‘No. We’re not allowed to pass it around. Whoever signs the key out has to sign it back in, when they said they would. So the other girls gave it back to Miss Arnold, and then we went and got it off her.’
‘Who did that?’
I saw the instant where a streak of fear flew bright across Rebecca’s face, and she thought about lying. No reason why she should, nothing there that could get her in trouble as far as I could see, but that was where she turned all the same. Conway was right about this one, anyway: a liar, at least when she was scared; at least when something pulled her separate from her friends, put her in the spotlight all alone.
Not stupid, though, scared or not. Took her half a second to realise there was no point. She said, ‘Me.’
I nodded like I’d noticed nothing. ‘And then yous came up to the art room. All four of you together, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And what did you do?’
‘We have this project.’ She untangled one hand from her skirt, pointed at a table by the windows: bulky shape under a paint-spattered dropcloth. ‘Selena was doing calligraphy, and Holly was grinding up chalk for snow, and Julia and I were mostly making stuff out of copper wire. We’re doing the school a hundred years ago – it’s art and history together. It’s complicated.’
‘Sounds it. So you put in the extra time,’ I said. Approving. ‘Whose idea was that?’
The approval did nothing for Rebecca. ‘Everyone’s needed to use study time on the project. We did last week, too.’
Which could have been when someone’s light bulb switched on. ‘Yeah? Whose idea was it to come back last night?’
‘I don’t even remember. We all knew we needed to.’
‘And did all of yous stay here the whole time, till nine? Or did anyone go out of the room?’
Rebecca unwrapped her hands from her skirt and tucked them under her thighs. I was lobbing the questions fast and she was still wound tight and wary, and getting warier all the time, but the wariness was scattergun stuff, general cover; she didn’t know where to point it. Unless she was good or I was thick, she didn’t know about the card.
‘Only for like a minute.’
‘Who went where?’
Fine dark eyebrows pulled down. Brown eyes ticking back and forth between me and Conway.
Conway traced over table graffiti with her Biro. I waited.
‘How come?’ Rebecca asked. ‘How come you need to know?’
I left a silence. Rebecca matched it. All those thin elbows and knees looked like sharp corners, not so frail any more.
Conway had got her far wrong, or a year had taken her a long way. Rebecca wasn’t looking for a confidence boost, wasn’t looking for me or anyone to make her feel special. She wasn’t Alison, wasn’t Orla. I was going wrong.
Conway’s head had come up. She was watching me.
I binned the easy slouch, straightened my spine. Leaning forward, hands clasped between my knees. Adult to adult.
‘Rebecca,’ I said. Different voice, direct and serious. ‘There are going to be things I can’t tell you. And I’m going to sit here asking you to tell me everything you know just the same. I know that’s unfair. But if Holly’s ever said anything about me, I’m hoping she’s told you that I’m not going to treat you like an idiot or a baby. If I can answer your questions, I’ll do it. Give me the same respect. Fair enough?’
You can hear when you hit the right note, hear the ring of it. Rebecca’s chin lost the stubborn tilt; some of the wariness in her spine shifted to readiness. ‘Yeah,’ she said, after a moment. ‘OK.’
Conway quit messing with her Biro. Sat still, ready to write.
‘Grand,’ I said. ‘So. Who left the art room?’
‘Julia went back to our room, to get one of our old photos that we’d forgotten. I went to the toilet; I think so did Selena. Holly went to get chalk – we ran out of white, so she went and got more. I think from the science lab.’
‘Do you remember what times? What order?’
Rebecca said, ‘We were in the building the whole time. We didn’t even go off this floor, except Julia and she was only gone like a minute.’
I said gently, ‘No one’s saying you did anything wrong. I’m only trying to work out what you might have seen or heard.’
‘We didn’t. See or hear anything. Any of us. We had the radio on, and we just did our project and then went back to the boarders’ wing. And we all left together. In case you were going to ask.’
Spark of defiance in there at the end, chin going up again.
‘And you gave the key back to Miss Arnold.’
‘Yeah. At nine. You can check.’ We would. I didn’t say it.
I took out the photo.
Rebecca’s eyes hit it like magnets. I kept it facing me, did the flip back and forth against a fingertip. Rebecca tried to crane her neck without moving.
I said, ‘On your way here last night, you passed the Secret Place. You passed it again on your way to the toilet and back. And again when you left at the end of the evening. Right?’
That pulled her eyes away from the photo, back to me. Wide eyes, on guard, riffling through wild guesses. ‘Yeah.’
‘Did you stop for a look, any of those times?’
‘No.’
I gave it the scepticals.
‘We were in a hurry. At first we were working on the project, and then I had to get the key back on time. We weren’t thinking about the Secret Place. Why?’ One hand coming out from under her leg, uncurling towards the photo; long thin fingers, she was going to be tall. ‘Is that—’
‘The secrets on there. Any of them yours?’
‘No.’
No beat beforehand, no split-second decision. No lie.