Every Monday morning the whole school gathered for assembly, which was about as far from exciting as you can possibly get. The only interesting thing to ever happen at assembly was for someone to fall asleep, slide out of their chair, and bang their head on the floorboards, which allowed everybody one and a half seconds to enjoy a good giggle before the Vice Principal leaped to his feet and glared them into silence.
At this particular assembly, however, something interesting had happened—the assembly hadn’t started yet.
Miss Abbercroft tried to fill the time by reading the school announcements. This did not go well. The first announcement was that the escapee from the nearby maximum-security prison had still not been caught, which caused a babble of excited mutters among the students, mainly from girls wondering what they should wear in case they bumped into him.
But the second announcement was even more disturbing. The school’s much-loved and extremely ancient cat, Purrcy, had passed away. He had fallen asleep on the hood of Mr. Henderson’s car. Unfortunately, when Mr. Henderson started his car, he accidentally put it in reverse and rear-ended a tree, which caused a large branch to fall off and crush the cat.
“What a nice way to go,” whispered Melanie. “While he was taking a nap.”
But the rest of the student body did not see it that way. Many of the girls enjoyed a good hysterical weeping session and saw this as the perfect opportunity to launch into one. The announcements had to be abandoned while messengers were sent out to fetch tissues.
Friday was, of course, secretly reading a book that she had tucked inside her blazer. It was the fourth book in The Curse of the Pirate King series. She was just getting to a good bit where the Pirate King had his foot caught in a giant clam in rapidly rising tidal waters. Friday was curious to learn if he would cut his own foot off to escape. And if he did, she just hoped he would remember to use a tourniquet before he started cutting into his ankle with a sharpened oyster shell.
“What’s going on?” asked Friday, realizing that the entire student body was sitting inside the hall while the staff milled about outside the back entrance.
“We can’t begin yet,” said Melanie, “because the Headmaster hasn’t turned up.”
“He hasn’t turned up?” said Friday. “Where is he?”
“Nobody knows,” said Melanie.
“Barnes!” yelled the Vice Principal from the back of the hall.
Friday flinched. Everyone turned to look at her, their eyes zeroing in on her distinctive green porkpie hat. Friday found herself wishing that an extremely localized sinkhole would open up in the floor beneath her, because, to Friday, falling into a fissure in the earth’s surface would be preferable to having three hundred of her peers staring at her.
“Get out here now!” demanded the Vice Principal.
Friday took a deep breath, stood up, and began her walk of shame. She didn’t even know what she was supposed to be ashamed of, so she naturally assumed the worst—that the Vice Principal had discovered something unspeakably heinous that she had no memory of doing.
“Oh dear, what have you done?” said Ian as Friday tried to squeeze past him. She could have sworn he moved his knees forward an extra inch to make it difficult.
“I’m not entirely sure,” said Friday.
“Don’t worry, with luck they’ll just expel you,” said Ian. “They won’t call the police this time.”
Friday ignored him as she continued to edge out of the row.
“Hello, Ian,” said Melanie. She was following Friday because she suspected if she stuck close to her best friend she might be able to get out of assembly entirely.
“Good morning, Melanie,” said Ian as he gallantly got out of his seat to make it easier for her to pass and even gave a little bow.
Friday rolled her eyes and ignored him, before warily approaching the angry Vice Principal. The rest of the teaching staff was clustered in a group behind him.
“Where’s the Headmaster?” demanded the Vice Principal.
“I don’t know,” said Friday.
“A likely story,” said the Vice Principal contemptuously. “Whenever there’s trouble at this school, you’re always in the middle of it. You’ve engineered his disappearance, haven’t you? No doubt with the help of your terrorist connections!”
“I don’t have terrorist connections!” protested Friday.
“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?” argued the Vice Principal.
“Yes, I would, because it’s true,” said Friday. “Instead of wasting time accusing me, why don’t you try looking for him?”
“Of all the impertinence!” exclaimed the Vice Principal.
“I’m not being impertinent,” said Friday. “I’m being practical. I can see the whole staff is here, which tells me that none of you have had the initiative to organize a search party yet.”
The teachers looked at their feet and muttered among themselves.
“You should get to it,” continued Friday. “Obviously, the school grounds should be searched. But the Headmaster also likes taking early-morning walks in the forest, where he can secretly indulge his chocolate Rolo habit, so you should search there as well.”
“No need,” said Melanie. “Look! It’s the Headmaster.”
Everyone turned. In the distance they could see the Headmaster being carried up the driveway by a large vagrant.
“Who’s that carrying him?” asked the Vice Principal, squinting. “Is it someone from the school?”
“It’s Malcolm!” exclaimed Friday.
“Who?” asked the Vice Principal.
“He’s Friday’s vagrant friend,” explained Melanie.
“I don’t believe it!” said the shocked Vice Principal.
“Oh dear,” said Friday. “I’m glad I’m not you, Vice Principal. You’re going to get in trouble for this.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” he protested.
“Precisely,” said Friday. “When the Headmaster didn’t turn up, your thoughts immediately went to conspiracy theories instead of doing what a normal person would do—show concern for a missing co-worker.”
“How dare you!” yelled the Vice Principal.
“Even now,” said Friday, “you haven’t rushed down to assist him.”
The Vice Principal glared at Friday, then took off jogging down the driveway toward his employer, followed by the more athletic members of the staff.
Friday noticed that, just a few feet away, Mr. Pilcher was about to start his riding lawn mower. So instead of jogging after the teachers, she and Melanie got Mr. Pilcher to give them a ride. Friday got to the Headmaster first.
“Are you all right?” asked Friday as the mower skidded to a halt on the gravel and she was thrown off the front onto her hands and knees.
“No, I am not,” snapped the Headmaster.
Now that she could look closely at him, Friday could tell that the Headmaster was in a state. He was disheveled, muddy, and sweaty, and his trousers were torn at the knees. Most significantly of all, the tube of Rolos in his pocket was unfinished, a testament to just how distressed he was that he had forgotten his chocolate friend was so close at hand.
“What happened?” asked the Vice Principal, lumbering to a panting halt. “What’s he doing here?” The Vice Principal pointed at Malcolm.
“Carrying your boss,” said Malcolm.
“I fell in a hole,” said the Headmaster.
“Literally?” asked Melanie. “Or are you talking about a figurative or metaphoric hole?”
“No, a literal, real hole in the ground!” yelled the Headmaster. “Some vandal dug a hole right in the middle of my favorite walk.”
“Like an elephant trap in a Tarzan movie,” said Friday.
“Are you calling me an elephant?” demanded the Headmaster.
“No,” said Friday. “I was just wondering if someone dug a hole in an attempt to trap you.”
“It obviously didn’t work because he’s here,” observed Melanie.
“The hole wasn’t that big,” said Malcolm.
“No,” said Melanie, “the culprit probably gave up when he realized the enormity of the task.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?” demanded the Headmaster.
“No,” said Melanie, “I’m just saying if someone was to trap you in a hole, it would have to be a big hole.”
“Although you are overweight,” added Friday. “There’s no point denying it. The waistband on your trousers is sufficient statistical evidence.”
“Enough!” snapped the Headmaster. “My knees are scraped, my ankle is sprained, and my trousers are ruined. I do not want to stand here a moment longer, bandying hypothetical scenarios with the two most socially malfunctional students in the school.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” said Friday.
“Yes, but fair, though,” said Melanie.
“You need ice on that ankle,” said Malcolm. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started carrying the Headmaster toward the rear of the administration building.
“What about the assembly?” asked the Vice Principal. “Do you want me to take it for you?”
“No,” barked the Headmaster. “The assembly is canceled. I want all the students to return to class, where they will each write out two hundred times ‘I will not dig holes on the school grounds.’”
“What if it wasn’t a student?” asked Friday. “What if it was a member of the staff trying to get you out of the way?” She glared meaningfully at the Vice Principal.
“How dare you!” protested the Vice Principal.
“Your fingernails are dirty,” observed Friday.
“Maybe he doesn’t wash properly,” suggested Melanie.
Friday took out her magnifying glass, ready to take a closer look.
“I was gardening,” said the Vice Principal, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide just how dirty his fingernails were.
There was a thump.
“Ow!” cried the Headmaster. He lay sprawled on the ground.
“Sorry,” said Malcolm. “I didn’t mean to drop you. I lost my grip.”
“That’s quite all right,” said the Headmaster. “Barnes, you can save your wild accusations for a time when I am not hobbling about in tremendous pain.” The Headmaster turned to Malcolm and held out his hand. “Thank you, sir, for coming to my aid. May I repay you? Perhaps with a hot meal from our dining hall?”
“I wouldn’t,” said Melanie. “It’s Monday. That means liverwurst sandwiches for lunch.”
“I don’t want to embarrass you,” said the Headmaster, “but perhaps a small monetary reward…” He rifled in his pockets, but all he could come up with was the packet of Rolos. “Oh dear, it appears I’m the one who’s embarrassed.”
“I don’t want anything,” said Malcolm.
“But what are you still doing here?” asked Friday. “I thought you had your own place. What were you doing on school grounds?”
“I wasn’t. I was across the road,” said Malcolm.
“Why?” asked Friday.
“Friday,” said Melanie, “you know how you like me to tell you when your rudeness levels are peaking? Well, you’re definitely going up into the red zone.”
“I don’t have to answer your questions,” said Malcolm.
“Fine, I just don’t want you to get into trouble,” said Friday. “Schools can be very sensitive about having an ex-criminal nearby.”
“Criminal?” exclaimed the Vice Principal. “I have to notify the school council immediately!” He scurried away.
“Thanks for that,” said Malcolm, glaring at Friday.
“You’re welcome,” said Friday with a smile.
Malcolm growled, then stomped off.
“He was being sarcastic,” said Melanie.
“Really?” said Friday. “I can never pick up on that. We need a hand signal so you can let me know.”
“How about I just put my hand over your mouth?” suggested Melanie.
“That would work,” agreed Friday.