A Murder Round The Corner

After School Stories

By Lauren, Brittas Bay Mixed National School

One gleeful anniversary, two gruesome murders. . .            

Part One    

Ceremonious, Yet Criminal

Chapter 1

A report from the case notes of Charlotte Dawson

My name is Charlotte Dawson (to people like my sister Anna, I’m Charlie, but I don’t like being called that) and I am twelve years old. I’m a Second Former at Serean Academy for Young Ladies in London. Chestnut coloured curls rest on my shoulders. Slightly round spectacles with a rim painted gold sit on top of my abnormally petite nose (which has a slightly large zit position atop of it), protecting my blue eyes. My nose projects above my mouth which is a bit too high up on my face. Freckles that lie close together bridge my nose. My height measures about four foot eight inches. The school uniform that I usually wear (I wear it throughout this case so you might need to know) consists of black girls shoes, tall white socks, a sable (black) skirt, a dark black blazer with a silver hem emblazoned with the school crest, a white button-down shirt, a plain coal black tie and a pale grey pullover. I basically look like a normal English girl. And my date of birth is May 23rd, 1934.

I am writing this report because I’ve been told to make a record of a recent murder that has taken place at my school.

It completely took me by surprise. Because it was Serean’s Thirty Year Anniversary that week and we all expected to be on our best behaviour in front of everyone’s family (even the teachers’), and then there was a murder.

I should probably start by telling you when the murder took place. It was committed one week ago; Monday 9th of September, 1946, on the anniversary weekend when all the families of everyone here was invited to stay at the school for the week (abnormally long time; but I didn’t decide).

There was one thing that really shocked me. One: our English teacher, Mrs Morrison, and our Maths teacher, Mr Garrett, are related.

Mrs Morrison and Mr Garrett only came to the school at the beginning of the school year, on the day of the start of year party. Our headmistress, Headmistress Worth, gives one of her signature lengthly speeches during the parties. In fact, why don’t I just write what happened at the party down here (nothing bad happened, that comes later). . .

Emily Grayson and I entered the Assembly Hall at the school. Emily’s wispy auburn (brownish-red) locks flowed just past her chest and strands fell into her dark brown eyes. Her already wide mouth stretched even wider as we stepped inside. A nose of just the right size perched itself below her eyes, clear of everything including freckles. A tiny zit lay on the top of her bright rosy cheeks. Wee (little) ears that were pink like her cheeks lay just in front of her hair. Her height measures at around average for her age, though she is about an inch smaller than me. Emily’s afflicted with coeliac disease, so she was rather gaunt. Emily’s part Scottish, and a mix of other things. She has family everywhere. Her father’s Scottish, her biological mother’s American, her stepmother is from Luxembourg, her granny on her father’s side is Irish and so’s her granddad, our Geography teacher Mr Grayson (Mr Grayson was born in England, but he has siblings who are Scottish), Emily’s uncle, has a wife who’s Mongolian. Her grandparents on her biological mother’s side of the family are English and her stepmother’s parents are from Italy. Emily herself, though, is English.

All the chairs were stacked away for extra space for the pupils and staff to move around in. Refreshment tables were lined up against the walls that weren’t covered by chairs. Pink and blue ribbons hung from the steep stage. People stood in small groups across the room blethering (talking). Tall white walls held up a pale grey panelled ceiling. Pictures of serene scenes and past headteachers hung on the wall. A steep stage with a wood panelled front and ligneous floor towered over the students and teachers. Wood also covered the floor. The blue exit door stood high up the wall on the left side of the room.

Children and teachers socialised, talking about what they did over the holidays, what they’re excited about for the year ahead and their school struggles\achievements. The First Formers tried to talk to the older years but were only successful with the Second Form girls as they were a year older and appreciated the little ones. Some of the First Formers met the teachers.

I was hoping to see our English and Maths teachers, Mr Larkins and Mr Donnelly. But they weren’t there. They couldn’t have retired; albeit (but) they seemed too young to retire.

Maybe they’re just late, I thought.

Time went by and they still didn’t show up. At a quarter to six in the evening Headmistress Worth stalked onto the stage followed by two others that I didn’t know. One was male and the other was female. The man’s blond hair was neatly combed back for the occasion. A large smile formed on his face. His blue eyes practically glowed with joy; he’d clearly been waiting for this moment for a while. A black suit wrapped around his torso and covered a white top. Black trousers encased his short legs. He looked a lot like someone I knew but I couldn’t place my finger on who.

The woman looked like his female double. Short, curly blonde hair fell to rest on her shoulders. Freckles spanned in a disorganised line across her face under her bright blue eyes. A plain, long, silky yellow dress flowed to her ankles and a white cardigan that was buttoned at the top covered her chest. Yellow pumps protected her dainty feet.

Headmistress Worth’s greying-brown hair was done up in a bun. She was a rather stocky woman. When she spoke her short arms moved in elaborate gestures. Her feet always seemed to stay in a natural first position (ballet position in case you don’t know). A baby pink cardigan wrapped around her round body over a lacy  pastel blue dress.  

Headmistress Worth adjusted the microphone and the other two people stood respectfully behind her, one to her left the other to her right.

‘Greetings, children and staff, and welcome to yet another year at Serean Academy for Young Ladies,’ Headmistress Worth started, ‘I hope this year is full of learning and fun for all of you. I also hope that there isn’t another tragedy this year.

‘I would like to inform you that this year is Serean’s thirtieth anniversary -*applause*. The anniversary celebration will begin on Sunday eighth of September when the friends and family of staff and students will arrive and will stay until Sunday fifteenth of September. As the ninth of September is the date the school opened, there will be an Anniversary Dinner on that day followed by a tour of the school for all the guests. There shall be an exeat morning on Saturday fourteenth of September from ten am until one pm.

‘Something I would like to bring to your attention tonight is that we have two new teachers this year. Mrs Alison Morrison will take the position of English teacher as Mr Mattew Larkins has been moved to another school by the Department of Education in the Government, and Mr Frank Garrett will fill the role of Maths teacher since Mr Joseph Donnelly’s melancholic [sad] passing earlier in the summer. Thank you for listening to me this evening.” Another round of laudation (applause) filled the hall when she finished.

Garrett. . . I thought, that name sounds oddly familiar. I know! Perhaps he has something to do with Lucy Garrett, the notorious thief who stole my stuff last year.

This was probably just a coincidence so I disregarded the thought. But the probability still lingered in my mind for a while afterward. If my theory was correct, then Mr Garrett would invite his relative Lucy Garrett to the anniversary next week. . . 

Of course, we only found out that Mr Garrett and Mrs Morrison were related quite recently. It was when Emily and I were told to ask the teachers that were in the staff room if our Gym teacher, Ms Burke, should start hanging up banners for the anniversary during lunch when we discovered it. It was pure coincidence that we found Mr Garrett and Mrs Morrison talking to each other about something. We waited outside the door for them to finish. The door was open and we could hear everything they said. They were debating whether they should invite their sister whom’s name we didn’t catch. Mr Garrett said that she is ‘their sister’ which means that she’s the sister of both of them. Mrs Morrison said that it was only right if they invited her because, ‘her being who she is, she finds things out very quickly’. If she knew that the anniversary was on and people were inviting their families and they didn’t invite her then she would certainly come after them. So it’s best if they do. Then I dropped my glasses because I was cleaning them and they heard me crawling loudly and clumsily around the floor, not being able to see and noticed us at the door. They turned to us, Emily stood bolt upright, I stood up and shoved my glasses up my nose. Mr Garrett asked what we were doing there and I said that Ms Burke asked us to ask them something. And the rest is history.

After we heard the discussion we noticed that both of them looked incredibly worried in all the classes leading up to it. For instance, in Maths, we were going over fractions, the part about finding fractions of numbers. The question was: ‘Andrew had £50. 9/12 of his money was stolen by Marianne. How much money did she take?’ (Andrew, Marianne and the scenario are completely made up!) When he read the second sentence he went rather tense for about half a minute then shook it off and continued the lesson like nothing happened. Even though everyone knew he was worried about something. And that something was in the question. Maybe something tragic happened to someone he knew called Andrew or Marianne.

Everybody thought this was really strange. Emily and I couldn’t wait until the anniversary to find out why.

In English one time, Mrs Morrison was revising punctuation and a girl in our form called Eleanor Thomas raised her hand after Mrs Morrison had asked the class to create a sentence with correct punctuation and write it on the whiteboard. I can’t remember exactly what Eleanor wrote, but it made Mrs Morrison tremble. From what I recall it was something about a burglary or something or other (Eleanor’s odd in that sort of way).

That time, I didn’t make a guess on what was wrong, I just thought it was fearfully odd.

Of course, the information I just shared has nothing to do with the murder. I just needed to say what’s going on at the school. There’s also a reference to these people toward the end of this report so you’ll probably need to know some of this.