It was time to add another dose of reality for Debbie to consider. “You know, Lee mentioned that you’ve been late for work on more than one occasion lately and that you’ve appeared distracted as well. I hope you realize that I am telling you this as a friend. You really need to address those issues if you plan on keeping that job.”
Debbie’s speech suddenly became much more animated. “I can explain all that. That’s what I wanted to tell you!”
“Go on,” he said, although he had no idea what she was about to reveal.
She took a deep breath as she knew that there would be no turning back once she started. “I was in the auditorium the morning that Eddie was killed.”
Chapter Sixteen
For a moment, Bishop felt frozen in place. He could not have been more flabbergasted had she said that she had been appointed as the next principal of Holy Trinity High School. His heart began to race as did his mind. What had she just said? Why had she waited until now to tell someone? She was there? What did that mean? Had she witnessed the murder? Had she committed the crime herself? He tried to marshal control as quickly as possible.
“I’m afraid that I don’t understand,” he said softly. If he had ever uttered a stronger understatement, he could not recall it.
Debbie patted the couch next to her as a signal for Max to jump up which he did effortlessly. She put her arms around the dog as he obligingly licked her face. Perhaps she had a moment of regret at having divulged her presence there that morning, but now that she had, she realized that there was no turning back. She continued to hold Max tightly as she began to explain. “I met him at the Blue Moon about a week after he got out of prison. We talked until closing time. It felt like he had not been gone at all, you know?” She added, “I told you that he had lived here for a while.” Bishop nodded. He thought it best that he let her tell the story the way she saw fit.
“Anyway, when I heard that they were looking for a janitor at school, I told him about it, and he got the job.” She smiled as she recalled that triumph. “I didn’t think that they’d hired an ex-con, but he didn’t exactly tell them, and they didn’t check either.” Bishop wasn’t surprised to hear of Sister Ann’s questionable decision-making abilities.
“Would you like some more tea?” she asked unexpectedly.
“No, thank you. Please continue.” Had she offered something stronger, he might have accepted.
“Well, we were talking about getting back together, and my hours and his hours weren’t exactly in sync, so he asked me to come in early so that we could talk, you know?”
Bishop thought that he did know what she meant; however, he still was confused. “I thought that Ed left work around 9 or 10 p.m.?”
“Yeah, but he missed the bus one time so he just slept on the couch down in the storage room. That gave him the idea, so he stayed a couple more times, and I came in early using the kitchen entrance. He told me about the trap door on the stage. That was so cool!”
He still was confused. “Why didn’t you just meet him here?”
She looked down as if she were embarrassed. “Well, I was still seeing somebody else, and I hadn’t made up my mind what to do.”
Bishop decided to let that part of the story pass. “You said you were there that morning. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
She closed her eyes briefly as she relived the moment. “When I got near the trap door, I heard voices coming from the room below, so instead of going down, I went back to the kitchen.” Tears came to her eyes as she spoke. “If I hadn’t been so afraid of being seen, Eddie might still be alive.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, and wiped her eyes. Sensing her distress, the dog pawed at her arm as if to remind her that he was still there. She gave him a hug. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Max?”
Bishop gave her a moment to collect her composure. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps if she had gone down there, Ed would still be alive. Yet, there was no point in thinking that way. He offered a different scenario. “You shouldn’t blame yourself, Debbie. It seems to me that there’s a good chance that if you went down there, you might have been killed as well.” She stroked Max as she thought about what Bishop had just said. It obviously was a possibility that she hadn’t considered. “I guess you’re right,” she said as she signaled for Max to get back on the floor.
“Do you mind if I ask a few more questions?”
“No. Go ahead.” She pulled her legs beneath her on the sofa, and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“How many voices did you hear?”
“Two. Eddie’s, of course, and one other man.” She seemed much more relaxed now.
“Were they talking or arguing?”
“Talking,” she replied without hesitation. Had they been arguing, she might have reacted differently.
“Did Ed sound inebriated?”
“Not really. Not that I noticed.”
“Did you recognize the other man’s voice?” he asked even though he was reasonably certain of her answer.
“No.”
“Would you recognize that voice if you heard it again?” Debbie scrunched her face as she considered how to respond to that unexpected question.
“I … guess so.” She paused as she placed herself once again near the opened trap door. “Yes, I can still hear him. I’m sure that I would recognize that voice.”
Even as an amateur sleuth, Bishop realized that an earwitness was not nearly as valuable as an eyewitness. Nevertheless, it was something. Although he still had a strong suspicion about Jack’s involvement, Debbie’s account seemed to eliminate Jack as the other man in the storage room that morning. “Do you remember what they were talking about?”
“They were talking about stocks and sales and stuff like that. Eddie really followed the market, and he talked about it all the time. I never much understood why, but he always read up on it, and he remembered everything. I guess he thought he’d be rich one day.” Thinking about him made her smile. “Oh!” she said suddenly as she remembered something else. “Eddie told me that he knew someone had been stealing from the school, and I told him to tell the principal. He told me he couldn’t do that because he’d get in trouble too. He told me that he’d handle it himself.” She looked at her friend and asked as if it had not previously occurred to her, “Do you think that’s what got him killed?”
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, Debbie. I really don’t know.”
***
He had only stayed at Debbie’s apartment for a few more moments. He thanked her for opening up to him, and she thanked him for dropping by and for the Italian pastries.
Bishop was listening to All Things Considered on NPR as he drove home. The story concerned a man who left his job as a bail bondsman and became a teacher. It was always good to hear a story about the importance of education. However, it was difficult for the veteran teacher to concentrate on the story. He had his own world of things to consider. Who was the other man whose voice Debbie heard on the morning of Ed Cooper’s death? Could it have been Jack? Perhaps she didn’t recognize his voice as it emanated from the storage room up into the empty stage area. The two men that Debbie heard had been discussing the stock market. Bishop couldn’t recall Jack ever discussing stocks, but that wouldn’t necessarily eliminate Jack as a suspect.
A number of nagging questions remained. One involved Ed’s comment that someone was stealing from the school. Stealing what? He knew of a series of recent thefts of cash from the girls’ locker room. Charlie Mitchell’s exam folder and his telephone cord were missing. Perhaps Debbie was right. Ed might have confronted the thief on his own and paid with his life. Yet, if Ed did know who was stealing, why didn’t he simply report that to the principal? How could he get in trouble for doing the right thing? On the other hand, what if Ed were the thief himself? He had told Debbie that he was expecting to come into some big money. If he wasn’t drunk, perhaps he intentionally had striped the parking lo
t the way he did as a parting shot to the school. Instead of Ed confronting a thief, maybe someone had confronted him.
As he pulled into his own driveway, one more troubling thought occurred to him. What, if anything, did the paper in Ed’s wallet with “Avignon 1868” written on it have to do with Ed’s death?
***
After a quick change of clothes, Bishop went into the sunroom and opened all of the windows to let in some fresh air. He watched as two hummingbirds engaged in aerial combat over the bright red feeder filled with sugar water that hung from a shepherd’s hook near the house. With a recording of “Opus No. 40 Two Polonaises” by Frederic Chopin playing in the background, he called Lieutenant Hodge and filled him in on his conversations with Hannah and with Debbie. Hodge, in turn, explained that he had failed in his attempt to talk with Ryan Baxter on the telephone, and that he planned on talking with him in person tomorrow.
Having had that filling pasta ciotti in the late afternoon, he didn’t want much for dinner which was just as well considering that his options were quite limited. He settled on a tuna salad sandwich and some carrot sticks which he ate while watching Jeopardy. When he noticed that one of the categories was “Shakespeare,” he played along and answered all of the questions correctly. Grace had often suggested that he audition to become a contestant on that program, but he knew that it was far easier to come up with the right answers when you were in your own home.
About an hour later, he had finished all of the work that he needed to do for his classes the next day. Having made little progress in solving the real life mystery surrounding the death of Ed Cooper, he decided to enter the fictional world of Donna Leon’s Commissario Brunetti as he unraveled yet another murder in Venice, the city of masks. He read only a few pages when his cell phone rang. It was Ron Jennings. Since their afternoon conversation had been abbreviated, Bishop assumed that Ron either wanted to discuss Frank’s suspension or that he was curious as to the reason for Hannah Ward’s visit to his classroom. Neither assumption turned out to be correct.
Bishop filled in the assistant principal on his conversation with Debbie. Ron was pleased that she planned on returning to work, but was troubled that she had not come forward sooner with the fact that she had been in the auditorium the morning of Ed’s murder and that the voice she heard was most likely that of the murderer.
“She was frightened and confused,” Bishop said in her defense. “Once she realized that his death was not an accident, she began to blame herself for not saying or doing something, and nothing productive can come of that. I’ve already relayed that information to Lieutenant Hodge, but I don’t expect that it will prove to be of any real use.”
“What do you make of that business about someone stealing from the school?”
Not wanting to admit that his first thought was that Jack might be involved, he said vaguely, “I’ve got a couple of ideas that I want to follow up on.”
Changing the subject, Ron asked, “Did you happen to talk with Terry at the end of the day?”
“No, I didn’t. I spoke with Hannah Ward for a while, and then I stopped by Debbie’s place.” Knowing of Ron’s keen interest in food, he didn’t want to sidetrack the discussion by mentioning the pasta ciotti that he had purchased at Siracusa’s. “Why do you ask?”
There was a moment of hesitation as Ron considered how to begin. “Just before the last period of the day, Erin Bradley was rushing to get to class, and she slipped and fell down some stairs.”
“Is she all right?” asked a concerned Bishop. He had taught Erin the previous year. She was sweet girl with a winning smile. Although she was quite bright, at this point in her life, socializing with her friends took priority over her studies. He wasn’t surprised that she might have been running late to class.
“Luckily, she was more than half way down the stairs when she fell. She has some bruises, and a sprained ankle. Nothing broken.”
“Glad to hear that,” said Bishop, “but what does that this have to do with Terry?”
“I’m getting to that,” replied Ron, realizing that he wasn’t doing a very good job of getting to the point. “Terry heard the commotion when Erin fell and rushed over to see if she could help. Erin was more embarrassed than hurt, but she couldn’t put pressure on that ankle. Just to be on the safe side, Terry asked one of the students to get a wheelchair from the nurse’s office.”
From the background noises that he heard, Bishop assumed that Ron was in his kitchen fixing himself a snack. He also assumed that there had to be more to the story, so he just waited for Ron to continue.
“Sister Ann came over to investigate the situation. Maybe she was worried that Erin’s parents would sue the school or something. Anyway, once Sister Ann showed up, Sister Pat was bound to follow.” Ron stopped again as he took a bite of whatever he had prepared. “Instead of showing a little compassion for the girl, Pat took one look at the heel of her shoes, blamed the fall on the fact that she was wearing illegal shoes, and gave her a detention on the spot.”
Bishop was disappointed, but not surprised, by the behavior of Sister Pat. However, he still didn’t understand where this story was headed. “And the connection to Terry is…?”
“Sorry. I’m getting to that. Shortly after the others arrived, Terry went back to the office. A call came in for Sister Ann who was with Erin. After taking down the message, she decided to put the memo on the principal’s desk. Well, you know Terry,” he said as he paused to swallow what he had been munching. “Knowing that the two nuns were pre-occupied, she took the opportunity to do a little snooping. She found a list with names on it.”
Bishop didn’t condone Terry’s tactics; nevertheless, his interest was piqued. “Was it a list of appointments for the day?”
“I can’t be positive, but I think that it’s a list of the teachers they plan to let go.”
His anger over their ill-conceived notion that that was the way to solve the school’s problems resurfaced. “I don’t want to know whose names are on that list,” he stated emphatically.
“Yes, you do,” said Ron in a forceful voice. “Your name is at the top of the list.”
Bishop took a moment to reflect. Once he had refused the principal’s request to convince the faculty to accept a salary freeze, he was fairly certain that his name would be added to such a list if one existed. What Terry found merely confirmed that suspicion. The administration had been waiting for him to retire for years. They could use the school’s financial difficulties to justify ridding themselves of someone they perceived as a threat to their autonomy. He was sure that the names of some of their other more vocal critics were also on that list.
“I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn’t worry about it. If it happens, it happens,” he said stoically. “I have a feeling that figuring out who killed Ed Cooper will solve some other problems as well.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Ron, trying to sound as optimistic as possible as he ended the call.
Bishop had given himself ten strikes to find the killer. He wondered how many he had left.
Chapter Seventeen
Bishop woke to the sounds of windswept rain pelting against his bedroom windows. He went about his usual routine in getting ready for another school day. If Sister Ann and Sister Pat had their way, this would be one of his last teaching days at Holy Trinity. He was determined not to let that prospect affect him. Living alone in a house with no mortgage meant that his expenses were relatively low. Financially, he was well prepared for retirement; psychologically, he was not. Over the years, he had been asked to teach at Summit Community College several times. If it came to that, he was certain that he could pick up a class or two as an adjunct instructor. He would also have the time to write that mystery novel that he had put off for so long.
By the time he sat down in the sunroom with his cup of Earl Grey tea, the rain had begun to let up. It was impossible to see his backyard clearly as drops of water clung to the screens. It was equally impossible to kn
ow whether his attempt to identify Ed’s killer would be successful. Regardless, he was determined to continue to pursue that goal. While Hodge questioned Ryan Baxter, he hoped to talk with Tim Kelleher, Jack Slater, and Elwin Crimins before the end of the day.
His opportunity to chat with Tim came sooner than expected. They both arrived at school at the same time, Tim driving a late model BMW coupe and Bishop in his old Toyota Corolla. Two other senior boys were with Tim. It had stopped raining, and small breaks in the clouds were visible. As they all converged on the main entrance, Bishop asked Tim if he had a few minutes. He explained in front of the others that he wanted to go over a few details of the project that his AP class was working on. Tim readily agreed to meet his teacher in his room after he stopped at his locker.
That gave Bishop just enough time to give Terry a thumbs up as he walked by the office, check his mailbox, and open up his classroom door and windows. By the time he had logged into his laptop, Tim was at the door.
“Come on in, Tim. Have a seat.”
Tim appeared his usual relaxed and confident self. He was probably thinking about the senior prom to be held later that night at the country club. Beyond that were graduation parties and the beginning of college life at Villanova. As a high honor roll student and as student council president, Tim had demonstrated the qualities that were likely to lead to a successful career in whatever field he chose. Bishop was about to find out whether honesty was among those qualities. He hoped that Hannah had kept her promise not to discuss their conversation with Tim.
Bishop leaned forward in his chair. “Tim, I know about your use of the trap door on the stage to get to the storage area below.”
The young man’s confident demeanor quickly faded, replaced by a look of puzzlement and worry. “I thought you wanted to talk about our class project?” he said timidly.
Schooled in Deception: A Michael Bishop Mystery Page 14