Fracture ns-3 Page 11

  Allie knew she was right but could she tell them? Could she do that to Eloise?

  Then she remembered that note stabbed into the wall.

  ‘It’s just that… I thought…’ Allie felt like a traitor, but she made herself continue. ‘I thought I saw something the other day. It’s probably nothing. But you should know.’

  A heavy silence fell as the three teachers stared at her. Raj was the first to speak. ‘What did you think you saw?’

  The glare of their attention unnerved her and she twisted the hem of her jumper around her finger tight enough to hurt.

  ‘It was just… Eloise.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Isabelle had gone very still. ‘What about Eloise?’

  Isabelle and the librarian were friends; surely she’d given her a key. This was all a horrible mistake, Allie thought with a hot surge of panic. She had no evidence. She couldn’t just go around accusing people of murder.

  But she was in it too far now. She had to explain.

  ‘I was looking for you after class.’ She turned to the headmistress. ‘You were in London but I didn’t know so I waited outside your office for ages. Then… Eloise was in there… I think… the whole time but she didn’t answer the door. I just saw her come out. It’s probably, like… nothing. But when she saw me, she acted weird – she was all sweaty and she looked kind of… scared. She had a key.’ She looked at Isabelle hopefully. ‘Was she supposed to be there for a… thing?’

  Isabelle and Raj exchanged a long look.

  ‘There are a lot of possible explanations…’ Isabelle cautioned.

  ‘Of course. And she can tell us what those are.’ Raj’s voice was low and velvety, like a cat purring at the sight of a bird landing on the ground.

  This was the opposite of everything Allie had hoped for. Goosebumps formed an icy trail down her spine.

  Oh, God – what have I done?

  For a long moment the headmistress held his gaze as if she were deciding. Then she nodded, just once.

  Without another word, he sprang to his feet, crossing the room in a few long steps. Zelazny followed him out of the room.

  When they’d gone, Isabelle stared at the closed door blankly. A heavy silence fell over the room.

  Allie tried to think of something to say but the headmistress seemed to have forgotten she was there.

  ‘Maybe I should…’

  She half rose from her chair but Isabelle motioned for her to stay. Her face had turned pink, as if she held back tears.

  Guilt made Allie’s skin crawl – this was her fault for telling them what she’d seen.

  Why did I have to see it? she thought angrily. Couldn’t somebody else have been the one outside her office that day?

  ‘I’m sure she’ll have a good explanation,’ Allie said.

  Isabelle’s golden brown eyes shone with repressed pain. ‘I’ve known Eloise all her life. I simply do not believe she could be the mole.’ Sounding shaky but determined, she repeated her words. ‘I cannot believe it. There has to be something else, Allie. Something we’ve missed.’ Grabbing a piece of paper she picked up her pen. When she looked up again her expression was resolute. ‘So let’s go over this again. From the beginning.’

  It was nearly dawn by the time Allie climbed into bed. By then she was exhausted. But she couldn’t sleep.

  Her memory kept replaying the moment when Eloise had found out how much trouble she was in.

  When she’d returned to the school building, Isabelle had gone to meet her, ordering Allie to stay in her office. But she left the door open. So Allie had heard Eloise’s cheerful voice saying, ‘I got your message. What’s up?’

  It was Raj who replied, but Allie couldn’t make out his words. Whatever it was it had upset Eloise, whose panic was clear.

  ‘What? No. That’s ridiculous.’ Then a moment later: ‘Isabelle, please. Don’t let them do this.’

  Allie had reached the hallway in time to see them march the librarian away like a prisoner, Zelazny on one side, Raj on the other.

  At the sight, her stomach flipped – she knew just what that felt like.

  Giving up on sleep, she kicked off the covers and climbed on to the top of her desk to throw open the arched window. Closing her eyes she let the cold fresh air wash over her.

  If only there was somebody to talk to about this. Last term, she’d be climbing out of the window right now and running across to the boys’ side of the building to slip through Carter’s window and tell him everything.

  She looked longingly at the sturdy ledge beneath the window frame. Then she shook her head and looked away. Those days were over.

  But who else was there to talk to? Rachel wasn’t in Night School, so she couldn’t really talk to her about it. Zoe was only thirteen and, although she was freakishly smart, she was just a kid.

  The chill had begun to seep into her bones and she was closing the window when someone tapped lightly at her door.

  Frowning, Allie glanced at the alarm clock beside her.

  Half five in the morning. Who would be knocking at this hour?

  When she opened the door, Nicole stood on the other side. In her dark blue pyjamas and thick, white dressing gown, she looked uncharacteristically imperfect – her long, dark hair was dishevelled and she wore no makeup; Allie could see a red map of tiny pimples scattered across one cheek.

  So Nicole was human, too, behind her façade of perfection.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the French girl said, blithely unaware of the intense scrutiny she was under at that moment. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe you might be up, too.’

  ‘Totally.’ Allie stepped back to let her in. ‘I’m glad it’s not just me.’

  ‘Well. It was a strange night.’ Nicole’s tone was wry. Without waiting to be asked, she sat on the end of the bed, pulled the blanket off the footboard and draped it across her legs.

  ‘It’s colder in here than in my room,’ she observed.

  Allie admired her confidence; she seemed to just take charge of the situation wherever she was, and to feel comfortable no matter what she was doing.

  Climbing back into bed, Allie pulled the covers up against the chill that still pervaded the room after she’d closed the window.

  ‘After you left, Zelazny and Jerry Cole came to talk to us.’ Nicole spoke quietly. ‘They asked so many questions, but they wouldn’t tell us where you were. It was so stupid – like they’re playing war games again, you know?’

  Allie nodded. She hated when things went wrong and the teachers acted like Cimmeria Academy was MI5 or something.

  ‘Did they… did they mention Eloise?’ Allie spoke hesitantly.

  Nicole’s huge dark eyes shot up to meet hers. ‘They asked us about her a lot. Is she in trouble? I was very confused by that.’ Her delicate brow furrowed.

  For a second, Allie paused, unsure of how much to reveal. But Nicole was a senior Night School student so she’d find out soon enough.

  ‘They think she’s Nathaniel’s spy.’

  Although her voice was just above a whisper, her words seem to hang in the air, like the reverberations of a bell.

  At first, Nicole was too shocked to respond. Then she gasped in dismay. ‘Oh no – but that’s ridiculous.’ She muttered something in angry French. ‘Why do they think this? I don’t understand.’

  Heat flooded Allie’s face; she dropped her eyes. ‘It’s my fault,’ she confessed. ‘I… saw something and I told them. Then they freaked.’

  To her surprise, Nicole took this remarkably well. ‘What did you see?’

  Allie told her about Isabelle’s office, Eloise and the key.

  When she’d finished, Nicole frowned with thought. ‘That is strange. I don’t understand why…’ She glanced up at Allie. ‘Isabelle said there was no reason for her to be there?’

  Allie gave glum assent.

  ‘Oh no.’ Nicole slumped back against the wall. ‘This is terrible. It can’t be her. I don’t want it to be Eloise.’

&nb
sp; ‘That’s what I thought but then… I don’t know. It looks bad,’ Allie said.

  ‘Wait.’ Straightening, Nicole tapped a pale pink nail against her chin thoughtfully. ‘Let’s think this over.’

  Burying her face in her hands, Allie groaned. ‘Do we have to? Isabelle and I talked about it for hours. We found nothing to help Eloise.’

  But Nicole was not dissuaded. ‘I have had a thought. You say she was sweaty? And seemed nervous?’

  Allie nodded.

  Nicole absorbed this before asking, ‘Was her hair… what’s the English term… rumpled? Like bed hair?’

  Allie was baffled – how could that help?

  She gave a puzzled shrug. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  ‘Did you see anyone else come out of the office? Any other teachers?’

  Curious, Allie shook her head. ‘No. But I left right after that.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Staring off across the room, Nicole rested her chin on her hand. ‘It could be.’

  ‘Could be what?’

  Nicole blinked at her. ‘It could be that Eloise isn’t a spy. It could be that she was in there with Jerry having sex.’

  There is no way I heard that right.

  ‘What?’ Allie gaped at her. ‘Are you saying Eloise and Jerry Cole are…’

  Nicole nodded. ‘Shagging, as you English say. Yes.’

  Allie couldn’t seem to get her mouth to shut. The very idea of the librarian and the science teacher having sex was repulsive. Why would Eloise, so young and pretty, want a man so old? He had to be at least… nearly forty.

  Trying to imagine what the librarian saw in him, she had a sudden memory of Jo staring at him dreamily – she’d always had a crush on Jerry.

  But still. Eloise wouldn’t. She could have anyone.

  ‘I think that’s rubbish,’ she announced. ‘There’s no way Eloise would want him.’

  Nicole seemed surprised. ‘Why not? I think he’s quite handsome. He has a great body.’

  ‘Jerry?’ Allie stared at her in horror. ‘He’s an old man, Nicole. You can’t think he has a good body. That’s just… gross.’

  ‘Oh, you English girls are so naive.’ Nicole sighed. ‘Jerry is very good-looking, I assure you. And I know they are having an affair. That much is certain.’

  ‘How do you even know that?’ Allie tried to disguise her dismay but failed.

  ‘I think the question is how do you not know? Haven’t you seen the way they look at each other? They liked each other for ages and they got together last term. I kept seeing them going off into the woods together. Once I caught them kissing in the training room before the others arrived… I thought everyone knew.’ She shrugged carelessly. ‘They are in love.’

  Allie tried to force herself to process this information.

  ‘OK, but even if they are together – which I am not OK with – how did they get in Isabelle’s office? And why would they go in there to… to shag? Why wouldn’t they just do it in their rooms?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Nicole conceded. ‘But teachers aren’t allowed to date and sex is totally forbidden. So… maybe they got the key somehow and, knowing Isabelle was away for the day, they went in there because it is private. I mean, I don’t know, this is just an idea.’ She looked up at Allie with a thoughtful expression, as if she were working out a complex homework problem. ‘It is a small office but there is space in there enough for two people to make love, non?’

  Allie wrinkled her nose. This is grim, grim, grim.

  ‘It’s possible, I guess. But if that’s what she was doing, wouldn’t she just tell them? Then Jerry would back her up and they would let her go.’

  ‘If she tells them she and Jerry are having a relationship they will both get fired. So she could be protecting him. Or she could have told them and – but this is inhuman – he could deny it to protect himself.’ Nicole’s expression grew serious. ‘Or it is possible Raj and Zelazny simply don’t believe them.’

  Allie held her gaze. ‘What do you believe? Do you think Eloise is working for Nathaniel? Do you think she’s the one?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Nicole’s response was immediate and emphatic.

  Until she’d asked the question, Allie hadn’t realised how much, on some level, she’d hoped it really was Eloise. Even though it would be awful, at least they’d have answers. The hunt would be over. And that was something.

  But in her heart, she didn’t think it was Eloise either. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t fit.

  Despair, black as a storm cloud, swept over her. She was so tired, and they’d tried so hard. All for nothing.

  Nathaniel was still out there. The wrong person was being held against her will. The spy was still around, still threatening, still unknown. Nothing was better. Everything was just as bad as it had been before. If not worse.

  She looked up at Nicole with empty eyes. ‘Then who is?’

  For a long moment Nicole held her gaze then, as if she’d had a sudden idea, she sat up straight. ‘Let’s work this out. Could I have a piece of paper, please?’

  Climbing out of bed, Allie grabbed a notepad and pens from her desk and handed them to her. Nicole was, like Rachel, an advanced science student. It made sense she’d want to look at this as if it were a complex equation.

  ‘Let’s just stick to the actual attacks.’ Nicole drew a few squares on the paper. In one she wrote, ‘Ruth’. In the next, ‘Jo’. And in the last, ‘Chapel’.

  ‘Now.’ She thumped the end of the pen against the paper. ‘Where were we all when Ruth was killed?’

  Painstakingly they pieced together the whereabouts of the Night School students and teachers the night of the summer ball, making a list of who was accounted for and who was missing. Then they did the same thing for the night of Jo’s death. Who had they actually seen at the precise time the gate was opened and she was stabbed? And then they did it again with last night’s incident. Nicole diagrammed out a list of names in small rectangular squares, drawing lines – straight and unerring – to those whose locations were not known.

  Before long, Allie realised Nicole was looking for a pattern. Yes, someone from outside may have got in as well, but someone inside the school had to give them the key, open a lock, release the gate. Help them. And that’s what they were looking for. A person consistently missing whenever anything happened.

  When they’d finished, for a moment they both stared at the page in solemn silence.

  With a fingertip, Allie traced the dark lines leading to a handful of boxes, each one holding a familiar name. Each line as slender as the strands of trust she’d built for these people.

  But everything built can be destroyed.

  ‘It’s one of them, then,’ she said.

  Nicole nodded, her dark eyes serious. ‘It’s one of them.’

  Allie stared at the incriminating paper in front of them then raised her gaze to meet Nicole’s.

  ‘What do we do now?’

  FOURTEEN

  It was nearly nine by the time Nicole left Allie’s room that morning, and by then they had a plan. It was basic but it was better than nothing.

  The first step was to put together a team to help them.

  They’d agreed that everyone chosen to be part of the plan had to be approved by both of them but, in the end, it wasn’t hard to decide who to include.

  Now they just had to convince them all to help.

  Allie dressed quickly and hurried out. The hallways were quiet; it was Saturday – most students would be playing games or lazing around chatting. Some would be out in the cold kicking a football around. A low rumble of voices and laughter tumbled through the open common-room door.

  For a fleeting, melancholy moment, Allie missed normal student life. It would be so good to be someone else for a while.

  She broke into a jog, speeding down the wide hallway to the library.

  Walking through the library door was like entering a different school. A hospital hush hung over the room. Thick Persian rugs absorbed sound
below while, above, high ceilings made small noises disappear. The effect was as if the room was wrapped in cotton wool.

  The acrid scent of smoke from last summer’s fire had long since dissipated; now the room smelled only of old leather books, nineteenth-century ink and wood polish.

  All the bookcases looked identical but she knew that many of those at the front of the room were replicas, made precisely like the original shelves that towered into the dimness above her head. Even the new rolling ladders were identical to the originals.

  In fact, every bit of physical damage Nathaniel had done to the building had been repaired; Allie knew she should find that comforting. But right now nothing made her feel any better.

  When she noticed a slim, bespectacled man in Eloise’s usual seat, her stomach tightened. It seemed so callous just to replace her as if she was already found guilty. As if she was disposable.

  As she walked up to the desk, she recognised him as one of the lower-form English teachers, and she fought to quell her temper. It wasn’t his fault. Probably.

  Still, she had to challenge him. She wanted to see if he would lie to her face.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Do you know where Eloise is?’

  He set down the cards he’d been filing – the look on his face told her that, while she might not remember his name, he knew precisely who she was.

  ‘I’m afraid she’s in meetings,’ he said with impeccable politeness. ‘All weekend.’

  The combination of his lies and good manners set her nerves on edge. He must know precisely where Eloise was and what she was going through but he didn’t care at all.

  What a wanker.

  ‘Awesome,’ she said coldly. ‘I was afraid something bad might have happened to her.’

  Without waiting for his reaction she spun on her heel and hurried to a dim section at the edge of the room. Rachel was right where she’d known she’d be. Glasses on the end of her nose, long hair twisted into a messy knot at the base of her neck and held in place with a pencil, one end of which pointed up like an antenna.

  She’d been surprised by the ease with which Nicole accepted her request to include Rachel. Since she wasn’t in Night School, she’d expected some objections.