know very well what I mean. The guinea pigs – where are they?”
“Not in their cage? Don’t tell me they tunnelled out? Well on their way to Switzerland now, I should guess, if their papers are in order.”
“I’m going to try one more time. If I get a similarly flippant answer, you are going to spend an hour in the sick bay with our friends Funt and Bosola, ably supported by as many other prefects as it takes to make sure that you are …
comfortable
. Do I make myself clear?”
“As the Pope’s conscience.”
“So, where are the guinea pigs?”
“I have no idea.”
It’s always easier to lie when you’re telling the truth. I genuinely didn’t know which part of Paine’s digestive tract Sniffy and Snuffy would have reached by now. Stomach? Small intestine? Large intestine? Who could say?
The Shank drilled a hole in my skull and had a quick look around. Then he glanced down at the papers on his desk.
“This morning I received a note suggesting that I would find something interesting in a certain locker. When I went to check, I found you adjacent to the locker in question, with a look on your face that exceeded even your generally high background level of guilt. Shortly afterwards, I was informed that the school guinea pigs were not in their cage. Despite your well-known
problems
, Middleton, I am told that you are not a stupid boy. So why don’t you use that brain of yours and tell me what deductions
you
would draw from those facts?”
It was my turn to pause. I tried to get everything straight, but the inside of my head was like a washing machine, with the animals, the people, the places churning in a mush of grey suds. By a huge effort of will, I made it stop, and sorted through the laundry.
“I’d say it was a set-up. Whoever nabbed the pigs tried to plant them on some patsy. A patsy with the initials J. M. But either they were too dumb to get it right, or the guys they put on the job were too dumb.”
“And why would anyone want to implicate you in this? You don’t think that smacks of paranoia?” The Shank’s tone softened a little and he added, “We’ve been here before, John.”
“Sure. The eternal recurrence.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just something someone said… But it’s not paranoia when they’re really trying to get you.”
Again the Shank bored into me. Again he found nothing but an empty space.
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, Middleton, but I know you’re at the heart of it. Turn your pockets out.”
“What, you think I’d be walking about with dead guinea pigs in my pockets?”
“Just do what I say.”
I flapped and slapped, showing the Shank I was clean. He didn’t notice the couple of white hairs that fluttered down to the carpet.
“Proves nothing,” he said. “You could have dumped the bodies anywhere.”
“That would be the smart move.”
The Shank rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked and sounded tired.
“Today is Wednesday. At 12 p.m. on Friday I will be holding an all-school assembly. If this situation has been cleared up by then, the purpose of the assembly will be to wish the Drama Club the very best of luck with the performances of
The Wizard of Oz
. If no resolution has occurred, then the school will hear that the performances, scheduled for the following Friday and Saturday nights, have been cancelled because of you. I derive no pleasure, no pleasure whatsoever, from this.”
“I bet,” I said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s supposed to mean that something stinks here. There’s something corrupt and rotten, and the rottenness goes down to the core.”
“Get out of here, Middleton.”
“I’m gone.”
As I was leaving I heard what sounded like a click. It was the Shank’s brain changing gear.
“Wait, dead. You said ‘dead’. How do you know the guinea pigs are dead?”
For once I was stumped. I cursed myself for being such a dumb-ass.
“Just a guess. Based on the
“Not in their cage? Don’t tell me they tunnelled out? Well on their way to Switzerland now, I should guess, if their papers are in order.”
“I’m going to try one more time. If I get a similarly flippant answer, you are going to spend an hour in the sick bay with our friends Funt and Bosola, ably supported by as many other prefects as it takes to make sure that you are …
comfortable
. Do I make myself clear?”
“As the Pope’s conscience.”
“So, where are the guinea pigs?”
“I have no idea.”
It’s always easier to lie when you’re telling the truth. I genuinely didn’t know which part of Paine’s digestive tract Sniffy and Snuffy would have reached by now. Stomach? Small intestine? Large intestine? Who could say?
The Shank drilled a hole in my skull and had a quick look around. Then he glanced down at the papers on his desk.
“This morning I received a note suggesting that I would find something interesting in a certain locker. When I went to check, I found you adjacent to the locker in question, with a look on your face that exceeded even your generally high background level of guilt. Shortly afterwards, I was informed that the school guinea pigs were not in their cage. Despite your well-known
problems
, Middleton, I am told that you are not a stupid boy. So why don’t you use that brain of yours and tell me what deductions
you
would draw from those facts?”
It was my turn to pause. I tried to get everything straight, but the inside of my head was like a washing machine, with the animals, the people, the places churning in a mush of grey suds. By a huge effort of will, I made it stop, and sorted through the laundry.
“I’d say it was a set-up. Whoever nabbed the pigs tried to plant them on some patsy. A patsy with the initials J. M. But either they were too dumb to get it right, or the guys they put on the job were too dumb.”
“And why would anyone want to implicate you in this? You don’t think that smacks of paranoia?” The Shank’s tone softened a little and he added, “We’ve been here before, John.”
“Sure. The eternal recurrence.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just something someone said… But it’s not paranoia when they’re really trying to get you.”
Again the Shank bored into me. Again he found nothing but an empty space.
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, Middleton, but I know you’re at the heart of it. Turn your pockets out.”
“What, you think I’d be walking about with dead guinea pigs in my pockets?”
“Just do what I say.”
I flapped and slapped, showing the Shank I was clean. He didn’t notice the couple of white hairs that fluttered down to the carpet.
“Proves nothing,” he said. “You could have dumped the bodies anywhere.”
“That would be the smart move.”
The Shank rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked and sounded tired.
“Today is Wednesday. At 12 p.m. on Friday I will be holding an all-school assembly. If this situation has been cleared up by then, the purpose of the assembly will be to wish the Drama Club the very best of luck with the performances of
The Wizard of Oz
. If no resolution has occurred, then the school will hear that the performances, scheduled for the following Friday and Saturday nights, have been cancelled because of you. I derive no pleasure, no pleasure whatsoever, from this.”
“I bet,” I said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s supposed to mean that something stinks here. There’s something corrupt and rotten, and the rottenness goes down to the core.”
“Get out of here, Middleton.”
“I’m gone.”
As I was leaving I heard what sounded like a click. It was the Shank’s brain changing gear.
“Wait, dead. You said ‘dead’. How do you know the guinea pigs are dead?”
For once I was stumped. I cursed myself for being such a dumb-ass.
“Just a guess. Based on the
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