Read Online The Case of the Wayward Professor by Gareth P. Jones - Free Book Online Page B

poodle.
    â€˜Oh, aye, but one of the dogs attacked a student last week, nothing serious, just a wee bit of mauling. But the school board has insisted we use less-aggressive dogs. He’s called Bruno.’
    â€˜Hello, Bruno,’ said Holly to the perplexed poodle.
    â€˜Does it noh look stupid, me with a poodle?’
    â€˜Not at all,’ lied Holly. ‘He seems quite … well, barky.’
    â€˜Aye, Ah’ve bin trying to increase his aggression levels, using North American war chants and a sophisticated Pavlovian behavioural technique involving energy bars, Irn-Bru and spam.’
    â€˜Looks like it’s working,’ said Holly.
    â€˜Noh really. Shut up, Bruno. Now, did you make thishole?’ asked the guard pointing to the fence.
    â€˜No, it was here when I fell,’ said Holly truthfully.
    â€˜I see. It’s probably another wee creature gnawing through it again.’
    Holly smiled, thinking if only he knew what sort of ‘wee’ creature it was that had made the hole.
    â€˜Right, come on, then, let’s get you back to school.’
    She followed the guard back and noticed that his name badge read ‘Hamish Fraser’.
    â€˜So, Hamish,’ she said, ‘how do you know when there’s a hole in the fence?’
    â€˜An alarm goes off in the security cabin,’ he replied.
    â€˜What else can you control from the cabin?’ she asked innocently.
    â€˜Almost everything,’ said the guard.
    â€˜But the cameras are activated by movement, aren’t they?’
    â€˜Oh, aye, but you can override everything from inside. It’s like the bridge of the starship blinking enterprise in there,’ he said. ‘Noh like in my day. All this electronic nonsense. You can’t beat a man with a good pair of eyes and proper guard dog. Sorry, Bruno.’
    After an afternoon of boring classes, during which Petal took every opportunity to make some snideremark about Holly being in love with crazy Callum, it was band rehearsal, so Holly picked up her trumpet and headed for the rehearsal room.
    Standing outside, listening to all the instruments warming up, she felt the unmistakable flutter of nerves. Focusing on the plan she took a deep breath and entered.
    The large rehearsal room was full of students and instruments and noise. In one corner a group of older girls in flowing skirts practised trills on their flutes. In another, three large boys were making fart noises with trombones and laughing very loudly. She spotted two boys holding trumpets, and introduced herself.
    â€˜Hi, I’m Holly,’ she said, opening her case. ‘I’m third trumpet.’
    â€˜Hello,’ said one of the boys, offering his hand formally. ‘I’m Julian. This is Sandy.’
    Holly shook his hand.
    â€˜I am second trumpet because I can reach top C and Jules is first trumpet because he can reach F above top C. What’s your highest note?’
    â€˜Er …’
    Holly was grateful that Miss Gilfeather entered the room, holding a baton and saying, ‘Everyone take your places, please.’
    The band assembled. Holly looked at the French horns and saw Callum smoothing down his hair, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
    With everyone settled, Miss Gilfeather addressed the band.
    â€˜Welcome everyone. As you know, this Thursday is our school concert and tradition dictates that this takes place at Little Hope, even though we have perfectly adequate facilities here. This will attract the usual media hullabaloo and Mr Palmer has asked me to remind you to look smart. Personally I don’t care if you dress up in monkey costumes as long as you play the notes correctly. Now, let’s begin with the music you have on your stands.’
    Everyone lifted their instruments, but before they could start, the doors swung open and three men in dark suits and dark sunglasses moved quickly and purposefully into the room.
    â€˜What is it?’ snapped