The Chrysalid Conspiracy (11 page)

“This is all very strange,” said Amelia as she met up with Rayn in the entrance hall.

“What’s going on?” asked Rayn. “You look awful.”

Amelia looked out of the big glass doors of the school. “I need some air,” she said. “Let’s grab some of that sunshine for a few minutes.”

They went outside and stood on the steps where several other people clustered together in the late autumn sunshine.

“It’s a bit nippy,” said Rayn.

“Yeah,” answered Amelia. “Let’s walk.” They turned right and walked along the tarmac path that surrounded the square and ungainly building. When they were out of hearing range of the others Amelia stopped and leaned against the railings, which were topped with Victorian ornamental spikes, installed to protect the border of shrubs and bushes but mainly to prevent the pupils using the ground floor windows as quick exits.

Amelia explained the events of the last half an hour. “You think the professor was drunk then?” asked Rayn in amazement.

“I’m pretty sure,” said Amelia. “I’ve seen Mum and Granddad after they’ve knocked back a few. That’s all I’ve got to compare it to.”

“It’s a bit early in the day, isn’t it?”

“That’s not really the point, Rayn. It was his reaction when I told him about the missing book. He just seemed to collapse inwards.”

“That’s very weird. And he really told you to be careful? Careful of what, do you think?”

“No idea,” said Amelia, “but he told me that the book I have is the only one, And I mustn’t tell anyone I have it”

“Wow, that’s a terrible burden to place on a pair of fourteen-year-old gossips like us. What do you think it all means?” asked Rayn.

“It beats me. We’d better go in now.” but as they turned back toward the steps Amelia stopped. She glanced up at an open window. It was the music department and she could hear the clear sound of someone playing a cello. The long sustained sound reverberated in her head.

“Come on Amelia. We’ll be in trouble ag…” Rayn’s voice trailed off as she glanced at her friend’s colourless face. “What’s up?”

Amelia put a finger to her lips, motioning Rayn to stay silent, and she waited. She waited for something she knew was going to be horrible.

She was already moving when the sound of shattering glass broke the silence. It came from the other end of the building, round the side out of sight. Amelia was moving so fast Rayn couldn’t catch up with her, even though she was a healthy sprinter. As she turned the corner the first thing she saw was Amelia crouched down on one knee on the rough path, she looked like an animal about to explode into action, her head bent back as if sniffing the air for a scent. The next thing she saw made her scream, really scream. Fear, horror, shock, disbelief, all expressed in one long, gut-wrenching sound. She fell backwards, onto the path, and threw up in great heaving gasps. She was trying to breathe and continued to scream while she vomited her enforced breakfast.

Professor Melkins was dead. He’d fallen three storeys and had been impaled on the railings right in front of them. They were looking at the bits and pieces of anatomy that only butchers and doctors should see. Amelia and Rayn had reached the scene at the point of impact and had taken the full brunt of the initial blood splatter. The Headmaster’s internal organs were now slipping down the railings and staining the ground a rusty brown.

Amelia, seemingly totally unaware of anything but the moment sensed a presence above her, not a predator though, and she relaxed and rose to her feet. She took in the scene – shards of coloured glass, twisted strips of lead, plastic flowers, a smashed coffee table, the Headmaster’s torn and twisted body still trembling and twitching, and a lot of blood.

As she looked at the professor’s mangled body hanging on the railings, it never occurred to her to ask why she was so calm and alert in the midst of this most appalling spectacle.

By now others had arrived and, amid the screams and vomiting, she helped Rayn to her feet and guided her back to the main entrance. They made their way to the girl’s toilets and cleaned themselves up as best they could. The girls already in there became desperate not to get involved, and seeing the staff’s pet targets covered in blood decided it was a good time not to be there. As Amelia washed blood off her shoes Rayn wiped down her jacket and skirt. She was still in shock but had stopped her involuntary retching and was trying to pull herself together.

“Go down to the infirmary, Rayn. There’s something I have to do.”

“Amelia. What’s going on? Why are you so calm?” Rayn wailed.

“I don’t know - I really don’t know,” answered Amelia, adding to Rayn’s confusion.

As she waited for Rayn to disappeared Amelia thought about the sequence of events. This was a distinct ‘before’, and it didn’t exactly creep up on her. The after was going to be difficult to handle but the marker was one hell of a hole in her reality. She sighed and then made her way to the library noticing that the news was spreading quickly, with varying degrees of response from tears to outright cheering.

Miss Collins was sitting in a chair, her foot propped up on a stool. She looked a solitary, broken figure. Her eyes, reddened with tears, were empty. Jenny the librarian was trying to massage her foot and comfort her but was running out of clichés and struggling.

“Miss Collins,” Amelia said quietly.

Miss Collins looked up. Her eyes focused and she looked directly at Amelia. “Jenny, can we have a moment, please?” The girl left, grateful for the reprieve.

“Amelia,” Miss Collins said, when they were alone. “We don’t have much time. No, don’t speak, just listen. You must not, under any circumstances, tell anybody about the Professor’s book. No one must know you have it.”

“What? What’s this got to do with…”

“Please, promise me,” Miss Collins talked over her objections. “It’s why the professor put it in your locker himself. He doesn’t…” she stopped and corrected herself. “He didn’t want anyone to know you have it.”

“But Rayn Mgee knows,” cut in Amelia.

“That’s okay,” Miss Collins continued. “You can trust her, and her mother. They may be the only ones you can.”

“What do you mean? The only ones…”

“Oh Amelia,” Miss Collins talked over her again. “There are things I can’t tell you, and you and your mother may be our last hope.”

“What on earth…” Amelia didn’t get the chance to finish as they heard footsteps running along the corridor.

“Quickly, He left this letter in my pigeon hole just before…Oh. It has your name on it, take it and go now Amelia. And please, be very careful, trust no one.” finished Miss Collins.

Amelia walked out of the library. She felt as though she hadn’t taken a breath since she’d seen the Professor’s body hanging on the railings.

Rayn was fully recovered by the time Amelia got back to the infirmary and was bursting with questions. Amelia whispered to her.

“Not now, not here,” was all she’d say. Rayn had to settle for that, but it was the first time Amelia had seen her without that impish look of mischief in her eyes. It worried her. She hoped this ‘emotional hand grenade’ wasn’t some kind of ‘rite of passage’ to adulthood.

Standing on the steps in the watery sunlight they noticed most of the kids had left, thankful for an unexpected day off. The first of the police cars and vans had arrived and were parked on the grass. Rayn shuddered at the thought of what they had to do.

“Miss Jaxson. Mgee.” Miss Collins voice reached them from inside the building. Apart from a limp, Miss Collins seemed to have recovered from her initial shock, although her face was drawn and showing the footprints of the emotion she was going through. “Ah, there you are,” she said to them. “These gentlemen would like to ask you some questions.”

Three men smiled at them. The younger one was in police uniform and seemed to be enjoying the situation. The older one was in a well-worn suit. He had grey hair, a face that told the world he’d ‘seen it all before’ and looked very bored.

The third man was very familiar; Tall, black suit, white collar – it was the vicar of Tetherington. The Reverend West.

Amelia was trying to understand what a Protestant vicar would be doing in the heart of this autonomous Catholic domain, but her mind felt as if it were in a tumble drier; tangled, emotionally dry and completely disorientated.

“Miss Collins tells me you were first on the scene,” the older man spoke to Rayn. He offered no introductions or showed any identification. Rayn’s back was up already. She was familiar with the routine.

“No,” she said simply.

“You got there before me, Rayn. Don’t you remember?” interrupted Amelia.

“No,” repeated Rayn, and remained silent. But she felt a delicious wickedness at this involvement in obvious deception. It would have been nicer if she knew what the devil was going on.

“Would you like to tell me what you saw?” enquired the police officer.

“No,” said Rayn again, hoping that Amelia would bail her out.

“Oh, why is that then?” he asked, sounding as if he had better things to do.

Rayn, not knowing what was happening, was unable to respond. Amelia bailed her out. “I’m sorry sir, but you’ve seen it. Do you really need a second opinion? We are, after all, only children.”

A flicker of interest crossed the inspector’s face. He gave an ‘almost’ smile and sighed. The uniformed policeman was scribbling in his notebook while unsuccessfully trying to stop the grin that was breaking out on his face.

The inspector turned to Amelia. “I’m also told you were the last one to see him alive,” he said to her.

“Was I? I don’t know.” Amelia was trying to reassemble her mind and was searching for any mental ammunition she may need.

“Yet you were also one of the first on the scene. How do you account for that?” The inspector looked straight into her eyes. Amelia felt out on a limb – a long way out. She hesitated and Rayn roared in.

“Account for it? We were too busy throwing up!” she spoke sharply. “Look at the mess we’re in, and we’re not answering any more questions till our parents get here.”

Amelia knew that Rayn had a deep-rooted mistrust of authority, especially policemen. The inspector, showing nothing more than a passing nod to Rayn’s outburst, continued speaking to Amelia.

“One last question. Why did you go outside when you came down from the Professor’s office?”

“Why, Inspector?” said Amelia, putting on her most innocent of faces. “We wanted to enjoy a few moments of God’s panorama of sunshine and scenery.”

Miss Collins gave a loud choking cough and turned away, her shoulders shaking with partially concealed laughter. The young policeman made a bolt for the door, muttering some excuse, and the inspector gave up on the grounds that he had never heard that one before.

Unfortunately, the vicar believed her. He stepped forward and, cupping Amelia’s hands in his own looked down at her.

“Amelia, I hope you are all right,” he said earnestly. “But don’t worry; we’ll get through this, together. If there’s anything you want to tell me, I’m here to listen.”

Amelia looked up at him, her face serene. “Thank you so much, Vicar,” she replied sweetly, but that nagging ‘something’ in her mind told her she was being intellectually hunted, and that there could be no mercy, either shown or expected.

This is stupid,
she thought.
This man is a member of the church. True to his beliefs.
It made her wonder just what his beliefs were.

“It looks as though your bus has left without you,” said Miss Collins, back in control of herself.

“That’s all right,” the vicar smiled. “I came to pick up my children. I’ll give them a lift home, not to worry.”

Rayn jumped on this like a pit bull terrier, partly to help Amelia, who was fading fast. “That’s strange,” she said to him. “How come a Protestant vicar has his children in a Catholic school?” Her face dared him to answer without opening a can of bigotry.

“You must be Rayn,” he replied. “I met your mother at the weekend – in the flower shop?” He eyed her, smooth and cold as ice. “Was that you I heard from the kitchen?”

Rayn rode the wave, recognising an adversary who was used to winning. “Yes, it was.” She was unruffled by his question and wasn’t going to be side-tracked by this clumsy ploy. “So, what are your kids doing here?”

The vicar leaned toward her, emphasising his social advantage, and gave the girls a condescending smile, the type that game show hosts reserve for the losers.

“My girls don’t attend St Margaret’s,” he said. “They come over here on Mondays for a music lesson, which Miss Collins has graciously allowed. After all, if music is God’s gift, should it not be enjoyed free of prejudice?”

Rayn knew that this question required no answer. It was a full stop. The final word. End of conversation, crafted to perfection.

Rayn looked at Amelia for some help but she was looking away, through the glass entrance doors. The inspector and his sidekick were standing on the lawn talking. Next to them was what held Amelia’s attention. A transit van was being unloaded by a heavenly vision.

Miss Collins hobbled off. “Thank you, Vicar,” she said, over her shoulder.

“If you girls wait here, I’ll collect my girls and drop you off at home,” said the vicar, making his way up the wide staircase.

“Miss Collins, may I have a word?” Her shoulders slumped at his request.

Before Rayn could say anything Amelia was gone. She’d run through the open doors, down the steps and thrown herself into the arms of the dishy workman. “Oh great!” muttered Rayn. “She even gets the guy.”

***

Rayn stood on the top step and looked out. There were more police cars and several vans on the lawn. She saw one that had a TV aerial and was obviously a local news van. The inspector and the police officer had left, but there were several police types rushing around trying to look busy. There was an ambulance with a very queasy-looking paramedic sitting on the back step.

The sky had developed a haze that the sun was finding hard to penetrate. When it finally did, there was no warmth and Rayn felt the chill complementing the mood of the drama. Right in front of her, centre stage, so to speak, her best friend was sobbing her heart out in the arms of the most gorgeous creature she’d ever seen. By the sketchy description Amelia had given her she assumed it was Nigel. At least, she hoped this was her future P.E. instructor. A vision of him in shorts and vest flirted with her imagination.