Amanda Lester and the Gold Spectacles Surprise Page 6

  But when she thought about it, being a detective hadn’t worked out as well as she’d hoped. Yes, she sold a lot of books, but Herb had disappointed her, Amanda had defied her, and the school had betrayed her. What kind of a life was that? Perhaps it was time for something new. Perhaps it was time to recognize that what she’d thought she wanted wasn’t right for her after all. Most of all it was time to visit her revenge on Gaston Thrillkill and Follifoot Buck.

  She tried to picture herself and Waltz leading the cartel and felt a thrill ripple through her. The thought of commanding a powerful, well-oiled machine like that excited her, gave her ideas. She raced to her tablet and began to type, faster and faster, until the sun had sunk below the horizon. Then she reread every word and realized that the opportunity was too valuable to waste.

  She heard the front door slam, his footsteps on the stairs. He stopped in the doorway, a question on his face, a question that needed no answer. He rushed to her and gazed deep into her eyes, filling them with that light of his, the light that was all for her. Then he kissed her and her world exploded.

  She was in, by God. She was in.

  Amanda pressed Basilica’s icon with one hand and tousled Nigel’s fur with the other. “He feels slippery,” she said. “Like he’s just had a bath.”

  “He has,” said Ivy. “Simon gave him one yesterday. He wanted to try using a neutral shampoo—something he made with baking soda. How does it look?”

  Amanda stuck her head under the table to check out Nigel’s coat. It gleamed like the sun. When Basilica answered she was so distracted she hit her head.

  “Ow!” she cried and rubbed her crown. It didn’t feel like there was a bump but she wasn’t sure.

  “Amanda!” said Basilica on the other end of the phone.

  “Hi,” said Amanda as she straightened herself. She felt her head again. Still okay. “You wanted to talk to me?”

  Basilica sounded breathless. “Yes. About the robbery.”

  Amanda sat up. “Oh really?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mum, but since you and Ivy were so interested I thought I’d mention it.”

  Amanda didn’t remember having been all that interested, but solving crimes was up her alley so maybe she’d exuded something. More than that, though, Basilica seemed worried, maybe even afraid. She’d try to keep things light.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  Basilica’s voice rose a step or two. “Well, it’s just that I think I might know who robbed us.”

  That was a surprise. Surely if she’d known she would have told the police.

  “Oh really? Who?”

  “Hugh’s dad. Moriarty.”

  Amanda was stunned. Ivy grasped her hand and squeezed. She’d heard.

  “Why would Blixus Moriarty rob your house?” Amanda said.

  “Not Blixus,” said Basilica. “That’s the one who escaped from jail, right? Not him. The other one.”

  Now Amanda was even more confused. Surely she couldn’t mean his brother, Stencil?

  “Wait a minute. I thought you said no one saw you when you were at Stencil’s.”

  “Who?” said Basilica.

  “Hugh’s uncle. You crawled in his doggie door and beaned Hugh.”

  “That’s his uncle?” said Basilica. “I didn’t realize. I thought it was his dad.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t the point,” said Amanda. “What would Stencil—that’s Hugh’s uncle—want at your house?”

  “My glasses.”

  Now Amanda was completely lost. “I’m not following you. Why would Stencil Moriarty want your glasses?”

  “Because they’re not mine. I stole them from him,” said Basilica matter-of-factly.

  It seemed that when Basilica broke into Stencil’s house she spied a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles sitting on a desk, liked them, and on an impulse took them. The lenses were clear so she figured no one would miss them. It wasn’t like they needed them to see.

  Amanda found this logic a bit suspect but wasn’t about to say so. At this point she was more interested in the potential connection between the Pashminas’ robbery and Stencil. If the glasses had been the only thing removed from Basilica’s house it did seem that someone was after them specifically.

  “Did anyone else know about the glasses?” she said. “Because if they didn’t it’s likely that Stencil Moriarty was the one who broke in.”

  “There could have been millions of people,” the girl said. “I wore them for a photo shoot. The article came out a couple of weeks ago.”

  Hm. That made things difficult. The list of suspects other than Stencil might be too long to investigate. Unless they could narrow it down. Somehow Amanda didn’t think they needed to though. Stencil must have seen Basilica in his house after all, tracked her down, and burglarized her. But why?

  “What’s so special about these glasses?” she said.

  “They’re pretty,” said Basilica.

  “Describe them.”

  “They have big lenses and gold frames. They’re fashion glasses, quite stylish. I’ll draw you a picture and text it.”

  “Good. What else?”

  Basilica paused. “I can’t think of a thing.”

  Amanda could, and so could Ivy. She was typing madly, trying to tell Amanda something without Basilica hearing. Both of them had reached the same conclusion: the glasses were obviously valuable. Why else would someone break into a house and steal clear spectacles? Perhaps those gold frames were the reason. How much gold was in them, and what might they be worth? Or maybe they were some kind of a first edition from a famous designer.

  “Amanda?” said Basilica. “Are you there?”

  “Oh sorry,” said Amanda. “I was just thinking. If Stencil Moriarty was the one who broke into your house those glasses are important. The gold might be worth a lot or—”

  “There might be something inside the frames,” said Ivy, giving up on the typing.

  “Yes!” said Amanda. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did,” said Basilica. “Ooooh, a microdot. I love those old James Bond movies.”

  Ivy squeezed Amanda’s hand hard. Amanda looked at her quizzically but didn’t squeeze back, which caused Ivy to squeeze again, harder. “Moriarty’s secrets,” she whispered into Amanda’s ear.

  “OMG, you’re right,” said Amanda.

  “Right about what?” said Basilica. “James Bond?”

  “Oh, no, sorry. Ivy just said something. Um, look, Basilica, I’ll get back to you, okay? In the meantime, do not go near Stencil’s house. You got that?”

  “Sure,” said Basilica. “I don’t want to see that stupid Hugh anymore anyway. He’s a turkey. I only went there to find out about Nick.”

  “Okay, good,” said Amanda. “I’ll call you later.” She hung up the phone and said, “We have to figure out what’s going on with those glasses. If Stencil stole them he has them now. And if they have anything to do with Moriarty’s secrets we have to get them.”

  “Basilica doesn’t know we’re detectives, does she?” said Ivy.

  “No. Sasha either,” said Amanda. “Darius didn’t know so he couldn’t have told them.”

  “What about Wink?” said Ivy.

  “You mean did Sasha know Wink was a detective?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know, but even if she did she probably didn’t know about Legatum. He was sworn to secrecy. He wouldn’t have told her.”

  “Hm,” said Ivy. “Maybe we should find out. But if you’re thinking of going after Stencil, there are better ways to find out about Moriarty’s secrets.”

  “Such as?” said Amanda.

  “Ramon.”

  A Bold Plan

  Ramon Splunk was one of the more unpleasant Legatum students, and not because he was a ghost hunter among non-believers. The problem was that he was utterly full of himself and completely tone deaf when it came to the other students’ feelings. He was so given to insulting people that he had alienated almost e
veryone except Amphora, Amanda’s former roommate, on his first day in residence. Now, after his first full term at Legatum, she was the only one who liked him. Loved him, it looked like, for the two were the school’s most demonstrative couple.

  So Ramon was not the easiest person to begin with. However, the fact that Amanda had belittled and insulted him on multiple occasions made the situation worse. If she wanted his cooperation she would have to grovel, and that was something she wasn’t good at. Which was why she suggested that Ivy approach him instead.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” said Ivy. “It’s not going to work.”

  “Why?” said Amanda.

  “He doesn’t like me either.”

  Amanda was astonished. “Everyone likes you. Why would you say that?”

  Ivy hesitated. “I kind of did something to him.”

  “What could you possibly do that would turn Ramon off?” said Amanda. “You’re the sweetest girl on the planet.”

  “Not really.”

  Amanda didn’t believe that for a moment, although the way Ivy had behaved on the train had revealed a side of her she had never seen before. Whatever it was she had to know.

  “Spill.”

  Ivy laughed. “I kind of sicced Nigel on him.”

  Amanda stared at her. Then she looked under the table at Nigel. He was the loveliest, most peaceful dog in the world. You didn’t sic him on anyone.

  “Stop fooling around,” she said. “What really happened?”

  “No, I did. Ramon grabbed my phone and I told Nigel to get it. He didn’t react well. Kind of like what happened with Mavis Moriarty that time.”

  Amanda remembered that. Nigel had merely nuzzled the woman and she had freaked out. “That isn’t siccing. It’s removing.”

  “Whatever it is, he isn’t thrilled with me. I think we’re going to have to come up with something else.”

  “Oh bother,” said Amanda. “I don’t know what we could possibly do to win him over. Unless . . . what does he want? What does he value?”

  “Ghosts,” said Ivy. “He’d love to see a ghost.”

  “Can’t help him with that,” said Amanda. “Even faking it wouldn’t work. He’s too smart.”

  “Right. Well, he’s pretty proud of his ancestor. Maybe something about Micajah?”

  “Micajah. Micajah. Wait, I know.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll offer to make a film about him. Maybe then he’ll see me in a different light. He’ll be flattered. That should work, shouldn’t it?”

  “It’s worth a try. No one but Amphora ever flatters him so it’s hard to know. I suspect he’ll eat it up like candy though. And I heard you rubbing your hands together like a villain.”

  Amanda pushed her chair back. “Yup. I confess. And it felt goooood.” She giggled. “But right now I’m going to make a storyboard. Then we’ll see.”

  Micajah Splunk was an interesting guy. They had already established that. Flamboyant, resourceful, and powerful in a devious sort of way, he had made his presence felt throughout the detective world. Amanda had researched him thoroughly and found that he was every bit as nutty as Sir Bailiwick Wiffle, Nick’s great-grandfather.

  Unfortunately he conducted himself in a way that Ramon couldn’t abide, at least the way Amanda presented him. According to Ramon, his ancestor was a staid and sober man who resembled the real person not in the least. As a result, the boy found Amanda’s proposal offensive and refused to listen past the first few seconds. Dummy! She should have known better. She could have made up a myth that Ramon would love. Now it was too late. She would have to try something else to get at Moriarty’s secrets. And she was getting an uncomfortable feeling about what that might have to be.

  Amanda wasn’t at all sure she would fit through Stencil Moriarty’s doggie door. Basilica was thinner than she was, and although Amanda was small she wasn’t that small. Ivy would have been the better choice but that wouldn’t work. She’d never find the glasses on her own. Amanda briefly considered sending Nigel in, but if the glasses were locked up he wouldn’t be able to get to them either. No, only she could accomplish the task.

  She looked up doggie doors on the Web, but there were so many different sizes she couldn’t tell whether she’d be able to get through or not. It would depend on the size of the Moriartys’ dog, if they even had one. Basilica hadn’t mentioned one, but that didn’t mean they didn’t. They sure didn’t seem like dog people, although what if it were an attack dog? Nah. If that were the case Basilica would definitely know about it.

  Boy, that girl had been brave taking that chance. She could have been hurt! At any rate Amanda could pick the lock on the regular door if she had to. She was getting quite skilled at lock picking. She was almost as good as Ivy now, if she did say so herself. She just hoped there was no burglar alarm. She chuckled. What an idea: a crook with a burglar alarm.

  Ivy wanted to go with her so much that she couldn’t say no, but she drew the line at actually letting her enter Stencil’s house. She would have to wait nearby. It was simply too dangerous a mission for a blind girl to attempt and Amanda wouldn’t have it. She was grateful for the company however.

  The girls decided they would go the following Saturday—the day Simon had designated as the one when Ivy would finally give in to him and fall into his arms. Too bad she’d be away. Amanda felt bad about that, except that she knew Ivy was not going to give in so it was just as well.

  As she headed to the dining room for a cuppa the day before their trip she ran smack into Holmes. He oofed and pulled back abruptly, but not before she touched his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she said automatically.

  He coughed and said, “My fault.”

  She glanced up at him—up! She’d never had to do that before. He was huge! He looked so different she almost didn’t recognize him. His hair—what was that about? Dreadlocks? And he was so muscular—the spot she’d touched was so round and hard. She was sure he’d been different the day before. Not that she’d touched him then, of course, but looks-wise. Or had he? She’d been trying to avoid him so how would she even know?

  He moved to the right at the same time she moved to the left. He laughed awkwardly and moved left just as she moved right. He was different, all right, so wide and solid. As if he’d transformed overnight. It was a little scary.

  “Um, sorry,” he said. She could hear his discomfort in his voice.

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  She stood back and let him go around her. She could feel the air he displaced whoosh by her. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would blast through her chest. Forgetting all about the tea she ran to the common room and threw herself into a Louis XVI chair, which was hard and uncomfortable. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

  “What’s wrong?” said Ivy, who was sitting waiting for her.

  “OMG,” she gulped. “You wouldn’t believe Scapulus.”

  “What do you mean?” Ivy said. “Why are you panting?”

  Amanda leaned toward her. “You remember what Simon said about him acting weird? He’s gone crazy! He’s put his hair in dreads and he looks like a warrior. He’s gigantic! Where did those muscles come from?”

  “Muscles?” Ivy was aghast. “What muscles? You’ve never talked about Scapulus’s muscles before.”

  Amanda sat back and fanned herself. Her hair blew every which way. She couldn’t get the image of those biceps out of her mind. “That’s because he didn’t have any. You should see them.”

  “Sounds like something I’d like to feel,” Ivy said suggestively.

  “Yeah. So would I. I mean not really. Not his.”

  Ivy snickered. “Don’t worry. I know what you mean.”

  Amanda shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why is he doing this?”

  “What, getting muscles? He’s a guy.”

  “I know he’s a guy. I mean why—oh wow. I know what’s going on. He’s doing this because of me. Because I hurt him.”

  “Not necessarily.
Maybe he just wanted to try something new.”

  “Nuh uh. He’s trying to be a tough guy. He’s trying to be like Nick. And it’s because I hurt him. I did a terrible thing. I’m so ashamed.” She looked down at her feet.

  “You had feelings for him. You weren’t pretending.”

  “Yes, I did. Sometimes I still do. But I shouldn’t have acted on them. It wasn’t fair to him. I need to pay for hurting him. I need to atone.”

  “There’s nothing you can do. The best thing is to leave him alone. He’ll get over it.”

  Amanda shook her head again. “That isn’t enough. There’s only one way to fix this. I have to stop loving Nick.”

  “What, and go back to Scapulus? That isn’t a good idea.”

  “No,” said Amanda. “I would never do that. I need to suffer. Don’t you see? It’s the only way.”

  Despite Ivy’s repeated and fervent attempts to dissuade her, Amanda resolved that she was going to stop loving Nick. Nothing less would do. She would have to give up not just his presence in her life, such as it was, but every thought of him: his dazzling smile, his sky blue eyes, the voice that could tame wild animals, the memory of his lips on hers. No longer would she bask in the knowledge that he loved her. She would have to act, think, and feel as if he never had—as if he’d never even existed. She would be the girl she’d been before coming to Legatum. Well, maybe not that girl. One who was less bossy and self-involved. But the one who had never loved a boy and didn’t care if she ever did.

  These lofty goals were easier stated than achieved. Despite her attempts to change the subject whenever he popped into her head, everything she switched to reminded her of him. Filmmaking, for example. She’d imagine a camera dollying across a scene she was planning, but who would be operating it? Nick. Or she would decide she was going to write a screenplay about smugglers and Nick would turn out to be the head of the ring. It got so bad that she couldn’t think about filmmaking at all, which really annoyed her as it was still her passion when she wasn’t sleuthing or fighting bad guys.