Burnington Gaol

T W E N T Y - S E V E N | Adeline

"Lucy Beaufort!"

The familiar voice boomed down the long corridor, echoing into the sick room. My head jerked towards the door. I leapt to my feet. From the doorway, I saw Billy being shoved down the hallway by who I thought might be the principal, his feet dragging along the floorboards.

"Lucy Beaufort!" He cried. "Ask Lucy Beaufort!"

The man shoved Billy around the corner into his main office. I assumed Armstrong's cane was somewhere inside, and that Billy would feel it very soon. I looked down at the dirty floorboards.

Lucy Beaufort, I pondered. Of all people.

Sweet Lucy Beaufort – shy, intelligent, lonely... I saw her often slinking down hallways, reading books in quiet corners, smiling sadly. There was a dark, dark blue aura that hung around that girl – clung to her like a stench, a perfume from some long-dead flower, decayed and alone and irretrievably gone.

I found her easily.

She was tucked in the far corner of the school library, head down and barely visible over the stacks of open books and stationary. I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt as I looked at her, heart filling with dread. Oh, God. I couldn't do this. I couldn't talk to her. My heart was beating too hard; the lump in my throat was too swollen. But Billy was in detention, and Frank was awaiting the gallows. If I didn't do it, then nobody would.

"Lucy?" My voice quivered, trembling on the syllable.

My knees buckled, hands shook. Lucy glanced up, flicked her long blond hair out of her eyes and fixed me a tragic smile.

"Oh," she said. "Hi. Adeline, right?"

I nodded.

"I, um..." I blinked, focused. "I know this is strange, but I really need your help."

Lucy frowned and rested her pen upon her scribbled paper.

"I-it's about Susie Dawson. I heard you knew her."

The moment Susie's name had been said, the colour in Lucy's face drained like water down a sink. I bit my lip.

"I know that this must be terribly painful for you, but it's really important."

Lucy looked away from me, dusting off her thighs.

"Please," she said. "Sit."

I slid my bag off my shoulders and sat down opposite her.

"Frank Dawson," I said, "the man who supposedly killed her. I think he might be innocent, and I think whoever killed Susie is still out there. But Frank is going to be hanged very soon. And I need to find out who really did it before that happens."

Lucy blinked, overwhelmed.

"You... think Frank is innocent. Why?"

"There was new evidence found. A hair. It was overlooked in the original investigation."

"Then why tell me and not the cops?"

"They don't believe me, and there isn't much time left."

Lucy paused, her eyes unfocused, as if piecing something together inside her head. Then, sheepishly, she glanced up at me.

"You really think he's innocent?"

"More than anything in the world."

Lucy sighed, leaned back in her chair.

"Okay," she said. "But I really don't see how I can help."

"Easy. I just need to ask a few questions."

She nodded.

"Shoot."

"How'd you know Susie?"

"We were best friends," Lucy said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We did everything together, from sports to class to laughing about our creepy gym teacher, Mr Grayson. We were family."

"So you knew the kind of people she hung out with?"

"It was just me, really. She wasn't the social type. Liked her own company more than going to parties and stuff like that."

"But was there anybody else who she associated with? Anybody who had a grudge against her or maybe someone she didn't get along with?"

"No, nothing like that." Lucy paused. "Well, there was her boyfriend, I guess."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah," she said. "Seth Barlow. He went to this school in year eight, dropped out in year nine. They were only dating a few days before he left."

"And how was their relationship?"

"Alright, I suppose. But he wasn't a good guy. I mean, he didn't hit her or anything like that, but he was into some really bad stuff, hung out with a lot of bad people. Had a temper. I never liked him, but Susie was practically in love."

"When you say he had a temper...?"

"He could get really mad. In the summer of year eight, he got into a scrap with a teacher. Ended up throwing a chair through a window."

"Do you think he could be capable of something like murder?"

"Well, I never really thought about it, but when he got mad, he was uncontrollable. So, I don't know. Maybe. But the cops said he had an alibi."

"Where can I find him?"

"Last I heard, he was working in an auto-repair shop in town. I think it's called Al's Auto, or something like that. It's somewhere in the south."

"Thanks," I said. "Really."

"No worries. But Adeline," she met my eyes desperately; "it's a dangerous place. Criminals and ex-cons. Drugs. Be careful. Don't go alone."

I nodded, smiled.

"Promise."

© A.G. Travers 2018