A Little Learning

by Jane Tesh

  Up went twenty hands.

  Rachel called on one large boy in the back. “Ronald?”

  “Are you the same lady who whacked Mrs. King on the head with an umbrella?”

  Another boy called out, “And aren’t you the one who found the Mantis Man and pulled his arm off?”

  “Yeah, and squirted old Mrs. Williams with some hairspray right in the face ‘cause she was shooting at you?”

  Rachel tried to establish order. “Boys and girls, Mrs. Fairweather is here to answer art questions.”

  I could see “to hell with that” written on their little faces. Ronald waved his arm. “And didn’t you find a million dollars in a box?”

  “And wasn’t there a movie at your house about this guy dying?”

  “Isn’t Mister Fairweather a warlock? That’s what my mom says.”

  “Boys and girls, only questions about art, please.”

  Ronald frowned and gave it a try. “Have you ever painted any pictures of dead people?”

  Rachel shook her head. “I think that’s enough. Why don’t we get started on our pictures?”

  As she passed out sheets of drawing paper, I drew several faces on the chalkboard and told the students to guess who they were. They laughed as they recognized some of their classmates.

  “You see how just a few lines can change the shape of someone’s eye, or nose, or ear, or even their chin? This boy’s eyebrows go up, but this boy’s eyebrows are straight across. See if you can draw my face. I’ll try to sit still.”

  Another girl knocked at the classroom door. “Mrs. Sigmon? You said you wanted to see me at one thirty.”

  Rachel glanced at the clock. “Oh, yes, thank you. Mrs. Fairweather, please excuse me for a moment. I forgot I told Jennifer to come pick up some pictures for the newspaper contest.” She gathered a stack of drawings. The one on top was a brightly colored jungle scene. “Boys and girls, I’ll be right back. Please be on your best behavior.”

  The students were so deeply involved in their sketches, the only sounds I heard were the scratchings of pencils. Then a thin nervous-looking woman came to the door. Light glinted off her glasses as she trembled. “Is Mrs. Sigmon here?”

  “She went to the office,” I said. “She should be back in a few minutes.”

  The woman blinked rapidly, as if trying not to cry. “If I could speak to you for a moment out in the hall, then.”

  We stepped out into the hallway. “Are you a visitor?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, I’m Madeline Fairweather. Rachel invited me to speak to the students.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but this is an emergency. I’m Mrs. Dorman, Mrs. Lever’s assistant. There’s been some sort of accident. I think Mrs. Lever’s dead. I need to take her class back to their room. I can take Mrs. Petry’s class, too.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “They think she had a heart attack out on the loading deck. That’s where our teachers who smoke go for a cigarette.”

  “Which way to the loading dock?”

  She pointed to the right. “Past the cafeteria. The principal just found out and called me. He’s gone to find out what happened.”

  I wanted to know what happened, too.

  Mrs. Dorman stepped into the art room. “Boys and girls, we need to go. Mrs. Petry’s class, please line up behind Mrs. Lever’s class. Mrs. Fairweather will come back another day.”

  The children groaned but made orderly lines. As soon as they were all gone, I went down the hall and through the cafeteria. A large woman lay stretched out on the loading deck, face white, mouth open as if surprised death had the nerve to pick on her.

  Rachel and two other people were on the deck. A middle-aged man bent over Mrs. Lever as if unsure what sort of first aid to administer. Another woman stood to one side looking terrified. She had on a white uniform and hairnet. I assumed she was a cafeteria worker.

  “Madeline, did Mrs. Dorman pick up the children?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes, she took both classes. What happened?”

  “I needed to check with Jacey about helping with an art project. Amelia came out, gasped, and fell over. I sent Jacey to call Thad. I tried CPR, but—” Her voice quit.

  Jacey, the woman in the white uniform, was shaking. “I was out here, having a smoke, as usual. Mrs. Lever always comes out and has one about this time, but she acted like she couldn’t catch her breath. When she fell over, Mrs. Sigmon said go call the principal, she’d start CPR. I ran and called Mister Murphy, but it was too late.”

  The man straightened. “I’m Thad Murphy, principal. Are you a doctor?”

  “No, I’m Madeline Fairweather. I was visiting Mrs. Sigmon’s class. Has anything been moved or rearranged?”

  He shook his head. In the distance, we could hear the faint sound of a siren. “I think she had a heart attack. I don’t believe we could’ve saved her. It’s all right, Miss Jacey. You can go back in. I’ll let you know if we need to talk to you.”

  Amelia Lever had been a large unattractive woman with bristly gray hair and a prominent nose. Her dark purple lipstick made a garish contrast to her white face. There was a flesh-colored patch on her upper arm. A nicotine patch? Could you wear those and still smoke?

  “Was Mrs. Lever trying to quit smoking?” I asked.

  The principal pointed to the pile of cigarette butts sticking in a trashcan filled with sand. “I don’t think so. Miss Jacey said she lit up before she was out the door. She smoked for about three minutes and then got kind of glassy-eyed and said her heart was racing.”

  “That looks like a nicotine patch on her arm.”

  Rachel said, “Could she have overdosed on nicotine? That’s possible, isn’t it?”

  That was something the emergency team said they would suggest after they’d inspected everything and carried Amelia Lever’s body away. Thad Murphy turned to me.

  “Aren’t you Madeline Maclin? I understand you’re an investigator.”

  “Yes, I might be able to help, if you don’t mind me asking around.”

  “Do you think there’s something suspicious about Amelia’s death?”

  “Unless she was suicidal, why would she be smoking while wearing a nicotine patch?”

  “I have no idea.” He lowered his voice. “I have no objections to you investigating this, but I answer to the school board. They’d have to give permission, and we’d have to officially hire you. This may take some time.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Unofficially, I may be able to gather some information today.”

  “I know where you can start,” Rachel said. “The teachers’ lounge.”

  I thought the Internet was fast, but the teachers’ lounge was already buzzing with the news of Amelia’s Last Cigarette. Rachel introduced me to everyone at the table. Josh Kellogg, a tall, untidy fifth grade teacher, had a shirt and tie barely containing his belly. DeAnne Rivers, a third grade teacher, was a small intense woman with short unnaturally red hair. Brenda Mullins, the school nurse, had fluffy blonde hair and a slightly dull expression. I wondered why she hadn’t been called to the loading dock and asked her that very question.

  “Oh, I just got here,” she said. “I work at the high school, too. I missed all the excitement.”

  Other teachers and assistants rushed in and out, having just enough time to say hello, grab a drink out of the machine and their lunch out of the fridge.

  “So you’re the one who caught that librarian who killed the movie director,” Josh said. “You think someone killed Amelia?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “She may have overdosed on nicotine.”

  “Can you believe it?” Brenda Mullins said. “I can’t wait to tell Joey.”

  DeAnne Rivers unwrapped her sandwich. “You should’ve seen the Doormat’s face. I thought she was going to faint.”

  “She probably did it,” Josh Kellogg said. “You gotta watch the quiet ones.”

  I turned to Rachel. “Doormat?”

  “That�
�s our rather unkind nickname for Mrs. Dorman.”

  “Because she really is a doormat to Amelia Lever—or at least she was,” DeAnne said. “Josh, you’re just lucky you weren’t at the scene of the crime.”

  “DeAnne, just because the old bag’s dead doesn’t change how I feel about her. She was one of the meanest bitches I’ve ever had the misfortune to work with.”

  She took a bite of sandwich. “It does get you back on the planning committee.”

  “Hey, I’d forgotten about that. Now that Lever’s dead, I move up.”

  “Uh-oh, I smell a motive. Are you taking notes, Ms. Maclin?”

  Josh reached for one of the packs of sugar on the table, opened it, and shook the contents into his coffee. “She only took the committee position because she knew I wanted it.”

  “And where were you when she keeled over?” DeAnne asked.

  “Taking my class to P.E. Where were you?”

  “Getting stickers and gum off the computer keyboard.” She turned to Rachel. “Who was at the scene of the crime, Rachel?”

  “Who’s calling it a crime? She never should have been smoking. I went out to speak to Jacey, so it was the two of us.”

  Josh slurped the last of his coffee. “Rachel could’ve iced her, couldn’t you, Rachel? Amelia’s the main reason the arts program didn’t get that grant.”

  “That’s not something I’d kill for, Josh.”

  “I would. The old bat purposely voted against using PTA money for new P.E. equipment, too. She was an equal opportunity miser.”

  DeAnne had finished her sandwich. She crumpled the wrapping and tossed it in the trashcan. “Let’s face it, people. Everyone in this school hated her and isn’t sorry she’s dead. You’ve got plenty of suspects, Ms. Maclin. Besides, who says it’s murder? She had a heart attack. Maybe we just wish it had been murder.”

  Josh shrugged. “Who cares? I’m sure the Doormat’s going to be broken up about it. Probably danced all the way down the hall.”

  “I doubt that,” Brenda said. “She’s too old.”

  Kellogg and Rivers exchanged a glance that spoke volumes about their opinion of Brenda Mullins.

  “I mean she’s glad Lever’s dead, Brenda,” Josh said.

  Brenda still didn’t get it. “But Mrs. Dorman wouldn’t be dancing, even if she could. The students might see her.”

  “The students would join right in. ‘Ding, dong, the witch is dead.’”

  “That’s from ‘Wizard of Oz.’”

  “Correct, Mullins. Ten points to you.”

  “That’s Joey’s favorite movie.”

  I leaned over to Rachel. “Who’s Joey?”

  “Her boyfriend. He works at the hospital. She talks about him a lot.”

  Josh grinned at me. “Have you heard enough of our confessions? Get them all straight now. I hated Amelia because she took a committee position that should have been mine, the P.E. teacher hated Amelia because she voted against new equipment, Rachel hated Amelia because she kept the arts program from getting a grant, DeAnne hated Amelia because—why did you hate Amelia, DeAnne?”

  “Just on general principles.”

  “Brenda, why did you hate Amelia?”

  “Oh, she was always so rude. Joey says it’s because she’s old and worn out.”

  “She’s definitely worn out now.”

  “I understand the universal hatred,” I said, “but did she ever threaten anyone’s life, or do anything truly serious?”

  “No, she was just a miserable old crank.”

  Thad Murphy stuck his head in the door. “We’ll have a brief memorial for Amelia at PTA tonight. I realize she wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but she was a member of this faculty, and I’d like to see some respect.”

  “Yes, sir,” DeAnne said. “Have you found a replacement for her?”

  “Norma Olsen’s agreed to come in. And Ms. Maclin, if you’d stop by my office, please.”

  After Murphy left, Josh said, “Didn’t Olsen want Lever’s job anyway?”

  “I heard Amelia purposely didn’t retire this year just to spite Norma.”

  “Uh-oh, another motive.”

  “Maybe Amelia slept with Hanover.”

  I didn’t get the reference, but everyone laughed except Rachel, who blushed and whispered, “Alan Hanover is our superintendent.”

  The teachers gathered up their things and left, still laughing.

  “Your lunch bunch is a little on the cruel side,” I said.

  “I suppose they are. You can talk to everyone tonight at PTA,” Rachel said. “And I’m sorry if I don’t seem very upset, Madeline, but you’ve just heard what she was like. She never contributed to our Sunshine Fund. She never came to any faculty parties. You had to be careful when you talked to her because she got offended so easily. She was extremely difficult and hard to know. She probably should’ve retired years ago.”

  Well, she was retired now.

  ***

  Thad Murphy invited me into his office and shut the door. The windows were decorated with children’s drawings and cards. The drawings Rachel had given to Jennifer were stacked on his desk. I recognized the bright jungle scene on top.

  “I just spoke with the hospital, the superintendent, and two school board members. The doctors have some questions about Mrs. Lever’s death. They say it appears she had a heart attack. But I’m concerned about protecting the school and the faculty. I want to make certain Celosia Elementary’s reputation is not compromised in any way, and that there was no careless action on anyone’s part regarding this incident. I don’t want anyone to say we didn’t do everything possible to try to save Amelia’s life.”

  “I understand,” I said. “It seems to me your first responders did the best they could.”

  “I want to make sure of that.”

  “Do you anticipate a problem regarding the fact your school nurse wasn’t here?”

  “It’s common knowledge we share a professional health care provider with the high school. I hope that won’t be an issue. That’s why ten of our teachers are certified in CPR.”

  “I have to say the faculty members in the teachers’ lounge didn’t seem very upset.”

  He sighed. “Unfortunately, Amelia Lever was not very friendly.”

  “Isn’t that unusual for an elementary school teacher? Didn’t parents complain?”

  “Yes, we had complaints, and several parents didn’t want their children in her class. But that holds true for every single teacher in this school. Many parents liked her more structured ways and didn’t have a problem with her abrupt manner.”

  “What about the students?”

  “A few of them were scared of her, but a few are scared of Ms. Mullins, too. Amelia was a good teacher. Her students always scored very high on the end of grade tests.”

  “How many more years did she have before she retired?”

  “She was sixty-nine. She could have retired three years ago.”

  “Any idea why she kept working?”

  “Teachers don’t have to retire after thirty years if they don’t want to. I assumed she still wanted to teach.”

  But it sounded to me as if Amelia Lever hated her job. Maybe there were financial concerns. “Was she the sole support of her family?”

  “No, her sons work at one of the local clothing mills. Administrative positions, as I understand it. They took over after their father, George Lever, died in a car accident several years ago. I don’t think the Levers could be considered poor by any means.”

  “What about health issues?”

  “Aside from smoking, she seemed very healthy. She rarely took a sick day.”

  “Your teachers have a lot of little grievances against her. Did she have any serious confrontations with other faculty members that might have aggravated a heart condition?”

  “Amelia was extremely opinionated. I was often called in to mediate. Believe me, there can be enough stress in the school day to cause more than one heart attack.�
� He glanced at his wrist watch. “I need to talk with her class and make sure everyone’s okay. Just stop by the secretary’s desk. She’ll have a check for you. And, speaking of seriously, Ms. Maclin, I seriously hope you don’t find anything.”

  ***

  Before I left the school, I went back to the cafeteria to speak with Jacey. I asked her to tell me what had happened.

  “Mrs. Lever came out as always, lighting up her cigarette and griping about her class.”

  “And she smoked for a few minutes and then fell over?”

  “She went pale and clutched at her heart. Said it was beating too fast. Then she gasped real loud and collapsed. We didn’t know what to do except call for the principal.”

  “By ‘we’ you mean you and Mrs. Sigmon?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Sigmon had just come out.”

  “To smoke?”

  “No, she doesn’t smoke. She probably wanted to ask me about making some kind of dough for an art project. Beads, or something. We’d talked about it earlier.”

  “Did she say anything to Mrs. Lever?”

  “Just ‘Excuse me,’ so she could get by. Mrs. Lever took up more than her share of space. Then Mrs. Lever started carrying on, and when she fell, I didn’t know what to do. Mrs. Sigmon told me to call Mister Murphy while she started CPR.”

  “You called from where?”

  “There’s a phone just inside the door there. It’s usually Mrs. Lever and me this time of day, but it’s not like we were big buddies or anything. She never really talked to me. She just complained about her kids.”

  “Did she ever have trouble breathing, or seem disoriented?”

  “Just this one time. Kinda surprising when you figure she smoked whenever she could get the chance.”

  “So as far as you know, this was the first time she really had some difficulty?”

  Jacey nodded. “Mean as she was, I sure didn’t like to see her like that, though.”

  When the dismissal bell rang, I watched from the cafeteria as the students streamed out of their classrooms and out the doors. Mrs. Lever’s class was led by Mrs. Dorman. The children did not seem upset. They laughed and jostled each other as they bounded up the hall. Mrs. Dorman had the same pale strained expression she’d worn when she came to announce the bad news. I wanted to talk to her, but when I got outside, she was surrounded by students, all eagerly trying to get onto busses. I decided to wait until PTA.