“Look, Mason, I’m just a guy trying to keep a job. Why hassle me?”
I didn’t get the sense that he was a killer. A liar, a closet case, a mild celebrity groupie, a party boy who wanted to get his rocks off whenever he could, but not a killer. “You’ll probably have to tell the police the truth at some point. When they piece together who the real killer is, they’ll need to have the whole sequence of events down clear.”
“It’s going to look bad that I lied?”
“Yep.”
He sighed. “This is too much. I wish I was straight. If I was straight, this never would have happened. If I get out of this okay, I’m going to find a closet and stay in it forever.”
“That would be unfortunate.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have much say in what I do to protect myself.”
“If you don’t want people to think you’re gay, I’d suggest a different tailor.”
“Why?”
I pointed at his iridescent gray vinyl pants with black polka dots. “The black silk shirt is suspicious, but you could probably get away with it. However, those pants scream, ‘I’m a faggot.’ I think they make you look very sexy, but the fashion police might want to interrogate you about them. I do know that if you wear them to school—straight or gay, the kids will think you’re a swish from the get-go.”
“You’re always so morally superior. Judging those of us who are more closeted than you. Don’t you ever get tired of it? You think you’re such hot shit. Who are you to get so high and mighty? Your lover’s been in one of the biggest closets in the country. You may be famous, but you and your lover have some of the same problems I do.” He began walking out.
His comment surprised and irritated me. “I’m only trying to help Meg,” I began, but he was gone. I reflected on what he’d said as I walked down the hallway. In my haste to protect myself and find the killer, had I stepped over the bounds of decency? I’d have to think about that later.
I found Georgette in the middle of a gaggle of secretaries near the school office.
“Have you talked to Carolyn?” she asked.
“Does she want to see me?”
Georgette motioned me aside. She lowered her voice. “Mavis thinks something odd is going on.”
Hard to put one over on old Mavis. A couple murders could bring out the oddness police.
“What do you mean?”
“People have been in and out of her office all day. The police, Lydia Marquez, the president of the school board.”
“They’re probably just discussing the case.”
“Maybe, but Mavis isn’t sure. Between every visit, Carolyn is on the phone. She left her office about an hour ago and didn’t say where she was going. I think you better find her and talk to her.”
“Why?”
Mavis Lukachevsky hurried up to us. “Have you heard? Someone claimed that Meg Swarthmore is in the district.”
“Where?” I asked.
“In her library. Working.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’s the latest rumor.”
12
I hurried to the library. No one was in the open area near the checkout desk. I approached Meg’s office but stopped when I heard raised voices. One was Meg’s. The other I realized after a moment was Carolyn’s.
Meg was saying, “I just came to get some personal things. I did not design this visit as a confrontation.”
“You can’t be here.”
“I’m leaving in a few moments. What has turned you into a raving loony, Carolyn? You were always more sensible than most.”
“I’ve been trying to remember the past,” Carolyn said. “I’ve been trying to piece together why there have been two murders.”
“And what have you come up with?”
“Each of the people has some connection to awful things that happened years ago. Some seem like fairly mild tawdry gossip, and I haven’t found something back then that could be lethal now.”
“And that insight leads you to conclude …”
“I don’t know.” Carolyn paused, then said, “You know Belutha was hit with Smith’s Comprehensive Encyclopedia?”
The killer had to be somebody who had easy access to the schools and wouldn’t be regarded as suspicious.
“Someone got in here again?” Meg asked.
“And took the book and brought it over to the new school,” Carolyn said.
“Anybody can get into this school until late. There’s some kind of activity here almost every night and on weekends. Even you, Carolyn, have a lot of easy access.”
The school’s alarm system works only after all extracurricular and community activities are done, which is sometimes not until after midnight. That explained how easy it was to get into Grover Cleveland, but wouldn’t there have been a gauntlet to go through to get into the new school? We didn’t have security guards or metal detectors before this, and usually such devices aren’t put in to protect a building after hours. Mostly they’re set up during the day to keep kids from hurting each other.
“The police are checking phone records,” Carolyn said. “Belutha started making a lot of phone calls after nine o’clock last night. The police are tracking down who all those were to, and they’re going to talk to everybody.”
“She didn’t call me.”
“They think she may have received some calls as well. She has call waiting, so she wouldn’t have missed an incoming.”
“So what if she received calls?” Meg asked.
“That they were the night she was murdered probably has significance.”
“Why’d she make the calls?”
“The police aren’t sure. The five-year-old said there was a mysterious visitor yesterday evening.”
I wondered if it wasn’t about time to hie myself to my lawyer to make sure they didn’t accuse me of something, but I wanted to hear all this, and I wanted to see Meg, and I wanted to interrogate Carolyn.
“Why don’t we talk about you as a possible suspect?” Meg said.
“I beg your pardon.”
“Carolyn, there are no secrets around here. You’ve been part of this district a long time. You’ve been in the thick of fights.”
“That comes with the job.”
“You’ve lived here for many years. You always act like you’re so far above it all, but that hatred around here hasn’t missed you. I’ve thought about you and the past as well.”
“What does that mean?”
“Carolyn, you’ve known Jerome for years. As a teacher, as a low-level administrator, as his principal, and as his superintendent. You were close many years ago.”
“We haven’t been for years.”
“And why is that?”
“People drift apart.”
“Something happened many years ago. I’ve been trying to piece it together. I called my old friend Agnes Davis to ask about it. She vaguely recalls you took several graduate classes with him.”
“We used to drive to De Paul together, so what?”
“Maybe you were more discreet than most.”
“Save your baseless suspicions for someone who cares.”
“Nobody suspects you of murder, Carolyn, because you’re the above-it-all superintendent. An old affair gone sour might make an interesting motive for murder.”
I’d only heard Meg turn on a friend like this once before, and that was me in the corridor of the courthouse.
Meg was still speaking. “You knew all these people. You weren’t in their churches, so that isn’t the connection. Were you trying to influence the union election? Trying to get in a candidate who was favorable to you or easy to deal with? Did you get secret calls from Jerome?”
“I talked to both candidates. I always do. I can’t believe you’re trying to make something out of such nothing.”
“What did Jerome promise? Or maybe he struck you as a nitwit and you figured you could manipulate him the easiest. Then when he wasn’t amenable to your suggestions, you bashed him.”
“What for? I have no motive.”
“What happened all those years ago? Were you lovers?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I’m real curious to see the relationship between all the players.”
“There is no relationship.” For the first time since I’d known her, Carolyn’s voice sounded with a tremor … of what? Fear? Deep emotion about something.
“No?” Meg said. “I imagine there is. I don’t know if the police are going to follow up any of this. With the second murder they might have to. Unless they try to pin it on me.”
“Maybe they should.” Carolyn sounded spiteful and mean.
“I have no alibi for last night. The cops checked. I was at home. Alone. How about you, Carolyn? Do you have a rock-solid alibi?”
“You shouldn’t have come here today, Meg. You’re obviously overwrought. I suggest you go home. Let’s let a little time pass before we decide on your future.”
“Until you came in here today, I thought we were friends. You won’t have to worry about my coming back to work. I’ve written out my resignation.”
I said, “Please don’t quit.”
I stepped into the room. They both turned to me, and each gave me a distinctly annoyed look.
“We’re having a private conversation,” Carolyn said.
“I’ve wanted to talk to both of you about the murder.”
“And we’ve wanted to speak to you.” We all turned at this new voice. Baxter Dickinson, the River’s Edge detective, stood in the doorway. We all gave him distinctly annoyed looks. This did not make him disappear in a puff of smoke.
He called over his shoulder, “They’re in here.”
Moments later he was joined by his partner, Leonard Rosewald. He said, “Mr. Mason, if you could follow us, we have a few questions to ask you.”
There wasn’t any point in fighting about it. I trailed after them to the science office. No one sat out in the corridor waiting to be talked to.
Rosewald began, “Mr. Mason, we understand that you met with Mrs. Muffin last night.”
I didn’t bother to carry on about “how did they find out” or make nonsensical comments about demanding my rights. I started with everything Lydia Marquez had told me and finished with my visit to Belutha.
“What time did you leave Mrs. Muffin’s house?”
“About nine.”
“You have any proof of that?”
“My lover can tell you what time I got home.”
“I saw you guys on television,” Dickinson said. “I’ve seen Scott Carpenter pitch a few times. I’m not so sure how interested I am now in seeing him play.”
“That’s because you started betting on baseball games, and he cost you money,” Rosewald said. “I told you betting on baseball had the worst probability statistics and predictability of any sport.”
“Can we get on with it?” I asked.
“You in a hurry?”
“I want to talk to Meg.”
“We’ve tried talking to her once about this new murder. Your lawyer has her well trained. She said nothing. We’ll be talking to her again with her lawyer present if necessary. Right now we’re concerned about you.”
“I need to go.” I got up and walked toward the door. “You’d arrest me except you’ve traced her movements after I left her.”
Dickinson nodded. “But you may need to go with us to the station,” he said. “Do you want to talk there or here?”
“Look, try those NYPD Blue tricks on someone else.”
On that show, they would seldom solve a case if the people they brought in for questioning simply exercised their right to demand a lawyer. With their mixture of bullying and wheedling, the cops on the show convinced many a poor sap to give himself up. I knew I didn’t have to stay.
“We need to go over your statement,” Dickinson said.
“With my lawyer present from this point on. Good-bye.” They did not shoot me in the back for trying to escape.
I’d wasted half an hour with them. No one was in the library. I walked over to the district office. Mavis told me Carolyn had put out the word that she wanted to talk to me.
I sat in her office. She barely glanced in my direction. She drummed her fingers on her desk. “How long were you listening to Meg and me?”
“Long enough to hear you both accuse each other of having possible motives for murder based on something that happened in the past. After listening to you and Meg, I’m not sure who or what to believe. As an administrator, you’ve been decent, but as a friend, Meg’s been wonderful.”
“She didn’t look like she wanted to talk to you.”
“No, she didn’t,” I admitted.
“We could do this as a trade. I give you information, you give me information.”
Lydia and me, Belutha and me, Carolyn and me—all sharing—I could have my own personal support group.
I said, “We can try it.”
“Why did the police want to talk to you?”
“I was the mystery person who was at Belutha’s house.”
“Why did you go there?”
“Lydia Marquez gave me a tip about the fights among the three friends. I wanted to follow it up.”
“Who fought?”
While I wasn’t sure who I trusted at the moment, I wanted information, and if I had to give some to get it, fine. The police knew everything I was going to say already.
I gave her the information I’d gleaned about Lydia, Belutha, and Jerome.
“I’m surprised,” Carolyn said. “I never knew any of this.”
“Really?” The doubt in my voice approached the sarcastic.
“Tom, we’ve gotten along well, but I don’t think you should try and take advantage of that.”
“You said it yourself when you saw your name on the chart. You’d go after everybody. That’s what I’m doing. Why were you and Meg fighting? I thought you were friends.”
“Does a superintendent every really have friends?”
“Yeah, I think a superintendent can have friends. There’s no need to hunker down in an office and pretend the world is out to get you. Did you really talk to Jerome and Seth about the election?”
“You must have eavesdropped on nearly the whole conversation.”
“Yes. Remember, we were going to trade information? It’s your turn.” Was she going to go back on her word? “You said you had information for me.”
“I did talk to both Jerome and Seth. If I can see a way of easing relations between the district and the union, I’m interested.” She gave me a grim smile. “Here’s a tip for you. Either one of those two would have been bad for the union. They both quite cheerfully promised to give away the store.”
“Why to you?”
“I’m not really sure. I think they were planning to use me in their campaigns.”
“What on earth for? An endorsement from the superintendent can’t have much effect in a union election.”
“Yes, but they didn’t seem to know that. It seemed very important for them to curry favor with me, although that Seth is totally blind to anything but his transfer policy. He wanted to make all the teachers in the district rotate assignments.”
“Is he nuts?”
“I think he’d give up tenure for all the teachers and half the salary raises of the past twenty years, just to get his way.”
“What’s the background with you and them?”
“Seth I don’t know. While I was working on my doctorate, Jerome was taking some administrative classes. We drove to school together for a couple semesters. We became friends of sorts. We talked about religion sometimes. I even attended his church once or twice, but I couldn’t get into their intensity or fervor. He seemed disappointed, but not heartbroken. That was it. We drifted apart after that.”
“That hardly seems a terrible secret that needs to be withheld at the price of politeness and friendship.”
“Proving the absence of an affair is nearly impossible. Meg was snarling
at me from the moment I entered her office.”
“Why?”
“I asked her. She told me to leave her alone.”
“That is so not like her.”
“Yes.”
“Were you supposed to talk to Jerome the night of the PTA meeting?”
“I was going to meet with both of them.”
“Did you?”
“As you know, things got out of hand. I had no time.”
Carolyn could help no more. I left.
I hunted for Meg but didn’t find her. When I asked Georgette if she had seen her, Georgette looked hurt. “She turned her back on me and walked away.”
“I’m sure she’s still too upset to talk,” I said. “When things calm down, she’ll be thinking more clearly.” After spending a few more minutes reassuring Georgette, I wandered to my classroom.
I entered warily. I stood at the door and checked as best I could the placement of everything. Nothing seemed out of order. So far so good. I stepped farther into the room. I saw a note taped to the top of the computer monitor. I opened it with the tips of my fingers touching it only at the edges. It was from Rita Fleming. She had fixed my computer. I turned it on. It hummed pleasantly to itself. I tried several CDs and the hard drive. Everything seemed perfectly normal.
I tried sitting at my desk. No tacks on the chair. I leaned my elbows on the desk. It crashed to the floor. If this was a comedy sketch, this would be the funny part. I wasn’t laughing. Papers covered the floor past the first row of student desks. My coffee cup had spilled its cold contents on a stack of computer disks. While I fumed, I began cleaning the mess.
Moments later the door burst open. It was Kurt.
“Somebody said there was a terrible noise down here.” He pointed to the desk. “What is that?”
I held up one of the legs. It had been sawed off and replaced under the desk, as had the other three.
Kurt chuckled.
I still wasn’t up to the humor of the situation. Kurt, seeing my displeasure, tried to stifle his mirth. He helped me pick up the papers that had scattered when the desk fell. I checked the drawers. They were empty. I no longer had tape, grading pencils, thumbtacks, paper clips, masking tape, overhead markers, and a hundred other little items.
“I’ve been cleaned out.”
Are You Nuts? Page 16