The Beast of Seabourne (14 page)

She let the sentence hang. Outside, the noise of milling pupils slowly faded as first-lesson classrooms were found and seats taken. Oz waited, trying not to think about what this conversation would be like if a passer-by hadn't disturbed whoever attacked Skinner.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Miss Arkwright asked, her expression softening.

“What, miss?” Her question brought Oz back from his uncomfortable imaginings.

“Interviews are being held in Miss Swinson's office. Do you want me to come with you?”

The door opened behind Oz and a year seven's head popped in.

“Wait outside,” Miss Arkwright snapped.

The head disappeared.

“I know the way to Miss Swinson's, miss,” Oz said.

“I know you do, Oscar. I'm not worried that you'd lose your way.”

Oz blinked several times. It took a few seconds for him to realise what she was asking. In his first term at Seabourne County, he had been summoned to the Volcano's office after being accused of cheating in a maths exam by a misery-guts called Badger Breath Boggs. Miss Arkwright had gone with him for support. She'd been brilliant then. But there was no need this time, was there? He wasn't being accused of anything here. Or was her question a veiled way of asking if he had something to hide?

“No, miss. I'll be fine.”

“All right. But if you need me, just ask, and I'll come right away.” She smiled, but Oz couldn't find it within himself to return it.

He met a few stragglers dawdling on their way to lessons in the school corridors, but when he neared the admin block, a solid hush descended as the day's work began in earnest. Two gangly, bespectacled secretaries looked up from where they hunched over their desks. Neither said anything to him. A lurid image of large vultures guarding the entrance to an unearthly kingdom popped into his head. He shook it to clear his mind.

The Volcano's office was situated along a clean, freshly painted corridor and was two doors down from that of the headmaster—a tall, constantly grinning man always in a hurry, whom Oz had only seen half a dozen times in the whole of his time at Seabourne County. The same could not be said of the Volcano, who made it her business whenever possible to be seen and heard by as many transgressing pupils as possible.

When Oz reached the door with the sign
Miss V Swinson, Senior Mistress
in gold lettering upon it, he raised his hand to knock but hesitated. He could hear murmurs from within and the
chink
of mugs. A dull anxiety beat at his temples, and he suddenly wished he'd taken Hippie Arkwright up on her offer. He told himself he was just being stupid. He hadn't done anything wrong, and he had nothing to worry about. Okay, having your wisdom teeth out without anaesthetic was probably a more pleasant way to spend a morning than being interviewed by the Volcano was, but so what? Her bark was a hundred times worse than her bite, or so he'd heard. And what was the worst that could happen? As far as he knew, the Volcano had never killed anyone…yet.

Oz rapped three times. The murmuring stopped, and he heard the Volcano shout, “Come.”

Oz opened the door and stepped inside a room that was more like someone's lounge than a school office. There were at least three vases full of flowers giving off a strong smell of roses, and the walls were a pleasant burnt-yellow colour. Two huge posters of exotic tropical islands covered one wall. Three big grey filing cabinets occupied another wall, and in the centre stood an enormous desk, with a neat pile of paper behind three potted plants, one of which was the biggest cactus Oz had ever seen.

The Volcano, wearing a magenta silk blouse, bristled behind the desk as he walked in. He took in two other people, both sitting on uncomfortable plastic school chairs. They both wore police uniforms and clutched mugs bearing silly messages: “Welcome to Torremolino's” and “World's Best Auntie.”

“Chambers, this is Sergeant Thomas and WPC Keller from Seabourne constabulary.”

“Yes, I know,” Oz said. “We've met before.”

Sgt Thomas and WPC Keller had been to Oz's house to talk to him about the burglary at Garret and Eldred's over a year ago. They were getting to be old friends.

The Volcano gave a little start. “Really?” She sat down and added under her breath, “No surprises there, then.”

“Sorry, miss?” Oz said.

The Volcano cleared her throat. “Sergeant Thomas has asked if he could speak to some of our pupils regarding—”

“Kieron Skinner, yes, miss. Miss Arkwright told us.”

The Volcano stared at him and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Then you will know that this is a very serious matter. I need hardly tell you how badly this could reflect on the school if it turns out that another pupil is involved.”

Oz nodded.

The Volcano, as usual, wore a large dangling metal necklace, which looked an awful lot like something a mayor might wear. Oz often thought it was there to guarantee everyone knew how important she was. It clanked noisily on the desk as she thrust herself still farther forward.

“I had suggested to Sergeant Thomas that he let me speak to you first.” The words emerged from a hard, small mouth. “They prefer that I simply sit in.”

She threw the officers a glance that was full of disbelief and thinly disguised irritation. “However, if it turns out that you were responsible, if you were involved in any way with this heinous attack that has left one of our pupils…
hospitalised
, you can rest assured that my response will be swift and severe in the extreme. I want you to dwell on that when you answer Sergeant Thomas' questions, Chambers.”

She glared at Oz.

To his left, Oz heard Sergeant Thomas clear his throat.

“Nice to see a school showing such caring support for their pupils, Miss Swinson,” he said.

The Volcano's head snapped around, but there was nothing in Sergeant Thomas' face to suggest he was being anything other than complimentary, unless that strange twinkle that flashed in his eye could be taken as sarcasm.

“We try,” said the Volcano, puffing out her chest and brushing some imaginary dust off the edge of the desk. “Part of our mission statement is ‘pupils first.'”

WPC Keller let out a sort of strangled cough, put down her mug, and took out a notebook, while Sergeant Thomas turned to Oz.

“Now then, Oscar, have a seat.”

Oz looked around. There wasn't one. Sergeant Thomas turned back to the Volcano. “Could we arrange a seat for Oscar, Miss Swinson?”

“Seat?” the Volcano said as if he'd just asked for a bucket of pig's blood. “I usually get them to stand…”

“I think it would be best if we allowed Oscar to sit.”

She stared at him for another five seconds before getting up and bustling across to the door. She yanked it open, barked out some orders, and waited while one of the bespectacled secretaries brought in a plastic chair, upon which Oz finally sat. The Volcano went back to her desk. “Now, Oscar, how's your mother?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

“Fine, thanks,” Oz said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Volcano's nose wrinkle.

“So, yesterday you were at a five-a-side tournament with Kieron Skinner, I understand.”

“Yeah. Well, not actually with him. I mean he was there with the rest of the Skullers—uh, his team—but I was with the Lions.”

Keller scribbled.

“And you left at what time?”

“Ruff 's dad picked us up at about three, I think.”

“And after that?”

“I went home. Did my homework, watched some TV, and went to bed.”

Oz could see the Volcano fidgeting. It was clear she was having a great deal of difficulty keeping quiet and still.

“You won't mind if I give your mum a ring afterwards to confirm all of this?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

“Fine by me,” Oz said.

“But what about the hat?” the Volcano blurted out in a shrill voice. “Aren't you going to ask him about the hat?”

Keller stopped writing and slowly turned an irritated expression towards the Volcano. “Please be quiet,” she said in a calm but authoritative voice.

The Volcano looked like she'd just swallowed a snail. “But—”

Keller silenced her with another look. Sergeant Thomas sighed, reached into a leather bag, and took out a floppy, dark object inside a zipped plastic bag. Oz recognised the red diamond pattern weaving around it immediately.

“Do you recognise this, Oz?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

The Volcano smiled in triumph.

Oz stared at the plastic bag and felt his throat squeeze shut. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “It's my goalie hat. I lost it yesterday at the tournament.”

The Volcano let out a mangled snort that was about as full of doubt and scepticism as was possible without screaming “a likely story” out loud.

Keller didn't look up, but Oz saw her make slits of her eyelids and purse her lips.

“Have you any idea why or how this was found at the scene of the attack?”

Oz shook his head and let his eyes fall again to the bag and the hat inside it. “No, none.”

This was too much for the Volcano, who thrust herself to her feet. “Oh, come on.” She put both hands on the desk and leaned over it towards Oz, her bulging eyes even bulgier than normal. “We know you chased Skinner yesterday. We know you threatened to kill him. We know that he was taunting you. So, tell us how you got to where it happened. Bike? Cab? Bus? Tell us. Come on, how?”

Silence collapsed on the room. Oz was so totally surprised by this outburst that he completely forgot to swallow. It was Keller's turn to look as if something disgusting had just crawled into the room, but her eyes were on the Volcano. Sergeant Thomas, meanwhile, was looking calmly downwards and picking bits of lint off his trousers. The silence stretched out for so long that Oz felt he ought to say something.

“Skinner was being a pain yesterday, but then he always is.

To everyone, I mean. We were playing Skullers B—Kieron was watching from behind the goals, and well, he started throwing mud at me. I'd had enough by then. Both Skullers teams had been giving everyone argy-bargy all afternoon, and when he threw the mud, I…” Oz paused, looking around at the faces that were all looking at him keenly.

“Go on,” Sergeant Thomas urged.

“I lost it and chased him. I probably did say I'd kill him… along with a few other things. He thought it was great fun. That was when I lost my hat…”

“I see.” Sergeant Thomas nodded.

“This was in the middle of a game, so Skinner got away. Me, Ellie, and Ruff looked for my hat afterwards, but we never found it.”

The Volcano was still standing, looking from Oz to the policeman and back again. “Is it just me, or is that not the biggest load of hogwash ever to—”

“Sit down, Miss Swinson,” WPC Keller said with a quelling glare.

“But how can you listen to this drivel? It's obvious that the hat fell off as Chambers here was kicking seven bells out of poor Kieron Skinner—”

“If you can't sit down and be quiet, we will have to ask you to leave,” Keller said, very deliberately.

“Leave? My own office?” The Volcano let out a derisive cackle. “I don't think so.”

Keller wasn't laughing.

“Look, I lost it a bit yesterday, I admit,” Oz said before anyone else could speak. “But I don't know how my hat got to wherever Skinner was attacked. Unless he took it. That would have been a typical Skinner thing to do. But I didn't attack him. Why would I? I mean he's a pain, yes, but he's loads bigger than me. And I was at home all night. You can ask my mum.”

“Be sure that we will,” the Volcano said shrilly.

“Right, that's it. Out!” Keller ordered, standing up. She was half the size of the Volcano, but her finger was pointing resolutely at the door.

The Volcano drew herself up. “This is
my
office,” she said.

“And
we're
police officers. If you don't leave now, I'll arrest you for obstructing our enquiry.”

The Volcano flinched. “Arrest me?” Her voice had taken on a bemused, slightly hurt tone. “But I'm trying to help here. I know Chambers' sort. I know how sly and very devious they can be. I've had years of…”

“OUT,” Keller said. For a not very tall woman, she had a quite powerful voice, and one accustomed to ordering drunken people twice her size to behave or else. The force of it caused the Volcano to take an unsteady step back. But she did as she was told, avoiding any eye contact with Oz as she left the room, deliberately banging into things and slamming the door with all the dignity of a wounded hippo.

“Thank you, Constable Keller,” Sergeant Thomas said calmly. “Now Oz, have you any idea who might want to do something like this to Kieron?”

Oz thought. There were a dozen people who regularly threatened Skinner with death for being a pain; it was almost a daily occurrence. But they were just empty threats, childish catcalling in response to provocation. He couldn't think of anyone who'd want to do him any real harm. Oz shook his head.

“Okay, thank you. I will have to give your mother a quick ring just to tick a few boxes; you understand that, don't you?”

Oz shrugged and got up from the chair, but hesitated and looked at the policeman.

“Sergeant Thomas, what actually happened to Kieron? Was he beaten up?”

“Yes, and attacked with some sort of sharp instrument. It was too dark for the passer-by who disturbed the attacker to make anything out, though he claims he heard noises like an animal. Grunts and strange barks and whatnot, though many of the injuries are more in keeping with human fists and boots than claws and teeth. So, it doesn't all fit yet, unless the attacker had a dog with him, of course.” He offered Oz a smile. “Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this, I'm certain.”

“Is there anything else you want to say?” Keller asked in her abrupt way. “Just that I hope he's okay, that's all. I mean he's a pain and all that, but he doesn't deserve to be in a hospital.”