Murder Most Unladylike: A Wells and Wong Mystery by Robin Stevens Read Free Book Online Page A

could not have even arrived in the Gym before 5.20, and that meant she must have been killed between 5.20 and 5.45.
    ‘Do you know,’ said Daisy to me, once Betsy had run off again, ‘detecting a murder is turning out to be rather easy. If we carry on like this we shall have solved it in no time.’
    I was not so sure. It seemed to me that we still had a great deal to discover. But I did agree that we seemed to be making a very good start, and soon we had even more information.
    A fourth former waiting about for confirmation study with Mr MacLean had seen Miss Bell go into the mistresses’ common room on Library corridor, just after lessons ended but before socs began, followed by Miss Parker. A few minutes later they had come out again – both looking frightfully cross, Miss Bell’s face icy and Miss Parker’s hair all spiky with rage (the fourth former’s words) – and marched away together towards an empty form room. This sounded very much like the beginnings of another spectacular argument. That it had taken place on the evening Miss Bell died was extremely suspicious.
    Then Felicity Carrington (a fifth former, who was dreadfully disappointed that she had nothing to say about Miss Bell) mentioned that she had seen Miss Lappet going into Miss Griffin’s office just after half past four, her glasses wobbling and her enormous bosom heaving, looking terribly upset about something. Daisy was very excited. ‘What if she was complaining about Miss Bell being given the Deputy job?’ she asked me in a low voice. ‘And then, if Miss Griffin refused to listen to her, what if she decided to take matters into her own hands ?’
    ‘Hmm,’ I said thoughtfully. We now knew that two more of our suspects had stayed at school after hours, and neither of them yet had any sort of alibi for the time of the murder. I noted it all down on our suspect list.

2
    Things began to look very black for Miss Parker. In Maths, Daisy began talking loudly about a favourite fountain pen that she must have lost somewhere in the corridors after Lit. Soc on Monday evening. ‘ You didn’t see it, did you?’ she asked Miss Parker.
    ‘You mustn’t be so careless with your possessions,’ Miss Parker told her crossly while she scribbled scarlet correction lines across her work. ‘You are a wickedly negligent girl sometimes. As it happens, I left school at the end of lessons on Monday, so I wouldn’t have come across it.’
    She turned to give Beanie a telling off (she was gnawing her plait and staring despairingly at a page so covered in scored out numbers it was almost solid blue), and I spun round to Daisy in excitement. Kitty, however, got there first. She nudged Daisy, grinning.
    ‘Gosh, what a filthy liar she is!’ she whispered, glancing carefully over at Miss Parker, who was now shouting at Beanie. ‘What she said about leaving at the end of school’s a load of tosh. I saw her when I was walking back towards Library corridor after Cultural Soc ended. She was sitting in one of the empty form rooms, her face all angry scarlet. And her hair was in such a state! I’d bet anything that she and Miss Bell had been arguing again— I say! I wonder if she’s a secret agent for this Russian crime ring that’s kidnapped Miss Bell! Wouldn’t that be exciting?’
    ‘Hum,’ said Daisy, looking across the room. ‘If I were a Russian crime lord and wanted a secret agent’ – Miss Parker was holding her head in her hands and groaning in frustration as Beanie gave her a fifth wrong answer to the same question – ‘I wouldn’t choose Miss Parker . She’d refuse to do anything and then run off in a rage.’
    ‘Very true,’ said Kitty, and giggled.
    I nudged Daisy, extremely impressed by her evasive tactics, and she winked back at me. We both knew that we were getting somewhere. Miss Parker’s alibi was becoming weaker and weaker – we now knew that she had been near the Gym, alone, close to the time when Miss Bell’s murder must have