I Know What You Did Last Wednesday (7 page)

“That’s right.” Nadler nodded and now his face had darkened and his lips were twisted into an expression of pain. His finger tightened on the trigger and he looked at me with hatred in his eyes. “I came second in maths, second in chemistry, second in French, second in geography, second in history, second in music and second in sport. I even came second in needlework, even though my embroidered tea towel was much more beautiful than your brother’s stupid handkerchief!”

“It was a lovely handkerchief!” Tim said.

“Shut up!” Nadler screamed and for a moment I was afraid he was going to shoot Tim then and there. “Do you have any idea how horrible it is coming second?” he went on. Saliva flecked at his lips. The hand with the gun never moved. “Coming last doesn’t matter. Coming fifth or sixth … who cares? But when you come second, everyone knows. You’ve just missed! You’ve missed getting the prize by just a few marks. And everyone feels sorry for you. Poor old Johnny! He couldn’t quite make it. He wasn’t quite good enough.”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been coming second all my life. I go for jobs and I get down to the last two in the interviews but it’s always the other person who gets it. I went out with a girl but then she decided to marry someone else because as far as she was concerned, I was Number Two. When I’ve tried to sell my inventions, I’ve discovered that someone else has always got there first. Number Two! Number Two! Number Two! I hate being Number Two…!

“And it’s all your fault!” He pointed the gun at Tim and now the fury was back in his eyes. “It all started at St Egbert’s! That hateful school! That was where I started coming second and that was why I decided to have my revenge. You all thought you were clever beating me at everything. Well, I’ve showed you! I’ve killed the whole lot of you and I’ve done it in exactly the way you deserve!”

“You haven’t killed me!” Tim exclaimed.

I didn’t think it was a good idea to point this out. Nadler steadied the gun. “I’m going to do that now,” he said. “Your body will still end up smashing into the needles so everything will have worked out the way it was meant to.” He nodded at me. “I’ll have to kill you too, of course,” he continued. “You weren’t meant to be here, but I don’t mind. You sound too clever for your own good. I’m going to enjoy killing you too!”

He took aim.

“No!” I shouted.

He fired at Tim.

“Missed!” Tim laughed and rolled to one side. He was still laughing when he rolled over the side of the cliff.

“Tim!” I yelled.

“Now it’s your turn,” Nadler said.

I closed my eyes. There was nothing I could do.

There was a long pause. I opened them again.

Nadler was still standing, but even as I watched he crumpled to the ground. Eric Draper, the fat solicitor, was standing behind him. There was blood all over his shirt and he was deathly pale. But he was still alive. He was holding the blunderbuss, which he must have taken from the bear. He hadn’t fired it. He had used it like a club and knocked Nadler out.

“He only wounded me…” he gasped. “I woke up this morning. I came to find you…”

But I wasn’t interested in Eric Draper, even if he had just saved my life. I crawled over to the cliff edge and looked down, expecting to see Tim, smashed to pieces, on the rocks below.

“Hello, Nick!” Tim said.

There was a gorse bush growing out of the side of the cliff. He had fallen right onto it. I held out a hand. Tim took it. I pulled him to safety and we both lay there in the sun, exhausted, glad to be alive.

We found the
Silver Medal
moored at the jetty and I steered it back towards the mainland. Eric was slumped on the deck. Johnny Nadler was down below, tied up with so much rope that only his head was showing. We weren’t taking any chances after what had happened. We had already radioed ahead to the police. They would be waiting when we got to the mainland. Tim was standing next to me. We had left six dead bodies behind us on Crocodile Island. Well, I warned you that it was going to be a horror story.

“I’m sorry I thought you were the killer,” Tim said. He was looking even more sheepish than … well, a sheep.

“It’s all right, Tim,” I said. “It’s a mistake anyone could have made.” He swayed on his feet and suddenly I felt sorry for him. “Do you want to sit down?” I asked. “It’s going to take us a while to get back.”

Tim shook his head. “No.” He blushed. “I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“That bush I fell into. It was very prickly. My bottom’s full of…”

“What?”

“…needles!”

I pushed down on the throttle and the boat surged forward. Behind us, Crocodile Island shimmered in the morning mist until at last it had disappeared.