus, so why don’t you leave him alone? He’s mine now.”

  “I came to see how he is,” said Amanda.

  “You shouldn’t have. This is all your fault.”

  “I didn’t make the rainbows.”

  “Your boyfriend did.”

  Amanda started to protest, but she knew Amphora was right. What could she say? She let go of Holmes’s hand, glanced at the vital signs monitor to reassure herself that he was stable, and left without looking back.

  As Amanda skated back to the school she thought about everything that had occurred in the last couple of weeks. Why hadn’t she fought to keep Holmes? So what if she still had issues with Nick? Holmes was the one she wanted. What an idiot she’d been letting him go. Now he might die. Even if he lived, and even if he broke up with Amphora, it was too late. It was her fault that Nick had almost killed him. He’d never forgive her for that.

  She’d been so selfish. She was just like her mother—completely self-centered and tone deaf. And that was the most frightening thought of all.

  When she returned to Legatum, Simon shanghaied her in the hall.

  “Were you just at the hospital?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “How was he?”

  “Unconscious but stable.”

  “Are you sure?” said Simon.

  “Well, his numbers were okay. Pulse, blood pressure, that kind of thing.”

  “Amanda,” said Simon, very seriously, “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think he was unconscious at all. He’s disappeared. Thrillkill thinks he’s gone vigilante.”

  33

  Metadata in Danger

  There was no way Holmes could have gone after the hacker. When Amanda had seen him at the hospital he’d been unconscious. You don’t just emerge from a coma, get up, and go. Perhaps he’d awakened and gone for a walk around the ward. He’d been in no shape to do anything more.

  If by some miracle he had been well enough to leave, how would he know
where to go? If he wanted Nick, or Blixus, he’d have to find them. Surely he hadn’t run off just to ask around. But if he’d known where they were he would have told Thrillkill at least, and he hadn’t.

  What if he thought he was well enough but wasn’t and collapsed on the way to wherever he was going? Amanda had to find him at once. If he was lying in a ditch somewhere, or worse, had been hit by a car—the idea was too much to bear. But where should she look?

  What if Holmes hadn’t left at all, though? What if someone had taken him? She found the number for the hospital front desk and phoned, but the stuttering information clerk told her he’d seen no one matching Moriarty’s description. Just to make sure she described Mavis and Nick, but the man hadn’t seen them either. That was something, anyway.

  Where would Nick have gone? Amanda was sure the Moriartys had remained in the area, but Holmes didn’t know that. He might think they were in London, close to the ruins of the sugar factory. Why he’d think that she didn’t know, but criminals always return to the scenes of their crimes so he might have reasoned that way.

  If Holmes had gone to London it would be difficult to find him. He’d have taken a train but it would have already departed. She’d never catch up. She’d have to try though. There was no other alternative.

  Of course she should try to contact him first. She sent off a text: “Scapulus, where are you?” Then she tried phoning but he didn’t answer. She also tried to IM but he didn’t answer that either. Finally she emailed him, with the same result. Perhaps he’d answer in time. He might be walking or speaking with someone. As soon as he’d settled down she’d hear from him.

  The thing to do was hack his phone and find out what his GPS coordinates were. She still didn’t know how to do that, but the teachers probably did. She went to Thrillkill and asked who would be best to consult.

  “They all know how to do that,” he said. “But I’ll do it for you. Let me try.”

  He turned to his computer and started pressing keys. After a moment he said, “Got him. He’s in Windermere, at the train station. Let’s go.”

  Amanda followed the headmaster to his car and got in. He was still driving the Citroen that had been in the school’s garage during the explosion spring term. It had needed some bodywork, but he’d got that done and the car looked as good as new—er, as good as the ten-year-old car that it was. He fired up the engine and tore out of there like a rocket ship.

  When they arrived at the station, Amanda jumped out of the car and ran inside before Thrillkill had even stopped. She looked around frantically but Holmes was nowhere to be seen. The place was small, and she was able to inspect the premises in a flash. No Holmes.

  “Scapulus!” she screamed over and over.

  Thrillkill joined her. “Holmes!” he yelled.

  Nothing.

  They spread out and looked beyond the station. They ran into the trees, down the track, everywhere, but Holmes wasn’t there. Thrillkill took out his phone and tried to test Holmes’s mobile again. This time he got nothing.

  “He must be on the train to Oxenholme,” said Amanda. “With his phone off.”

  “Come on,” said Thrillkill, and they ran back to the car and raced toward Oxenholme, but Holmes wasn’t there either.

  “He must already be on a train to London,” said Amanda.

  “I’ll call the railroad,” said Thrillkill. “They can check.”

  But that strategy yielded nothing either. It was as if Holmes had vanished into thin air. Amanda was beside herself.

  “They must have got him, sir,” she said. “He was probably about to get on the train when they took him.”

  “They can’t have got far,” said Thrillkill. “I’ll call the local police and have them put out an alert. We’re going to find him and Blixus. You’ll see.”

  Thrillkill phoned the Penrith police station and explained what had happened. Then he and Amanda made their way back to Legatum.

  When they returned to the school, Gordon was all in a dither.

  “Amanda, come with me,” he said, stepping around as if there were bees in his pants.

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “I want you to hear something. It’s important.”

  He led her to the teachers’ lounge and told her to listen carefully but stay out of sight. “I think this has something to do with the metadata,” he said. “I think I might have found it.”

  “Do you think he knows about the decoy vault?” Professor Snaffle was saying.

  “Does it matter?” said Professor Scribbish. “There’s nothing in it.”

  “I know, but if he’s found it he might find the church too,” said Professor Snaffle. “I think we should move it.”

  “Excellent idea,” said Professor Hoxby. “The old rules no longer apply.”

  “And the vault at Penrith?” said Professor Snaffle.

  Gordon turned to Amanda and said, “I saw that building. A girl was breaking into it. Before I saw you at the farm.”

  “What?” said Amanda. “Why didn’t you say something? Do you think that building was the vault they’re talking about?”

  “Yes. It makes perfect sense. It was outside of Penrith and it was all locked up tight. It looked like someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hide it. I have to tell them.”

  “Agreed. If you’re wrong, what can it hurt?”

  Gordon coughed and knocked on the doorjamb leading to the teachers’ lounge.

  “Who is it?” said Professor Snaffle.

  “It’s Gordon Bramble,” said Gordon. “I’m a student.”

  “We know who you are, Mr. Bramble,” said Professor Snaffle. “What is it?”

  “Uh, I have something important to tell you, and I’m here with Amanda Lester.”

  “Well, come in and make it snappy then,” said Professor Snaffle.

  Gordon opened the door and entered the lounge with Amanda on his heels. Six teachers were sitting round a table: Professors Snaffle, Scribbish, Stegelmeyer, Hoxby, Also, and Pole.

  “Uh, sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to report something I saw. Near Penrith.”

  That got the teachers’ attention. They sat up straight and looked at each other apprehensively.

  “Well, what did you see?” said Professor Snaffle. Her salt and pepper hair looked wilder than usual, which was saying something. The kids sometimes called her Medusa after the mythical Gorgon, whose head was full of snakes.

  Gordon hesitated. Professor Snaffle could be very intimidating. “There was this little building.”

  “A little building. So what?”

  “Uh, I think a crime was committed there.”

  “What crime? Where was this building?”

  “Um, I don’t know the name of the road. It was outside of town. No, wait a minute.” He looked up as if trying to remember. If he hadn’t been as observant as he should be the teachers would give him grief. “It was called Snortle Road. The place looked like a bomb shelter. It was built into a hill, like a barrow.”

  The teachers looked at each other guiltily. Obviously Gordon had hit a nerve.

  “And what about this bomb shelter in the barrow?” said Professor Snaffle cautiously.

  “I saw a girl trying to break into it. Well, she did break into it.”

  “You what?” said Professor Snaffle almost viciously. Gordon didn’t flinch.

  “Yes. I’d gone to Penrith. If you must know, I went to look for zombies.”

  “Ah, yes, the famous zombies we’ve all been hearing about,” said Professor Snaffle dismissively. “Was this girl a zombie?”

  “Oh no,” said Gordon. “She was beautiful. She had long blonde hair and looked like a queen.”

  “Did you recognize her?” said Professor Scribbish.

  “No,” said Gordon. “I never saw her before.”

  Uh oh. Was it possible? “Wait a minute,” said Amanda. “She wasn’t wearing turquoise shorts and a red T-shirt was she?”

  “I think she might have been,” s
aid Gordon. “I remember she was colorful.” He did that looking up thing again. Professor Sidebotham would have been proud of him. “Yes, she was. If I had to take a pop quiz, I’d definitely say she was wearing red and blue. Or was it green?”

  “I saw her with Harry Sheriff in Windermere the other day,” said Amanda. “They were kissing.”

  “Lucky guy,” said Gordon, breaking into a smile. “Er, I mean, oh never mind.”

  “Did you speak to this girl, Miss Lester?” said Professor Snaffle. “Or Mr. Sheriff?”

  “Not then,” said Amanda. “Harry did make a rude remark later. He keeps grinning and winking at me.”

  “Yes, I imagine he would do,” said Professor Snaffle.

  Amanda glanced at Gordon. What was that supposed to mean?

  “Mr. Bramble,” said Professor Scribbish. “What did you do when you saw this girl trying to break in?”

  “I tried to stop her,” said Gordon.

  “Yes? And what happened?” The teacher was having to coax every little morsel out of him. Gordon may have been a good observer but he was terrible at describing things.

  A sheepish expression passed over Gordon’s face. “Uh, she coshed me, sir.”

  “She hit you on the head?” said Professor Scribbish. He seemed outraged and disappointed at the same time.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “I was out for a few seconds, and by the time I came to she was gone.”

  “Did you see the nurse after that, Mr. Bramble?” said Professor Hoxby.

  “No, sir.”

  “Whyever not?” said the dead bodies teacher.

  “I was fine, sir. Really I was. It was nothing.”

  “When someone knocks you out it isn’t nothing, Mr. Bramble,” said Professor Hoxby. “Now I want you to go to the nurse this instant. No dilly-dallying. Off you go.” He shooed Gordon out the door.

  “Yes, sir,” said Gordon.