Amanda Lester and the Purple Rainbow Puzzle Page 3

  When Nick had died, or at least when everyone had thought he’d died in the sugar factory explosion he’d set off, she’d believed he was out of her life. But he hadn’t died, as they’d discovered when he showed up at the quarry with his parents, trying to create living crystals to use as weapons. What was it with those Moriartys anyway, always turning everything into weapons? Why were they so violent? Was it something genetic? With parents like Blixus and Mavis, it seemed that Nick didn’t have a chance. But that didn’t excuse him. Just because you had a gene didn’t mean you had to act a certain way. He should know better. He’d certainly acted like he knew better when he was her friend. But of course he was a good actor. He’d even told her so. She just hadn’t understood what he really meant.

  And then, just when Amanda was beginning to get used to the idea that Nick was dead—enough to form a new relationship with Scapulus Holmes, a boy she’d never expected to like, let alone love—Nick had turned up alive. How dare he play with her like that? He’d enjoyed seeing the look on her face that day at the quarry. He’d taunted her and called her Lestrade and broken her heart all over again. How could he be so cruel?

  Of course she was glad he wasn’t dead, and not just because now she might be able to resolve her issues with him. But when he reappeared, everything else disappeared. How dare he do that to her? How dare he do that to Holmes, who had never even known him, let alone hurt him?

  Scapulus. What should she do about him? Should she try to convince him she hated Nick and loved him? Or should she leave things alone, let him go without a word? If she tried to get him back she’d be committing herself, and she didn’t feel ready for that. But if she let him walk away, she’d lose him forever, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that either. She felt as if wild horses were tearing her apart. It was best not to think about any of it.

  Except that there Holmes was right in front of her, his beautiful mocha skin thick with construction dust. She looked down at her own body. She was all dusty too. She was so preoccupied she hadn’t even noticed. What she did notice was that he suddenly seemed taller. He must have shot up overnight.

  As soon as Holmes saw her, a look of pain came over his face. Then, catching himself, he walked right up to her and said, “Has Thrillkill said anything about the film?”

  After everything that had happened, this was what he had to say? Now it was Amanda’s turn to wince. She felt an urge to turn her back on him and walk away, but that wouldn’t do. Instead she said, “No, nothing yet, but he’s asked me to call some of the kids back to campus. He’s given me a list of stuff he wants us all to do.”

  “Me too?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Of course,” he said, attempting to look nonchalant. It wasn’t working.

  He set the laptop he was carrying down on a bench and took the list from Amanda. It was Professor Redleaf’s computer—the same one the teacher had been using that day in front of her class. As he was reading the list, Amanda sat down and glanced at the screen.

  “Don’t look at that!” he cried, but it was too late. As she watched in horror, the screen deformed and, like a kid with chewing gum, blew a bubble at her. After a moment the bubble retracted back into the screen, only to be replaced by the words, “Hello, Amanda. It’s about time we met, don’t you think?”

  Holmes went limp. She knew this was what he’d been trying to keep from her, and no wonder.

  “What in the world was that?” she said.

  He sighed. “I’m afraid you know as much as I do. I’ve been trying to figure this out for months and I’m no further along than when I started.”

  2

  In Search of Blixus

  At last Amanda knew what Professor Redleaf had seen right before she died, and it was beyond weird. A screen that seemed alive! However, when she thought about it, the bubble might be easily explained.

  “Scapulus,” she said trying to keep her voice neutral, “do you think there might be a flaw in the computer’s materials?”

  “I wish,” Holmes said. He sounded unbelievably frustrated. “I wondered if perhaps the screen was heating unevenly, and I spent a fair amount of time looking into the possibility, but the problem is that every time it contorts itself into shapes, a personalized message appears. That, of course, signifies intention.”

  “Yes,” said Amanda. “My explanation would have been too easy.”

  “I’m afraid so.” He met her eyes and quickly turned away. She felt a twinge, as though Editta’s mother were already stabbing her effigy.

  “Who is that on the other end?” she said.

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure that out too. He or she is too clever. I haven’t been able to trace the signal to its origin. It’s being routed dynamically and I can’t keep up with it.”

  “Have you tried profiling the hacker?” said Amanda. Understanding people’s motivations often helped identify them and make it possible to predict what they were going to do next. Amanda was used to doing that when making films. That way she could write complex characters and theoretically direct actors more effectively, although she’d had trouble with the latter. Until she’d come to the UK a few months before, everyone who worked with her had left in a huff, no doubt due to her control freak attempts to boss them. She’d gotten much better about that, though. You couldn’t boss detectives, and Amanda had learned to tone it down.

  “I have, but I’ve come up empty-handed.” He sighed.

  “The obvious question is, is it Moriarty?” The criminal was certainly the most likely prospect.

  “I can’t tell,” said Holmes. “It could be.”

  “Who else would do such a thing?” She tried to imagine who it might be, but all she could think of was Moriarty, Moriarty, Moriarty.

  Holmes sat down on the bench, then seemed to remember that he should invite her to do so as well. She’d never seen him so distracted. He motioned to the space next to him. “As far as we know, the overlap between those who want to hurt us and those who are technically capable of something like this is rather small. There could be more of them out there that we aren’t aware of, of course.”

  She eyed the spot for a little too long, then tentatively lowered herself onto it. Now the computer was between them. “How long does it take to become this proficient?”

  “It depends on several factors: where you start from, who you learn from, your intelligence, and your motivation.”

  “Could I do it?” she asked. She knew it was a dumb question. Her technical expertise lay in working with video and 3D software, not systems stuff. She was learning, though. After Holmes had taken over Professor Redleaf’s class last term, she’d advanced exponentially.

  “Not today you couldn’t,” he said. “Put it this way: I couldn’t do this right now. If I could replicate the process, I could find the hacker.”

  “You can’t do this?” she said, aghast. She thought Holmes could do anything, or at least anything related to computing. His filmmaking skills could definitely use some work.

  “Not at the moment, no. I could eventually, but it would take a while. I don’t have the physics at my command.” He absently stroked the keyboard with a finger, then leaned forward and blew the dust away.

  “Is there anyone at Legatum who could do this right now?” she said.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Not even Simon?” Simon Binkle, one of Amanda’s best friends and a total geek, had one of those technical minds Amanda couldn’t begin to comprehend. He was at least as smart as Holmes, and better at building things.

  “Not even Simon. I think he has the capacity, but he doesn’t have the knowledge right now, no.”

  Suddenly she got an idea. She didn’t know why it popped into her head, but she thought she might as well ask.

  “Could Harry Sheriff do it?” She didn’t trust that guy. Maybe he was the hacker.

  “Harry Sheriff?” Holmes was aghast. “That fifth-year bloke all the girls are
crazy about? Not a chance.”

  She turned and looked at him. “How do you know?”

  He seemed to feel her gaze on him. It took him a moment to meet it. She felt as if she were torturing him. “I’ve observed him. He’s frivolous. Unless he’s putting on an act, he doesn’t have it in him.”

  She turned to the front again. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Holmes relax. “What about the teachers?”

  He thought for a moment. “Professor Redleaf could have done it in time.”

  “Yes. I thought so. Unfortunately . . .”

  “I know,” he said sadly. “I miss her too.” Amanda didn’t exactly miss the cyberforensics teacher. She’d barely known her. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he missed her. “Other than that, let me think. Professor Ducey has the right kind of mind, but I don’t think he has the background.” Professor Ducey was the logic teacher, and he was so intelligent he was scary. “Actually, you’re going to laugh, but Sidebotham could do it. She’s the smartest teacher at the school.”

  “You’re kidding. That old lady?” Amanda had a hard time imagining the old prune as the school’s pride and joy.

  “Yup. That old lady, as you say, is easily as intelligent as Professor Redleaf was. But she doesn’t have the background either.”

  “And the Moriartys do?”

  Holmes looked upset again. Amanda wondered if Nick was capable of this kind of hacking and Holmes knew it. She wished she hadn’t asked.

  “I think they do, yes.”

  She let that sit. She didn’t want to get into a discussion of which Moriarty could do what.

  “What do we do now?” she said.

  “I guess continue as I have been. Unless the hacker does something different that gives me more insight.”

  She wondered if he realized what he’d said. The idea was brilliant. “Do you think we could goad them into doing that?”

  He sat up and looked at her. “Now there’s a strategy. I like that. What do you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, trying to smile, “but I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  “Good thinking, Amanda.” He looked so happy it was almost as if the last few days hadn’t happened. He opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of whatever it was and clamped it shut.

  “About the film,” she said.

  “Yes, the film. You don’t really want to do that, do you?”

  “Not particularly. Do you?” He shook his head. If it hadn’t been for the hacker, he might not even be on campus now. What would he be doing instead? Probably getting another patent. When she’d found out that he’d got one, she’d gone nuts, thought he was a know-it-all. But that was before. Now she admired him beyond just about anyone else, even Darius Plover.

  She snapped to. He was waiting for her to tell him about the film. “I’ll set something up with Thrillkill, shall I? We need to understand what he wants.”

  “Thanks,” he said looking at her just a little too long. He picked up the computer, turned away, and walked toward the boys’ dorm. Amanda had to stop herself from running after him.

  When Amanda got to the common room, she saw that the school’s two décor specialists, Alexei Dropoff and Noel Updown, whom the kids called the décor gremlins because they always changed the scenery when the kids weren’t looking, hadn’t altered the decoration since the last day of school. The room was still set up to look like Downton Abbey. Normally the men concocted a new look each day so the students could practice their observing skills, because Professor Sidebotham, the school’s observation teacher, gave them daily pop quizzes based on what they had seen, heard, and touched. Sometimes Amanda enjoyed the constant change, but often it just got wearying, and by the end of each term she was so sick of the quizzes that she hoped never to see a new lamp or chair again. She guessed that because there were so few students around now, the gremlins had eased up and given themselves a bit of a rest in preparation for the fall term—if there actually ended up being one, the way things were going.

  As she sat down on a red leather sofa, Amanda looked out the huge picture windows that faced the east side of the campus. She loved gazing out at that view, even when the trees were bare and the landscape brown. It had been raining heavily and the ground was muddy. She hated this weather. It was warm enough that you could wear T-shirts, but you still had to act like it was winter because of all the mess.

  Los Angeles, her hometown, wasn’t like that. In L.A. it almost never rained and the temperature rarely dropped below the mid-fifties. If anything the place was too hot and dry. That was why so many brush fires broke out each year. Fires or no, she missed her home. England was beautiful, but it was so much work to live there. In L.A. life was breezy. No snow to shovel, no icicles to dodge, no freezing temperatures that required wearing a jacket indoors. But there was also no Legatum, and in L.A. she hadn’t had friends. England was definitely better despite the weather.

  The view out the windows was stunning. Amanda could see a beautiful rainbow shining against a cloud-studded blue-gray sky. She thought it was the loveliest thing she had ever seen, shimmering there in the vapor. The colors were so bright you almost had to wear sunglasses. She smiled in spite of herself and snapped a picture to savor. It was a good thing she’d captured the scene because within a couple of seconds, the rainbow had vanished.

  Now that she had time to think away from Holmes, she turned her attention to the question of the hacker’s identity. Blixus Moriarty was brilliant. There was no doubt of that. Whether he could be the hacker, however, she didn’t know. When Professor Redleaf had seen whatever she had, Moriarty had been in prison. Were inmates allowed access to computers? If not, it was always possible that someone had sneaked a tablet or phone in for him to use. She was sure he’d have found a way if he’d wanted to. As far as she was concerned, he was the prime suspect.

  Mavis Moriarty was a different matter. Amanda knew little about her. She’d posed as the Legatum cook’s assistant, and Amanda and her friends had discovered that she had actually cooked all the meals herself and let the cook take the credit. Everyone said that the cook was blackmailing Mavis, but no one knew why. She’d obviously learned how to cook for large groups somewhere, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a hacker as well. Nick had lied so much about himself and his parents that she didn’t really know anything about Mavis. Amanda mentally filed her in the “possible” category.

  Nick himself was super smart. He was a whiz with his computer. She’d seen him root around under the hood many times. But whether his expertise exceeded what she’d seen him do she didn’t know. If he did have the knowledge necessary to hack Professor Redleaf, when and where did he practice? In his dorm room? Some vacant classroom? Or had he been holding off while at Legatum, only to return to his real work after his disappearance?

  Nick certainly had the motivation. Like his father he would stop at nothing to further their criminal enterprise, but something told Amanda that he couldn’t have pulled off a stunt of this magnitude. She mentally filed him in the “unlikely” category. But wait a moment. The message she’d seen, directed to her personally, had Nick written all over it. Yes, the hacker had called her Amanda rather than Lestrade, but that was probably to hide his identity. Calling her by her ancestor’s name would be a dead giveaway, and Nick was way more clever than that. No, he wasn’t an unlikely suspect at all. Too bad. She desperately wished it weren’t him but she knew better. She changed his designation to “prime suspect.” It was okay to have two prime suspects, wasn’t it?

  Of course Blixus Moriarty knew all kinds of criminals who could have helped him. Aside from the few she’d seen at the sugar factory, she had no idea who these people were or what they could do. She and Holmes would have to find out. Amanda and Holmes again. Well, Thrillkill had assigned her all the tasks on the list, and Professor Redleaf’s computer was one of them, so yes, this was her project as well as his. Fortunately her friends would be back on campus
soon, and they would be better suited to work on the question than she was, plus less likely to upset Holmes.

  Her friends! She’d better get in touch with them at once, before they became involved in something they couldn’t get out of. What had each of them said they were going to do over the summer? Amphora Kapoor, one of her two roommates, had declared that she was going to spend all of June, July, and August designing and making clothes. Surely she could leave that. Simon had planned to work on his skateboard designs and his Earth-tilting project. Amanda had to laugh. Simon actually thought he might be able to reverse global warming via some scheme to alter the tilt of the earth. Ivy Halpin, Amanda’s other roommate, who was blind, had mentioned that she was going to work on her sensory observation seminars for Professor Sidebotham and also write some music. She could put those things off for a while. And Clive Ng, a geology enthusiast and recent addition to their little group, had informed them that he was going rock hunting all summer, again something that could wait. Good. They were all available.

  She decided to start with Ivy. Ivy was her best friend, a joy to be around, and the caretaker of a gorgeous golden retriever who was the best dog on the planet. Nigel was technically a guide dog, but he was so much more. He was sweet, protective, and wicked smart. Everyone loved him, even Amphora, who had balked when she’d learned she would be sharing a dorm room with him. Ivy and Nigel had left Legatum only a couple of days before, but already Amanda couldn’t wait to see them again.

  She pressed Ivy’s icon. The phone rang and rang and finally went to voice mail. Behind her outgoing message, Ivy had recorded one of her original compositions. The girl had talent coming out of her fingertips. If she weren’t going to be a detective, she could easily be a successful musician. Amanda left a message and went on to Amphora.