All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(27)

Dr Lau clapped her hands to start class, and Chai returned to her seat.

The lecture was something about the different ways illnesses can affect the manner in which a body decays, but I couldn’t really pay attention. It’s not that I particularly cared about Gable, but the news was still shocking. And I couldn’t help but wonder whether I had been the last person to see him Sunday night. And if that were true, I couldn’t help but wonder if that coincidence was going to cause problems for me down the road. Or sooner. I couldn’t afford any more problems. I was probably being paranoid, but . . . Life really had taught me that smart people anticipated the worst. That way, there was time to make a plan. At some point, Win whispered, ‘Are you OK?’

I nodded, but I wasn’t OK. I wanted to go call Mr Kipling. Like, right then. I decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for me to be seen running the heck out of class to call my lawyer. So I sat in my seat, and I folded my hands in my lap, and I looked at Dr Lau, and I didn’t hear one word she said.

Win whispered, ‘Can I help?’

I shook my head, annoyed. What could he do? I needed quiet and time.

As soon as the bell rang, I started walking straight to the phone booths that were in front of the main office. I needed to call Nana and I needed to call Mr Kipling. I moved briskly, but I made sure not to run.

Before I got there, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the principal. ‘Anya,’ she said, ‘these people need to have a word with you.’ When I turned, I was not particularly surprised to see several police officers standing behind her. They weren’t wearing uniforms – plain-clothes detectives, I’d guess – but I could smell the policeness of them all the same.

‘Principal,’ I said, ‘how long is this going to take? I have an English test. Beowulf.’ I could see my peers looking curiously at me. I did my best to ignore them. I needed to concentrate.

‘Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll see to it that you’re able to make it up,’ she said, placing a hand on my back. ‘Officers, let’s move this discussion to a more private location.’

On the brief walk to the office, I was trying to decide whether to assert my right to refuse questioning without a lawyer present. Because I really would have felt better with Mr Kipling in the room, and yet I knew how these things worked – requesting his presence too soon could make me seem guilty. Even though it was my right, if I asked for Mr Kipling, they could demand to question me at the police station instead of at school. That would definitely be worse. Calm down, Anya, I told myself. Wait and see what happens first.

There were three police detectives – a woman and two men. The woman was in her thirties with short, frizzy blonde hair. (Despite my predicament, I couldn’t help but think she would benefit from a few hair-product vouchers.) She introduced herself as Detective Frappe. The two men looked nearly identical (crew cuts, doughy faces), only one had on a red tie (Detective Cranford) and the other a black one (Detective Jones).

Detective Frappe seemed to be the boss, as she did most of the talking. ‘Anya, you’d really be helping us out today if you answered a few questions.’

I nodded.

‘I assume you’ve heard about Gable Arsley,’ Frappe said.

I carefully considered my reply. ‘People have been talking but the only thing I know for sure is that he’s been absent from school,’ I said.

‘He’s in the hospital,’ Frappe said. ‘He’s very sick. He might even die. That’s why it’s very important that you tell us everything you can.’

I nodded. ‘Can I ask a question?’

Frappe exchanged a look with Cranford. Cranford nodded slowly, so maybe he was the boss. ‘I don’t see why not,’ Frappe said.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ I asked.

Frappe exchanged another look with Cranford. Cranford nodded again. ‘Gable Arsley has been poisoned.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Poor Gable. Jesus.’ I shook my head. ‘I apologize for my language, Principal. It’s just so shocking.’

‘How does that make you feel?’ Frappe asked.

I thought shaking my head and taking the Lord’s name in vain and saying it was shocking had pretty much expressed that, but . . . ‘I feel bad, of course. Until recently, he was my boyfriend.’

‘Yes, the principal told us that. That’s why we specifically wanted to talk to you, Anya.’

‘Yes.’

‘He broke up with you?’

If I hadn’t mentioned it before, Jones was taping the whole conversation, and I didn’t want it ‘on the record’ that Gable Arsley had broken up with me. ‘No,’ I said.

‘You broke up with him?’

‘You could say the decision was mutual,’ I said.

‘Care to elaborate?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s sort of personal.’

‘This is important, Anya.’

‘The thing is, I really don’t want to say it in front of her.’ I looked at the principal. ‘It’s, well, vulgar,’ I added. ‘And embarrassing.’

‘Go on, Anya,’ the principal said. ‘I won’t judge you.’

‘Fine.’ I could see where this was going. I figured that, not knowing enough facts about Gable’s poisoning and how they did or did not implicate me, it could be worse for me to start lying or concealing things now. ‘Gable Arsley wanted to sleep with me, and when I told him no, he tried to anyway. The only thing that stopped him was that my brother came into the room.’