Amanda Lester and the Black Shadow Terror Read online

“Says the chap who changed the earth’s tilt,” said Clive unkindly.

  “I decided that wasn’t a good idea,” said Simon. “The law of unintended consequences.”

  “Bah,” said Clive. “You just couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

  “Don’t bah me,” said Simon. “You’re a coward. You need to tell them.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “You’re afraid Owla won’t love you,” said Simon.

  “No I’m not,” Clive shot back. “She isn’t going to love me no matter what. I know that.”

  “You don’t,” said Simon. “Look what happened with me and Ivy. You never know.”

  “She already liked you,” said Clive. “It’s different. Anyway, Pomfritter is a loser. It’s obvious she wouldn’t have stayed with him.”

  “Not from what I saw,” said Simon.

  “He’s a lightweight,” said Clive. “You heard her yourself. She goes for brains.”

  A goofy look came over Simon’s face. “Yeah, she does, doesn’t she?” The look cleared and his eyes bored into Clive’s. “So does Owla. And you’re brainy. It will happen. And I think it will happen whether or not you come clean. But if you don’t, you could ruin it.”

  Clive looked startled. “I don’t understand. When people find out what I did they’ll hate me.”

  Simon’s expression softened. “Do you really think detectives are infallible? Look at all the mistakes Thrillkill and the others have made. It goes with the territory. You have to tell people. In fact, I’d recommend that you tell Owla first.”

  Clive drew back. “What a terrible thing to say.”

  “Not at all,” said Simon. “She’ll be flattered that you chose to confide in her. You don’t understand how women think.”

  Clive burst out laughing. “Listen to the great Simon Binkle, Don Juan.”

  “Shut up,” said Simon, but the idea of being a ladies’ man made him smile.

  Clive grinned. “You really think I should tell her then?”

  “I do.”

  Clive thought for a moment. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  Simon clapped him on the back. “Good for you. Tell me what happens.”

  Clive looked his best friend in the eye. “Of course.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this, honey?” said Herb.

  “Yes, Dad,” said Amanda. “Don’t worry. I’ll be all right. “

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Amanda hugged her father and followed the guard into the prison visiting area. The woman sat her down in a wooden chair opposite a Plexiglass safety screen. When Lila came through the door and saw her daughter she laughed. Her bleached hair was in disarray, as if she’d been sleeping on it without her usual protective turban, and her eyes were ringed with dark circles. She glanced back at another guard behind her, who nodded, then sat down on the other side of the screen and picked up the receiver.

  Amanda did the same. “How could you?” she said.

  “It’s good to see you too,” said Lila.

  “I asked you a question,” said Amanda.

  Lila sneered at her. “You know nothing.”

  “I know you’re a criminal,” said Amanda.

  “Well la di da,” said her mother.

  “Why? What would make a good person go bad like that?”

  Lila threw back her head and laughed. “What makes you think I’ve ever been good, as you call it?”

  Amanda was taken aback. She’d always thought her mother was a bit self-righteous.

  “You’re always talking about doing the right thing.”

  “Ah, but how do you define what the right thing is?” her mother taunted.

  Amanda was shocked. This didn’t sound like Lila Lester at all.

  Her mother laughed again. It was an ugly sound. “Why do you think you’re so wild? That quality the Muffet boy finds so attractive in you.”

  “I’m not so wild,” said Amanda, not following where her mother was going.

  “You will be,” said Lila. “One day it will completely take you over, just as it’s done me.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Amanda. Her mother was talking nonsense. “What is ‘it’?”

  “Your genes, sweetie,” said Lila.

  “My Lestrade genes? The man does everything by the book.”

  “Not your Lestrade genes,” said Lila. “The other side of your family.”

  A shadow came over Amanda’s face. “What other side?”

  “Why your Irene Adler genes, honey. The ones you got from me.”

  Amanda gawped at her mother, horrified. “Irene Adler? The adventuress Sherlock Holmes could never get out of his system?”

  “Listen to you. Adventuress my foot. She was a cold-hearted criminal. The most brilliant, exciting, dangerous woman in the world, and you and I are just like her.”

  “No!” cried Amanda, backing away and putting the receiver down. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Ask your father,” Lila mouthed, and smirked.

  Amanda ran from the visiting room straight into her father’s arms.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” he said.

  “She said I’m descended from Irene Adler,” Amanda sobbed. “And that one day I’ll be a criminal.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Herb said, holding her tight. “Don’t listen to her.”

  “So it isn’t true then?” Amanda said.

  Herb stroked her hair. “Well I . . .”

  She drew back and looked at him. “It is true?”

  “It’s true,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll turn out to be like her. Genes control only so much.”

  “But look at how she turned out,” Amanda said. “And she started out just fine.”

  Herb looked into her eyes. “No, she didn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” she sniffed.

  He sighed. “I was hoping never to have to tell you this. I married your mother to keep an eye on her. I’ve always known who she is and what she’s capable of.”

  Amanda blinked. “You never loved her?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Herb. “Sometimes detectives just have to sacrifice.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “We’ll talk,” said Herb. “It will be all right. Really it will. But I need to speak to her for a moment. Will you be all right here?”

  She nodded. Herb disappeared through the door with the guard.

  Herb faced Lila and picked up the receiver.

  “You told her.”

  “Why not?” Lila smirked. “She’ll find out sooner or later.”

  “She didn’t have to know,” said Herb.

  “Oh, come on, Herb,” said Lila. “Get off your high horse.”

  “This is my daughter we’re talking about,” he said. “She’s going to have a good life and you’re not going to ruin it.”

  “She’s my daughter too,” said Lila. “And I don’t need to.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said. “Don’t make threats.”

  “Oh, Herb, you naive little detective,” said Lila. “I know things about that boy. She isn’t safe with him.”

  “Don’t pull that nonsense on me,” he said. “You’re just trying to stir things up the way you always do.”

  She laughed again. “You’ll see.”

  “A package for me?”

  Hugh Moriarty peered narrowly at the guard. He couldn’t imagine who would send him anything. His dad was in jail and his aunt had shot him. There was no one else in the world except his baby cousin, Bradan, and it certainly couldn’t have come from him.

  Hugh took the package and stared at it, a small rectangle covered in brown paper, addressed in a feminine hand. Gingerly, he began to unwrap it, peeling off the tape slowly so as not to disturb whatever was inside. Then he unwrapped the paper to find a small wooden box.

  He was both excited and concerned. Perhaps this was another of his father’s tests, sent through a cartel member. If so, he
was up to it. Despite all that had happened he still wanted to do well, earn his father’s approval and become his number two man. Someday they’d be out of jail and put that plan into action.

  He breathed deeply and fitted his fingers to the top. The box opened to reveal a little tape recorder, the size of one of those ancient mobile phones. He lifted the top and saw that there was indeed a tiny tape inside.

  He closed the lid and pressed PLAY. The sound of Ivy’s lovely voice filled his cell and his heart. He sat back in a daze and listened, and listened, and listened.

  Three days later they found him passed out on the floor of his cell, the recorder still clutched in his hand.

  Clive was more nervous than he’d been in his life. He should never have suggested that they meet in the logic classroom. Anyone could walk in and interrupt them. But if he’d invited Owla to have a coffee with him it would have sounded like a date and she might have refused. No, it was better that he’d made it a study session, except that when she found out he’d intended something else altogether she’d hate him forever and all would be lost.

  When she entered the room he almost gasped. She looked so lovely with her flawless brown skin, those beautiful dreads swinging behind her, and her trim figure set off by that pink T-shirt and those hip-hugging jeans.

  “Hey,” she said as she sat down next to him.

  He felt like he was sweating all over his body. “Hey,” he said, hoping she couldn’t tell.

  “Professor Ashtar is cool, isn’t he?” she said.

  “Yeah, I like him.”

  She glanced at him and he almost died. Those eyes.

  “What did you want to go over?” she said.

  “Uh—”

  “Was it the logical atomism stuff, because I’m kind of unclear about that,” she offered.

  “Yes, that was it,” he said. “Definitely.”

  She flipped her tablet around. “Here’s the part I don’t get.”

  “Owla,” he said, impulsively covering her hand with his. “Stop.”

  She looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I, uh.”

  “Are you unwell?” She reached out and touched his forehead. He thought he’d die.

  “No,” he squeaked. “I have to tell you something.”

  She pushed the tablet to the side and waited. “What is it, Clive? Is it serious?”

  He nodded.

  “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” she said.

  This was it. Now he had to tell her. “Don’t wuss out,” he told himself.

  “Owla,” he stammered. “I’ve done something terrible.”

  She gasped. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s really bad.”

  “Oh dear!”

  “I’ve betrayed the detectives,” he said, and hung his head.

  Her mouth fell open. She looked positively stricken. “You what?”

  “I told Moriarty something I shouldn’t have.”

  Her eyes flitted back and forth. “What did you say?”

  “It’s awful,” he warned.

  “You’d better tell me,” she said. Then she took his hand. “I’ll bet it isn’t that bad.”

  He looked at their hands together and felt even more ashamed. “Oh it is.”

  “You must tell me, Clive.”

  He pulled his hand away. “I can’t.”

  “How about if I turn around. You don’t have to look at me when you say it.”

  That sounded better. “All right.” She turned around and he took a deep breath.

  “Owla,” he said, and then stopped.

  “Go on,” she said. “I won’t judge you. Really I won’t.”

  “I told Moriarty who I really was. There, I’ve said it.”

  Owla turned around. “Is that all?”

  He nodded. “Well, except that I also told him who Amanda and Nick are.”

  She took his hand again. “I figured that. We all did.”

  He stood up and looked at her. “You did? Why? Is that what you think of me?”

  She moved close and put her arms around him. “Yes. And it’s what we all think of ourselves too. From what you told us it would have taken a super human not to crack. You’re smart and inventive and wonderful but you’re not a god.”

  “I’m not?” he said. “I mean, no, I’m not. Of course I’m not. You didn’t think I thought I was, did you?”

  “Of course not. You’re a really nice person. Everyone thinks so.”

  “Do you think so?”

  She smiled. “Of course I do.”

  “So you don’t hate me?”

  She pulled him tight. “Of course not.”

  It felt so good being close to her but it also made him nervous. He’d never hugged a girl before except for his sister, Lucky, and Amanda, and people like that, platonically.

  He pulled back and looked at her. “But this could be a disaster. If Moriarty gets out of jail. I mean James, not Blixus. He knows it’s possible to travel in time. He won’t give up until he finds a way to do it. Even if he can’t he can mess with the timeline.”

  “We’ll deal with it,” she said softly. “We’re detectives.”

  He brightened. “You mean that?”

  She smiled and her whole face lit up. “I do.”

  Something was still eating away at Amanda. Had she or had she not seen Carl Javor at Mrs. Parrot’s ball in London? He’d seemed real enough, even interacted with her, but thanks to the Moriartys her mind had been so messed up she couldn’t be sure. After weighing all the evidence, such as it was, she decided there was one and only one way to find out for sure: try to get in touch with him.

  She hadn’t spoken to her old frenemy, his sister Jill, since she’d left the U.S., but there was no reason not to. Their fight over the filmmaking club had taken place long ago. They were older and more mature now. She would bury the hatchet and probe her old friend at the same time.

  She went to her room and sat down on her bed. Ivy was studying in the common room so she would have plenty of privacy. She ran a quick calculation. It was 8:00 PM, which meant it was noon in the U.S. Lunchtime. Jill should be available.

  She pressed Jill’s icon and found herself feeling more nervous than she’d expected. She wasn’t sure whether her jitters were due to the way they’d parted or her anxiety about Carl.

  After two rings she heard Jill’s familiar voice.

  “Amanda?” Jill sounded flabbergasted.

  “Hi, Jill,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “I’ll say. I never expected to hear from you again.”

  “I called to apologize,” said Amanda. “I know it’s coming late but I was awful to you and Laurie. I’m so sorry.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  Hearing Jill’s voice made her realize how truly sorry she was. All the tension between her and her two friends really had been her fault. She’d been bull-headed, selfish, and rude. Meeting Ivy and her other English friends had made her realize that. Why had it taken her so long to apologize?

  “How are you?” she said. “Are you still making movies?”

  “No,” said Jill. “Without you the Stick Dogs dissolved. But none of that matters. I’ve been having some personal problems.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” said Amanda. “Do you want to talk about them? I’ve become a much better listener in the past couple of years.”

  Suddenly Jill burst into tears. “Oh, Amanda,” she gushed. “It’s my brother. He’s disappeared.”

  Amanda felt as if an invisible hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart.

  “He has?” she said, almost choking. “What happened?”

  “We don’t know,” Jill snuffled. “It was about six months ago. He went out to go to his oboe lesson and never came back.”

  Binnie and Dreidel huddled in the cafe drinking their tea. The sky had opened up a few minutes earlier and they were glad to be inside.<
br />
  “Are you going to Skye?” he said.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s hard to see how I could stay here. What about you?’’

  “I’m going,” he said. “I never want to see her face again.”

  “I agree,” she said. “But if I stay he’ll feel guilty every time he sees me. I like the idea of that.”

  Dreidel laughed. “He certainly deserves it. But you don’t. Why don’t you come with me? You know how great Professor Feeney is. We’ll be better detectives if we stick with her.”

  Binnie blew on her tea and took a sip. “I don’t know. That feels like they’ll be getting away with it.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “For a while.”

  She looked at the hand and then into his eyes. “What do you mean ‘a while’?”

  “Just this,” he said. “We go to Skye, attend Professor Feeney’s school, get a great education. Then in a year, maybe two, when they’ve forgotten all about us, we strike.”

  Binnie smiled sardonically. “She really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

  He took a bite of his pumpkin scone. “No more than he did on you.”

  She thought for a moment. “I’d have to talk to my parents.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t think so. They trust my judgment.”

  “Well then good. Why don’t you speak to them and let me know?” He wiped the crumbs from his lips and placed the napkin next to his plate.

  She gazed at him across the table. “You’re such a comfort, Dreidel.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, washing the pastry down with his tea. “But I’m really just following the conventional wisdom.”

  “Oh?” she said. “And what is that?”

  He grinned in a way that turned his handsome face into a jack-o-lantern. “Just that revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  24

  Introducing Cousin Kevin

  Simon and Ivy had taken Nigel to the woods behind the school. There were so many people about in that small castle it was impossible to enjoy any privacy. Not that the woods were exactly deserted. A number of other students had the same idea, but they’d tried to time their tryst so they might actually be alone.