The Deadly Dare Mysteries Page 4

  Theo couldn’t leave the ventilator shaft fast enough. He emerged from it, coughing and spluttering, his mouth full of goodness only knew what. After the shaft, the sunlight was warm and welcome.

  ‘I’m not going in there again,’ Theo muttered.

  And he certainly wasn’t. Not if he could possibly help it. He glanced down at his watch, then stared.

  Nine-thirty!

  How did it get so late already? Theo took off up the street, oblivious to the startled looks being directed at him. Mrs Daltry was going to bite off his head and play football with it!

  Chapter Seven

  Someone’s Lying

  THEO TOOK A deep breath, then another. Might as well get it over with, he thought.

  He opened his classroom door, his eyes on the ground. He didn’t want to watch Mrs Daltry winding up for attack. He’d seen it plenty of times before.

  But the attack never came. The room was totally silent. Theo looked up and immediately his breath caught in his throat.

  Two policemen stood in the room, at the front of the class. One of the policemen was stocky, the other was beansprout thin.

  ‘You’ve found Ricky?’ Theo asked eagerly.

  ‘No, they haven’t. And where on earth have you been? You’re covered in dust. No, never mind. Just hurry up and sit down,’ Mrs Daltry said in a rush.

  ‘You’re Theo Mosley, is that right?’ asked the stocky policeman.

  Theo nodded. He looked around. All eyes were on him.

  ‘Theo?’ Mrs Daltry prompted impatiently.

  Theo stumbled to his desk and plonked himself down. The chair next to him seemed ominously empty. Ricky’s chair … Theo tore his eyes away from it. Why were the police here? Why weren’t they out looking for Ricky?

  ‘Now we know from Theo that some of you were playing a dare game. How many of you were playing?’ the stocky policeman asked, his tone light and friendly.

  Theo’s face started to burn. What would everyone else think about him telling the police about the dare game? Theo straightened up in his chair, his lips set. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought. Ricky was more important than some stupid game. It was just tough and three-quarters if the others didn’t like it.

  ‘It’s all right, I promise. We just want to know how many of you were involved in this game?’ The stocky policeman smiled. He was the only one of the two policemen doing any talking.

  Reluctantly, hands started going up into the air.

  Both policemen looked around the room slowly. The policeman who seemed to be in charge turned his attention to Theo. ‘Theo, what was Ricky’s dare? Try to remember.’

  Theo swallowed hard. ‘It said something like – “Around six o’clock, enter the deserted warehouse at 117 Buzan Road, behind the shopping precinct. Go into the ventilation shaft, wait for an hour, then leave. If you don’t stay for the full hour, you lose.” Something like that.’

  ‘Oh, so the dares were written down?’ the policeman said, surprised.

  Theo nodded. ‘We all had to write down anonymous dares and put them in a carrier bag. Then we each got a dare which we had to do.’

  ‘So who wrote Ricky’s dare?’ asked the policeman.

  All the hands came down. Theo looked around. He’d been wondering that himself. The hands stayed down. Then Theo remembered something else. He put his hand up.

  ‘Yes, Theo?’ Mrs Daltry prompted.

  ‘I’ve just remembered what Ricky’s dare had written at the end of it,’ said Theo. ‘It said, “I’ll be watching.”’

  Silence. The classroom was as still as a cemetery at night for a few moments. It was as if everyone in the room was holding their breath.

  ‘Let me say again that we’re not interested in blaming anyone or getting anyone into trouble,’ said the stocky policeman. ‘At this stage we just want to find Ricky. So please, who wrote that dare?’

  Theo looked around again. No one moved.

  The policeman in charge walked over to Mrs Daltry and they muttered together for a few moments. Theo strained closer to hear what they were saying, as did everyone else, but the words were indistinct.

  Mrs Daltry shook her head, then pointed to the whiteboards at the front and side of the classroom. The policeman reluctantly nodded before turning around.

  ‘We’d like each of you in turn to write out the dares you made up last week,’ the policeman explained. ‘And please put your name next to your dare once you’ve written it down.’

  Theo risked a curious glance at the skinny policeman. He still hadn’t said a word and it didn’t look like he was going to either. Was he just there to watch – to see if anyone gave themselves away?

  ‘Claire and Robert, you can start,’ Mrs Daltry said, handing out blue pens to the two pupils closest to her.

  Robert and Claire rose unwillingly to their feet. They walked over to the whiteboards, their arms lying like wet socks at their sides.

  ‘Well?’ Mrs Daltry prompted.

  Hesitantly, they both started to write.

  ‘If you’re a boy, I dare you to wear a frilly dress and walk around the block in it. You must be seen by at least one other person in the class or it doesn’t count. If you’re a girl, I dare you to get one of the boys in the class to wear a frilly dress and walk around the block without telling him why,’ Claire wrote.

  ‘So that was you was it, you bat-breathed dweeb? I got that one!’ Tony said with disgust.

  Everyone creased up laughing. Theo read Claire’s dare enviously. He wished he’d thought of that one!

  ‘That’s enough,’ Mrs Daltry said sternly. ‘All of you just remember Ricky and why we’re doing this.’

  The laughter died away instantly.

  ‘Write a letter asking Mrs McMurtry if she’s bald under her wig and sign it.’ Robert’s writing got smaller and smaller towards the end of the sentence, but not small enough! It could still be read, even from the back of the class.

  Everyone reckoned the headmistress, Mrs McMurtry, was as bald as an egg because of the funny-peculiar way her hair sat on her head. No one would deliberately style their hair like that, so it had to be a wig – at least, that was the consensus. Mrs Daltry tutted heavily but didn’t comment on either of the dares.

  ‘OK, leave the pens up there and sit down,’ she ordered. ‘Chris, Danny, you’re next.’

  One by one, everyone had to go up to the front of the class and write down their dares. Theo’d been right about the dare Ricky had swapped with him. Sarah had written it herself!

  She must’ve reckoned that even if a girl got her dare, she’d still get to eat and see a film for free, Theo thought with disgust.

  Many minutes passed before the last dare was written down. Both whiteboards were covered from top to bottom with scribbled dares. And not one of them mentioned Buzan Road or being there at midnight. Angry, Theo looked around the room again. Someone was lying.

  ‘Theo, you’re sure about what was written on Ricky’s dare?’ asked the stocky policeman doubtfully.

  ‘Positive,’ Theo replied. ‘That’s what it said, I promise.’

  The grown-ups turned around to read the dares again.

  ‘Someone didn’t write down their real dare.’ Theo voiced his thoughts.

  ‘Right then. I’d like each of you to come up here in turn and write your name next to the dare you received. Not the one you wrote, the one you got,’ said the policeman.

  Theo understood at once. The person who’d lied and written down a brand new dare would be found out when no one claimed their dare. Clever! He looked quickly around the class. No one looked particularly anxious or upset – at least, not as far as he could see.

  ‘The dare I got isn’t on the board,’ Janice complained.

  ‘Then we’ll assume your dare was written by Ricky,’ the policeman smiled.

  Five minutes later, every dare had the writer’s initials and the receiver’s name next to it. Theo sat back, puzzled. He couldn’t understand it – unless there were two pe
ople lying? But that couldn’t be right. No, Ricky’s dare had been written by someone working alone – Theo was sure of it. But then, how come each dare had a name written next to it? There weren’t any left over. Unless …

  ‘Could those people who received the dares they wrote themselves please put their hands up,’ said the policeman lightly.

  That was just what Theo was thinking. If he’d written out a new dare to cover his tracks, he’d have no choice now but to claim it as the one he’d also picked out. And he was sure that was just what the person who was lying had done.

  As Theo looked around, three people put their hands up. Colin, Angela and Emily …

  ‘Hhmm! I see.’

  The two policemen turned their backs on the class and whispered together.

  When the policeman in charge turned back to the class, he said, ‘You can put your hands down now.’

  Angela’s arm was already at her side. Colin and Emily put their hands down.

  ‘I think all I’d say at this juncture is if any of you see or hear from Ricky or remember anything, anything at all that could help us, please phone the police or get your parents to phone us,’ said the policeman.

  ‘Is that it? Is that all you’re going to do? Someone’s lying …’ Theo protested.

  ‘Theo, that’s enough,’ Mrs Daltry admonished.

  The policeman opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, looking thoughtful.

  ‘I’d also like to say this.’ He waved his hand in the direction of the two whiteboards. ‘Playing so-called games for money can be very dangerous. I see that none of these dares is out-and-out dangerous but a lot of them are … dubious, to say the least. And apart from anything else, you might start out as friends playing these kinds of games for money, but that’s not how you’d end up – I guarantee it. It’s not worth it. So my advice is – don’t do it. And consider the consequences. Ricky Burridge is missing …’

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant Ridley. I’m sure we’ve all heard and understood every word you’ve said.’ Mrs Daltry looked around the room slowly, her blazing eyes sending laser bolts into anyone brave enough to return her gaze. Looking at her, Theo was sure that none of them had heard the last of this dare business.

  ‘We have to go now. We have other classrooms to visit,’ said the stocky policeman. ‘But if anyone remembers anything that might help find Ricky, get in touch with us. It’s very important that you do.’

  As Mrs Daltry saw the two policemen to the door, Theo took out Ricky’s crumpled-up cap from his trouser pocket and laid it on his lap beneath his table. He looked down at it.

  ‘Ricky, where are you?’ he mouthed to the cap.

  A strange tingling appeared at the back of his neck. Theo rubbed his nape impatiently. Then he realized what it meant. His head whipped around. Angela was watching him. The moment he caught her gaze, she looked away. Theo glared at her. She probably hated him for spoiling her dare game. Tough and fifteen-sixteenths! What did she want him to do? Say nothing to the police?

  The moment the door closed behind the policemen, Mrs Daltry turned to the class.

  ‘We all have some very serious talking to do,’ said Mrs Daltry. ‘Or rather I have some talking to do, you lot will listen …’

  The mid-morning buzzer sounded. The whole class gave a collective sigh of relief.

  ‘This isn’t over yet. I want to see each and every one of you back here as soon as the break is over,’ said Mrs Daltry.

  And she left the classroom. Theo could tell she was more than upset because she didn’t pop a liquorice allsort into her mouth. Everyone else trooped out of the classroom after her, very subdued. Everyone except Theo.

  He walked over to the whiteboards and examined every dare in turn. The dare he was after might not be on the board but what about the handwriting? Theo studied each written dare twice, then three and four times. It was no use. There were at least ten very likely samples of handwriting and at least another five possibles. Huffing with frustration, Theo dug his hands in his pockets. What should he do now?

  Of course writing on a board was different from writing on a piece of paper. Except how would he get to see samples of everyone’s handwriting as written on paper? And what about Ricky’s cap? Should Theo hand it over to the police or not?

  Soon, Theo decided. Very soon – but not now.

  Theo still needed the cap. It was his only way of keeping close to Ricky.

  Chapter Eight

  Wrong

  11:05 hrs Monday, 19th May

  I’M SITTING IN the loos writing this. The smudges on the paper are from where I’ve been crying. I cry all the time now. The least little thing sets me off. I feel all alone and so frightened. It all went wrong. As wrong as can be. Tom guessed that it was all my fault. He told me not to tell the others – under any circumstances. I must never tell anyone. That’s what he says.

  Robbie is madder than a kicked dog about it and is ranting non-stop. Scott says nothing. Somehow that’s worse. I’ve caught him giving me strange looks, but he hasn’t said a word – at least, not directly to me.

  Does he suspect me? From the way he keeps looking at me, he must do. But Ricky can’t have told them yet that he and I go to the same school – otherwise Scott and Robbie would’ve said or done something by now. Ricky doesn’t … shouldn’t know I’m involved in this. He doesn’t know about Tom being my brother, so maybe I’ll get away with it. Maybe. If, as Tom says, I keep my mouth shut. Tom says if anything happens, he can handle the others. But he’s just fooling himself. He wouldn’t stand a chance against Robbie, and Scott’s the sort to stab him in the back – literally. Dylan’s a complete waste of space, so he wouldn’t help. Dylan couldn’t help himself out of the shallow end of a swimming pool.

  I can’t stop thinking about Ricky. I wish I could, but I can’t. It’s not my fault Ricky got caught up in the middle of all this. It’s not my fault Ricky got caught at all. Who told him to come prying and poking around and sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted? That’s not my fault. It has nothing to do with me.

  They’re going to do the job the day after tomorrow. Robbie keeps going on about how nothing and no one is going to stop them now. Not the police, not the army and certainly not some little snot-nosed kid – as he calls Ricky.

  Tom says they didn’t mean to hurt Ricky but they didn’t have any choice. Just thinking about it make me feel sick. There’s a solid lump of something hard and heavy sitting in my chest. It’s there all the time now.

  I think it’s fear.

  It’s not fair. Ricky getting caught was his own stupid fault. I can’t do anything to help him – I wish I could, but I can’t. I … I …

  I’ve got to sign off. I can’t stop crying. I wish I could just freeze the world and everything in it – just until I’d had a chance to sit down and think. I’m so frightened.

  When will I stop feeling so frightened all the time?

  Chapter Nine

  Don’t Tell

  ‘THEO, SIT DOWN!’ Mrs Daltry was close to going nuclear! Theo was driving her nuts!

  Theo walked the long way round the class to get to his desk. He stopped abruptly at Emily’s table and snatched up her workbook. Flicking disdainfully through the pages, Theo then held the book by its spine and turned it upside down.

  ‘Mrs Daltry, Theo’s grabbed my book. Tell him!’ Emily complained.

  ‘Theo, I’m not going to warn you again. I don’t know what’s got into you this afternoon but I’m not going to stand for any more,’ Mrs Daltry thundered.

  Theo dropped Emily’s workbook back down onto the desk from a great height and swaggered back to his seat. On the way he caught sight of Angela, yawning again. Before her mouth was closed, he grabbed her workbook and started looking through it. Angela sprang to her feet and tried to seize it back.

  ‘Give me back my book, you toad!’ Angela demanded.

  ‘Make me,’ Theo scoffed.

  ‘Theo, that does it. You can sit outside in the corridor fo
r the rest of the lesson,’ Mrs Daltry ordered.

  Slowly, Theo handed Angela her book back, his eyes never leaving her face.

  ‘Serve you right!’ Angela hissed.

  Theo didn’t reply. He walked around the back of the class, now taking the long way round to get to the door. He passed Colin’s table and looked over his shoulder to see what Colin was writing in his workbook. Colin turned his head and scowled at Theo.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked curtly.

  ‘Nothing.’ Theo shrugged.

  And he walked out of the classroom, feeling Mrs Daltry’s furious eyes boring into his back. He was careful to close the door quietly behind him, not wanting to bring down any more of Mrs Daltry’s wrath around his ears.

  Relieved, Theo sagged against the wall. He’d done it! One way or another he’d seen the normal handwriting of everyone in the class. He’d managed to take a look at most people’s workbooks during the lunch break when the classroom was deserted. But some people had put their workbooks in their shoulder bags and taken their bags to lunch with them. For those people, Theo’d had no choice but to devise a way of seeing their books before the day was out, without arousing anyone’s suspicions as to what he was really doing.

  So here he was, in trouble with Mrs Daltry, but at least now he knew who’d written his original dare. Theo shook his head as if to clear the doubts that were beginning to creep into his head. If he was right about who’d written the dare, then it didn’t make any sense. He still couldn’t figure out why they’d written it. So the only thing to do now was confront them and demand to know what had happened to Ricky.