The Final Step

by Ridley Pearson

  Lexie wrapped her arms around me, probably less to do with comforting me and more like self-preservation on her part.

  I was sobbing.

  CHAPTER 61

  JAMES PLACED HIMSELF WITH HIS BACK TO THE wall alongside the auditorium’s two sets of double doors. A matter of a few yards to his left were the stairs leading to the balcony, one option for a quick escape should the grown-ups enter.

  “You would rather not enter,” James heard Ralph say.

  “You’ve already said that, and I told you to step aside.” Crudgeon.

  “What you don’t see and what you don’t hear about, cannot be held against you in a court of law, Headmaster. I beg you to reconsider.”

  “You’re saying laws are being broken. This is my school!”

  Ralph asked respectfully that Mrs. Furman be dismissed. The headmaster did as Ralph asked. James stood there trying to make sense of Ralph being able to boss around Headmaster Crudgeon and what that might mean in terms of Ralph’s rank in the Scowerers. It also caused James to realize Crudgeon had apparently not been surprised to see Ralph, a man James had presumed—no, confirmed—dead.

  Ralph spoke quietly. “The individual inside is extremely likely the head of a certain European organization whose interests run counter to our own.”

  “You brought such a man here?” Crudgeon said irritably.

  “I did not, Headmaster.”

  “Oh, I see. You mean . . . ?”

  “Yes.”

  “Extraordinary.”

  “Yes.”

  “Here? Why?”

  “I will find out for us,” Ralph said. “It appears . . . that is, they needed the stage. They’ve replicated a room. A place. I can’t be certain. That’s how it looks.”

  “They?”

  “Yes.”

  “Extraordinary,” Crudgeon repeated, sounding in awe. “Replicated?”

  “Honestly, it looks like something they probably saw in a film. Television, maybe. But they’ve done quite a thorough job of it. I don’t think you want to know more than that: some students misusing the stage for some kind of prank. Plausible deniability. If Mr. Lowry were alive we could ask him. But then again, my sense of things is that his death may be what has brought us to this point. James is a dog with some bite, Headmaster.”

  James shuddered with the compliment.

  “And so he should be.”

  “Yes,” said Ralph.

  “Impressive.”

  “It is.”

  “I should leave.”

  “I think it best for all. Best for the society.” Ralph meant the Scowerers. He knew Crudgeon would do whatever was necessary to protect the Scowerers.

  “You’ll brief me,” Crudgeon said.

  “In your capacity as headmaster? Only if necessary. For now, you can tell Mrs. Furman that some students were using the auditorium to rehearse and that I convinced you to look the other way. That overachievement was not a punishable offense.”

  Again, James was struck how Ralph spoke with such authority to Headmaster Crudgeon.

  “Very well,” Crudgeon said.

  “How was it you were informed?” Ralph asked.

  “I was told there was a Pargo missing,” he said, referring to the campus golf carts. “That security had found it parked behind the auditorium. I thought some students were taking joy rides. Nothing much to do about it. But up close, security saw some light coming from the auditorium. That suggested the blackout curtains, and that I wanted to see for myself.”

  “A member of the faculty intervened,” Ralph said.

  “You? Faculty? God help us.”

  Ralph pushed open the door, walked past James without seeing him.

  “You let me believe I’d killed you,” James said in a choked whisper. He’d slid down the wall, propped on his haunches.

  Ralph turned. He also spoke softly, to keep the man in the room on stage from hearing. “A cruel and horrible thing for me to do. I suspect you’ll never forgive me. All I can say is that it had nothing to do with protecting me, and everything to do with protecting you and Moria. I don’t expect you to believe that, even after I explain, but it’s true. Sadly, now’s not the time. I told you to hide, and I meant it, James. You’re not to witness what comes next. Certainly not Moria. Not any of you. You’re to get them all back to their dorms. School protocol will require the headmaster to order a room check. This all has to go into the books properly to protect the society. It means Espiranzo and I must act very quickly to make use of the good work you’ve done.”

  “I outrank you,” James said, testing. He wasn’t sure of this.

  “Indeed. It’s true. You’re the governor. The final choice is yours, if that’s how you want it.”

  “That’s how I want it,” James said strongly.

  “And I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I’ll do it your way,” James said.

  “Glad to hear that as well.”

  “I will monitor it. Alone. I won’t record anything. Are you going to hurt him?”

  “We’re going to establish a dialogue, you might say.”

  “You won’t kill him. Not here.”

  “Of course not. Not our way. That’s for them, the Meirleach. Not our way unless it can’t be helped.”

  “Colander’s one of them,” James said.

  “Aye. He’s one of the Meirleach’s command. It took you to ferret him out. Well done.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “I will be, in about twenty minutes,” Ralph said, sounding sad and disappointed. “This isn’t a part of the job any man should enjoy.”

  “No.”

  “Why this?” Ralph pointed to the stage.

  “It’s a room in Hildebrandt’s basement. I doubt Colander’s ever been there, but in case he knew about it . . .”

  “A wise choice.” James could see Ralph was thinking. He waited for the man to speak. “That will require a different tack. Pay no attention to my lies, James. They are a means to an end, that is all. If they sound convincing then I’m doing my job correctly. Understood?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ralph put his hand onto James’s shoulder. “This is a side of me I’d rather you didn’t see.”

  “I have to know about Father,” James said.

  “And so you shall. But I will need something from you.”

  “Okay?” James sounded tentative.

  “Your phone, and a quick lesson on how to use it.”

  CHAPTER 62

  “YOU?” COLANDER’S GHOSTLY EXPRESSION WAS understandable. James had felt the same way upon seeing Ralph upright and breathing. Watching the monitor and listening in on headphones, James felt a world away instead of a matter of yards. He’d made me and Claudette wait backstage, from where we only heard parts of conversations. We strained, each gathering different bits.

  “Me.”

  “Where am I?”

  “At the end of the line,” Ralph said.

  “You working for Hildebrandt? I don’t believe it,” Colander said.

  “I could say the same thing.” Ralph allowed the man to believe he’d betrayed Father. “Did you really think we—he—would make an alliance with our chief rival?”

  “You and the woman, Lois Agnew? You both were his agents?”

  Lois? I nearly screamed! Suddenly her conversation with Hildebrandt on the video, the night of Father’s “accident,” made sense. My drinking a hot chocolate that had put me to sleep and nearly drowned me months before.

  “Who do you think kept tabs on Moriarty for him?” Ralph played to the one-way glass as if addressing Hildebrandt on the other side. James understood immediately that it wasn’t Ralph’s first interrogation. “He needed someone inside. Who would he choose?”

  “You? What you suggest is not possible.”

  “Because Lois was your contact? Lois, who let you into the house once the video had been compromised.” Ralph paused, clearly hoping Colander might confess. Nothing. “Lois, who arranged the robbe
ry and took a bruised face to keep suspicion off herself? You think I didn’t know about that?”

  Colander shook his head. “Not possible.”

  “Do you think Mr. Hildebrandt would rely upon a single source, a single spy? He ran the FBI, Colander. You think he’s stupid?” Ralph looked at the mirrored window again, making Colander think Hildebrandt was watching. Listening. “He used you to do the dirty work. To take out Moriarty. But you betrayed him.”

  “Not true!”

  “The Meirleach meeting with Moria Moriarty off campus? That was not part of the agreement.”

  “Unplanned, I assure you.”

  “Mr. Hildebrandt would like to know the meaning of that meeting. All that was said.”

  “A coincidence seeing her there. Nothing more.”

  “You have been playing the role of a detective, Colander. How many detectives believe in coincidence?”

  “It was nothing.”

  “To you, perhaps. To us, you went too far. You violated the agreement. Do you know what happens when one violates such an agreement?”

  He swore. “I kept my part of the agreement!”

  James held his breath. I held my breath. Ralph had zeroed in on our father’s “accident.”

  “Do I need to remind you of that agreement?”

  Colander spoke to the mirrored glass, imagining Hildebrandt on the other side. “You wanted Moriarty gone. We wanted him gone. ‘Common interests,’ you said. This is—” Another swear word. “I didn’t question your motives. I carried out my part of the agreement!”

  Colander had just confessed to the killing.

  Colander hollered at the glass. “Come out from behind there and face me yourself! You’re a coward!”

  Ralph slapped him across the face, as any employee of Hildebrandt’s would. “Respect, my friend. Tell us about the girl. Why the meeting with the girl?”

  “I . . . she was . . . It’s her brother. The attorney Lowry. There’s evidence against”—Colander pointed at the mirror—“you! All of you. I warned the girl to tell her brother to stop. That’s all. A warning.”

  “When the Scowerers hear it was you who killed Moriarty, where do you suppose that will leave you?”

  Colander didn’t like the question. He also didn’t contradict Ralph’s accusation. “We have an agreement.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “Mr. Hildebrandt promised we would block the security video for you?” Ralph chuckled to himself. “That’s what he told you, wasn’t it?”

  Colander looked concerned and tense.

  “He played you. You must have expected that such a thing was possible.”

  “Nice try.” He sounded arrogant as he explained to the window. “We both recorded our agreement. Have you forgot—?”

  A sneeze echoed through the auditorium. Colander sat up, alarmed not only by the sneeze but the sound of it. Both were wrong for a small interrogation room in Hildebrandt’s basement.

  “Oh, but you’re a clever one!” Colander said. “Where are we? You tricked me! A warehouse, is it? Sounds like one! OK! I’m done talking. Kill me if you like.”

  “You both recorded the agreement,” Ralph said, improvising. “How stupid are you? He’s a hero to every cop in the country. Your recording will go missing before it can ever be heard in court.”

  Colander was no longer so arrogant.

  “You will be dropped somewhere. Without injury. Without violence. I’d run fast and hard if I were you. It won’t be Mr. Hildebrandt after you. It will be your own people!”

  Colander sat stone-faced and silent, staring down at his tied hands.

  “You should have left the area,” Ralph said. “Personally, I don’t understand why you’re still around, but I can guess: greed. You. Hildebrandt. Everyone is after Mr. Moriarty’s fortune. Let me tell you something. I worked for him for years. I have no idea if it exists or where it might be. Personally, I think it’s a myth.”

  Ralph waited several more minutes for Colander to explain himself.

  Then Ralph walked out and left him for Espiranzo to handle.

  CHAPTER 63

  “THIS CAN’T BE,” JAMES SAID, DESPITE MY HAVING told him.

  But in fact it was Sherlock who sat down with Ralph, Lexie, and me at the Vanilla Bean’s corner table. James looked like he’d seen a chicken wearing a tuxedo.

  “Key,” Sherlock said, abbreviating my brother’s middle name, Keynes.

  “Lock,” said James. “How in the world—?”

  “You’re just lucky, I guess.” Sherlock gawked at Ralph. “He is risen.”

  “Will miracles never cease?” said Ralph.

  Lexie and I took in these exchanges like an audience at a play.

  James filled the silence. “Superintendent Colander, who is a fake,” directed to Sherlock, “gave up Hildebrandt as the mastermind behind Father’s ‘accident.’”

  “Not exactly,” Ralph corrected. “More like implicated. We’ve no real evidence. And in the battle of he-said, he-said, Hildebrandt will come out the winner ten times out of ten.”

  “So, we’re planning an intervention,” said Lexie. “James and I followed real evidence—blood—back to—”

  “The observatory,” said Sherlock. “Yes, I know.”

  Light flashed in James’s eye. “That was you in the woods!”

  “It was,” said Sherlock. “Backup, you might call it. Woods can be dangerous at night.”

  “You scared the spit out of us!” Lexie said.

  “Speak for yourself,” said James, as if he hadn’t been frightened. To Sherlock: “We’ve been punking Hildebrandt at night. The man likes to drink and we’ve made sure he’s had nightmares. Mostly visions of my father. Video on the wall. Voices. Three nights now. He’s more freaked each night. It’s working. We have one last surprise for him.”

  “A visit from me,” Ralph said. “The spectral me. The ghost of me. I’ve seen the video James has, and it’s quite frightening. Very well done. Only the headmaster and Mrs. Furman now know I’m alive. Not Hildebrandt. We must act quickly though! Colander will run. When he does, word will spread quickly. Power plays for control of the Meirleach will be set into motion. If we’re to trick Hildebrandt, it must be now.” He addressed Lexie, “Sorry if much of this is not making sense. We have no time to explain it fully.”

  “No problem,” Lexie said. “How can you trick a man like that, anyway?”

  “I will tell you how, but only the once. Should you ever repeat it, I will deny it.” He looked into the eyes of each of us. We nodded one by one. “Something you, James, and Moria don’t know: I was a Boston policeman as a young man.” My heart sped up. Ralph had more secrets. “I did something bad. I took money to remove a piece of evidence from our evidence room. It helped your father, eventually, because it involved the Hildebrandt family. ‘What goes around, comes around.’”

  “The pistol in Mr. Moriarty’s office desk,” Sherlock said dryly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that weapon was involved in a robbery of an armored car in the 1960s. James, Moria, and I found a newspaper article concerning that robbery.”

  “Hildebrandt has an article framed on his wall,” James added. “It says it’s what got him started in law enforcement.”

  “Ironic, it should say that. You children are enterprising young lads. And lasses,” Ralph said, including me and Lexie. “You’ve pieced this all together, have you?”

  “Not until this moment,” Sherlock said. “The real story has been elusive.”

  “The real story goes back a long time. A rich father protecting his son. A wet-behind-the-ears copper who made a mistake that nearly got him killed.”

  “But you kept hold of the weapon, didn’t you?” Sherlock sounded about thirty years old. “You gave it to Mr. Moriarty for safekeeping. Shrewd, Ralph. Very shrewd.”

  For the past week, I had been working so hard on Mother’s final photograph that much of the conversation didn’t interest me. But this last part, about Hildebrandt’s mani
pulation of Colander, jumped out and startled me into focus.

  “And Mother,” I said, drawing the attention of all at the table. I explained the photo, Ruby’s brilliant computer work, and the discovery. Upon hearing my explanation, Ralph did not look comfortable.

  “I left you that photo at the Cape house, Miss Moria. And the note in the darkroom before that.”

  “I was watching over you. Helping you along where I could. Mr. Lowry had entrusted me with the location of the thumb drive. But you, James, had the man’s shoe, and I worried what you might do with that information if left to yourself.”

  “You,” I muttered, my head reeling.

  “Moria, you were at the Cape house with Lois. That was dangerous. It was time you and James knew about your mother. I’d found that picture in your father’s things. I hoped you might be clever enough to work out who it was across the street.”

  “Hildebrandt,” I said. “It’s him watching from his car. Across the street. Ralph, you were there. Did you see him? You were there.”

  “I was driving. Yes,” Ralph said, though it carried a tinge of uncomfortable confession. My naming Hildebrandt had affected him. “Never saw that car until the picture. Didn’t know Hildebrandt was there until right now.”

  “Mother did not leave us,” I told James.

  “Mo, we’ve told each other that for the past six years.”

  “Remember Father’s trip to Gadwall?” I said.

  James’s eyes flared.

  “We never knew who he was visiting?” I said.

  Ralph appeared deeply troubled. “How could you know that, Moria?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “Not for absolute certain. Not until just now. Thank you, Ralph!”

  James was crying, though trying not to. “Mother’s alive.”

  “I hope so,” I said, my eyes searching Ralph’s.

  “Your mother’s alive.”

  “Astonishing,” said Sherlock.

  CHAPTER 64

  JAMES, RALPH, AND I MADE THE DRIVE TO BOSTON in silence. It was like old times except no one was laughing. Ralph wouldn’t tell us what he needed us for but it had to be something important to go to all this trouble. Maybe he just didn’t want us arguing with him. Or maybe he still didn’t have a real plan.