by J. D. Robb
Eve nodded toward the doors for the staff fitness center.
Mosebly’s hand fluttered at her heart. “I have to know what happened. If this was a deliberate act, the students could be at risk—”
“I have no reason to think they are. It was specific. Answer the questions.”
Mosebly pressed her fingers to her temples. “It’s staff only from this side. Key cards are required. The students have their area, which is accessed from the other side of the pool. The staff may use the aquatic area before and after classes when there is no scheduled practice for meets. Swim meets. Oh, my God. Poison.”
“Key card,” Eve said, and gestured to the door.
Mosebly drew one from her pocket, swiped it.
Eve entered. It was a small, efficient area not currently in use. Cross-trainers, weights, mats. Her gym at home was larger and had juicier equipment, but she thought it was a well-designed space. And a nice perk for the staff.
“Foster made regular use of the machines?”
“Nearly every day. The staff is encouraged to use the facility. Most do, once or twice a week. Some, like Craig, made better use of it.”
Eve nodded, wound her way through the room, out a second set of doors. The locker room was clean and, again, efficient. Counters, toilet stalls, three showers on each side, separated by opaque glass. Men’s, women’s.
“Which of these lockers was his?”
“We’re not assigned specific lockers,” Mosebly explained, in the hurried tones of someone who, obviously, wanted to be elsewhere. “If the light on the keypad is red, it’s in use. When green, one simply uses it, locks it with any six-number code.”
“I see three here on red.”
“Some use a locker routinely, keep their gear in there for convenience.”
“I’m going to want to see the contents.”
“You can’t just open a locker that someone’s using.”
“Yes, I can. Peabody?”
“Locker and storage facilities in educational complexes, offices, and public buildings aren’t protected under the Privacy Laws,” Peabody stated as Eve drew out her master. “In the course of a police investigation, a duly authorized member of the NYPSD may access such storage.”
“This is invasive and unnecessary. It’s obvious to me that whatever substance caused his death was in something he brought from home.”
Eve leaned on the lockers. “See, it’s not obvious to me. And in matters like this, you can say I’m the principal.”
“You can’t possibly believe any member of this staff would wish or cause Craig harm.”
“Sure I can.”
The first locker held a pair of women’s air sneaks, a cosmetic kit including lip dye, deodorant, hair gel, lash enhancer, several sample-sized tubes of skin-care creams, some fragrance.
“I may be a layperson in this arena,” Mosebly said tightly, “but it’s very clear Craig suffered some tragic allergic reaction to something he ate or drank. And, again, to something he brought from home.”
“Yeah, I’d say that’s clear to you because anything else would be really crappy publicity for the school.”
The next locker had the men’s version of the first. Shoes, a toiletry case that included a comb, some hair product, skin cream. There was a pair of swim goggles and an underwater headset.
“It’s my responsibility to protect the reputation of this academy. I’m going to contact our lawyers immediately.”
“You do that.” Eve moved to the next locker as Mosebly strode out. “Unlikely candidate for this.”
“I don’t know.” Unable to resist, Peabody made a rude and childish face at Mosebly’s back. “She’s got a pissy attitude if you ask me.”
“Sure. But if she was going to do Foster, big odds she’d have done it off school property. We’ll take a closer look, in case the school loyalty’s a facade, but I can’t see her wanting to bring scandal to her hallowed halls or a smear to her standing as the principal. Well, well, lookie here.”
The next locker had the requisite shoes, and a very slick faux-leather toiletry case. The products inside were more high-end than the others had been. Among them was a generous supply of condoms.
“Funny place to keep those raincoats,” Peabody commented. “Unless you’re planning on getting action in the school locker room.”
“Which I’m just betting is against the rules.” Eve took out a little pill case. “Looks like Stay-Up to me. Naughty boy. RW,” she added, reading the initials etched on the case. “Reed Williams is my guess.”
While Peabody went to pull Williams out of class for questioning, Eve continued to follow the course of Craig’s morning and walked to the staff lounge.
She passed a couple of young boys who gave her long stares. Silently, they held up passes.
“Do I look like a hall monitor?” she demanded.
“We’re required to show our passes to adults. Staff and parents,” one told her.
“Do I look like a parent?”
“I dunno.”
“You go wandering around here a lot?”
“We have passes.”
“Yeah, yeah. Answer the question.”
“We’re going to the library for research material for our science project.”
“Uh-huh. Were you out of class any time yesterday before noon?”
They slid sideways glances toward each other before the first boy spoke. “Maybe we were going to the library for research material yesterday, too.”
“We showed Ms. Hallywell our passes.”
“When?”
The second one gave a careless shrug. “Sometime. Are we in trouble?”
“You’re going to be if you don’t answer the question. In case you’re wondering, I don’t give a rat’s ass if you were sneaking off to drink beer and gamble.” She ignored the delighted snort from the first boy. “I want to know what time you saw Ms. Hallywell, and where you saw her.”
“It was second period, the last half. Um. Ten-thirty or like that. She was coming down Staircase B. Over there. How come you want to know?”
“Because I’m nosy. Where was she going?”
“I dunno. Teachers don’t have to tell you. Teachers don’t have to tell you, but you have to tell them.”
“Yeah, it’s always been like that.”
“If you’re not a teacher or staff, and you’re not a parent, you’re supposed to have a pass.” The first boy gave her a narrow stare.
“Report me. Now get lost.”
They took off at a darting run, shooting glances back over their shoulders. “Probably building a homemade boomer for their science project,” she muttered, and took out her notes. From ten to eleven, Foster taught his advanced class, utilizing the third-floor media room. “Interesting.”
She used her master on the lounge door. With classes in session it was unoccupied. In her mind, Eve saw Craig zipping in, grabbing his reward soft drink, post workout, preclass. Chatting vids.
Most, if not all of the staff would have been in the building by then, and certainly the majority of the students. And Foster’s thermos sat easily accessed by anyone in his second-floor classroom.
Just as it had while he’d worked out, while he’d taught his advanced class.
What would it have taken? she wondered. A minute? Two? Step in, open the drawer, pour in the poison. Or just switch go-cups. Close it up, walk out again.
A smart killer would have had a backup plan in case anyone had come in. Just leaving a note for Craig. Just needed to check a paper. Easily done if you kept your head.
She turned as Peabody came in with Williams. “Can’t this wait?” he demanded. “It’s a difficult enough day without me having to leave my class with a supervisor droid.”
“Then let’s not waste time. Did you leave your classroom at any time between ten and eleven yesterday?”
“Second period, Monday. That’s a group study session. Yes, I stepped out for a few minutes.”
“To do what?”
“I used the restroom. I drink a lot of coffee.” To prove it, he moved to the AutoChef, programmed a cup. “I always step out for a short time during that class.”
“That classroom is on the same level, the same section as Foster’s. You see anyone? Anyone see you?”
“Not that I recall.”
“You keep a locker in the fitness center.”
“Some of us do. It’s easier than bringing a change of shoes every day.”
“You don’t just have shoes in your locker, Reed. In my experience, when a man keeps that many shields close to hand, he has plans for them.”
There was a brief hesitation, then Williams took a slow sip of coffee. “The last I checked, condoms weren’t illegal.”
“But I ask myself, what might Principal Mosebly have to say about such a generous supply of them in your locker? Or the board of directors, the board of—what is it?—education.”
“Again. Condoms aren’t illegal.”
“Still. What might they think about one of the staff here scoring booty in the locker room, so close to all those innocent young minds and bodies?”
“Carrying protection is just that—carrying protection.” In a nonchalant move, he leaned back as he drank his coffee. “You have a weapon strapped on, but as far as I know, you haven’t stunned anyone in the building.”
“Early days yet,” Eve said lightly. “What else I was thinking was how about those innocent minds. Those innocent bodies. Pretty little girls, so easily lured.”
“Well, for Christ’s sake.” At this, he set down his coffee quickly, shoved out of his slouch against the counter. “That’s despicable and it’s disgusting. I’m not a pedophile. I’ve been a teacher for fourteen years, and have never touched a student in any way that could be considered inappropriate.”
“By whose scale?” Eve wondered.
“Listen. I don’t like girls. I like women. I like women a great deal.”
Eve was more than willing to buy that claim. “Enough to bang them on school property?”
“I don’t have to answer questions like this. Not without a lawyer.”
“Fine, you can call one when we get downtown.”
Shock replaced temper. “You’re arresting me?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Listen, listen. Jesus.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “So I’ve had a few encounters. It’s not a crime, but it is questionable behavior as far as my job is concerned. But those encounters were with consenting adults.”
“Names.”
He tried a little charm with a smile that asked for understanding. “Lieutenant, this can’t possibly have any bearing on why you’re here. And a couple of them are married.”
“A couple of them.”
“I like women.” That smile widened. “I like sex. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Craig ever notice you liking sex in the locker room?”
“No.”
He said it too quickly, and Eve saw the lie. “He was a straight arrow, wasn’t he? He comes across you having an encounter, he’s going to be shocked. Maybe pissed. He threaten to go to the principal?”
“I had no problem with Craig; he had no problem with me. Ask anyone.”
“I will. We’ll talk again.”
“Kind of slimy,” Peabody commented when he’d left.
“Kind of a motive. He was lying about Craig knowing about his locker-room games.”
She wandered as she spoke and brought the layout of the locker room back into her head. Lots and lots of places for nooky, she decided, if you wanted it that way.
“Maybe he can’t talk Craig out of reporting it, or just fears he will at some point. Protects himself, his job, his lifestyle. He was out of his classroom while Craig was out of his. Opportunity. Puts him, at the moment, top of my list. Let’s take Hallywell.”
“Do you want me to bring her in here?”
“No, let’s try this one in her element.”
Bells chimed as they stepped out of the lounge. Immediately kids poured out of classrooms to swarm the corridors, to send the noise level soaring. They looked and sounded, to Eve’s mind, the way she imagined locusts did when they swarmed over…whatever locusts swarmed over.
Or like ants, Eve thought, scrambling out of their hill. Out of self-preservation, Eve would have ducked back into the lounge until the deluge passed, but one of the kids aimed straight for her.
“Lieutenant Dallas. Excuse me, please.”
Little blonde, Eve thought, sharp eyes. “Rayleen.”
“Yes, ma’am. Was Mr. Foster murdered?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I looked you up on the computer, and that’s what you do. You investigate murders. You’ve done a lot of them. My father said you would have been here yesterday because it was a suspicious death. But that can mean accident, natural causes, or self-termination, too. Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’d be right.”
“But you’re here again today, and asking questions again today, and everyone’s talking about what maybe happened.”
Rayleen pushed at her long curls, held back today with a pair of white barrettes in the shape of unicorns. “A lot of people are asking me because I was the one who found him. I don’t want to tell them what isn’t true. So was Mr. Foster murdered?”
“We’re looking into it.”
“I don’t see how he could have been because he was too nice, and because this is a very safe school. Did you know it’s considered one of the top schools not only in the city, but in the state of New York?”
“Imagine that.”
“I’m the top of my class here.” With another of those prissy smiles that made Eve want to twist the pert little nose out of joint, Rayleen tapped a finger on the gold star she wore on her lapel.
“Whoopee.” Eve started to skirt around Rayleen, but the girl danced backward.
“But if Mr. Foster was murdered, my mother’s going to be even more upset. I’m her only child, you see, and she worries about me. She didn’t want me to come to school today.”
“But you’re here.”
“We had a discussion. My parents and I. I have perfect attendance, and that’s factored into my overall rating. I didn’t want to miss class. Melodie didn’t come, though. My mother talked to hers, and Melodie had bad dreams last night. I didn’t, or I don’t remember. I liked Mr. Foster, and I wrote how much I’m going to miss him in my diary. I wish he didn’t have to die.”
“It’s rough.”
Rayleen gave a wise and soulful nod. “Maybe I could help. Maybe I’ll remember something that will help. Or I’ll hear something or see something. I’m very smart, and very observant.”
“I bet. You leave it to us.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen now.” Her violet eyes glimmered with tears. “No one tells us. I worked hard on the project for Mr. Foster, and now I don’t know if I should finish it. I have to go to class now.”
“Tough being a kid,” Peabody observed as Rayleen walked off with her head down. “Tough when you have something like this spoil the innocence you only have for a handful of years anyway. She’s never going to forget walking into that classroom and finding him.”
“Murder doesn’t leave anyone innocent. It shouldn’t. Let’s track down Hallywell. Hit Dawson, too.”
They learned Ms. Hallywell hadn’t come in for classes, but found Dawson in the chem lab, instructing the students on a project. When he spotted Eve at the doorway, he told his students to begin, then stepped out.
“Do you need me? I can only take a few minutes.” He angled himself so he could see through the half-opened doorway, to what his students were up to. “They’re doing a simple test to identify an unknown substance, but I’ll need to keep my eye on them.”
“Unknowns such as what?”
“Oh, sugar, salt, cornstarch, baking powder.”
“Why not just taste it?”
“Well. Ha-ha. That would be ch
eating.” He sobered, eased the door closed a little farther. “Is it true about Craig? He was poisoned?”
“Word travels.”
“At light speed. Arnette’s admin overheard her talking on the ’link to the school’s legal counsel. Then saw Dave, told him, who ran into me, and so on. I can’t believe it.”
“Do you know what ricin is?”
“Ricin?” His eyes widened. “Yes, yes, of course. But…but Craig, how could he have been poisoned by ricin?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out. Do you know how to make it? Ricin?”
“I…not precisely,” he said after a moment. “But I can look it up if you’d like me to. It should only take me a minute.”
“That’s okay.” She peered around him, studied the equipment. “Could you make it in there?”
“Ah…” He pursed his lips. “I could probably manage it, between the equipment here and what I could requisition or jury-rig. You want me to make ricin, Lieutenant? I’d have to get permission,” he said with apology. “No toxics are permitted in the labs, or anywhere on school property for that matter. But if it would help, I’m sure—”
“No, but thanks. So…how often does one of the kids sneak in and manage to build a stink or smoke bomb?”
He smiled, and he reminded Eve of an amused monk. “Oh, at least once a term. I’d be a little disappointed if they didn’t. If children don’t push the edges now and again, what’s the point of being a child?”
For now, Eve checked Dawson off the list and drove to Mirri Hallywell’s apartment. It was a few blocks from the Fosters’, and she didn’t answer the door.
“We’ll try her ’link numbers,” Eve said as they started back down again. “I think we’ll take this out of the school, at least for now. Further interviews at the subjects’ residences. We’ll take it home to them. We’re going to go through the female staff’s data, cull out the more attractive. Odds are we’ll find one or more who’ll admit to dancing in the gym with Williams.”
Even as she reached the outside door, it opened, letting in a blast of cold air, Mirri Hallywell, and a thin reed of a man.
