Schooled in Murder (18 page)

I wanted to talk to Ludwig Schaven. I found him sitting in his chair behind his teacher’s desk. He barely glanced at me as I walked in.

“Did the police tell you anything?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

He had posters of great literary figures in history on his walls. Each had a pithy saying by the author under the portrait.

When I got to the front desk, I said, “You’ve lost two friends. I’m sorry.”

He looked at me. “Not very many people around here seem to be sad. They’re running around worrying about themselves. We should be thinking about Gracie and Peter.” He sighed.

He stared out the window for a few more moments, then said, “What is wrong with these people?”

“Which people?”

“Gracie and Peter are dead. They walk around as if somehow it was the fault of two dead people that their living, breathing, lucky asses were inconvenienced.”

I said, “That’s kind of sad.”

“And people are still willing to fight. I’m ashamed of how I acted in the teachers’ lounge yesterday evening. Shouting at moments like that. I was just so upset. Gracie was a good friend.”

“It’s hard when friends die, especially when they’re young.”

“It’s so sad.”

“We’re you close to Peter?”

“I didn’t go out drinking with them much. If you weren’t part of the drinking group you weren’t on the outs with them, but you weren’t one of the in-crowd either.”

I said, “I heard Peter was part of a group that gambled on school grounds at lunchtime.”

“Peter gambled a lot everywhere. I heard he had several bookies in Chicago.”

“Was he in debt?”

“He used to brag about owing a dime or making a dime. I never knew if that was a hundred dollars or a thousand. Could that have been the cause of his murder? Although that wouldn’t explain Gracie’s.”

“If he owed a vicious bookie a ton of money or was late on payments, Peter could have been in trouble.”

“Have you found out anything that might be a clue to either murder?”

“I’ve got lots of wild rumors. Most of which I don’t believe. One, and we discussed it yesterday, is that Mabel and Gracie were having an affair.”

Schaven said, “They never confessed to one to me. Do you know they took a cruise together last summer?”

“I thought they were married.”

“They are. It was one of those women’s getaway things. They shared a room. I assumed it was separate beds. I have no idea. I don’t care. Although, come to think of it, when they
went to conferences together they always got one room. Of course, with women that doesn’t have to mean anything. I guess it doesn’t have to with guys, but you hear of women doing it more often and people raising fewer eyebrows.”

He was being a little more forthcoming than some of the others, so I wondered how loyal he was to Spandrel. He was in that faction, and I had to assume he was.

I said, “I also heard that Peter Higden was upset about someone on the staff using the n word, but that he made some kind of deal.”

“You do hear a lot.”

I said, “Murder has happened. People become more forthcoming.”

Schaven said, “I thought it would be the other way around, people would clam up.”

“I’m just saying what I’ve gotten. Now I’m checking with you. I want to make sure the things I find out are accurate.”

“And you think someone using the
n
word to Peter could be a cause for murder?”

I said, “I wouldn’t blame him for being really angry. My source says he got tenure because of it.”

Did Schaven really not know the person who had used the slur was Spandrel?

Schaven said, “No, I think Mabel was going to give it to him anyway. He is on our side, after all. To be honest, have you known any of the young teachers who, as long as they are loyal to Mabel, didn’t get tenure? It isn’t their teaching that makes a difference, it’s their loyalty.”

A refreshing bit of honesty. “So some not-so-good teachers are getting tenure?”

“You know they do. You know the system is flawed. Not for the reasons the politicians think. No, it’s flawed because we’re human, not because the unions want power. I care about children. I have no idea if Peter was a good teacher or
not. I do know he was given tenure. Others? Well, as we both know, most of the staff are aware of who are good teachers and who aren’t, and it isn’t test scores. That’s easily fixed.”

This was true. All you needed was an administrator who didn’t like you, and you’d get all the kids who had low test scores in your class. Your test scores would be lower. I’d seen administrators do that to people.

I said, “I heard he was part of the group planning to push for a strike before negotiations even began last year.”

Schaven said, “Nobody ever took that seriously. Rumors blew that all out of proportion. I never heard about Peter being part of that planning. Gracie, sure. She was always an activist. Give her a cause and she’d put up a picket line around it.”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying. I’d heard Schaven had been blaring about a strike since the last contract settlement. “Did you hear about other people being part of that faction?”

“No. I’m a loyal union member. I voted for the contract.” Several sources said that at the last ratification meeting, he had waved his ballot in the air with the
no
prominently circled.

I said, “Did Gracie’s activism go so far as to be willing to picket Peter when he made anti-Semitic remarks?”

“She never said anything to me.”

“How come nobody else besides me objected when Peter made anti-Semitic remarks?”

Ludwig sighed. “I’m Jewish. He never said any of them in front of me. I did hear rumors, and I mentioned them to him. He denied them.”

“He made remarks in front of me. I told him to stop.”

“Are you Jewish?”

“Why would that make a difference?” “I guess it doesn’t.”

“I’m saying it’s true.”

“I did hear him make homophobic remarks.” “And no one spoke up?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I guess no one’s gay in our group.”

“And so it’s okay to be prejudiced against anyone who isn’t represented in the group?”

“No. We were friends. Everybody just kind of knows each other. We let those things roll off our backs. No one takes it seriously.”

I said, “And whoever speaks up makes the group feel uncomfortable?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you’re saying that if he’d made an anti-Semitic slur in front of you, you’d have said nothing?” “No, but like I said, he didn’t.”

I gave up the debate. I said, “I thought we were beyond this.”

“We who?” Schaven asked.

“Society. Educated people.”

“Are you saying prejudice led to these two murders?”

I said, “Somebody was pretty angry. Prejudice can make people pretty angry.”

“Maybe it was jealousy or money.”

“Money? In a school system?”

“People are ambitious. They want better jobs.”

I said, “Yeah, I heard lots of the younger people wanted to move into administration.”

“The money is better there.”

“Do you think anybody was ambitious enough to kill for a job?”

Schaven said, “There’s not much point in killing Gracie and Peter. They didn’t stand in anybody’s way. Not that I
know of. I don’t know why everybody isn’t just sad. These people are worse than children.”

I said, “Did Peter get along with all the members of your faction?”

“Of course, we all got along.”

“I heard there was dissent. That some were turning on others.”

“Impossible.”

“Why is that impossible?”

“No one is like that. Everybody got along.”

“Two members of your faction are dead. Obviously somebody didn’t get along.”

“Most likely the killer is someone from the old guard.”

“Any notions on who?”

He shrugged. “Jourdan’s pretty obvious, but I’m not ready to make an accusation.”

I said, “Have you noticed anything about the administrators acting strange?”

“Who?”

“Towne, Bochka, Graniento?

” “I never see them much.”

I asked, “Do you know where Carl got his statistics on who traveled to conferences?”

His eyes flicked back and forth. “No.”

If I were a betting man, I’d have said he just lied.

I said, “I will never understand you people.”

His response was quick and angry. “We were united on one thing. Nobody liked you, but it wasn’t because they were homophobic. You always wanted to fight and challenge what administrators wanted to do.”

“They needed challenging. I was responding to legitimate complaints.”

“Yeah, but you always wanted to fight. We newer teachers were fed up. We wanted to get along with the administration.”

“At the price of your souls? Your dignity? All the things we’ve fought for years to have?”

“But we haven’t fought for them.”

“But you get the benefits.”

He returned to staring out the window.

I left.

25

Schaven said they’d been united in dislike of me. I hadn’t been aware of this much animosity on the staff. I thought I was pretty self-aware. I’d missed something. Or being homophobic had been forced deep into the closet.

I headed for the gym and Steven Frecking. The field house was dark, the large and small gyms empty. The emergency lights were on. On my way to the PE offices, I heard the sound of raised voices coming from the locker room. I eased forward. I didn’t actually stop to listen–that would have been unprofessional and at the level of a teenager in a bad soap opera. I just slowed down. Very, very slow.

I recognized Morgan Adair’s and Steven Frecking’s voices.

Frecking was saying, “… can’t be seen with you. You shouldn’t have come down here. What if someone shows up?”

“I locked the door.”

“You shouldn’t have. If anybody came down here, it would make it look more suspicious. The other coaches are
getting ready for tonight’s football game. I’ve got to get there, too.”

This was the same game I’d promised Fred Zileski and a couple other kids I would go to. I was never eager to attend, and this was an awful day, but I’d promised.

“Were you really making out?” Adair asked.

“Do you believe what Mason told you?”

“Tom has never lied to me.”

“He ever make out with you? I did. Who are you going to trust, him or me?”

Morgan’s pause appalled me.

Finally Morgan said, “You didn’t answer my question.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

Frecking said, “I’m not going to answer it.”

“How can you be like this?” Morgan asked.

Frecking said, “You don’t understand.”

Morgan said, “You’re right. I don’t understand. You were making out with Brandon Benson? He’s married, for Christ’s sake. You and I were good together.”

“I’m a slut. Okay. So what? Get a life. Go away.”

Silence.

“Get out,” Frecking said.

I knocked on the door.

More silence.

I said, “It’s Tom Mason. I’d like to talk to you.”

I heard the lock click and the door open. Tears streamed down Morgan’s face. I thought this was a bit much–he’d only been dating the guy a week. But Morgan’s infatuations were strong: his desire to find a life partner was intense, and his need to get married bordered on the irrational.

He said, “I. Tom. I …” He looked over his shoulder. “I can’t … I’ll talk to you later.” He rushed past me.

I entered the room.

Frecking had a defiant look on his face. I thought he most
resembled a teenager who’d just been accused of doing something unwise.

I said, “I need to talk to you.”

He said, “Nope. Not going to happen.”

“Ah, but I have a few things to say to you.”

Frecking wore low-rise jeans that hugged his hips and bulged out his basket. If he wasn’t stuffing his crotch, it was impressive. The former quarterback wiped his hands on the apparel in question.

He marched toward me and the door and tried to brush past me. I slammed the door and stood in front of it.

“Move,” he ordered.

I said, “I’m not going to fight. Maybe you won’t talk, but you’re going to listen. Your lie is going to cost you. The sex you had is going to cost you. They asked me for DNA. They’ll be around to ask you. If you left traces of yourself of any kind in that room, they will find them.”