I Know What You Did Last Wednesday Read Free

and upper landing were covered in thick, red carpet which muffled every sound. In the distance I could hear Janet calling out Rory’s name but it was difficult to say if she was near or far away. Suddenly we were lost and very much on our own.
    We reached a corner where there was a suit of dull silver armour standing guard; a knight with a shield but no sword.
    “I don’t like it,” I said.
    “I think it’s a very nice suit of armour,” Tim replied.
    “I’m not talking about the armour, Tim,” I said. “I’m talking about the whole island. Why isn’t there anyone here to meet us? And why did your friend send that old fishing boat to pick us up?”
    Tim smiled. “Relax, kid,” he said. “The house is a bit quiet, that’s all. But my sixth sense would tell me if there was something wrong, and right now I’m feeling fine…”
    Just then there was a high-pitched scream from another part of the second floor. It was Brenda. She screamed and screamed again.
    “How lovely!” Tim exclaimed. “Brenda’s singing for us! I think that’s Mozart, isn’t it?”
    “It’s not Mozart, Tim,” I shouted, beginning to run towards the sound. “She’s screaming for help! Come on!”
    We ran down the corridor and round the corner. That was when we saw Brenda, standing in front of an open bedroom door. She had stopped screaming now but her face was white and her hands were tearing at her hair. At the same time, Libby and Sylvie appeared, coming up the stairs. And Eric was also there, pushing his way forward to see what the fuss was about.
    Tim and I reached the doorway. I looked inside.
    The room had a red carpet. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the room had once had a yellow carpet. It was covered in blood. There was more blood on the walls and on the bed. There was even blood on the blood.
    And there was McDougal. I’m afraid it was the end of the story for Rory. The sword that had killed him was lying next to him and I guess it must have been taken from the suit of armour.
    Brenda screamed again and pulled out a handful of her own hair.
    Eric stood back, gasping.
    Libby burst into tears.
    And Tim, of course, fainted.
    There were just the eight of us, trapped on Crocodile Island. And I had to admit, our reunion hadn’t got off to a very good start.

AFTER DARK
    “It was horrible,” Tim groaned. “It was horrible. Rory McPoodle … he was in pieces!”
    “I don’t want to hear about it, Tim,” I said. Actually, it was too late. He’d already told me twenty times.
    “Why would anyone
do
that?” he demanded. “What sort of person would do that?”
    “I’m not sure,” I muttered. “How about a dangerous lunatic?”
    Tim nodded. “You could be right,” he said.
    We were sitting in our bedroom. We knew it was the bedroom that McDougal had prepared for us because it had Tim’s name on the door. There were seven bedrooms on the same floor, each one of them labelled for the arriving guests. This room was square, with a high ceiling and a window with a low balcony looking out over a sea that was already grey and choppy as the sun set and the evening drew in. There was a four-poster bed, a heavy tapestry and the sort of wallpaper that could give you bad dreams. There was also something else I’d noticed and it worried me.
    “Look at this, Tim,” I said. I pointed at the bedside table. “There’s a telephone socket here – but no telephone. What does that tell you?”
    “The last person who slept in this room stole the telephone?”
    “Not exactly. I think the telephone has been taken to stop us making any calls.”
    “Why would anyone do that?”
    “To stop us reporting the death of Rory McDougal to the police.”
    Tim considered. “You mean … someone knew we were coming…” he began.
    “Exactly. And they also knew we’d be stuck here. At least until the boat came back.”
    It was a nasty thought. I was beginning to have lots of nasty thoughts, and the worst one was this: someone