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 sit next to each other in chemistry lessons.” He scratched his head. “I did have a little accident once, but he was able to laugh about it. Once we’d put out the flames. And I visited him lots of times in the hospital.”

“How about Brenda Blake?”

Tim thought back. “She was in the school choir,” he said. “She was also on the soccer team. She used to sing on the bench.” 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 toward 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 old fisherman said when he’d dropped us? “I’ll be back in a couple of days.” It had been Wednesday when we arrived. He might not return until the weekend. How many passengers would there be left waiting for him?

“How about Eric Draper?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“He could be the killer. It would have to be someone strong to carry the globe up to the roof in the first place. Can you remember anything about him?”

Tim laughed. “He was a great sport. I’ll never forget the last day of the term when the seven of us pulled off his pants and threw him in the canal!”

“What?” I exclaimed. “You pulled off his pants and threw him in the canal? Why?”

“Well, he was the head boy. And he’d always been bossy. It was just a bit of fun. Except that he nearly drowned. And the canal was so polluted, he had to spend six months in the hospital.”

“Are you telling me that the seven of you nearly killed Eric?” I was almost screaming. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that this whole thing could be his revenge?”

“But it was just a joke!”

“You almost killed him, Tim! Maybe he wasn’t amused.”

I stood up. It was time to go back to the house. The other three would be waiting for us . . . if they’d managed to survive the last half hour.

“I wish I’d never come here,” Tim muttered.

“I wish you’d never come here,” I agreed.

“Poor Libby. And Sylvie. And Janet. And Rory, of course. He was first.”

We walked a few more steps in silence. Then I suddenly stopped. “What did you say, Tim?” I demanded.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yes, you did! Before you weren’t saying anything, you were saying something.”