Murder Most Unladylike: A Wells and Wong Mystery by Robin Stevens Page B
Authors: Robin Stevens
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something we oughtn’t. It makes you awfully sick. It’s exactly what we need.’
I did not understand, and I was not in the mood to try. I was still cross. Why was Daisy’s idiotic idea more important than my perfectly good clue?
‘Don’t you see?’ asked Daisy, still chugging along on her own triumphant train of thought. ‘If we’re going to go hunting for clues about Miss Bell, we need to get into the school when we can snoop about without any of the mistresses or masters wondering what we’re up to – and more importantly, without the murderer noticing us. That means at night, and the easiest way to do that is to get admitted to San. If we take this we won’t need to pretend at all – we’ll be sick everywhere and Minny will have to keep us in San overnight. Then all we need to do is wait until she falls asleep and we can go wherever we like.’
‘But won’t everywhere be locked?’ I objected.
‘Not if I steal Jones’s spare keys, you chump,’ said Daisy.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘All right, I’ll do it. But only if you explain why Miss Hopkins and The One aren’t guilty of the murder.’
‘Because Miss Tennyson did it, of course,’ said Daisy. ‘Oh, I haven’t told you my findings from today yet, have I?’
‘No,’ I said furiously. ‘No, you haven’t.’
‘Well, she’s an absolute wreck. She might as well be wandering the corridors muttering, Out, damned spot ! I think our séance rumour has spooked her. While I was following her one of the Big Girls tapped her on the shoulder and she shrieked . But here’s the important bit: there I was, minding my own business in an opportune listening place on Library corridor, when Miss Griffin came up to Miss Tennyson. “Miss Tennyson,” she said, “I need to talk to you. You haven’t quite finished helping me with that little project of ours. You were so late to my office on Monday evening that we barely got a thing done.”
‘“Yes, but I made up for it on Tuesday and Wednesday,” said Miss Tennyson nervously.
‘“Ah, but not quite,” replied Miss Griffin. “There’s still a bit of work that needs to be finished.” Honestly, Hazel, Miss Tennyson went as white as a sheet. She was shaking . “Can we perhaps schedule another session?” asked Miss Griffin. “There’s just a little more work I’d like you to do – perhaps this evening?”’
‘So what?’ I asked. ‘Miss Tennyson and Miss Griffin are going to mark books together after school today. That doesn’t have anything to do with the murder.’
‘Hazel,’ said Daisy, rolling her eyes, ‘sometimes you are a bit stupid. Miss Griffin had an appointment with Miss Tennyson on Monday night, but Miss Tennyson was late . Miss Tennyson takes English Soc until five twenty, so the appointment must have been for after that – for exactly the time when Miss Bell was being murdered . And I’m sure the way Miss Tennyson behaved when Miss Griffin mentioned Monday was a sign. Hazel, it’s her guilty conscience! She must have done it!’
‘If you say so,’ I said. I was still annoyed. Here was Daisy again, sure that her idea was the important one.
‘Oh, Hazel, don’t be like that,’ said Daisy, butting her head against my shoulder and staring at me wide-eyed. ‘Hazel, Hazel, Hazel, Hazel, Hazel —’
‘Ow!’ I said, scowling. ‘I’m not smiling.’
‘Yes you are ,’ said Daisy, leaping up off the bed and grabbing hold of my arm. ‘Come on, come on, let’s go downstairs before Matron wonders where we’ve got to. Oh, and meet me in the cloakroom before French and we’ll take this disgusting stuff.’ She brandished the bottle of ipecac at me, stuffed it into her book bag and galloped out of the dorm.
9
Daisy can be really insufferable sometimes, but I suppose, given what happened on my first night at Deepdean, I shouldn’t be surprised.
After our first meeting on the games fields I came back to House, shivering and pink with cold, to the tall and
I did not understand, and I was not in the mood to try. I was still cross. Why was Daisy’s idiotic idea more important than my perfectly good clue?
‘Don’t you see?’ asked Daisy, still chugging along on her own triumphant train of thought. ‘If we’re going to go hunting for clues about Miss Bell, we need to get into the school when we can snoop about without any of the mistresses or masters wondering what we’re up to – and more importantly, without the murderer noticing us. That means at night, and the easiest way to do that is to get admitted to San. If we take this we won’t need to pretend at all – we’ll be sick everywhere and Minny will have to keep us in San overnight. Then all we need to do is wait until she falls asleep and we can go wherever we like.’
‘But won’t everywhere be locked?’ I objected.
‘Not if I steal Jones’s spare keys, you chump,’ said Daisy.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘All right, I’ll do it. But only if you explain why Miss Hopkins and The One aren’t guilty of the murder.’
‘Because Miss Tennyson did it, of course,’ said Daisy. ‘Oh, I haven’t told you my findings from today yet, have I?’
‘No,’ I said furiously. ‘No, you haven’t.’
‘Well, she’s an absolute wreck. She might as well be wandering the corridors muttering, Out, damned spot ! I think our séance rumour has spooked her. While I was following her one of the Big Girls tapped her on the shoulder and she shrieked . But here’s the important bit: there I was, minding my own business in an opportune listening place on Library corridor, when Miss Griffin came up to Miss Tennyson. “Miss Tennyson,” she said, “I need to talk to you. You haven’t quite finished helping me with that little project of ours. You were so late to my office on Monday evening that we barely got a thing done.”
‘“Yes, but I made up for it on Tuesday and Wednesday,” said Miss Tennyson nervously.
‘“Ah, but not quite,” replied Miss Griffin. “There’s still a bit of work that needs to be finished.” Honestly, Hazel, Miss Tennyson went as white as a sheet. She was shaking . “Can we perhaps schedule another session?” asked Miss Griffin. “There’s just a little more work I’d like you to do – perhaps this evening?”’
‘So what?’ I asked. ‘Miss Tennyson and Miss Griffin are going to mark books together after school today. That doesn’t have anything to do with the murder.’
‘Hazel,’ said Daisy, rolling her eyes, ‘sometimes you are a bit stupid. Miss Griffin had an appointment with Miss Tennyson on Monday night, but Miss Tennyson was late . Miss Tennyson takes English Soc until five twenty, so the appointment must have been for after that – for exactly the time when Miss Bell was being murdered . And I’m sure the way Miss Tennyson behaved when Miss Griffin mentioned Monday was a sign. Hazel, it’s her guilty conscience! She must have done it!’
‘If you say so,’ I said. I was still annoyed. Here was Daisy again, sure that her idea was the important one.
‘Oh, Hazel, don’t be like that,’ said Daisy, butting her head against my shoulder and staring at me wide-eyed. ‘Hazel, Hazel, Hazel, Hazel, Hazel —’
‘Ow!’ I said, scowling. ‘I’m not smiling.’
‘Yes you are ,’ said Daisy, leaping up off the bed and grabbing hold of my arm. ‘Come on, come on, let’s go downstairs before Matron wonders where we’ve got to. Oh, and meet me in the cloakroom before French and we’ll take this disgusting stuff.’ She brandished the bottle of ipecac at me, stuffed it into her book bag and galloped out of the dorm.
9
Daisy can be really insufferable sometimes, but I suppose, given what happened on my first night at Deepdean, I shouldn’t be surprised.
After our first meeting on the games fields I came back to House, shivering and pink with cold, to the tall and
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