The first thing she said was “You look like hell.”
I told her about the previous evening's activities, including what Welman told us. I thanked her for convincing the old man to come talk to us.
“He's susceptible to my charms,” she said.
“And you have many,” I said. “The worst part of all this is I feel rotten about being mean to Scott. He's trying to be calm and helpful. I just get more angry, and feel rotten about being angry, and on top of that I'm torn between guilt and anger with Bluefield.”
“Scott loves you and understands,” Meg said. “He knows you're not a saint. As for Bluefield, why are you still feeling guilt about hitting him and hating him? After what he did last night, I'd be ready to consider murder.”
“Last night I wanted to hurt him. Now, I don't know.” I shrugged. “I know it doesn't make much sense.”
She said, “You're right. It doesn't make sense. I wasn't there last night, but I think it was the kid attacking your house. Good thing you have the alarm system to scare people away. You've got to solve this murder nonsense. You get that out of the way and you're in good shape. I can't believe the police were so rotten.”
“They were.”
“I didn't mean I didn't believe what you said. I guess I meant I didn't believe they would act like that.”
“The interrogation was nothing compared to what I've been through before. I guess it upset me so much because they seemed to believe the kid, and I know he's lying.”
“If they really believed him,” she reminded me, “they'd probably have arrested you already. Are you going to tell the police what Welman told you?”
“I promised Scott. I won't unless I have to.”
Switching topics, Meg said, “I've got something that may help when you talk to Fiona.” It turned out that Fiona'd had sex with a large number of the men on the faculty.
Meg read my mind. “If she were a man, you'd all congratulate him on his conquests. Because she's a woman, she's a slut.” She continued her story. Supposedly, Fiona had
bragged that she'd had sex with over half the men on the faculty sometime in the last ten years.
“She never approached me,” I said.
“You wouldn't have noticed,” Meg said. “You are one of the least susceptible men to feminine charms that I know, and we both know the reason.”
“Anyway, why would she open up to me? If the gossip line knows about it, and she brags about it, what's to threaten her with?”
Meg said, “A good portion of her conquests have been here at school. In classrooms, broom closets, anywhere you could lock a door and not be seen. Push her on the issue. I'll bet you get something.” I shook my head dubiously, but said if I had to, I would use the information.
The bell rang for class. Meg gave me words of encouragement as I left to teach first hour. Being in front of the kids that day was worse than it had been the day before. I was tired from lack of sleep, my arm hurt, and more of them had heard about what Bluefield had said and done the last couple of days. I found myself disciplining more than usual. Even if the kid who tries something is an asshole, the other kids get restless. The cycle of respect is broken. The relationship you've built up with them changes.
At noon, weary but determined, I set out to ask more questions. Yesterday there hadn't been enough time for me to get to the last person on the list Georgette gave: Max Younger, the debate-team coach. I needed to talk to Marshall Longfellow, and I had another reason to speak to Fiona Wilson, besides the fact that Welman had seen them both in the hall yesterday.
I greeted people in the teachers' lounge and found Younger pounding on the pop machine. I tapped it just above the coin-return lever; a coin clinked inside the machine, and a can of diet soda fell into the bin. I asked him if I could talk to him outside.
“I need to eat my lunch,” he said.
“This won't take long,” I said.
He grumbled about not having enough time, but he accompanied me out to the hallway.
Max Younger wore a beard on a pinched and narrow face. I knew he starred in all the local dramatic productions at the River's Edge Community Center. He was in his late twenties, with an attractive wife whom I'd seen once or twice at faculty parties. I'd heard he had quite a temper while putting together the school plays. The ones I'd gone to had been excellent productions. Perhaps his standards required him to pressure the kids extra hard.
Before I even began, he said, “I don't want any trouble. I was here. I told the cops that I was working on the sets for the new production. Usually several kids are here with me, but the first performance is next week, and my production, stage, and prop managers were all out sick Monday and some of this stuff has to get done. You just can't count on kids.”
“You were here by yourself,” I said.
“Hey, I'm out of this,” he said. “I talked to the cops. I had no reason to kill Jones. He gave us a big budget that we were real pleased with.”
He opened the lounge door and slipped inside.
That had gone quickly enough; I thought I'd try Fiona. I found her in the departmental office, sitting in front of a computer screen. She didn't look up as I entered the room. She pressed several keys and one of the figures on the chess board on the screen moved. She looked up. No one else was in the room.
I sat on the desk next to the computer.
“What?” she asked.
“Fiona, someone saw you in the east hallway the night of the murder.”
Her gray eyes stared fiercely at me. “Who's the liar?” she demanded.
“I don't want to reveal my source.”
“If it was really a source, and not something you made up, you'd go to the police with it to clear your own name.”
“Do you want me to go to the police with the information?” I asked. I met her gaze levelly.
“Why were you there?” I asked.
She drummed her fingers on the computer keyboard. The machine beeped at her several times as she inadvertently ordered chess pieces where they couldn't go. She pressed several keys and then returned to staring at me.
“I'm not telling you anything,” she said.
Feeling less than proud of myself I said, “I hear you manage to make a lot of the men on the faculty feel good.”
“What of it?” she demanded. “It's the nineties. No one cares. So take your threat and shove it.”
“You were there,” I stated.
She banged her hand on the computer console. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Look, if I thought it would really help you, I'd tell.”
“What do you mean, if you thought it would really help me? That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard anybody say. What were you doing there?”
“I won't sit here and be insulted.”
I said, “It's time to tell this to the police.”
I marched to the door. Before I could slam it, she called out, “No, wait.”
I halted with my hand on the door knob.
“I ⦠please come back,” she said. “I don't want trouble with the police. I'll tell you.”
I reseated myself on the desk.
She turned off the computer, fiddled with the discs for a minute, gave me a grim smile. “I ⦠This is embarrassing,” she said. “It's ⦠You can't tell the police. I didn't do anything illegal, and I certainly didn't kill him.”
“Why were you there?” I asked.
She clutched at the chain around her neck, pulling the tiny gold cross that hung there back and forth over the links. “I talked to him. I left him alive.” She paused, her right hand continuing to fool with the cross and chain.
“What did you talk to him about?”
She blushed, then murmured, “He caught me.”
“Caught you?”
“Here in the office. I was, we were ⦠I was having sex with one of the teachers here, who's not married and who wasn't here Monday night. Jones walked in on us. We had our clothes half off, and I wasâ” She stopped, gulped, and resumed. “Each of us thought the other had locked the door. It was after school hours. We weren't hurting anybody. I know I'm living with someone, but ⦔ She shook herself. “I don't owe you an explanation about that. Anyway, he caught us.”
“When was this?”
“Last Friday. He said he'd decide on disciplinary action over the weekend. He wanted to see us in his office after school on Monday. Because he went to the hospital with Bluefield, I had to wait until after the chess club meeting.”
“Why'd you go by yourself?”
“It was my fault, my idea. I wanted to have sex here. It added excitement to the whole idea. He was angry that my partner didn't show up with me.”
“Who was your partner?”
“I'm not going to tell you, now or ever, even if you tell the police. I'm being honest with you as much as I can. I'm hoping you'll believe me. I can't believe you'd turn in a fellow teacher.”
She hadn't wanted to help me the day before, but now she expected me to stand loyally by her.
“What did Jones say?” I asked.
“He wanted me to resign. I refused. He said he'd make the whole thing public, go to the school board.”
“What you did may not have been specifically illegal, but it was certainly dangerous.”
“It wasn't the first time,” she muttered.
“Any kid could have walked in.”
“And probably would have walked out without saying anything or causing a stink,” she retorted. “Anyway, Jones wanted me to quit. He claimed he was being as nice as he could, trying to avoid a scandal. I don't think he'd told anyone else before he died.”
“If he hadn't told anyone, that gave you a good reason to kill him.”
“I didn't kill him. I'm being honest with you, and it would make a stink if you told, but I'm also being fairly safe. You have no witnesses to this conversation. I can deny anything I've said, claim you're making it up. I'm helping so I can get you off my back. Yes, I know it doesn't look good, but I had no reason to want him dead. He was actually pretty nice about it. I've had offers in private industry. Many people with advanced degrees in math have. It's not like I haven't thought of quitting. I left him alive. Promise you won't say anything.”
“I wasn't the last one to see him alive, according to what you've said, and that would help get me off the hook.”
“You still found the body and you had a fight with him. Please, you can't tell. My name might be in all the papers. I couldn't take it. My reputation would be ruined. I've been worried that he wrote something down or left some kind of record. I've been afraid every minute that the police would be coming to talk to me. I've got a resignation written out, but I haven't submitted it because it might look suspicious to quit right now. When things die down, I'm leaving. I cooperated with you. The least you can do is cut me a little slack.”
The bell rang for fifth hour. If she was the killer, then my knowledge could be just as dangerous to me as it had been to Jones. I said, “I will leave a record of what you've said, but I won't turn it over to the police unless I have to. I appreciate what you've told me. You left him alive. Did you see anyone else around when you left?”
“No. The hall was empty.”
“Did you see Dan Bluefield anywhere in the school?”
She hadn't.
I went back to class. During my planning period I hurried to see Meg. I told her what Fiona had told me.
“You going to tell?” she asked.
“Like she said, she could deny all of it. Welman did say he saw her. She'd have a tough time denying that. I believe
Welman, but a lawyer could give him a nasty going-over. The guy is old and the lighting at the time must have been uncertain, and he must have been a basket case after seeing Jones dead.”
“You've got people who are better suspects than you. Welman, Fiona, Longfellow the custodian, and probably Younger.”
“I can't prove any of them killed him. I'm still angry at the police for the way they treated me last night, so I'm not telling them anything until I'm through talking to people. If they decide to arrest me, I'll have to tell what I've learned. I don't want to spend any time in jail.”
“Could they get you for concealing evidence?” Meg asked.
“I don't know. It's a risk I'm willing to take. They're idiots, and I don't have to put up with it.”
She eyed me carefully and sighed. “I think you're making the right decision.”
“I'm not sure why I'm protecting her.”