Confessions: The Private School Murders (12 page)

Jacob Perlman was waiting
for us on the red leather sofa in the living room. Along with his standard khaki shirt and pants, he was wearing his fierce no-nonsense look, and I had an idea why.

“Uh-oh,” I said, coming into the room.

“Sit down, Tandy. All of you.”

We arrayed ourselves around the coffee table that used to be a shark tank and was now just an empty five-by-five glass container with some dead algae clinging to the walls.

“Raise your hand if you went to school today.”

He looked at us. The boys looked away.

“We went to court,” I volunteered. “Matthew’s trial started today.”

“I’m aware of that. Now.” Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You might have said no,” Harry said. “We didn’t want to fight with you about it, and we especially didn’t want to be overruled.”

“I haven’t seen my brother in a month,” Hugo said passionately. “I had to see him. I don’t care what you do to me. I’d skip school and do it again.”

“So you lied by omission,” Jacob said. “We talked about this.”

I leaned forward in my seat. “But I—”

Jacob held up one finger to silence me. It worked. “When you didn’t go to school, Mr. Thibodaux was concerned.”

“Ugh,” said Hugo.

“You’re surprised, Hugo?” Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hugo hung his head. “No, sir.”

“Mr. Thibodaux called me.”

“Oh, man,” said Harry.

“I take it you know where this is going?” Jacob said. “Well, I’ll tell you, anyway. I called each of you. None of you answered. I tried again. Still nothing. And then, since your phones are supposed to be on at all times and you’re always to answer when I call, I worried that something might have happened to you. So I called the police.”

“We turned off our phones when we went into the courthouse,” I explained. “You knew Matty’s trial was today. Why not look for us there? We weren’t missing nearly long enough for the police to begin a search.”

“Given recent events, in particular the murder of a young woman
across the street from this building
, I didn’t have time to hope you were fine and go down to the courthouse to check. Sergeant Caputo and I were extremely worried. Normally, he would wait forty-eight hours, but you kids are special friends of the Twentieth Precinct.

“The police canvassed this building. Several officers searched for you around your school. A squad of uniformed officers went looking for your dead bodies in Central Park.”

Hugo said in a small voice, “Do you think maybe you overreacted a little bit? I mean, we went to court. Everyone should have known that. He’s our brother. The trial is major news. Caputo’s partner was even there. Testifying
against
Matty.”

“You could have flipped on the news and seen our faces splayed all over it,” Harry added.

“You disobeyed,” Jacob said firmly. “You didn’t tell me where you were. That is a
big
deal.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “We’re not used to reporting in yet, Jacob. We never had to before.”

Jacob went on as if I hadn’t spoken. He kept his voice even, which was almost scarier than if he’d gone crazy.

“The search was finally called off when, as you say, Harry, one of the officers saw your faces splayed all over the news. But not before thousands of tax dollars were spent and you aged me about ten years. You owe an apology to the NYPD and to Mr. Thibodaux.
I
don’t want your apology. I want obedience.

“The three of you are grounded until further notice. School. Home. That’s all. Tonight, after what I’m sure will be a very awkward dinner, you will go to your rooms.”

Hugo said, “Jacob, just saying, maybe you take your military training too seriously.”

“You think so? I’ve saved hundreds of people in my lifetime. How about you? Any of you ever save a life?”

Harry and I looked at each other. I’d never felt so intimidated.

“I didn’t think so. I’ll see you at dinner. We’re having whatever is in a can or a jar. Keep your expectations low.”

22

That was it?
We were grounded?

One summer, Hugo got a Big Chop for talking back to Maud. He was sent to boot camp in Hawaii, where he harvested prickly pineapples for two months in the blazing sun and slept in a guarded barracks at night. He was
eight
. Grounding, for us, was nothing.

I gathered my brothers for a conference in Hugo’s room. I said, “We have to talk.”

“You don’t even have to say it, Tandy,” Harry said. “We screwed up. What if we
had
been kidnapped? There’s some precedent for that. What was Jacob supposed to think?”

“Malcolm and Maud never worried where we were,”
Hugo said. He kicked at the knees of his tattered life-sized stuffed pony, a baby gift from Uncle Peter.

“They knew we could take care of ourselves,” Harry said. “Jacob doesn’t know that.”

“Our parents were self-involved,” said Hugo. “They only cared if we were insubordinate. Or if something we did came back on them.”

“So what are you saying?” I asked Hugo.

“We don’t expect people to care.” He flopped down on his back, lying diagonally across his mattress with his arms crossed over his chest. “Jacob actually cares about us.
Us!
”

Like it was the most impossible thing to fathom. Which it kind of was.

“It’s weird, but… I think you’re right,” I said.

“But how
can
he? He’s barely known us for a week,” Hugo said.

“Maybe he’s suffering a loss?” Harry suggested.

“Maybe he doesn’t have any kids of his own. Or maybe they died,” Hugo said.

“Or maybe he
likes
us,” I added. “Maybe he likes us and he
cares
and he’s
responsible
. Isn’t that enough?”

I let this very alien idea—alien to the Angel kids, at least—sink in. Then we went together to Jacob’s door.

When he opened it, Hugo said, “Jacob, we’re sorry we were so thoughtless.”

“In our defense, we’ve never been held to account for our whereabouts during the daytime, but still,” Harry said, “we were wrong. We’ll never go off your radar again.”

“Is there something we can do to make this up to you?” I asked. “Within reason, of course.” I smiled.

Jacob put his hands on his hips. “What do you suggest?”

“I’ve got a hundred bucks,” I joked.

“And I’ve got fifty,” said Harry.

“You can’t pay the man off! He’s Israeli military!” Hugo said, wide-eyed.

“So we’ll treat for a Chinese dinner out. How’s that? If you’ll accept our apologies, Jacob,” I said.

Jacob cracked a small smile. “Apologies accepted.”

Then he did the unthinkable. He hugged us. All three of us and Jacob in one big group hug. Even I was moved. But it was Hugo who started to cry.

Harry and I exchanged a look and backed off so that Jacob could hug Hugo and only Hugo. My little brother just sobbed into Jacob’s chest. He let go of a whole world of pain that he’d been expressing in every way but sadness.

“I didn’t understand I could hurt you!” Hugo cried.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you,” Jacob said. “I’ve got you now. We’re all going to be fine.”

23

My phone rang,
jolting me out of a bottomless sleep.

I fumbled around at my bedside table and grabbed my phone. It was C.P., and it was barely light out. I rubbed the bleariness from my eyes and checked the clock. It was just after six thirty in the morning.

I answered on the third ring. “What’s up?”

“Tandy,” she whispered, her voice strained. “It happened again.”

“What?” I asked, swinging my legs over the side of my bed, fully alert. “What happened again?”

“Look.”

My phone beeped, and I opened the link C.P. had sent me. There, six inches from my still-gummy eyes, was a
breaking news story:
TEENAGE GIRL FOUND DEAD IN CENTRAL PARK.

Below the headline was a photo of a blond-haired girl lying curled on her side on the Bow Bridge.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my free hand fluttering up to cover my mouth. I brought the phone back to my ear. “C.P.… I can’t even… did you know her?”

“No idea who she is. Who she
was
. They don’t name her in the article. But you can bet we’ll find out before school starts. I’m sure the entire Upper West Side is texting about it right now.”

“Of course they are,” I agreed, getting up and reaching for a pair of jeans. My hands were shaking. “This is unbelievable. Another murder right across the street.”

“Get up and get dressed,” C.P. said. “I’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour.”

“You sure you want to come to the dead zone?” I asked bitterly, looking out the window across the park.

“Not funny, Angel,” she replied. Then the line went dead.

I dressed fast, then downed a cup of milky coffee and a buttered roll. As I brushed my hair, I ran a search on the latest murder.

I found a story on the news feed.

Marla Henderson, 17, was found dead at approximately 5:30 this morning on the Bow Bridge in Central Park. Bystanders at the scene say that Ms. Henderson appeared to have been shot. Police refuse to comment on an ongoing investigation.

Harry, Hugo, and I left for school together and found C.P. pacing outside the Dakota’s gates. Her posture was tense, and her eyes darted everywhere.

“Guys, I need some girl time with C.P.,” I told my brothers.

“Yeah,” C.P. agreed, latching on to my arm like it was a life preserver. She looked Harry up and down. “Girl time. Girl blather. Just us.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He looked, somehow, disappointed. “Whatever you two are up to, don’t get caught.”

Harry and Hugo set off up Central Park West. As soon as they crossed Seventy-Second, I turned to C.P.

“We’ve got to make this fast,” I said, thinking of Jacob, our talk last night, and my new vow to myself not to disappoint him again. “I can’t be late. I mean it. I can
not
be late to school.”

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