Fraud at Snowfields Page 13

  ‘Look,’ he said after a while, ‘we don’t have any lessons this afternoon, so I thought I’d practise some more with the wand and the Yellowrin. Would you like to join me? I think it’ll be more fun if we do this together, and we could correct each other’s mistakes. What do you think?’

  Sabrina nodded. ‘I’d thought about practising too, and you’re right, it would be more fun doing it together. How about you?’ She looked over at Wendy, who by then was halfway through her enormous pudding.

  Wendy made a face. ‘I’d love to join you, but unfortunately I’ve got choir practise right after lunch.’

  Will had by now cleared his plate and stood up to get himself some chocolate pudding.

  ‘Shall I bring you some, too?’ he asked Sabrina. She looked up, surprised.

  ‘Why, yes please.’

  Will went over to the cooks and fetched two helpings.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sabrina said as he put hers down in front of her.

  They both dug in greedily.

  ‘Mmm, that’s delicious,’ moaned Sabrina.

  Will had to agree. Desserts were always the best part of lunch there—even more so than at home. Finally they finished and agreed to meet up later in the common room, when Wendy was through with choir practise.

  Will got up, left the Ferum, and went to the library. He found himself a quiet table out of the way where he could sit on his own, and gathered the books he would need to write a paper for Mr Worker. Then he got down to work. At a quarter past two, he had finally finished. He thought a moment, then decided to head back to his room. He returned the books and stepped out of the library into the corridor outside. As he walked along it, he passed a rarely-used side passage that was rather darker than the main corridors. He glanced down it briefly. Then he suddenly stopped. He had seen something glimmer yellow down there. He took a step backwards so he could have a proper look. Then he had to grin broadly at what saw at the far end: Freddy in deep concentration, waving his wand around, drawing wobbly circles of Yellowrin in the air.

  Will laughed quietly as he went on towards their common room. Sabrina, Wendy, and he were certainly not the only ones who were eager to train with their wands. Shaking his head he went on his way. When he arrived in the common room it was empty. Will looked at the large clock standing on an ornamental table next to the wall. It was just after half past two, so there still was time. He looked at the clock more closely. It was really wonderful—he always enjoyed looking at it. The face was white with scarlet numbers, and the hands were golden with a thin layer of glistening, artificial snow covering part of them. Below the clock face was a beautiful and very detailed landscape. The face rested on a white mountaintop. At its foot was snow-covered countryside and small cottages with tiny windows from which soft, golden light illuminated the whole scene. There was a lane running from behind the mountain range, past the cottages all the way through the countryside and disappearing again behind the mountain range on the other side.

  At every half and every full hour, accompanied by the chiming of a silvery bell, a small sleigh drawn by four very detailed reindeer came forwards from behind the mountain range, glided slowly along the lane, and disappeared again behind the mountains. On the sleigh was a jolly Father Christmas with all the presents—brightly-wrapped parcels in red, green, and blue—piled high in the back of the sleigh. And, as Will had discovered when he had tried to touch it, the clock was protected by a spell that prevented anyone from coming close to it. But he immensely enjoyed watching it.

  He finally turned away and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs that were scattered throughout the room, and waited for the girls. He did not have to wait for long, because almost as soon as he had settled down, Sabrina came bounding down the stairs from the girls’ bedroom, and nearly simultaneously Wendy walked in from the corridor.

  ‘Wow, that’s timing,’ said Will in greeting. Sabrina and Wendy grinned at each other.

  ‘You’ll never guess what I’ve seen,’ continued Will. ‘When I left the library, I glanced down the corridor to the side—you know, the small one, the one that doesn’t really lead anywhere—and I saw Freddy there, rather far down into it, and guess what?’ He looked at the two girls rather dramatically. ‘He was practising with his wand!’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ replied Sabrina, ‘when I walked back here, I also saw a couple of students from our class practising.’

  ‘Oh,’ replied Will.

  Wendy nodded. ‘I saw some too. On the way here, I took a shortcut that’s hardly used by anybody, and I accidentally came across Richard and Michelle as they were trying out their wands down there.’ She grinned. ‘They were quite annoyed about that.’

  Will laughed. ‘I’m sure they were.’

  Sabrina laughed as well. Then she asked, ‘So, where do we go then?’

  ‘I thought we could go over to the closed-off inner courtyard near the classroom where we have choir,’ said Wendy. ‘It’s not used in the afternoon, and it’s well out of the way and secluded, so I don’t think anyone will disturb us there.’

  Sabrina nodded. ‘That’s a good idea.’

  Will jumped up from the seat. ‘Let’s go then. Do you have your wands?’

  When he went past the sideboard, he picked up a bottle of juice and took it with him.

  Sabrina looked at him quizzically.

  ‘If we stay there long, we might get thirsty,’ he told her.

  ‘Good thinking,’ she replied.

  And the three of them left their common room and headed towards the courtyard.

  ***

  That evening, when they were having supper in the Ferum, Freddy suddenly asked Richard, ‘Why is it you’re always so disgruntled? Don’t you like it here?’ Only Freddy could be so straightforward and innocent to ask Richard this direct if rather obvious question.

  Will looked up. That was a question he had been asking himself too. Richard turned to look at Freddy. Will thought he could see a slight flicker of emotion on his face, as if he were startled by Freddy’s direct question.

  ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business,’ he finally told Freddy.

  ‘Well, but I do. After all, we are all here together.’

  ‘Yes, most unfortunately,’ Richard replied.

  ‘Well?’ Freddy was not one for backing down.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Richard said, sounding rather annoyed. ‘If you really have to know: my father is a top manager for a large motorcar company. He knows what real management and efficient production have to look like. I’ve always looked closely at his work and tried to learn all I could from him. And I can tell you for sure, if he were in charge here, everybody would be dancing to a quite different tune. No more of this oh-so-merry, bloody Christmas rubbish, but taut guidance and efficient production—that would be the focus. He would show them. I will show them!’

  By then he was quite red in the face, and he was nearly screaming. Will and the others stared at him. He looked back, nodded curtly as if satisfied with himself, got up, and left the room. The others stared after him, quite stunned. Only Michelle moved and hurried after Richard.

  Chapter 8

  Finally the day’s lesson in accounting was over. It had seemed to last forever. Mr Ancy had bored them all with his tedious explanations of double-entry bookkeeping, lingering endlessly on how each entry in one account had to be matched by an entry in its according account. He went on and on about how everything had to be double-checked so all accounts were balanced. They then had toiled on the exercise he had set them, which had not been too bad, but they had spent ages looking for the mistake, as the accounts naturally were not balanced in the end. And, to ‘keep their spirits up’, Mr Ancy had given them homework: a long list of items they had to enter and balance in one week’s time.

  That would take ages, Will thought gloomily as he walked back to his room. He had best get a start on it right away, as he would surely have to trace some mistakes when balancing the accounts.

  Will took a short
cut he had found only recently—a rarely-used corridor that was sparsely lit, matching his gloomy thoughts about accountancy. He was speculating about whether he could get Sabrina to help him a bit. Sabrina seemed to be born for accounting, as she matched the accounts with ease and they always balanced out perfectly. Suddenly he stumbled over a loose tile and fell hard against the wall. He swore under his breath and fingered his arm, where he could already feel a lump. Then he looked down. He saw the loose tile, but his eyes were immediately drawn to something else. He peered closely. In the joint between the tiles, right at the skirting board and partly under it, he saw a faint, blue glint that seemed vaguely familiar—it was a shade he would never forget. It was Bluerin.

  He squatted down, tugged at the edge that protruded from under the skirting board, and pulled it out: a small, thin, and rectangular piece of paper. He gaped at it. It looked like a twenty-pound banknote. Well, at least nearly like one, for there was the faint, blue glimmer, and the outlines of the printings were blurred. But he could see well enough that it was meant to be a banknote.

  He held it in his hand and wondered what to do. He could stick it back where he had found it. But he could also take it with him. Probably he should show it to somebody—but to whom? Sabrina? Well, what could she do about it? She would only tell him to get rid of it, to hand it over to a teacher immediately.

  Suddenly he heard a noise. Someone else was coming down the corridor. He quickly pushed the note deep into his pocket.

  ‘Will.’ The voice held suppressed contempt.

  Will groaned inwardly. ‘Ah, hello Richard.’

  The other student stopped. ‘Everything all right, Will? You look a bit flustered.’

  Will was hoping fervently that Richard had not seen what he had been doing. He smiled nervously. ‘No... Yes! Sorry. I just stumbled on this loose tile here and kind of hit my head.’

  ‘Oh, nothing serious I hope,’ Richard said in false sympathy.

  ‘No... No, just a bruise, really. I’m fine.’

  ‘Okay, if you say so.’ Richard looked at him suspiciously.

  ‘Well, I’ll just go on to my room and have a break. Bye, Richard.’ Will hurried away. He felt Richard’s stare boring into his back right until he turned the next corner.

  ‘Stupid! So stupid,’ Will reprimanded himself. ‘You couldn’t have acted more suspiciously than that.’ And why did it have to be Richard who caught him there?

  He hastened back to his room. When he got there, he was still angry with himself. He then remembered his other problem: where should he hide the note? He gazed around the common room. Then he heard voices from the corridor. Searching desperately, he saw the rug at his feet, quickly lifted the corner of it, and shoved the note underneath.

  The door opened just as Will straightened up. ‘Hi, Will, what are you doing here?’ It was Freddy, followed by Wendy. ‘Oh, hi, Freddy, Wendy,’ Will floundered. ‘I, er, I was just going to…to look at the timetable, you know, to see…what lessons we’ve got tomorrow.’ He started to move over to the wall where the timetable was hanging.

  ‘Oh, good idea. Let’s have a look.’ Freddy went over to the timetable too. Will saw out of the corner of his eye that Wendy was looking at the floor, at the rug, as if she had seen him hiding the note. Sweat started to form on his forehead.

  ‘You know,’ said Wendy, still eyeing the rug, ‘I really like this carpet. It has nice colours.’

  Will sagged visibly and sighed, feeling highly relieved. ‘Yes, I think it’s really nice, too.’

  ‘Hmm, first lesson tomorrow is Handling of Letters to Father Christmas. Great! I could just continue sleeping through that one.’ Freddy was looking at the timetable and had not taken any notice of the exchange between Wendy and Will—but then he often did not take much notice of what was happening around him.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ replied Will. ‘Well, I guess I’ll take a shower before dinner. See you there.’

  ‘Yeah, see you,’ said Freddy.

  Will nodded to him and Wendy and went towards the boys’ bathroom. Inside he went over to the shelf where all the shower gels where stacked. When Will had gone into the bathroom the first time on the day of his arrival, he had been positively amazed. It was easily the grandest bathroom he had ever seen. The walls and floor were white marble, and there were separate niches with sunken bathtubs and shower stalls. The taps were covered in gold. There were shelves filled with fluffy towels, endless bottles of shower gel, soap in different colours and scents, bubble bars, and bath pearls for the tubs. He selected a bottle of one of his favourite shower gels—rather sweet and pink, so he would only use it when nobody else was around—then undressed and went into a shower stall.

  As the warm water poured over him, he started to relax and could think more clearly about the latest events. He had certainly found something serious. Something made out of Bluerin, out of that strictly-guarded and highly-secured basic material, and then something that looked like a banknote? That could only mean forgery! He turned the tap so that more hot water flowed over him, and savoured the feeling. He wondered who in Snowfields would commit something as unthinkable as forgery—and using Bluerin to carry it out! Well, he thought, Richard was someone he could easily imagine doing the unbelievable, like selling his grandma for a pound.

  Will enjoyed the sweet smell of the gel as he applied it liberally. But Richard could not have done something like that alone, now could he? How could he even have got access to the Bluerin? Let alone being able to create something like pound notes. Especially after Will had seen him floundering around when they were practising how to form simple square blocks out of it during production lessons. No, he must have had help. Like from the goblins working in production, or maybe a Bluerinic, or, Will realised with a jolt, perhaps even a teacher.

  He needed to tell someone, that was certain. But whom? When even a teacher could be involved? The only possible person he could tell was Beltorec. He would go and see him the next day, right after lessons.

  ***

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but this young man is most persistent—says he needs to see you immediately. He says it has something to do with problems among the students, but he won’t be any more specific.’ She shot Will a dark look. ‘But he really insists, sir.’

  ‘That’s all right, Mrs Script. I appreciate the effort.’ The vice chancellor waved for Will to come into his office and to take the chair in front of his desk. Will sat down.

  ‘Want anything, Will? Tea? Lemonade? Water? Hmm?’

  ‘No, no... Thank you, sir,’ Will said. He looked at Mrs Script.

  ‘Thank you, that will be all for the moment, Mrs Script.’ The vice chancellor looked at her pointedly. She shot Will another glance, turned on her heel, and marched out.

  ‘You know, you really made her cross there.’ The vice chancellor chuckled. ‘Like every secretary in the world, our dear Mrs Script can’t stand the thought that something is going on she doesn’t know about. I’d step around her for a while if you don’t want her nagging all the time,’ he said with a wink. ‘Now then.’ He looked closely at Will. ‘What do you have to tell me so urgently?’

  ‘Well, sir, two days ago I found this in a corridor.’

  He pulled out the blue banknote and laid it on the desk. The vice chancellor gravely looked down at it. Then he picked it up, turned it round, felt the paper, and put it down on the table again, right between the two of them. He looked up at Will.

  ‘Well, it looks like a banknote, but a forged one. Where did you get this?’

  ‘I found it in a rarely-used corridor, a shortcut in the eastern wing I use to get to the lessons there. I think the colour looks very much like Bluerin. Could it be that someone is using Bluerin to forge money?’

  The vice chancellor turned it round in his hands again. ‘Hmm.’ He stroked his beard. ‘Look, Will, there are tales about a student of Snowfields a long, long time ago. He was said to have been experimenting, trying to turn Bluerin into gold coins. But
he was caught and strictly banned from any contact with Bluerin. It seemed he never succeeded. However, years after he left school, a few strange gold coins turned up that were minted rather poorly, and some said they had a faint, blue sheen. I saw one once, and I think they were right—the coinage is poor, and the gold looks oddly bluish instead of the more reddish hue you’d expect with real gold.’

  He sighed. ‘It was never ascertained or even seriously pursued whether these were fake coins, whether they were made of Bluerin, or if this student had anything to do with it…. There were more important issues during that time. Nevertheless this student became rather influential and quite rich at that specific time. Not many people nowadays know this story or would draw such conclusions, but I always thought it was all rather too coincidental.’ He gave another sigh. ‘It would be very disturbing if something like this were to happen again. It would affect not only our world but also the outside world, especially if it involves something like banknotes that have real value there, whereas here they are mere pieces of paper.’

  He paused and looked at Will. Then he got up and walked around the office, deep in thought. Will waited, thinking about what Beltorec had told him.

  ‘You know, Will,’ Beltorec said, and Will jumped, for Beltorec was suddenly standing directly behind his chair. ‘I’ve reached a decision.’ He paused. ‘I believe you are old enough, and from what I know from your teachers, you are the right person for this.’ He sat down behind his desk again and looked gravely at Will. ‘Actually, for some months now, such notes as you have brought me have been turning up here and there in Snowfields. I’ve seen five of them so far—well, really six now.’ His eyes went back to the note. ‘This is greatly worrying me, as well as the other directors here at Snowfields. We’ve discussed it several times, and we believe we must act now.’ He looked even more soberly at Will. ‘This has to stay between you and me! Not a word to another student, you hear?’