Read I Know What You Did Last Wednesday for Free Online

of America was facing up. It was stained red.
    I looked at Eric Draper. His mouth had dropped open. He looked genuinely shocked. Mark Tyler was standing opposite him, staring. Brenda Blake was to one side. She was crying.
    One of them had to be faking it. I was certain of it. One of them had to have climbed down from the room after watching Libby fall. There was nobody else here. One of them had to be the killer.
    But which one?

MORE MURDER
    Eric Draper? Brenda Blake? Or Mark Tyler?
    It was early evening and Tim and I had gone for a walk – supposedly to clear our heads. But the truth was, I wanted to be alone with him and somehow I felt safer away from the house. It struck me that all the deaths had taken place inside or near the building. And if we stayed too close to the house something else might strike me – a falling piano or a model of the Taj Mahal, for example.
    I glanced down at the piece of paper I was holding in my hand. I had made a few notes just before we left:
    RORY M C DOUGAL – Killed with a sword.
SYLVIE BINNS – Poisoned.
JANET RHODES – Stabbed with an Eiffel Tower!
LIBBY GOLDMAN – Knocked down with a globe.
    There was a pattern in there somewhere but I just couldn’t see it. Maybe some fresh air would help after all.
    “I’ve got an idea!” Tim said.
    “Go ahead, Tim,” I said.
    “Maybe I could swim back over to the coast and get some help.”
    We were sitting on the jetty. Today the sea was flat, the waves caught as if in a photograph. I could just make out the mainland, a vague ribbon lying on the horizon. The sun was setting fast. How many of us would see it rise again?
    I shook my head. “No, Tim. It’s too far.”
    “It can’t be more than five miles.”
    “And you can’t swim.”
    “Oh yes. I’d forgotten.” He glanced at me. “But you can.”
    “I can’t swim five miles!” I said. “The water’s too cold. And there’s too much of it. No. Our only hope is to solve this before the killer strikes again.”
    “You’re right, Nick.” Tim closed his eyes and sat in silence for a minute. Then he opened them again. “Maybe we could get one of the others to swim…”
    “One of the others
is
the killer!” I said. “I saw someone out on the terrace, wearing a skeleton mask. I don’t know how they managed to disappear so quickly – but I wasn’t imagining it. Brenda saw them too.”
    “Maybe it was Mark! He’s a fast mover.”
    “And just now … when Libby Goldman was killed. Someone must have climbed up onto the roof.” I thought back. “Brenda was out of breath when she came into the garden…”
    “She could have been singing!”
    “I doubt it. But she could have been running. She drops the globe, then runs all the way downstairs…”
    A seagull flew overhead, crying mournfully. I knew how it felt. I almost wanted to cry myself.
    “What’s missing is the motive,” I went on. “Think back, Tim. You were at school with these people. There are only three of them left – Brenda, Mark and Eric. Would any of them have any reason to kill the rest of you?”
    Tim sighed. “The only people who ever threatened to kill me,” he said, “were the teachers. My French teacher once threw a piece of chalk at me. And when that missed, he threw the blackboard.”
    “How did you get on with Mark Tyler?”
    “We were friends. We used to play conkers together.” He scratched his head. “I did once miss his conker and break three of his fingers, but I don’t think he minded too much.”
    “How about Brenda Blake?”
    Tim thought back. “She was in the school choir,” he said. “She was also in the rugby team. She used to sing in the scrum.” He scratched his head. “We used to tease her a bit but it was never serious.”
    “Maybe she didn’t agree.”
    The waves rolled in towards us. I looked out at the mainland, hoping to catch sight of Horatio Randle and his boat, the
Silver Medal
. But the sea was empty, darkening as the sun dipped behind it. What had the