The end-of-term exam results are out. I’ve got A’s in History, Maths, RE, Geography, Latin, and Chemistry. English was a C (boo-hoo), and French was disastrous—not because I’m bad at French, but because on the day of the exam I was feeling particularly bored. And so, instead of the essay that Mr. Scoones had asked us to write (Racontez ce que vous avez fait pendant vos vacances), I wrote an account of a murder (un meurtre) that I’d committed over the weekend, and how I’d disposed of the body (le cadavre) by cutting it into tiny pieces (en petits morceaux) and leaving them in the school kitchens, where they were speedily incorporated (rapidement incorporés) into a batch of shepherd’s pie.

Turns out Mr. Scoones doesn’t have that kind of sense of humor. Besides the note to my parents, which was bad enough, I’ve got two weeks’ lunchtime detention, starting from next Monday, which means that I won’t see Harry again until after the Christmas holidays. Funny, how quickly I’ve got used to these lunchtime sessions of Harry’s. I’ll miss them, Mousey. I’ll miss him. Stupid, pompous Mr. Scoones.

Meanwhile, Poodle’s up to no good. He didn’t do well in his exams. I saw his Chemistry paper, all covered in those doodles that he’s always drawing in class. Plus he isn’t happy here. You can tell from watching him. There are patches of eczema on his fingers and up his arms, and acne on his forehead. (My dad thinks acne’s a sign of self-abuse.) And he’s started avoiding me before school and at lunchtimes. After school, he sneaks away before you can try to talk to him. I wonder if it was something I said—maybe that day in Harry’s room. Or something preying on his mind. Something or someone, Mousey.

Some people are good at hiding things. Some are better at finding things out. I’m good at both, actually. Which is why, when he left school today, I followed him at a distance. I could tell right away he wasn’t going home. He lives on the far side of the park, at the top of Millionaires’ Row. But I could see he was heading for the other side of the Village; Sunnybank Park, the White City slums, and all the wasteland that comes after.