I Know What You Did Last Wednesday Read Online Free PDF

There was nobody there … apart from the three very dead bodies. It wasn’t easy searching those particular rooms, but we made ourselves … although I think Tim was wasting his time doing it with his eyes tightly shut.
    Nobody in the rooms. Nobody in the corridors. We found the attic but all that was there was a water tank. Tim dipped his head in and I made a mental note not to drink any more water. Not with his dandruff. Eventually, we gave up. We had been everywhere. There was nowhere else to look.
    We started to go back down to the kitchen but had only got halfway there when Libby let out a little gasp.
    “What is it?” Eric demanded.
    “There.” She pointed at the wall at the end of the corridor. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before!”
    What she had seen was a black-and-white photograph in a silver frame. It was hanging right in the middle of the wall with enough space around it to make it stand out. The question was – had Rory hung it there? Or had it been someone else? Was this something we were meant to see?
    The photograph showed nine teenagers, all of them wearing the same uniform. It’s funny how people change in ten years – but I recognized them at once: Eric Draper, Janet Rhodes, Mark Tyler, Brenda Blake, Sylvie Binns, Libby Goldman, Rory McDougal and Tim. Tim looked the weirdest of them all. He’d had long hair then, and spots. Lots of spots. Of course, I wouldn’t have looked too great myself when the picture had been taken – but then I would only have been four years old.
    There was one face, however, that I didn’t know. He was standing at the edge of the group, slightly apart; a thin, gangly teenager with curly hair and glasses. He was wearing an anorak and had the sort of face you’d expect to see on a train-spotter. “Who’s he?” I asked.
    “That’s Johnny!” Brenda replied. “Johnny Nadler. He was one of my best friends…”
    “And mine,” Libby agreed. “Everyone liked Johnny. We used to hang out with him in the yard.” She walked closer to the photograph. “I remember when this was taken. It was prize-giving day. He came second in geography. I came first.”
    “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Everyone in this photograph is here on Crocodile Island. Everyone except Johnny Nadler!”
    “You’re right!” Mark agreed. “Why wasn’t he invited?”
    “Because he’s the killer!” Eric snapped. “He’s got to be!”
    “But why would Johnny want to kill Rory?” Brenda asked. “The two of them were friends. And every day after school he used to catch the bus with Sylvie – even though it took him eight miles in the wrong direction. That’s how much he liked her.”
    “He let Janet cut his hair,” Libby went on. “She accidentally cut a chunk out of his ear, but he didn’t mind. In fact he laughed all the way to the hospital. Johnny wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
    “What else can you tell me about him?” I asked.
    “He came second in history as well as geography,” Eric said. “He was really clever.”
    “He was always playing with model planes and cars,” Mark added. “He used to build them himself. We always said he’d be an inventor when he left school but in fact he ended up working at Boots. I saw him there once, when I went in to get some ointment.” He blushed. “I had athlete’s foot.”
    “Did any of the rest of you ever see him again?” I asked.
    Everyone shook their heads. I looked at the photograph again. It did seem strange that he was the only one in the picture who hadn’t been invited to Crocodile Island. But did that make him the killer? And if so, where on earth was he? We had searched the entire island and we were certain now that we were the only ones who were there.
    Eric looked at his watch. It was half past twelve. “I suggest we continue this meeting downstairs,” he said.
    “I need to change,” Brenda said.
    “Me too,” Libby agreed.
    Everyone started to move in different directions.
    “Hold on a minute!”