Sorry this update is a few days late. It's been what? 4 days? Okay, that's not so bad, but I still could've done it sooner. Without getting into details, I have been very distracted and not in a writing mood lately. So, hopefully you all appreciate this chapter. It wasn't easy, but I forced myself to do it for you all…

I sound so pessimistic. Sorry, guys. Don't mean to. Thx for reading!!

xxxxxxx

Previously, I may have said narrowing down five names to one would be the hard part. Let me clarify. It would be hard for someone like you and me. But we're not talking about us. We're talking about Artemis Fowl II. Now, that's something else entirely…

Artemis once again sat in a chair in his room, but this time he wasn't bored. He had work to do. And unlike most kids, he had no problem with work over the weekend. Artemis' expensive, high-tech, and surprisingly light laptop rested open on his legs in front of him. If Artemis knew one thing about the internet it was that there is no such thing as privacy. Anything put on the world wide web is accessible, if you know what you're doing.

The first name on the suspect list was Bridget Virgil, as good a place to start as any. Artemis searched the name to see what he could come up with. Not ten minutes later he'd found she had an e-mail account with AOL. Now was time for a serious invasion of privacy. Artemis accessed every e-mail sent and received by her from the past month, which was a lot.

Artemis scanned over each message in turn, looking for key phrases related to the school. He had no intention of reading everything, especially if she was innocent. He only hoped the guilty person would be stupid enough to share their plan with friends. Most kids wouldn't be able to keep acts like this to themselves, especially if they got away with it.

After a while, Artemis found something of interest. Bridget sent an e-mail to her cousin that said:

I tried to get my mom to let me transfer to your school for my senior year, but she said no. How could she do that? She knows how much I hate this damn school. The principle doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Mullborn High doesn't appeal to its student's needs at all. You're so lucky you get to go to Westfield.

Bridget's cousin responded, sympathizing, but after that the subject was dropped. The rest of the e-mails were random teenage girl stuff, no need to go into detail. Still, that one e-mail was a very excellent lead. Artemis went through the same motions with the other four students, but none yielded such promising results.

It was time to have a chat with Miss Virgil.

xxxxxxx

Artemis caught her putting her backpack into her locker. She had blonde hair and wore a t-shirt and jeans, nothing about her made her stand out from all the rest of the student body. Artemis approached her.

"Greetings, Bridget."

The girl gave him a funny look. "Greetings? No one talks like that. Who are you?"

"I am Artemis Fowl II."

Bridget paused, recognition in her eyes. "Oh, you're the kid from Ireland. I can hear it in your voice. I'd heard there would be a foreign exchanged student this year."

Artemis kept his face even. He didn't like that she had called him a kid, even if she was three years older and two inches taller. "Yes, there's something I wish to speak to you about."

"What?" she asked, confused.

Artemis said, "Do you know a Bradon Frome?"

"Never heard of him. Does he go to Mullborn?"

"Yes. Actually, just the other day he was accused of leaving an inappropriate note for Principle Wincher."

Bridget suddenly became more alert. Artemis went with that, "Oh, you're aware of the incident? It was terrible. A lot of vulgar language. Bradon was blamed. Of course, he says he didn't do it."

Bridget swallowed. "I…I hadn't heard. Did he get in trouble?"

"Four days' suspension."

"Oh, well, I got to go," she quickly walked away without looking back.

Artemis would have none of that. He caught up to her and kept pace. Time for some blind accusations. "What I find interesting," he said. "Is that you don't know who Bradon Frome is, yet you're familiar with what he supposedly did."

Bridget scratched her nose. "I never said that."

"The look on your face said it all."

"I don't know anything about any e-mail."

"Who said anything about an e-mail?"

Bridget froze in her tracks. He was right. He'd said 'note' earlier, and she'd just giver herself away. She swore. Avoiding eye contact she maneuvered around Artemis and walked away in a nervous hurry.

Artemis let her go this time. He'd gotten from her what he needed. Guilt had just been assigned. How convenient that it was the first person on his list, too. It's never the first person. Never say never.

xxxxxxx

When Bradon's suspension was over, he walked the halls of his school with new appreciation. "I've never been happier to go to school," he said. "I was dying in that house."

Artemis was next to him, searching for a certain face in the sea of students. This part of the plan wasn't his idea, but Bradon wanted to do it. His choice. Who was Artemis to stop him? Anyway, the plan. Then he saw her. Bridget was standing with a group of friends, talking about something completely idiotic, he assumed.

He pointed her out. "There she is. Fire away." He stood back to watch the show.

Some people might wait until Bridget finished her conversation. Some might pull her aside so they'd have some privacy. Bradon stepped right up to her and started talking as if her friends weren't even there. Even the fact that he was a freshman with a bunch of seniors didn't bother him. "So, you're Bridget?"

"Can I help you?" she said with distaste.

"Yes," Bradon said. "I believe you did something I got in trouble for. It involves a message you typed on Mr. Wincher's computer."

Bridget tried to remain cool but failed miserably. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar," he accused.

"How would you know?" she shot back.

Bradon fumed. " I just do! We both know I'm right, alright? So, stop playing dumb."

Bridget pursed her lips. "Okay, say you're right. What do you want from me?"

Bradon pretended to think about it. "Hmmm…How about you say you're sorry then go turn yourself in?"

She snorted in disbelief. "Not gonna happen."

"But that's not fair!"

Newsflash. "Life's not fair."

"Then I'll turn you in," Bradon threatened.

"With what evidence?"

"With…with, um…I'll tell them…" he trailed off, realizing he had no real proof.

Bridget talked to him like one would a slow toddler. "You're not going to tell anyone. If you do I'll deny everything. Leave it alone. It's what's best."

"Female dog."

She was taken aback. "What?"

"That's what you are. The way you throw around cuss words I expected you'd know what that means," Bradon snapped and trudged back over to Artemis.

"That accomplished a lot," an amused Artemis commented.

"Shut up," said, Bradon, but there was no heart in it. "I thought once I knew who it was, they would get in trouble and everyone would come groveling back to beg me for forgiveness."

"I'm afraid that won't happen," said Artemis. " If we turned her in, we'd have to explain how we know it was her, and I don't suspect they'd think too kindly of my methods."

"So what was the point of figuring out it was her?" Bradon groaned.

"You think we've reached a dead end." It was a statement, not a question.

Bradon picked up on his tone. There was another idea Artemis wasn't sharing. "There's something else. What is it?"

Artemis flashed his dangerous smile. "The way I see it, there are two options. One, clear you own name. Obviously, that isn't very likely. Or two, make things even by making her name as dirty as yours. After all, it's only fair to return the favor."

Bradon took that in slowly. "So, you're saying…revenge."

"I suppose, if you want to put it that way."

Now that the idea was planted in Bradon's head, Artemis was going to let it simmer there for a while. His work here was done. He'd completed what he'd been asked to do, find the culprit. It'd be interesting to see what Bradon classifies as appropriate revenge. He wasn't exactly bright, so it wasn't going to be extremely impressive. It could be amusing, though. Yes, Artemis would sit this one out. He could almost see the wheels turning in Bradon's fragile brain.

xxxxxxx

Later that evening, Artemis stood by Chase, watching him play some video game.

"What is it about this that you find entertaining?" Artemis asked skeptically. Chase didn't show any sign that he knew Artemis was there, so Artemis said, "Maybe no one told you, but when you are asked a question, you are supposed to answer it."

Chase's character on the video game was on a big ship in the ocean. He was on the top deck. He jumped on to the roof above where the captain steers. Sitting there was a little white box with a red cross on it, which he quickly picked up to boost his life.

"What a ludicrous location for a first aid kit," Artemis complained. "How in the world would it get up there in the first place? That is a completely unrealistic place for that to be."

Ignoring him, Chase moved around the ship. Suddenly, a soldier jumped up from behind a crate and shot at him. Chase effortlessly shot the soldier dead, receiving only minor life loss.

Artemis spluttered, "W-what? What was that? That was the worst hiding place I've ever seen! No professional would take cover there. Behind the crate. Please. Not only was it an obvious place to hide, but if you had approached from the opposite direction, he would have been totally exposed! If Butler were here, he would be appalled!"

Chase went below deck and into a room that was empty except for a safe on the far side. He ran to it, replacing the gun he was holding with a key. The safe immediately swung open.

"Is that the key you found in the lifeboat?" Artemis asked. "What moron puts the key to their safe in a lifeboat? Completely out in the open for anyone to just stroll by and pick up! And if anyone really wanted to protect such an important safe, they would have more than a mere key keeping it locked. There weren't any DNA scanners or even a combination! Preposterous!"

Chase pressed the pause button and rounded on Artemis. "Would you shut up?"

"I am simply pointing out the painfully obvious flaws."

"Let me point you some of your flaws-"

Robin came in the living room wide eyed. It was then that Artemis realized how their voices had been gradually escalating. Robin shook her head like it wasn't worth the trouble of asking and stuck her head in the kitchen. "Mom, I'm going out for ice cream."

"That's fine. Be back before dark," Mrs. Frome's voice carried from in the kitchen. Then, "Why don't you take Chase and Artemis with you?" (She didn't mention Bradon because he was out with friends, his first day not being grounded.)

"No," the boys said simultaneously. "Just buy me an Oreo one," Chase added. "I'm in the middle of my game."

Mrs. Frome came into view, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "You're always in the middle of your game. Go out with your sister. And Artemis, dear, you could use the fresh air. It pains me to see you always cooped up in that bedroom."

And so that's how Artemis got stuck walking, again. There was no getting out of it. Mrs. Frome would not let him stay home, but she also would not give them a ride to wherever the ice cream was. (He would soon find out it's three blocks away!) However she was nice enough to give them the money to pay for their ice cream. Oh, joy.

As the three of them set out, Chase was, of course, silent, mourning the time lost playing his precious video game. Artemis was pitying his poor feet, which have been getting more use than they're used to. Robin, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself.

"What are you so happy about?" Artemis asked her.

She shrugged. "I just am. It's a nice day. It's not often you don't have to wear a jacket this time of year." The next block was quiet, then she asked, "Do you have a Baskin Robins back by where you live in Ireland?"

"No."

"Oh…" she stopped, not sure what else to say.

Two blocks later they reached Baskin Robins. The bell rang lightly as they opened the door and approached the counter. There were dozens of different combinations to choose from, very colorful in all.

"I want Oreo," Chase repeated.

"Nothing for me," Artemis said.

"Why not?" Robin asked incredulously.

"I don't want any."

"Everyone wants ice cream."

Artemis shook his head. "Not me."

"You don't like it or what?"

Artemis racked his brain. "I can't remember ever trying it. I might have when I was quite young, but I've grown out of such things by now."

Robin laughed. "Grown out of ice cream? Come on. You've gotta try something."

Artemis peered down at his options, different flavors all in large tubs behind a glass wall. There were pinks and blues and rainbow striped. Honestly! How childish.

He sighed. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to taste the vanilla. No toppings."

"Vanilla. Are you sure?" Robin ventured. "That sort of…"

"Boring," Chase supplied. His sister shot him a look.

"My favorite's mint chocolate chip," she suggested. "Why don't you get that?"

"Do I have to?"

"It's better than vanilla," she promised.

Artemis wasn't so sure, but he gave in. "Agreed, then."

Robin used the money her mom had given her to buy two mint chocolate chips and one Oreo ice cream, all in cups. ("Never get cones, or it'll drip all over your hand," she explained.) As they left the building and walked back towards home, Artemis cautiously poked at the green ice cream with a tiny, plastic spoon. Disgusting.

In about three seconds, Chase was already halfway done. Robin was eating at a more leisurely pace, savoring it. Artemis noticed her eyes on him, probably noticing that he hadn't eaten any yet, so he took a tiny spoonful and put it in his mouth, expecting the worst. At first, all he felt was cold, then it melted on his tongue and he swallowed.

After a second of debating he commented, "It doesn't taste like mint."

Robin took another bite of hers. "No. It tastes like ice cream, but it's good, right?"

"It isn't…horribly bad," he hesitated.

Robin smiled sweetly, "You like it."

Artemis would never admit it in a million years.