Chapter 47: Bookmark (Part 2)

As the girl went on, Milo’s whole face tightened.

"And how long is that gonna take?" he said.

The stares turned to him.

"I’m not sure, but we can’t search them and pretend that accounts for what can be hidden in the building. Those relics have to be somewhere. They don’t just disappear into thin air."

The stares turned back to her.

Believe me, they do.

Honestly, he should’ve eaten the damn thing right away!

Whatever use he’d imagined for it had become rather less appealing now that he was having to argue against looking for stolen property.

One palm over his stomach, Milo shook his head.

"I’m sorry Layla. It’s not efficient. We don’t know if the ghost took everything. What if... someone took one, someone else took one and one of the someones happened to be the ghost that took the soles?"

"Because you took the Turnhook."

"Exactly. Plus, the soles would be on feet."

"We can get janitors to search the rooms. Why would we wait?"

Yes, and he’d be waiting patiently in the dining hall with a dead body next door while a band of maids dislodged his flail.

"Say they find something wedged between a classroom board and the wall. We’ll still have to work out who put it there. That’s why we search the people first, while they’re all here."

"Could we start with that, sir?" Henry stood, his hand closed around something in his pocket. "If you find the soles on someone, will the others be allowed to leave? Their parents have been waiting since Monday."

Layla sighed and faced the desk.

"Okay. We do people first, but I want the rooms searched afterward."

"And check everyone against the register," Milo added. "If there’s one person missing who showed up on Monday but is no longer here, that’d be the ghost who escaped through the vent."

"We’ll check the register and search everyone downstairs," Mr. Thwaite concluded. "That includes staff. The janitors will come down with the rest."

At the principal’s agreement, Henry’s hand came out of his pocket. Even Maigh seemed satisfied for the moment, although Roy had edged his chair away from the other two and Paul watched Grace’s record more closely than the speaker.

All had one objective in mind, which was to get to the bottom of this.

They’d never.

With only one more point to bring up, Milo stepped forward.

A Bookmark set on the flail would be useless. Monitoring Cald, in contrast...

"Where’s Mr. Cald, by the way?"

Roy’s eyes widened again.

"He ran back upstairs. To where he locked us."

"After you mentioned the ghost?" Milo looked over his shoulder. "Shouldn’t we call him down, too?"

The principal called him down and returned to his tea while they waited.

Mr. Cald walked in, and the flail’s outline was unchanged.

The instructor opened his mouth, spotted Milo out of the corner of his eye, and straightened.

"What’s this about, Andrew?"

"Mr. Cald, please place your belongings on the desk."

As though refusing to believe this was not a prank, Cald scanned the room.

Mr. Thwaite raised an eyebrow.

Maigh dragged his chair aside, giving the instructor a clear path to the desk.

"What did Milo tell you again?"

Blaming everything on him had to get boring eventually, but Milo had no objection to Cald being bored downstairs.

An instructor busy with a roomful of suspects would be easier to slip away from than one investigating every corridor he had used.

"Mr. Cald, please listen to the plan." Milo eased his back against the wall. "I can see there’s some misunderstanding between you and me. Whatever I did to anger you, I think I can make up for it..." He cupped his arms around an invisible load, a gesture that only the man would understand. "...if you’ll just listen to the plan we’ve worked out together."

Alcohol fumes surged out from underneath Mr. Thwaite as he stood.

"It wasn’t Milo who told me anything." The principal drank from the cup and pointed beyond him. "It was Layla."

Losing credit for the plan was a good start to get Mr. Cald’s trust. If the proposals finally stopped coming from the accused boy and instead began to come from some girl, the instructor might realize just how much he’d been forcing the narrative to fit the idea of Milo being the culprit.

"Mr. Cald, he came here because he thought you were correct about the soles," Layla said. "I can say that I know Milo, and I see how hard it is for him to work with people he holds grudges against. Yet, he admitted that."

But the girl might get too humble and clarify that he had in fact come up with the whole plan, making it all go to shit again!

"Well, I was only thinking of Still Step." A twitch at his eyelid made him lower his eyes. "Will you hear us out, Mr. Cald?"

Under Cald’s scrutiny, the ache throughout Milo’s body became harder to ignore.

One rub to soothe some of it would give the instructor another movement to interpret, and he learned to manage what he said much better than what his body did.

"I will hear the plan. Explain why you need my belongings on your desk."

"Please do it," Mr. Thwaite said. "We are searching everyone."

"This is ridiculous." The man jutted his chin at the cup. "You’ve been drinking since morning. Is that more alcohol?"

"It’s tea."

"You were happy to lock us up," Maigh cut in. "What’s so difficult about emptying your fucking pockets, Instructor?"

"You’re in no state to make decisions, Andrew."

"I’m talking to you!" the boy barked.

"I can follow logic, all right?" Mr. Thwaite replied. "If you want to know what I’ve decided, you can listen with everybody else."

Without another word, the principal faded into the workroom.

The next time his voice sounded, it was an echo through the school comms.

"I urge every individual in this building: guest, student, staff member..."

Milo approached Mr. Cald from behind.

"...to gather inside the dining hall. Those who fail to comply will be penalized."

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⋆˚࿔ Coming right up: "Bookmark (Part 3)" ... ⤵︎ [!]