The Secret Place

‘I had a little lookie when I went to the loo. Just to see if there was anything good.’

 

‘Was there?’

 

Joanne shrugged. ‘Same old stuff. Boring.’

 

No Labradors, no boobs. I said, ‘Any of those cards yours?’

 

Glance flicked at Houlihan. ‘No.’

 

‘Are you sure?’

 

‘Um, yes?’

 

‘Just asking because one of your friends mentioned that you’d made up a few, early on.’

 

Joanne’s eyes chilled over. ‘Who said that?’

 

Spread my hands, humble. ‘I can’t give out that information. Sorry.’

 

Joanne was biting at the inside of her mouth, squashed her face up sideways. The others were all going to pay. ‘If she said it was just me, she’s such a liar. It was all of us. And we took them down again. I mean, come on. You make it sound like some massive big deal. We were just having a laugh.’

 

Conway had been right: lies on that board, as well as secrets. McKenna had put it up for her purposes; the girls used it for theirs.

 

I said, ‘How about this one?’ Photo into her hand.

 

Joanne’s jaw dropped. She recoiled in the chair. Squealed, ‘OhmyGod!’ Clapped a hand over her mouth.

 

Fake as fuck.

 

It meant nothing. Some people are like that: everything comes out like a lie. Not that they’re brilliant liars, just that they’re useless at telling the truth. You get left with no way to tell what’s the real fake and what’s the fake one.

 

We waited for her to finish up. Caught her fast glance at us, between squealy noises, to check if we were impressed.

 

I said, ‘Did you put that up on the Secret Place?’

 

‘Um, hello, no? I mean, can’t you see I’m literally in shock?’

 

The hand was pressed to her chest. She did a bit of gaspy breathing. Conway and I watched with interest.

 

Houlihan hovered, half out of her chair. Twittered.

 

Conway said, without looking, ‘You can sit down. She’s grand.’

 

Joanne shot Conway a poison look. Quit gasping.

 

I said, ‘Not for a laugh, no? There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s not like you’re under oath to stick to real secrets. We just need to know.’

 

‘I told you. No. OK?’

 

Backing off meant goodbye to my shot at ruling out all but one, hearing that lock click open.

 

Joanne was giving me the shit-on-my-shoe stare. An inch from throwing me away in the same bin as Conway.

 

‘Absolutely,’ I said. Took the photo back, tucked it away, all gone. ‘Just making sure. So which of your friends do you think it was?’

 

Something catching and flaring in Joanne’s eye; something real. Outrage; fury. Then it died.

 

‘Uh-uh.’ One finger wagging. Little smile. ‘No way any of them put this up.’

 

A hundred per cent positive. They wouldn’t dare.

 

‘Then who did?’

 

‘Um, how is that my problem?’

 

‘It’s not. But you’ve obviously got your finger on the pulse of everything that happens in this school. If anyone’s guess is worth hearing, it’s yours.’

 

Satisfied smile, Joanne accepting her due. I had her back. ‘If it’s someone who was in the school yesterday evening, then it’s the people who were in here after us. Julia and Holly and Selena and Whatshername.’

 

‘Yeah? You figure they know something about what happened to Chris?’

 

Shrug. ‘Maybe.’

 

‘Interesting,’ I said. Nodded away, grave. ‘Anything special making you think that?’

 

‘I don’t have evidence. That’s your job. I’m just saying.’

 

I said, ‘I’m going to ask for your opinion on one more thing. Any ideas you’ve got could help us. Who do you think killed Chris?’

 

Joanne said, ‘Wasn’t it totally Groundskeeper Willy? I mean, I don’t know his name, that’s just what everyone called him because there was this rumour that he offered this girl some E if she would . . .’ Glance at Houlihan, who was starting to look like today was an education and not in a good way. ‘I mean, I don’t know if he was a pervert or just a drug dealer, but either way, ew. I thought you guys knew it was him but you didn’t have enough evidence.’

 

Same as Alison: could be what she actually thought, could be a smart screen. ‘And you think Holly and her friends might have that evidence? How?’

 

Joanne pulled a strand of hair out of her ponytail, examined it for split ends. ‘I guess you think they’re all such angels, they’d never do drugs. I mean, God, Rebecca, she’s just so innocent, right?’

 

‘I haven’t met her yet. Would they do drugs, yeah?’

 

Another quick look at Houlihan. Shrug. ‘I’m not saying they did. I’m not saying they’d have, like, done anything with Groundskeeper Willy.’ Smirk curling the corners of Joanne’s mouth. ‘I’m just saying they’re freaks and I don’t know what they’d do. That’s all.’

 

She would’ve been delighted to play this game all day, drop hints like farts and mince away from the stink. I said, ‘Pick one thing to tell me about Chris. Whatever you think was most important.’

 

Joanne thought. Something unpleasant pulling at her top lip.

 

Said, right on cue, ‘I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying anything bad about him.’