Shattered

By: Abellen

Chapter Fourteen: Fruitless

The alarm trilled on my bedside table and I opened one eye wearily. The numbers were fuzzy, but I could just make out the time and I let out a soft groan. I'd been having such a good dream, and the call to prepare myself for the day was definitely unwelcome. I let my eyes drift shut for a few more moments before I braced myself for the cold air waiting beyond my bed.

I hurried through my morning routine and resisted the temptation to linger under the warm spray of the shower. It was only when I was fully dressed for the chill outside that I wandered downstairs to get my breakfast. Dad looked up from the newspaper and smiled, before nudging a cup of steaming hot coffee my way. 'You look like you could do with this. Just don't tell your mother.'

I smiled and took a gulp, feeling the hot drink warm me from the inside out. Mom disapproved of the use of caffeine by teenagers, although she was powerless to do anything but sigh and shake her head in protest.

'Where is she?'

'Still in bed. She's feeling a bit unwell. When's this exam day of yours?'

'Tomorrow,' I said quietly, trying not to grimace. I'd barely spared it a second thought since we were told about it, but now I was starting to feel the pressure. 'It's not going on our permanent record. It's something for the school.'

'Well, try your best anyway. You're bright, Cornelius. I know you can go far.'

'I don't think I'll ever be going as far as Ingrid,' I chuckled, shaking my head ruefully.

'Yes, she is exceptionally bright, isn't she?' Dad smiled, although a little sadly. 'Keep an eye on her, Fillmore. Intelligence isn't everything.'

We sat at the breakfast table in silence. Dad sighed at the grim news that the paper laid out for him, and I ate cereal, my mind dwelling on Ingrid. I still felt the prickle and flare of anger, but that had nearly faded. The hole it had left was rapidly filling with concern and I gave a sigh of annoyance that made my father glance over the top of his paper.

'Kiss her,' he suggested, and I choked on my corn flakes.

'What?'

'Forget what your mother says. Kiss her.'

'Dad!'

My father grinned broadly at my embarrassment. 'I bet she'll kiss you back.'

I smiled at the idea, but shook my head. 'I don't think that'd be a good idea.'

'You don't know until you try.' He glanced at the clock. 'You'd better hurry up or you'll be late.'

'I'm going. Say bye to Mom for me, and tell her I hope she gets better.'

'I will. Have a good day, Cornelius.'

I made my way to school with my hands in my pocket and my breath clouding in the air in front of me. The bitter weather had rolled in over night, and while the sky was a fragile, crystal blue the air was sharp and the wind bitterly cold.

Ingrid was waiting for me by the stop sign, shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to keep warm. She had a mug of something hot cradled in her hands and took a big gulp as I approached. 'Why didn't you wait inside?'

'It's just a bit chilly, Fillmore. It's not like it's going to kill me!'

'You'll catch a cold.'

'You know that's not true. You can't catch a cold from being cold.'

'Being cold lowers the strength of the immune system and can make you more susceptible to viruses.' I raised an eyebrow at Ingrid's smile. 'What?'

'Wow, you were listening in science!' she said, a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

'I always listen. Well, sort of.'

We made our way into the school, deliberately not speaking of the secrets between us, or the fight we'd had the day before. She took off her hat when we got inside and I shed my scarf and gloves. There was one thing to be said for X middle school, they didn't skimp on the heating.

'Hey Ingrid, I'm going to go and see Folsom before lessons.'

Ingrid looked at me suspiciously, before nodding. 'Okay, Fillmore. Don't be late.' She turned and walked towards the office, and quickly lost herself in the crowds that were beginning to fill the corridor. I didn't have long, but I knew that I had to tell the Principal about my suspicions.

Anza, Tehama and I had not made huge amounts of progress the day before, but both Rossi and Flint's alibis were far from watertight. That alone wasn't enough to prove anything, but I had the feeling that evidence would be hard to come by, particularly if the victims weren't going to talk. All I could do was tell Folsom what we thought was going on, and hope that she could do something to stop it.

As I approached her office I saw that the door was slightly open, and I could hear her stern tones clearly. The conversation was entirely one-sided, so I assumed that she was on the phone.

'The exams are a waste of time. There are better ways to see if the school is meeting targets! No, I'm not trying to cause difficulties, Superintendent, but the children are under enough stress as it is without these additional – no – of course not. Goodbye,Superintendent.'

I heard the phone crash back onto the receiver and winced before knocking quietly.

'Come in.' The Principal raised an eyebrow when she saw me and took a gulp of her coffee before motioning to the seat opposite her. 'Fillmore, what can I do for you?'

I sat down and tried to think of where to start. My hesitancy must have been obvious because hert stern features softened.

'About a week ago the top five students received threatening notes and phone calls from an unknown source. We've reached a dead end on the case because we're waiting for the caller to make their next move.'

The Principal's eyes narrowed and she tapped a manicured nail against her cup. 'It's unlike you to admit that you're having trouble with a case, Officer Fillmore. What aren't you telling me?'

'We think that the next move has been made, and as a result the victims are too scared to come forward and report it.'

The scowl became a thoughtful frown. 'What would make a student not come forward when threatened?'

'Abuse, blackmail… we think it's more serious that a petty crime. Whoever is behind it has enough motivation to take big risks,' I said frankly, trying to drive home to the woman across the desk how concerned I was.

'What about Miss Third? She's the brightest student in the school, so surely she must have received threats as well?' Folsom's eyes softened with pity, no doubt thinking that Ingrid had enough to deal with without trouble at school.

'She's not talking about it. At most we've got her to admit that there is something stopping her from making a report. We don't even know if she's received an additional threat. She is still working on the case, although independently of the rest of us. I think she knows an angle that we don't.'

Folsom turned in her chair and steeped her fingers in front of her. 'Do you have any suspects?'

'Yes, but we've got no concrete evidence against them yet.'

'I can't do anything without evidence, Fillmore.'

I sighed and looked down at the floor. 'Then can you do something about Harris? He's threatened Ingrid physically, if not harmed her.'

The Principal sat upright in her chair and fixed me with an intense gaze. 'Why hasn't Ingrid told me about this?'

'She said it was just threats, and that the harm he did was by accident. It's a typical bully and victim scenario. The victim fears a more violent attack if they tell an adult.'

Folsom shut her eyes for a moment, a grim expression on her face, before she sighed. 'All I can do at this stage is ask Harris' teachers to keep a close eye on his whereabouts. I would never have let him into the school in the first place, but my hand was forced.'

'Is that really all you can do?' I asked in disbelief.

'I'm sorry Fillmore, but until Ingrid comes forward herself, or you can get more evidence there is nothing else I can do in an official capacity. Keep me updated.'

I sighed and turned to leave, disappointed that Folsom hadn't been able to be a bit more forceful. I knew we didn't have enough evidence but, to be honest, we were still clutching at straws. Only one person seemed to have any idea about the case, and she wasn't talking.

I made my way along the hallway and peered around the door to the classroom. Everyone was chatting to each other, laughing and fooling around. There was no teacher in sight.

'Where is she?' I asked Anza.

'Dunno. Maybe she's ill?'

'I hope we don't have Hawthorne again,' Ingrid muttered. She was leaning against Karen's desk and I could see that she was ill at ease. Her whole frame looked stiff, as though she were ready to fight or flee at any moment. Her eyes were either focused on the floor, or darting upwards as a classmate made an unexpected movement.

Carefully I looked around the room, trying to see who else was there. Only Debbie Li, third of the top five students, took English class with us. She was sitting on her own, staring unseeingly at her hands. Just like Ingrid she looked pale and tense. Someone who I didn't recognise nudged her arm, trying to get her attention, but she just smiled vaguely and shook her head.

I sighed and looked around at the clock. There was an unofficial rule at X, no doubt repeated in schools across the globe. If there was no teacher fifteen minutes into the lesson we were to treat it as a study session and do our own thing.

Ingrid had been watching the clock as well, and with a sigh she picked up her stuff. 'I'll be back in the office. I've got work to do.'

'I'll be there in a minute,' I said. 'I'm just going to wait a bit longer. Do you want us to radio you if the teacher shows up?'

'Yeah. I'm not going to hold my breath for it though.'

I watched her go before turning to Anza and Karen. Both of them were looking glum. 'Nothing new?'

'Not a thing. All we can do is chase Rossi and Flint about their alibis,' Anza muttered.

'That's not enough. I'd bet a year's lunch money that the threats have already been made. Li looks like she's having a nervous breakdown.'

'Ingrid's not faring much better,' Karen pointed out. 'I had a thought about her and Monaco last night. What if he was talking to her about the threats? What if he told her about the threat he'd received, and asked her to help him?'

'Then why wouldn't she tell us?'

'She's probably been threatened herself. They'll know she's with the Safety Patrol, and they'll have made it clear that if she told anyone the consequences would be pretty bad. We're not dealing with some dumb thugs, here. Whoever has set this up has got brains, or they've been planning it for a long, long time.'

'The thing that's bothering me is what could someone threaten Ingrid with?' Anza asked.

'We don't know everything about her. We practically know nothing about what happened before she came here,' Karen replied. 'Perhaps it's something from her past. Some kind of misdemeanour or something?'

'No, that doesn't make sense. Ingrid might be on the good side now, but she's kind of proud of the things she did,' I said.

'That sounds like someone else we know!' Tehama grinned, looking at me in a pointed way.

'Hey, I'm not proud of it. I just learned a few useful skills, that's all,' I replied. 'Like how to pick locks.'

'So you don't think Ingrid would be fazed by anyone spreading stories about her past?'

'No, she'd just shrug it off. It's something more physical…' I froze as a thought erupted in my brain.

'What is it, Fillmore?' Anza asked, a bright look in his eye. 'What've you just thought of?'

'When Harris bust the stitches on Ingrid forehead, who was it that put in the call of Officer in trouble? It wasn't Ingrid, because Harris was too close, and he smashed her radio to bits when he heard Vallejo's voice.'

'The hallways were empty. There are just loads of science labs around those lockers,' Anza added.

'But someone must have seen it.'

'I don't see what this has got to do with the case,' Karen sighed, shaking her head and brushing strands of pink hair from her eyes.

'It could be everything to do with it. We need to find out who called into the office.' I grabbed my bag and left the classroom, leaving Anza and Tehama to catch up.

The halls were deserted and I quickly pulled my sash over my head. If you were in the halls during lessons without a pass the chances were you'd end up in detention, but the sash did have some advantages. No one questioned the three of us and in a moment we were in the office. Ingrid wasn't at her desk, and Anza and I exchanged a worried glance.

'Do you want me to check the bathroom?' Karen asked.

'Yeah. I'll see if I can find out from Vallejo who made that call.'

I knocked on Vallejo's office door, expecting no reply. Normally the Junior Commissioner had lessons, but today I was in luck.

'Come in.'

Vallejo sat at his desk with books open all around him. He'd obviously been studying for the exams tomorrow, and he was scowling ferociously at a math problem.

'What is it, Fillmore?'

'When Harris was going for Ingrid in the science corridor, who called into the office? Was it on the radio?'

'No, it was on an internal phone line. Why?

'Was it a boy or a girl?' I asked, not bothering to answer his question.

'It was a girl's voice. She was quite well-spoken, and she was probably wearing earrings.' At my curious look he said, 'they were clanking against the phone as she spoke. Does it matter?'

'It might do. Is that all you can remember?'

'Yeah, but hang on…' Vallejo pulled out a logbook and flicked through the pages before finding the relevant entry. 'The extension number was four-seven-two-zero. That means the call came in from room eleven.'

'Got it.'

'Hey Fillmore, don't you have lessons?'

'The teacher didn't show, man. What about you?'

'Officially, it's a study-session. Unofficially I'm keeping half an eye on Ingrid. Folsom's orders.'

I smiled and took the bit of paper with the room details on it. 'Glad Folsom's doing something.'

'Yeah, well I can't do much. Besides, you know what Ingrid gets like sometimes.'

'Do you know where she went?' I jerked my thumb towards the empty desk and Vallejo sighed. 'No, my instructions were to watch her while she's in the office. I can't start tailing her through the school,' the Junior Commissioner looked back at his math problem before glancing up with a grin. 'That's your job, unofficially I mean.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

I left the tiny office and motioned to Anza. 'We're going to room eleven. We'll see if anyone saw anything at Thursday lunchtime.' I picked up my new radio from the desk and spoke into the receiver. 'Hey Karen, we'll be in room eleven. Is Ingrid with you?'

'Yeah,' Karen replied, her voice quiet. 'We're in the library. Let me know if you find anything interesting.'

'Sure.'

It took a few minutes for Anza and I to find room eleven among the maze of science labs. X was known as the best in the state for science, and it showed in every gleaming white room. 'Look at the size of the windows. Someone would have a great view of Ingrid's locker. Maybe we should get Tehama to dust the phone for prints. I mean, how often does anyone use it?' Anza asked.

'I don't think we'll have much luck. They clean these rooms from top to bottom every night. The university shares the facilities, and they're very picky about contamination.'

'How do you know that?'

'Ingrid of course. She was doing a class in microbiology after school a few months ago,' I replied, peering around the door to the teacher's office.

Mr Fillps was reading over a research paper and he looked up absent-mindedly when I knocked on the door.

'Sorry boys, there's no class for another hour.'

'Mr Fillps, we're from the Safety Patrol. Is it okay if we ask you some questions?'

'Hmmmm? Oh of course, of course. Sit down. It won't take long will it, because I've got to plate out some cells in ten minutes.'

'It shouldn't take that long, sir. We just want to know if anyone was authorised to use this lab at Thursday lunch time?'

Mr Fillps tapped a pencil against his lips thoughtfully before he picked up a file and flicked through it. He sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Yes they were. I keep telling the lab assistants not to authorise without my permission. Unfortunately they're young men, and they seem to lose all sense if a young lady flutters her eyelashes. A Miss Tanja Rossi was using the labs at that time. Pretty girl, quite bright, but nothing to shout about.'

Anza was scribbling in his notepad, and I noticed the small smile of success on his face. The teacher cleared his throat and said, 'Actually, officers, your arrival is quite timely. We've had a theft. A bottle of ethanol, and another one of chloride have gone missing. We are obviously quite concerned, since if any young students decided to drink the ethanol it could be potentially fatal. We've informed the police of course, but they're uninterested to say the least.'

'We'll send our photographer and forensics to the scene at lunch, Mr Fillps. Is there anything particular that could be made out of ethanol and chloride?'

'Nothing springs to mind, but in the hands of the untutored it could be very dangerous.'

'We'll get on it as soon as we can.'

'Thank you young man, I appreciate it.'

He closed his office door behind us and Anza shut his notebook decisively. 'It's got to be Rossi, hasn't it? She's turning up everywhere!'

'Where's the proof?'

'Oh come on, Fillmore!'

'I'm serious, Anza. Yeah, it's suspicious that she seems to be up to her neck in everything, but at best we've got circumstantial evidence. We still don't have any motive.'

'Is it worth giving what we've got to Ingrid? I mean, she didn't ask us to help her, but maybe what we've found will be enough for her to crack the case.'

'What have we found exactly?' I asked, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together in my head.

Anza took a deep breath and flicked through his notepad. 'Two callers threatening the brightest students. Second threat's still unknown. Um, two petty thefts. Some chemicals missing and some money for the cheerleaders place.'

'That might not be connected.'

'But it could be. We shouldn't rule it out,' Anza said. 'Then we've got Rossi, who's fingerprints were on the cash box at the cheerleaders' and who put in the call to Safety Patrol about Ingrid… although I still don't see what that's got to do with anything.'

'It's just a theory, and it's probably not even true,' I said dismissively.

'So you're not going to tell me about it?'

'No.'

'Fine. We also know that her alibi, along with Flint's has a few holes in it,' Anza shut the notebook again and shook his head. 'Fillmore, we've only got half the picture. I'll bet that Ingrid's got the other half.'

I nodded in agreement and took the notebook from his unresisting hand. 'I'll give this to her.'

'Hey, Fillmore, she'd tell someone, wouldn't she? I mean if it was really serious.'

'I used to think she would, but now I'm not so sure.'

The office was empty when we returned and Anza busied himself with the paperwork that littered his desk. I tried to concentrate on schoolwork, but found my attention wandering to Ingrid's empty chair. For some reason I couldn't get rid of the feeling that something bad was about to happen. If someone were desperate enough to risk so much with this blackmailing scheme, would they think twice about exacting a painful revenge on the person who finally caught them out? The people involved couldn't be older than fourteen, but you still heard of teenagers so driven that they committed the most terrible crimes. If they were left with nothing to lose would they stop at broken bones?

I shook my head ruthlessly and grabbed the notebook. I had to find Ingrid.. She was mine, and I wasn't about to let anyone hurt her.

End of Chapter Fourteen

Author's Notes: As always a huge "Thank you!" goes out to everyone who's reviewed. It's thos encouraging comments that drive me to write the next chapter even faster.
There are probably another seven chapters to go, and I shall try and get them all posted before I go abroad on December 14th. Oh and I still need a title for the sequel, and a letter to start the chapters with. Any ideas?