A Lesson in Murder

by Nick Bishop

  “Don’t you do that, Joe? Certainly, teaching salaries aren’t great. But I’m sure most of us make enough to maintain a certain way of life. Not an elaborate one, but adequate.”

  “Not to their way of thinking, I guess.”

  “Who do you mean?”

  “Laura and her father.”

  “You implied the family is very successful.”

  Joe nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Briner House.”

  “Wow, that’s your father-in-law?”

  “It is. As I said, one of the most successful makers of Swiss cheese in the area, if not the entire U.S.”

  “My Mom, Dad and I used to go there for the cheese,” Jed said, “but also for the atmosphere. The gift shop itself is… The only word I can think of is spectacular.”

  “Yeah,” Joe said. “Unique. Expensive. That’s part of the offer too.” He took a sip of coffee. “So, tell me what you think, Jed. Do I give in and become a cheesemaker…which I know I’d hate? Or do I stick with what I really want to do and go on teaching high school English?”

  “That’s a tough one. If I were to respond immediately, I’d say I think you should continue teaching.”

  “But?”

  “I suppose you have no choice but to consider what would happen if you do. You said you love Laura very much.”

  Joe nodded.

  “Like I said, it’s a tough one. I can’t tell you to do one thing or the other. Unfortunately, I think your only immediate choice is to take some time to make a definite decision. Because, on one hand, you’d continue doing what you like. But if things are as bad as you say, you’d risk losing your wife. I guess you have to decide which is more important. Not losing Laura or not losing the freedom to do what you like. I’m sorry, Joe. I wish I could come up with a magic solution for you.”

  “I appreciate you taking the time to listen.”

  “For all the good it did.”

  “No. I needed to talk about it. Needed to try to clarify my thinking. At least I can’t or won’t walk out on my contract, which means I have about eight months to decide what to do.”

  “I’ll be glad to listen any time you want to talk.”

  “Thanks, Jed. You don’t know how much I appreciate your ear and your time.” He stood. “I was thinking that if I don’t leave soon, Laura will begin to wonder if something happened to me.” He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t know what sort of situation I’m going to face once I go home.”

  Chapter Three

  Just before the bell rang to begin classes the next morning, Ellie Steiner hurried to Jed’s classroom. She appeared flustered.

  “Ellie. Is something wrong?”

  “Have you seen Joe?”

  “You mean this morning?”

  “Of course.”

  “The last time I saw him was yesterday. He wanted to talk with me, so I met with him after school.”

  “That’s a surprise,” Ellie said. “I had no idea you two were friends.”

  Jed chuckled. “Neither did I. And actually, we aren’t. He came up to me yesterday as we were leaving the cafeteria and asked if we could get together later. He said he needed to talk.”

  “How unusual.”

  “He said he was having a problem and just needed someone to talk to.”

  “And you were the one he chose.”

  Jed nodded. “I gather he isn’t here.”

  “He’s not. You know his homeroom is next to mine. And he’s usually one of the first teachers to arrive.” She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.”

  He must just be running late, Jed thought, though he was a little concerned after what Joe had talked about yesterday afternoon.

  As soon as the bell rang, Jed closed the door to the classroom and went to stand behind his desk. Already Teri was taking her first gulp of glue for the day. He sighed. Apparently, it didn’t hurt her, and her mother wasn’t concerned. “Just let it go this time,” he told himself.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “In the neighborhood?” one of the kids said.

  “Oh, you remember Mr. Rogers, do you?” Jed smiled. He picked up the math book. “I trust everyone had an enjoyable time preparing their math homework for the day.”

  There was a chorus of groans. “Okay, please pass your papers to the front of the room. I can hardly wait until the end of the day, so I can delve into the results of all your hard work.”

  “Just like I know my mom loves to do each night,” Teri said.

  “Precisely,” Jed answered as he took the papers from the kids sitting at the front of each row. “Now, let’s turn to page…” Soon everyone—or at least Jed hoped everyone—was engrossed in the lesson. Idly, he wondered if Joe had shown up.

  Suddenly, the sound system crackled. “This is your superintendent, Mr. Zimmerman. I have some very sad news.”

  Joe frowned. What was going on?

  “This morning, apparently on his way to school. Mr. Johnstone had a terrible accident. He paused for a moment.

  What! Jed thought. What sort of accident. Was he okay?

  As the superintendent tried to go on, his voice broke. “Unfortunately, Mr. Johnstone did not survive.”

  “Oh, my God!” Joe said aloud.

  “I’m very, very sorry.”

  The classroom erupted with sobs. “That can’t be!” Teri said. “That can’t be.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But it isn’t okay. I’ve known Mr. Johnstone for years.”

  “I can’t believe it,” one of the boys said. “My older brother has him as a teacher. He was just talking about him yesterday.

  Jed didn’t go back to the lesson. He knew the kids wouldn’t be able to concentrate, and neither could he. He was in shock. He’d spent the last afternoon with the man. And now he was dead. It didn’t make sense.

  ***

  Later, in the cafeteria, one of the teachers took out his cell phone and switched on the local radio station, WJER. He kept the volume low so only those seated nearby could hear.

  “Now to local news,” the announcer said. “At approximately 7:45 this morning a Caraway teacher was shot and killed just outside the Dover city limits on Route 39. He was in a vehicle on the edge of a field owned by the Michael Raber family.”

  Everyone around the table gasped or sobbed. “This is horrible,” Ellie said. “Absolutely horrible.”

  “Authorities say they believe Johnstone pulled off the road to meet someone. He allegedly opened the passenger door and was shot through the neck with a bullet point arrow”

  “Oh, dear Jesus,” Teri’s mom said. “Who could have done this! Who?”

  “Joseph Johnstone was a well-known archer, having won a silver in the sport in the last Olympics. He is survived by his wife, Laura,” the announcer continued, “who is the daughter of the owner of The Briner House in Sweet River.”

  Jed turned to Ellie. “Why would he deliberately stop on his way to school? Especially in a field. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You know, I never especially liked the man,” Ellie whispered to Jed, “but I’d certainly never wish something like this to happen to him or to anyone else.”

  Later, on the way home, Jed turned on the news. It seemed the authorities had come up against a wall in locating Joe’s killer.

  School was canceled the next day, though grief counselors were on hand to talk with students. Jed was restless. It was nice to spend time with Sugar and Spice but not under such disturbing circumstances. He turned on the TV news and snuggled for a while with the two cats. Both purred as if they had supercharged engines. Sugar curled up in Jed’s lap while Spice chewed on the top button of his pajamas. Police still hadn’t made any arrests in Joe’s murder.

  Jed decided he’d go to the school and see if he could help out in any way—maybe even talk with a few of the kids. He guessed that some of them would feel a little inhibited talking to the counselors, whereas he was a familiar face. He fixed
breakfast for himself and the cats—fried eggs and toast for himself and Gourmet Tuna Delight for Sugar and Spice. He had a second cup of coffee, petted the cats one last time, dressed, and went out to his car. He still couldn’t accept what had happened to Joe. It had been only a day and a half since he’d met with him. He wondered if he could have done anything to prevent what happened. No. What could he possibly have done? Advised Joe to take a sick day and not go to school the following morning? Of course not. He couldn’t foretell the future.

  ***

  “Mr. Fredericks,” Teri greeted him at school. “I’m so glad you’re here. “I don’t know why what happened to Mr. Johnstone affected me so much. I can’t stop crying. I didn’t sleep all night. My mom either. She told me I should come and talk to someone. But I don’t know any of these people.”

  “Let’s go to the cafeteria and get some juice. I hear they’re serving all day long—drinks and doughnuts.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fredericks.”

  “You’re welcome, Teri.”

  An hour or so later things seemed to be winding down. There were few students around, most had left the school, and Jed decided to head on home. He was glad he’d gone. He talked to half a dozen kids and hoped he’d helped at least a little bit.

  On the way home, he started thinking about the murder. It was difficult for him to accept what happened. He felt he had to do something about it. He decided to dust off his journalistic skills and at least try to help solve the murder. That wasn’t as difficult as it might seem, he thought, since he had a good friend on the Dover police department—Detective Sam Branson. He was sure the two of them could share information, and he and Sam had worked together many times. And since Joe had been killed inside the Dover city limits, the city police department would be in charge of the investigation.

  Just after he went inside his phone rang. “Yes?” he answered.

  “Jed, it’s Ellie. I just can’t get Joe’s death out of my mind. I want to know who killed him, and I want to know why.”

  Jed chuckled.

  “Did I say something funny?” Ellie asked, an edge to her voice.

  “No, Ellie. Not at all. It’s just that I was thinking the very same thing. I just decided to put my previous job skills to work and see if I can come up with anything.”

  “About Joe’s murder?”

  “Yes. So, are you up to having lunch?”

  “I was just about to mention it.”

  “How about the chicken place in Strasburg?” Jed said. “It may be good to get away from Dover for a while. New surroundings, new thoughts,” Jed answered.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Why don’t you stop at my house, and we can go together?”

  “See you in a while.”

  Within minutes Ellie turned into Jed’s driveway. She rolled down the window and told Jed she’d like to drive. He climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Now,” Ellie said. “Absolutely no jokes about women drivers.”

  Jed smiled. “I wouldn’t think of it,” he kidded as he held up crossed fingers.

  “That’s what they all say and then pretty soon it’s something like, ‘Did you hear about the woman driver who pulled into a gas station? And then there’s some cockamamie story about a woman who knows nothing about cars.” She glanced sideways at Jed. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Fredericks, that I’m a certified mechanic!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. When my husband was working on his Ph.D. degree, I decided to do something for fun.”

  “And that meant becoming a certified mechanic!”

  “You object to that, do you!?”

  “Heaven’s no. So, the next time my car needs a tune up, I’ll call you. And you’ll give me a discount because we’re friends. Right?”

  “Don’t bet on it,” she said as she put the car in reverse and backed out the driveway.

  It was only a few miles to the restaurant, which Jed was surprised to see was crowded—probably with businesspeople and others having their lunch break. He’d only been there before in the evening.

  After they’d both ordered—fried chicken, mashed potatoes, stuffing, peas and fresh sweet corn, Ellie looked up at Jed. “Do you suspect anyone?”

  “Of Joe’s murder?”

  Ellie nodded.

  Jed wasn’t sure whether to tell Ellie about the talk with Joe or not. Then he decided that since Joe wasn’t around anymore, he wouldn’t be breaking any confidences. And, if they were going to investigate the murder, it wouldn’t be right not to tell her. “Actually, there is one person,” he said and told her about his talk with Joe.

  “I’m not surprised,” Ellie said. “They come from such different backgrounds. Success for Joe was being able to fulfill dreams. For his wife, it seems, success equals money. I hate to be judgmental…”

  “If we’re working on this together—which we are—I think we have to be open with each other, whether it seems judgmental or not. We need to look at everything.”

  “Of course,” Ellie said, “I know about the Briner House. Who in the area doesn’t? But I didn’t realize Joe was married to the owner’s daughter.” The server arrived with their meals. Ellie took a bite of her mashed potatoes. “Did you know that Joe helped an Amish girl continue on with her schooling?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “A very bright girl by the name of Mattie Yoder. That was three years ago, and she has already finished her bachelor-of science degree in physics and has started on her Ph.D. Seems in her field you can skip the master’s.”

  “I thought that the Amish forbade kids from continuing beyond eighth grade. I mean I have a few Amish kids in my class, some of them bright, but I know they can’t go on in school.”

  “And it’s heartbreaking, isn’t it? So much potential—just wasted.” She shook her head. “Of course, I don’t like it, but I suppose the Amish have a right to do as they like. And young men and women do have to make a choice whether or not to join the religion.”

  “But if they don’t join, doesn’t that mean losing contact with their families and their friends? I guess I really don’t know a great deal about it.”

  “If you mean they’re shunned, it’s not quite that bad. They’re allowed to come home, but they have to eat at a different table than the others. They can’t give anyone gifts. Other Amish, I mean. And they’re never allowed to participate in community activities. The family will help them if they need it, but they’re no longer considered a part of the flock.” She took a sip of coffee. “It can be very hard on those who choose not to join the religion when they reach the age to do so.

  “I’m sure it can,” Jed said, chewing on a mouthful of chicken.

  “Sometimes it’s just as hard or harder on the families.”

  “You don’t think the young woman’s family had anything to do with Joe’s murder, do you?”

  “I’d hate to think so, but it is possible.”

  “What did Joe do, exactly?”

  “He encouraged Mattie. Since she couldn’t go on to high school, he spent a lot of time preparing her to take her GED exam at sixteen—the youngest age you’re allowed in Ohio.”

  “And obviously she passed.”

  “I'd expect with flying colors.”

  “How could he do this and have the family not know?”

  “Part of it was when she was working for The Budget.”

  “The Amish newspaper?”

  “Yes, she worked there part-time as a volunteer. Proofreading, editing, whatever needed to be done. But she didn’t work as many hours as her parents thought. The rest of the time, Joe tutored her.”

  “How did he do that…without people finding out?”

  “Partly, it was luck, I guess. They met at a little restaurant just after school. Apparently, no one ever caught on.”

  “Amazing.”

  “And Joe helped her to apply to different colleges, so that she was able to enroll early. As I said, within three years, despite working f
ull-time at a restaurant in New Philadelphia, she was able to finish her degree. She went to the Kent State Regional Campus and then commuted back and forth to the main campus, all the while continuing to work. So, at the time most kids are college freshmen or sophomores, she already had a bachelor’s degree.”

  “I have a question.” He patted his mouth with a napkin. “Do the Amish ever use a bow and arrows? I mean, yes, it’s a primitive weapon. But—”

  “The Amish do hunt. That provides a lot of their food. And some of them do use bows instead of rifles or shotguns.”

  “Hmmm. So, it is possible that an Amish man killed Joe,” Jed said.

  “I suppose he could have recognized Mattie’s father driving by in his buggy and stopped the car to talk to him.”

  “But there is the fact that Joe pulled off the road, as if he were expecting to meet someone.”

  “Yes, there is that, one of the clues that makes the murder so intriguing.” She chuckled. “And as a snoopy old woman I’m just curious enough to try to solve the mystery—not only of who did it, but also why and how.”

  “What do you see as the first step we should take?” Jed asked as the waitress brought slices of apple pie to the table. He used his fork to cut off a bite.

  “You’re the one who’s the reporter,” Ellie said.

  “Ex-reporter!”

  “Okay, ex-reporter. But another thing about me that you probably didn’t know is that I speak German. That means if we want to speak with any of the Amish, I can pretty well understand their way of talking.”

  “You amaze me, Ellie.”

  “My husband was a professor of German at Ohio State. I knew a little bit of the language before I met him, but very little. He taught me to speak—as he said—like a native Spaniard.”

  Jed broke out laughing. “Like a native Spaniard, eh?”

  “At least I can muddle through.”

  “So, you’re implying we should visit Mattie’s father?”

  “Of course, he speaks English, as do other Amish in the area, but in a limited way. His skill level in English probably matches mine in German. But I’m sure we can get along just fine. Maybe I can learn some things that would be hard to find out if you didn’t speak the same language. Well, almost the same language. You know the Amish speak Pennsylvania Dutch.”