The Craft of Murder

Chapter One - 3rd March

I woke up at my desk, a sea of paper and textbooks surrounding me, my laptop emitting a low hum which signified it was still running. Sitting up and rubbing my eyes, I realised I was still in my uniform; a now crumpled pair of trousers, a creased dark green jumper, and a suffocating black tie with the Quarry Manor crest on it.

My Rolex was still on my wrist - showing about 6:40 am. My father was no doubt going to storm into my room and sing 'We will rock you' until I came out of my dressing room, fully dressed, or, and this was his favourite option, dump my cat Yoti on my head to wake me up. Either way, I had to at least pretend I had fallen asleep on my bed. Dad would flip when he realised I had pulled an all-nighter. He was a big fan of 'beauty sleep', and turned into the Incredible Hulk when he didn't have enough. He even took a cookie off of me once.

However, before I could arm myself with a Sherlock Holmes book to defend myself from the screeched lyrics of Queen's masterpiece, I heard a bellow from outside. I ran to the window and saw my friends out in the rain.

"DAN PETERSEN! LET. US. IN!" screamed Daphne. "MY HAIR IS GETTING WET!"

Whoops, I may have forgotten (just maybe) that I was meant to meet them down my road, but it had, evidently, slipped my mind completely with the panic of having unfinished Physics homework about 12 hours before it was due. Fumbling with my stuff, I ran a brush through my short brown hair and took the sunglasses, which I had fallen asleep with on, off my green eyes.

"Dan!" A shout from Grace came. "Please!"

I stuffed my laptop into my bag, along with my fingerprinting and lock-picking sets. I glanced down at my uniform. Yeah, I definitely needed more time.

"Zara!!!" I yelled, "Get the door please!"

"I can't!" She replied from the lift. "I need to get my blazer, sorry!"

Zara was in a wheelchair, so Maman and Dad had a lift put in for her. Our house was a magnificent Georgian country house, off the outskirts of the richest housing estate in Ferrytown, so transporting and putting the lift in was tricky. It was a shame Zara couldn't use the beautiful staircases I do.

I went into my dressing room and changed into a fresh uniform. As I scanned my appearance in the mirror, I smiled: my uniform fit my tall gangly frame perfectly. Maman had paid for it to be tailor-made. It would be frowned upon for the children of Violette Petersen not to have a well-fitting uniform.

When I rushed downstairs, the door was finally flung open by a very angry Daphne, Edwina, Grace, Betty and Katie. Their uniforms were soaked. I thought maybe it was best to start positive.

"Hi everyone! Sorry I didn't show. I may have pulled an all-nighter last night for Physics homework which I still haven't finished." I winced, glancing at Katie.

She had already said that she could only finish my homework once every week. I had broken the rule twice already, and it was only Monday.

"Give me the laptop. I'll finish it for you." She sighed, rolling her eyes.

I handed her my satchel and gave her a thankful smile. It was returned with a steely glare.

Trying not to feel objectified by the piercing Katie-Porter­-is-very-disappointed look, I addressed the other four with a grimace.

"Go into the lounge," I instructed when Katie beckoned for them to go into the lounge. "But please, please only have the TV low, my dad is still sleeping. I'll make myself some breakfast and I'll be with you in a sec."

Once I had stuck the bread in the toaster, Katie came in with my laptop, frowning.

"You realise this isn't the thing we're doing the report on, right?" She glanced up.