Half Moon Investigations - Eoin Colfer [58]
‘April is mad,’ she said simply. ‘So I snuck back to let you out.’
I squinted at her. ‘Did you pull back that bolt yourself or did an invisible force help you?’
May looked at me in a way that made me realize how daft that question sounded.
‘I pulled it back,’ she said. ‘Maybe April is right after all. Maybe all boys are stupid and smelly. You look terrible, by the way. Your head is too big for your body. I know another boy like that.’
I grabbed the horn. ‘I have a big head because of all the brains in there. I magnetized this horn, didn’t I?’
May took the horn and placed it against the cellar’s metal wall. It didn’t stick, not even for a second.
Clang.
‘Possibly I should have tried that,’ I said, mortified to be out-thought by a ten-year-old.
May turned to Red, who was obviously the sane one.
‘You and your partner better hurry if you want to save Herod. April has talked her dad into going over to Principal Quinn’s. They’re on the way right now.’
Red was off like a greyhound after a rabbit.
‘Thanks,’ I muttered. ‘And keep an open mind on the magnetism thing. You never know, it might have been a factor.’
I ran after Red, May’s mocking laughter ringing in my ears.
Mrs Quinn lived in a townhouse near Lock’s railway station. She came from a long line of teachers but was the first one to have reached the exalted status of headmistress. Mrs Quinn credited this to her people skills, no-nonsense approach to discipline and having the local chief inspector for a husband.
By the time Red and I arrived on the bike, the Devereux four-wheel drive was already parked in the driveway. Even worse, there was a police car parked in front of it.
Red skidded to a halt, resting his elbows on the handlebars.
‘Too late,’ he said between puffs. ‘Mrs Quinn has already called in the cavalry.’
I agreed. ‘I’m sure April’s father insisted on it. Herod is being accused of assault.’
We stashed the bike behind a neighbour’s wall and crept around the back, where Mrs Quinn was entertaining her guests on the patio. At least we could hear what was being said. We crawled across the garden on our bellies, hiding below the lip of the raised deck. I lifted my head just enough to spy on proceedings through the fence uprights.
April, Mercedes, Mr Devereux and Sergeant Murt Hourihan were seated round a pine patio table. Mrs Quinn was pouring tumblers of cloudy lemonade. April and Mercedes were back in pink mode.
‘I asked the girls to wait until you arrived, sergeant,’ said Mrs Quinn. ‘This is a serious matter, and Mr Devereux thought we needed a police presence. How do you like the lemonade?’
Murt had been trying to avoid drinking what was in his tumbler. He took a swig, and coughed most of it back into the glass.
‘Aagh, hurup,’ he spluttered. ‘God, that tastes like… I mean, oh, that went down the wrong way. Lovely, a bit tart, but lovely. Thanks.’
Mrs Quinn swilled the mixture around in the base of the jug. There were lumps floating in the hazy liquid.
‘Another drop, sergeant?’
‘Ah, no. I’m on duty. Anyway, I have a code forty-three dash seven waiting for me in the station, so if we could get on…’
I happen to know that a forty-three dash seven is a maternity-leave request form.
‘Of course, sergeant. Criminals never sleep, eh? Well, you know Mr Devereux?’
‘Evening, sir.’
‘Sergeant.’
‘Mr Devereux brought the girls over. It seems they were afraid to come to me during the day, in case Roddy Sharkey would see them.’
‘Red?’
‘No, his brother, Roddy. Herod, if you can believe it.’
Murt took out his notebook. ‘Oh, I can believe just about anything of Master Herod Sharkey. We’ve had words.’
‘His mind is already made up,’ whispered Red. ‘We have to go in there. Give ourselves up, tell Hourihan what really happened.’
I tugged Red’s sleeve. ‘Wait. That won’t help anyone.’
Red shrugged me off. ‘Maybe not. But I have to try. I promised.’
‘One minute,’ I said, desperately. ‘Give me a minute. If I don’t come up with something, then we’ll go in.’
Red settled back down reluctantly. ‘One minute. And I hope this plan is better than