: A Neville
: Suspicion
: CreateBooks
: 9781483594675
: 1
: CHF 3.00
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 113
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Suspicion A Mystery for Young Adults When Mr Bennett, Head Teacher of Trenwith High School, dies in mysterious circumstances, suspicion falls on 18 year old JOE MERCER. Joe is the epitome of a young hooligan-permanently excluded from Trenwith High School, always hiding behind his hoodie, except for when he's hooning around on his motor bike. Then it's his full-face helmet that provides his camouflage. But did he really do it? His best friends, wannabe professional rugby player SEB HOWELL, whose smile can make girls lose their balance, and Seb's girlfriend EMILY BENNETT, the principal's daughter, think not and set out to prove him innocent. Joe is charged with Mr Bennett's murder and, while in prison, he realises his feelings for his childhood friend, Emily, have grown from 'brotherly' love to something more. But Emily is Seb's girlfriend and Joe knows he must respect that. Besides, Emily would never want to be with a loser like him. As Emily's pen tattoos reach further and further up her arms, their suspicions lead them to her mother. She, like Joe, has motive and opportunity. And neither of them can, or will, account for their whereabouts at the time of Mr Bennett's death. The case is complicated further when another family member confesses to being involved. It is not until the final harrowing court scene that the truth of their suspicions is exposed and the murderer's identity revealed.

1

Joe

 

Joe loathed rugby. He loathed watching it and people who played it. He even loathed people whose only sin was to watch it. With two exceptions: his best friend Seb, and Seb’s girlfriend, Emily.

With his hoodie covering half his face, Joe hoped he’d be hard to recognise. He slunk over to the East Stand, which had been commandeered by Trenwith supporters. But his jeans gave him away — crotch at knee-length, the colour of blue-tinted coffee dregs. He always wore them. They were the only ones he had.

It was the quarter-final of the Secondary Schools’ Rugby Cup. He shouldn’t even be there but Seb was playing for Trenwith High School against their arch rival, Grammar. No way was the mess Joe was in now going to stop him watching them play today.

Grammar students horsed around in the opposite stand shouting abuse at the Trenwith supporters which they, of course, maturely ignored. Yeah right! Just as well they were separated. Rivalry between the two high schools was legendary, and not just in rugby. Joe didn’t like football either but healmost wished he’d gone to the football match earlier in the season where tensions boiled over into a full scale riot.

From the mass of Trenwith fans, decked out in their maroon and yellow scarves, came a chorus ofWe are the Champions,We are the… The players weren’t even on the field yet but already the noise was deafening. Joe watched the fake-tanned legs of Trenwith cheer-leaders jerk up and down as if controlled by a crazed puppet-master. Legs weren’t the only things bouncing up and down. His eyes latched like metal to a magnet to any… well, not legs!

Emily Bennett was easy to spot amongst spectators in the Trenwith stand, her coat a blaze of orange. When he got closer he saw her trade mark purple Doc Martins were topped by the gaudiest socks he’d ever seen — black, orange, purple and shocking pink stripes ridged up her jeans like malleable corrugated iron. No wearing school colours for her. Joe guessed it was something to do with trying to identify herself as someone other than the high school principal’s daughter. She stiffened when he slouched up beside her. He liked Emily, even though she was a rugby fan. It wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend played rugby. Anyway, she’d probably been brain-washed since she was a kid by her father. As well as being the school principal, he was the First XV coach, after all.

She tilted her head from side to side as though trying to decide how to react to him. Things were awkward because of her father and what was happening to Joe, but she smiled at him. Then she pulled her stripy scarf tighter against the wind and rammed tight fists deep in her pockets, eyes cemented on the players’ tunnel, no doubt waiting for Seb. Seb, who Joe had come to support as well. Seb, who only had to smile to make girls lose their balance.

It always seemed ridiculous to Joe that there were people who wanted to be around someone just because they were handsome or pretty. It was like picking your cereal because of what the box looked like instead of how it tasted. Not that Seb wasn’t a good guy. He was. Not as good a mate as his brother, Shelby, had been. But a good mate never-the-less.

Just when he thought the crowd couldn’t get any louder, there was a roar. The teams ran onto the field and bagpipes screeched from the Grammar stand. Losers. Trenwith could match that and then some! A trumpet blared. In fact,