Schooled in Murder

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Schooled in Murder Page 16

by Zubro, Mark Richard


  Scott said, “But they can’t discriminate. That’s illegal.”

  Abbot said, “They’re trying to get Tom accused of murder–at the very least, ruin your reputation.”

  I said, “Do they teach being a moronic bully in some administrative class at some university?”

  Meg said, “Probably only at the PhD level.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Scott said, “Remember what Larry Kramer said in that recent speech? They all hate us.”

  “But everyone doesn’t,” I said.

  “But these people do,” Abbot said. “They really do.”

  I said, “They’re the bosses. They have power over me.”

  “But that’s not how they see it,” Abbot said. “They are angry because they can’t make you respect them.”

  “I don’t respect them.”

  “Exactly. They know you have disdain for them. They feel that spreads among the staff and hurts their power over them. If you can disdain them, ignore them, not take them seriously, laugh at them, they don’t have power over you, and they have less power over the others. It’s that way with lots of bosses.”

  “I guess I knew some of these things, sort of,” I said, “but I’m seldom aware of them on a conscious level, certainly not of how much of a danger Bochka, Graniento, Spandrel, and Towne are to me.”

  The assistant superintendent said, “They are a distinct danger. They planned to come up with every suspicion possible they could about you and give it to the police.”

  “Were there a lot of those?”

  “They didn’t let me in on the final meetings. I’m in on many of them, but not all. They think I’m one of them. I’ve never spoken up against what they do. I’m a coward.”

  I said, “Friday night before I had a confrontation with Spandrel and Bochka, Spandrel was fighting with someone. I couldn’t tell who it was.”

  “Graniento, the principal. I don’t know what was going on, but there is now some kind of bad blood between them.”

  I wished I knew what that was. I asked, “Has Bochka met with the suckups?”

  “They all meet and plan together. Eberson, Higden, Pinyon, Schaven, Spandrel, Bochka, Towne, Graniento. They are endlessly plotting. Even when something could be done simply, they come up with convoluted methods of doing things and complex ways to implement them.”

  Scott asked, “Were the teachers in on plotting to get Tom accused of murder?”

  “Except for the teacher who actually told, I don’t think so.”

  “That had to be one of the people you just mentioned.” “Probably, but not necessarily,” she said. “Any non-tenured teacher they could bully would do.”

  “They’re nuts,” Scott said.

  “Why are you coming to me now?” I asked. “What happened after we talked Friday morning?”

  “They want you fired. They will tell any lie. This is a further warning.”

  “Maybe I should assume your meeting with me is part of their conspiracy.”

  She drew back and breathed hard for several moments. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “Will you help me expose them?”

  “I can’t. I’ll lose my job.”

  I said, “I won’t stoop to their level. I’m not going to threaten to tell them you told me if you don’t help me. I won’t. I promise. You’ve tried to help, but I’m not like them. I won’t become like them.”

  Abbot said, “Maybe you’ll have to, to win. I wanted to warn you to help my own conscience.”

  “But your conscience doesn’t go so far as to try to expose them or put a stop to them?” Meg asked.

  “If there was a way to do it without me losing my job, I’d do it. I swear I would.”

  I asked, “How did this get started?”

  “Bochka began it.”

  I said, “She’s already an all-powerful school board president. What more does she want?”

  “But don’t you see?” Abbot said. “She isn’t all-powerful. That’s one of the things that pisses her off.”

  Meg said, “Does she want tanks and guns and torture and prisons? The board does her bidding in a heartbeat. How is she not all-powerful?”

  Abbot said, “She keeps making promises to her friends in the community. One parent or a group comes to her, and Bochka makes a promise to get a thing done. Then another group comes, and she makes a different promise to them. Sometimes it doesn’t make a difference who she promises what to, but sometimes the promises are contradictory or just silly or stupid. Towne, as superintendent, gets driven nuts. Bochka calls and gives a command, and Towne is supposed to obey. We all are. I have heard that her style has finally begun to catch up with her. She may have a lot of opposition in the next school board election. She’s petrified of that. She’s worried about losing her position.”

  “But it’s only a small district,” I said. “Why does she care so much?”

  “She’s ambitious. I’ve heard her talk about running for the state legislature. Her ego is involved. She’s been a part of this community for thirty years. The funny thing is, I’m not sure she knows what she wants. She mostly waits to react negatively and pick at people. Why do you think some teachers haven’t gotten tenure and others have? Why do you think Jourdan has had so much trouble the past few years? Word came down from on high, and she’s as high as it gets in this district. One of the few people she hasn’t been able to cow or intimidate or make miserable is you.”

  “Should I be honored?” I asked.

  “Very frightened,” she replied.

  Meg asked, “How did you get involved?”

  Abbot said, “I got dragged in by Towne. She said she wanted witnesses. I assume to protect herself in some way. She made no objections to any of the proposed schemes. Bochka has hated you for years. Probably since your first public appearance as an openly gay man. That woman would connive at anything. She is mean-spirited and vicious. She’s got a political agenda behind everything she does. I don’t blame her husband for divorcing her. She is vile.”

  “If it’s so awful,” I asked, “why don’t you go to another district?”

  “I’ve been trying. I’ve only been here a year. It looks odd if you switch jobs after being in one for such a short time. I can’t wait to get out and find a place where real professionals are in charge.”

  I said, “I appreciate your coming to me.”

  “You’re not going to say anything?”

  “I said I wouldn’t, and I always keep faith.”

  Meg said, “What do you know about the cheating on the state test results?”

  Abbot now began to sweat. She leaned forward and whispered. “We are in so much shit. It’s not just test results. They’ve been faking graduation rates. They’ve been changing grades.”

  “´They’ who?”

  “All of us. They’ve ordered me to. I had no choice but to comply. Administrators don’t have tenure. These people are ruthless. You know what happens if they don’t keep the test scores and the graduation rates up and meet all the guidelines?”

  I said, “Not much, as far as I can see.”

  “Oh, but yes. Among administrators and on the board it is a big deal. They compare themselves to other districts. And parents go nuts and call to complain about their kids not doing well.”

  One of the great lies we’d been told when the new state testing system came out was that the test results would never be used to compare districts or kids.

  I said, “The parents could always vote for a referendum. Their kids would get a better quality education.”

  Abbot said, “They don’t see a direct connection between a new school and higher scores.”

  I said, “It’s new textbooks. It’s better, more up-to-date computers. Did you know one of the science textbooks they use still talks about going to the moon someday?”

  Abbot said, “I don’t believe that.”

  “I’ve read the passage,” Meg said.

  Abbot said, “Parents won’t budge. It’s
like they’re spending their own money in the middle of the Great Depression. They just won’t do it, and they will do anything to protect their low taxes.”

  Our district was notorious for having the second lowest per-pupil spending among K—12 districts in the state of Illinois. What did they think was going to happen when they didn’t spend any money?

  I asked, “Is there some kind of investigation going on?”

  “People from the state have been in looking at records. Teachers aren’t supposed to know how to get into the program, but someone’s been leaking information. Bochka and the rest are desperate to find out who. They think it’s you or one of your friends.”

  I wasn’t about to reveal the actual source. I said, “I’ve helped a couple teachers who were interested in learning the system. I’ve taught them password controls. We came in before school started last summer.”

  “They better not find that out,” Abbot said. “You’ll be blamed for that and everything else. If there’s a union problem, then it’s Tom Mason’s fault. If a teacher disagrees, then it’s Tom Mason who put them up to it.”

  “I don’t,” I said.

  “But you listen to people. And both factions listen to you. You’ve had more effect on the teachers’ lives in the past few years than these administrators. They hate that. They hate your influence. They hate your untouchability. Do not underestimate their hatred.”

  “Who exactly is doing all this hating?”

  “Graniento, Spandrel, Towne, Bochka, and I don’t know how many of the teachers in the suckup faction, but my guess is at least three or four. The teachers in general do respect you.”

  “Do you have proof of the cheating?” I asked.

  Abbot said, “I kept detailed records and logs of times and dates of what I did. I kept printouts before I made changes and after I made changes. I haven’t told anyone that. I’ve made backup copies. If they try to harm me, they will never find all the copies, and my husband has orders about what to do if something happens to me. He’s furious. He says that if I’m in real, physical danger, I should go to the police, or I should quit.”

  Meg said, “I’d think about that seriously. Murder has been done.”

  Abbot said, “These people are dangerous. These people are insane. If I could find a way out, I’d take it.”

  34

  Scott and I checked in with Frank Rohde to make sure he wasn’t out on a case. As the new guy in the rotation, he had to work most Sundays. I asked about my car. They didn’t know when I would get it back.

  Frank greeted us warmly. A few cops at the desk recognized Scott. He signed autographs. I wanted to tell Frank what I’d learned and find out from him what the police knew. If he told me anything, I had no intention of revealing it to those disparate factions who’d asked desperately for me to get them information.

  Rohde said, “I used to spend Sundays with the kids. I’m not sure this is such a good thing. Pay is better.”

  We chatted briefly, then I filled him in on what I knew. As I spoke, the only thing I left out was Abbot’s name. I ended with the big question. “Who told Gault and Vulmea that I was outside that door at 4:45? That is not true. I was petrified I’d be arrested.”

  “It’s your word against your accuser. They do need confirmation from at least one more person. They don’t have a second person. It’s tough to get two people to tell the exact same lie.”

  I said, “I’ve seen it happen.”

  “Maybe they haven’t worked it out,” Scott said. “Yet.”

  Rohde said, “They can’t keep coming up with a string of witnesses at their convenience. It looks too odd. ´Oh, by the way, I was there, too, saw the same thing, and decided not to say anything because I didn’t think you were interested.’ ”

  Scott said, “I can imagine one of them saying that kind of thing.”

  Rohde said, “But it’s got to be believable.” “You really don’t know?” I asked.

  He gazed at me evenly. We’d been friends for a number of years. We’d done some good things with a lot of tough kids. We’d had some spectacular failures. But he was a cop and I was a civilian. Had I gone too far? He said, “Tom, if I knew and I told you, what would you do?”

  “I’d be pissed. I’d want to confront whoever it was.”

  “And what would that accomplish?”

  “I’d know who was trying to frame me. I’d know who to avoid. I could fight back.”

  “How? What could you say?”

  “I’d ask him why.”

  Frank asked, “And if he told you he did it because he hated you, what have you gained?”

  “The knowledge that an evil person knows I know they are an evil person.”

  Scott said, “If they cared about that, do you think they would have lied in the first place?”

  I thought about that for several moments, then said, “I guess not.”

  Frank asked, “Could you stay calm?”

  After another hesitation, I said, “I’d hope I’d be able to.” I glanced at Scott. “I think I could. Maybe.” Scott put his hand on my arm for a moment. I said, “I’m not sure what would happen.”

  Frank said, “All that lying trying to get you in trouble has actually been to your benefit. That many lies nobody can believe. They also have to be believable lies. Something odd is going on at that school.”

  I said, “They’re frightened and frightening people.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “I’m not sure. Looking bad?”

  Scott said, “Their egos are caught up in their jobs to an unhealthy degree. They’ve got a passion for all the incorrect things in education. If they had that kind of passion for kids, I bet they’d be great.”

  Frank said, “I’ll try to help any way I can. Conspiring against you is bad, but they’ve done nothing provable so far that I can arrest them for. They’re rotten, but so far, not criminal. I think it should make you very wary, but you are that already. If they were sane people, I’d tell you to sit down and talk to them.”

  “I’ll be calling the union president tonight to fill her in. The shit is going to hit the fan. I’m worried for people’s physical safety. We’ve had two murders already.”

  Frank said, “That assumes at least one of the people at the school committed one or both murders.”

  “I assume they all could.” Unbidden into my imagination came a scene near the end of the movie A Shot in the Dark: Peter Sellers, as Inspector Clouseau, confronts all the suspects and attempts to explain the murder. It’s the best comic-crime-resolution scene ever. Then all the suspects get blown up with a bomb Clouseau’s boss planted in Clouseau’s car. It turns out all the suspects were killers except one who was a blackmailer. The one his boss suspected, who does not get in the car, was innocent. Frankly, at that moment the ending of the movie was a pleasant thought. All of the rotten conniving people jammed into one car and getting blown up. An appealing picture. But sane adults don’t think these things. Well, actually, they do, it’s just that we don’t act on them. I wasn’t ready to go to jail for murdering any of these people. They weren’t worth it.

  I said, “Did they find out anything about Eberson having an affair with a student?”

  “They have no confirmation on that. The source says it was an anonymous tip and they’ve given it no credence. The husband went nuts when it was suggested. He seems to have genuinely loved his wife. Gault said the three older boys were in tears. The littlest one is still a baby.”

  “That is sad,” I said. “Poor little kids.”

  Rohde said, “Right now, we have nothing we can tell the family. We have no suspects.”

  I asked, “Why did they take Mabel Spandrel to the police station that first night?”

  “As far as I can tell, it was excessive zeal mixed with missteps by Spandrel. At first she said she had no witnesses to where she was. By the time they got her to the station, she had several witnesses.”

  I said, “She lied and got the others to lie.”
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br />   “If she did, they were convincing enough. Gault and Vulmea couldn’t shake their story.”

  “Who gave her the alibi?”

  “I don’t have the names.”

  “I know who,” I said. “Or I can make a good guess.” I told him the names.

  He said, “I can try and check that for you. I can’t interfere with their case. Sometimes it was easier being a plain old detective.”

  We discussed the argument I’d seen between Graniento and Spandrel and Abbot’s comment that it was a sharp disagreement of some kind but that she didn’t know about what.

  I said, “Maybe they’re starting to turn on each other.”

  Rohde said, “If there is some kind of conspiracy, maybe it’s starting to unravel. That’s actually kind of a lot of people to trust to keep their mouths shut. The more who know about something, the possibility increases exponentially of someone telling.”

  I said, “We got rumors that Peter Higden gambled a lot.”

  “Gault has that as well. So far we’ve got respectable bookies who never heard of Peter Higden.”

  I added, “And the PE coaches were double dipping.” I explained.

  Rohde said, “That doesn’t sound like a motive for murder.”

  I said, “It’s a pattern of things done on the sly. Things that aren’t seriously illegal, or seriously immoral, just skating on the edge of getting away with–”

  “Murder,” Frank said.

  “Did they get any information about the hate notes Pinyon reported getting?”

  “Nothing useful. Pinyon says he got them, but other people said he might have done them himself. I don’t understand these people.”

  “Join the club,” I said.

  Scott asked, “Did they get any results on what killed Eberson and Higden?”

  Rohde said, “Yeah. Someone held that eraser in her mouth until she stopped breathing. It was wedged surprisingly far into her throat. Somebody was pretty angry, pretty strong, or both. Higden was run over with his own car.”

 

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