A Little Learning

by Jane Tesh

  “Again, I apologize.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Nathan.”

  Out in my car, I examined the cigarette butt more carefully. It was stained with exactly the same shade of lipstick Amelia Lever had been wearing. I hadn’t noticed Fiona Kittering wearing lipstick or any sort of make up. Unless Nathan was cheating on Fiona with someone who wore this violent dark purple lipstick, and taking into account his reaction when I mentioned her name, Amelia Lever had been in his house not long before she died.

  Why?

  ***

  I was still puzzling over this when I stopped by Celosia Elementary to show Thad Murphy the picture of the mysterious Rusty.

  “Do you know who this is?”

  Thad Murphy examined the photo and handed it back, shaking his head. “I don’t recognize this boy.”

  “I thought it might be one of Amelia Lever’s sons, but they say no.”

  “I’ve been principal here eight years. Check with some of the people who’ve worked here longer. Mrs. West might know.”

  Eloise West was the school secretary, a pleasant-looking older woman with short white hair. She peered at the photo through her green-framed half glasses. “That’s Ronald McIntire. We called him ‘Rusty.’ A very sweet little fellow. My goodness, I hadn’t thought of him in years. Such a pity.”

  “What happened?”

  She kept her gaze on the picture. “He came from a dreadful home situation. The parents were always fighting. He was extremely bright, but they never gave permission for him to have any of the accelerated classes or go on field trips. They said they didn’t want him ‘getting ideas.’ They were poor and ignorant and resented any sort of education. Rusty was absent more days than he was here.” She sighed and handed the picture to me. “Then one day he didn’t come back. The family moved away and we never saw him again. We had a request for his records from a school in Virginia, and that’s the last we heard of him.”

  “Was Mrs. Lever his teacher?”

  “I believe she had him when she taught fourth grade.”

  “Any idea why she kept his picture?”

  “No. That doesn’t sound like Amelia. She was not a sentimental person. In fact, she always gave away the gifts the children brought her.”

  “Did she have any contact with Rusty’s parents? Any conferences?”

  “They never came to school. We’d get angry phone calls or badly misspelled notes. I do remember her saying it was a crime that such a bright student was handicapped by ignorant parents and she wished she could’ve done more for him.”

  “Mrs. West, were you the secretary when Aaron Satterfield was in school?”

  “Oh, I remember Aaron. He was quite a handful.”

  “Was he also one of Mrs. Lever’s students?”

  “I believe he was.”

  “Did she show any particular interest in him?”

  “No, Rusty was the only one whose situation seemed to upset her.”

  I thanked Mrs. West and went back to Thad Murphy’s office. He didn’t look happy.

  “About your investigation, Ms. Maclin. Can we safely assume Mrs. Lever’s death was accidental?”

  “I have a few more leads to follow,” I said.

  “I don’t like having any sort of unfinished business associated with the school. When do you think you might have an answer?”

  “I don’t know. I’m working as quickly as possible.”

  I had unfinished business, too, with Rachel Sigmon. I found her on the playground, talking with another teacher. On the field, a group of students screamed through a game of kickball. When a foul ball landed on someone’s head, the teacher hurried to referee.

  “Hello, Madeline,” Rachel said. “I heard about the robbery at Georgia’s Books. Is Jerry okay?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  I wasn’t surprised she’d heard about the incident. “A teenager stole some cards.”

  “Stole some cards? Baseball cards, you mean?”

  “No, those Bufo the Warrior Toad cards all the kids are collecting.”

  “That’s really odd. He didn’t take anything else? He didn’t demand money, or try to take the cash register?”

  “Just the cards.”

  “Do the police know who it was?”

  “They didn’t get much of a description.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you who I’d suspect. Bobby Berkely. He’s one of our worst little hoodlums. The police have caught him breaking into cars and spray painting buildings, you name it.”

  “A teenager?”

  “Yes, he’s probably sixteen, seventeen.”

  “Blue jacket? Baseball cap?”

  “That sounds exactly like him.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll check into that. When can we reschedule my visit?”

  “Oh,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You know, Madeline, I’ve been a real jerk about all this. You don’t have to do anything for the girls. I’d still like you to meet them some time, but I’ve had a little time to think, and I was being a real stage mother. I promise you I’m not like that.”

  “You just want the best for them. I understand. Did you tell me the girls go to Parkland Academy?”

  “Yes, they love it there. They get so much more individual attention.”

  “Was Bronwen supposed to be in Mrs. Lever’s class?”

  “I felt Mrs. Lever was much too strict for a sensitive child like Bron. Besides, I’d already planned for the girls to change schools.” She lowered her voice. “Their father knew he wasn’t allowed on the grounds of Celosia Elementary, yet he kept coming around and being a pest. It was easier for me to move the girls.”

  “I see.”

  “I do want to schedule you for another art class, though. The students really enjoyed your visit. Maybe when you finish your investigation. How’s it coming along?”

  “A few more leads to follow.”

  The other teacher came back, her arm around a tearful boy with a nosebleed. “Mrs. Sigmon, would you mind watching my class while I take Blake to the school nurse?”

  “No problem. Excuse me, Madeline.”

  I sat down at one of the picnic tables at the edge of the playground. Ms. Olsen’s class came galloping out for their recess. Ronald Brown saw me and came over.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  He sat down beside me. “I just wanted to let you know I think you’re hot.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you solved the murder yet?”

  “What makes you think there’s been a murder, Ronald?”

  “You wouldn’t be hanging around here if old lady Lever just keeled over. Think somebody offed her?”

  “I’m still investigating.”

  “So you’re gonna find out what really happened?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Got any clues?”

  “Not very many.”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’ve got one. Want to hear it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, there was this one day when Mrs. Sigmon and Mrs. Lever had it out in the hall. I was hoping they’d start fighting. Mrs. Lever could whip Mrs. Sigmon’s butt.”

  “What were they fighting about?”

  “I don’t know. It didn’t make sense to me.”

  “Did anyone else hear them?”

  “Nah, just me. I had to stay in during recess just for flipping Timothy off. He flipped me off first, only he didn’t get caught. Mrs. Lever said, ‘You don’t know anything about it,’ and Mrs. Sigmon said, ‘You’re lying because you want the money,’ and Mrs. Lever said, ‘Oh, you won’t get it, ha, ha.’ Only she didn’t say, ‘Ha, ha,’ she just laughed real mean.”

  Ronald must have heard Rachel and Amelia arguing about the grant proposal. “I think Mrs. Lever was real mean to a lot of people, Ronald.”

  “Yeah, that’s what makes it so hard to figure out who did it, right?”

  “Right.”

  �
��Well, she wasn’t real mean to me. I liked her because she was tough, you know, like a Marine drill sergeant or something. Ms. Olsen is a flake. She plays this stupid drippy music in the classroom and wants us to blow bubbles and tell her our feelings.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  He sighed. “It’s gonna be a long year.”

  Ms. Olsen must have realized one of her students was missing. She came up to the picnic table, her round face slightly puzzled.

  “Ronald, you shouldn’t be bothering Mrs. Fairweather.”

  I got up. “It’s my fault, Ms. Olsen. I was asking Ronald some questions about his father. We met at PTA, and I thought I recognized his dad from my college days. Seems we both went to the same university.”

  Her expression cleared. “Oh, well, isn’t that nice? Ronald, you need to run and get some fresh air, dear.”

  Ronald grinned at me. “That was smooth. Catch you later.”

  “Smooth?” Norma Olsen said as Ronald ran down to the ball field.

  I shrugged. “Must be some kind of slang. How are you getting along?”

  “Oh, this is the most wonderful class. I really hate to say this, but Amelia was much too strict with them. I feel they’ve blossomed now that she’s gone.”

  “When did you last see Amelia?”

  “Last spring, when I thought she was going to retire. I didn’t actually see her. She called me to say she’d changed her mind. I was so looking forward to teaching here it just about broke my heart. She was so mean-spirited. I think she stayed on to spite me.”

  “Did she have a particular grudge against you?”

  “I never did a thing to her except exist. Some people go through life offended by every little thing, you know.”

  “Was there anyone else who wanted her job?”

  “I’m sure there were some other people, but I know I was first choice for the position. I’d discussed it with the superintendent and with Thad, and they both agreed I had all the proper credentials. All I had to do was wait until Amelia retired. But I couldn’t wait forever. I had to take a job at Baby Brains Day Care, which is a nice place to work, don’t get me wrong.”

  So did you do something to hasten the process? “Amelia had health problems. It seems to me she would’ve wanted to retire.”

  “No one knows why she was hanging on so long. I know I took it personally, which was wrong of me, but as I said, she practically laughed in my face.”

  “She didn’t give you any reason?”

  “No. All she said was she’d decided to stay on another year.”

  “Did she need the money?”

  “I doubt it. Her husband ran one of the larger mills in town. I’m sure he left her plenty.” Her plump cheeks turned pink. “Well, now, I do remember something else. She said she didn’t want to turn her class over to someone who lived in a fantasy land. I thought that was extremely harsh. Just because I like to be surrounded by pretty things doesn’t mean I live in a fantasy land. She liked to make it sound as if I’d lost touch with reality. I have different teaching methods, that’s all. Do you have an objection to rainbows?”

  “No, I like rainbows.”

  “And children do, too. Just because they’ve turned eleven or twelve doesn’t mean they have to become completely adult in everything they do. I like to have fun, and I believe children learn better when they’re having fun. Amelia was too strict, that’s all there is to it.”

  “I understand she had good test results.”

  Norma’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “Oh, those awful tests! Everyone hates them. The poor kids get so stressed. We all do. I wish they’d do away with any sort of testing and just let the children learn. Children learn so much better in a natural and free environment where they can realize their own potential.” She sighed. “But that’s not going to happen. That’s really the only thing I don’t like about teaching.”

  And probably that was one of the things Amelia didn’t like about Norma. She figured Ms. Olsen would be too soft on the students and their important end of year grades would slip. Or did that mean anything to Amelia? As for a natural and free environment, I knew what most normal kids would do. Run wild and free. “I hope the class does well for you, Norma.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m going to do my best. We’ll make good things happen.” She gazed past me to the playground. “Now who left that book out by the swings? I hope it’s not one of our new library books.”

  When she said that, I realized I still had the stack of textbooks Marshall Lever had put in the back seat. While Norma Olsen sent one of her students to retrieve the library book, I thanked her for her time, said good-by and went back to my car. The stack of books had fallen and scattered over the back seat. I saw a piece of paper between two of them. I tugged the paper free. It was a grant proposal, just like some of the papers I’d seen at Nathan’s house. Had Amelia Lever been trying to sabotage Nathan’s plans, or was this paper left over from one of her other schemes? Two pages were stapled together, and on the second page I found, “Nathan, you need to check this” written at the top in firm dark letters. I took Amelia’s date book out of my pocketbook and compared the handwriting. It was the same. Now I had to revise my theories. Was Amelia trying to help Nathan achieve his goal?

  I kept the paper. I took the books to the office and went to my car. I keep a Celosia phone book under the passenger seat, so I looked up Berkely. There were two Berkleys listed. The first number I called belonged to a woman who informed me I wanted the Other Berkleys. I could hear the capital letters and the disdain.

  “Whatever it is you want, they’re the ones to call,” she said. “I’m not certain which one’s more useless, the mother or the son.”

  A woman also answered the second number, but her voice was weary and not quite coherent. “What?”

  “I’d like to speak to Bobby Berkley, please.”

  “What’s the little jerk done now?”

  Not a very good beginning. “Are you his mother?”

  “Wish to God I wasn’t.”

  “Would you happen to know where he is?”

  “Of course I know where he is. He’s at PR where he belongs. Who is this?”

  “I’m Madeline Maclin. I’m investigating a robbery at the book store. What’s PR?” Somehow I doubted she meant Public Relations.

  “Parkland Reform School. Going to be there until Christmas.” She belched and hung up.

  With such a charming home life, Bobby was probably happy to be sent away. I called Chief Brenner, and he confirmed the information.

  “If he was in town, he’d be our prime suspect,” he said, “but his mother’s right. He’s serving time.”

  “No other leads?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I drove home. On the way, I wondered if I had any sort of case. But I had answers to two questions. Rusty was another Ronald, Ronald McIntire, and Ronald Brown was the only person in town who had liked Amelia Lever.

  Although I couldn’t rule out Nathan. Not yet.

  ***

  As I walked up the porch steps, I heard Jerry at the piano playing “Noel,” and I paused at the door of our parlor, which doubled as a séance room and a music room, to listen. I could tell Jerry was adding his own spin to the familiar carol. At one point, he added a little blues riff and finished with a calypso beat.

  I applauded. “The church will love it.”

  He turned on the bench and grinned. “I call it ‘Multicultural Noel, A Carol For the New Age.’”

  “Any luck with the cards?”

  “Not yet.”

  I took Nathan’s packs out of my pocketbook. “Well, guess what? Nathan received some packs in the mail. Same resealed seals.”

  “Okay, now I know we’re on to something.”

  I took out my phone. “I’m giving Aaron a call. Maybe he got some packs, too.”

  While Jerry spread the cards out on his séance table, I found Aaron’s number in my pocketbook. Once again, I got his se
cretary, who said she’d have Aaron call me at his earliest convenience. I thanked her and closed my phone. “Find anything?” I asked Jerry.

  He shook his head. “I can’t see anything unusual about these.”

  “How about compared with Amelia’s?”

  “Just your standard packs with a few good cards thrown in. Nothing special.”

  I pointed to one card. “What about this king card? Austin mentioned that.”

  “Well, it’s a good card, but it’s no Tongue of Death.”

  I took a closer look at the king card. The Bufo card showed Bufo as King of the Toads, complete with robe, crown, and scepter. He had a very smug look on his wide face. “King of All Four Corners of the World” was written in fancy gold script above his head.

  “Seems like there are duplicates of a lot of these cards, but only one king card.”

  “I’ll keep looking,” Jerry said.

  I had another thought. “I wonder if Elijah’s lawyer knew about this.” I still had Misty May’s number, too, and gave her a call. Like Aaron, she was not available, so I left a message with her secretary to please get in touch with me today, if possible. “Ready for the chateau?” I asked Jerry.

  He gathered the cards into a stack. “You bet. I looked through some of my stuff and found some programs and ticket stubs for Tori. Maybe we can convince her to go to the opera with us next time.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  As we drove to Satterfield Drive, Jerry asked about Amelia Lever. “I’ve got too many questions and not enough answers,” I said.

  “Suspects?”

  “A whole pile of them. Marshall and Kevin have a great motive. They’ve been under their mother’s control all their lives, and now that she’s dead, they’re free to do whatever they want and marry the women they want. Norma Olsen seems really sweet, but she was very upset when Amelia didn’t retire. If she killed Amelia, now she has the job she wanted. Even Rachel’s a suspect. She says she moved her girls to Parkland Academy because of their father, but you heard what Denisha said this morning about Bron being afraid of Mrs. Lever. And one of Amelia’s students heard Rachel arguing with Amelia over the art grant. That gives Rachel two reasons to be mad at Amelia. Then there’s Mrs. Dorman and the rest of the faculty.”