“Hang on,” I said, not really seeing the connection between tofu burgers and TV privileges. “Where are you getting all this? What makes you think Darity wants to do any of that stuff?”
Zeke shrugged. “FirthFirst, dude.”
“What?”
“FirthFirst.” Now he sounded impatient. He sounds like that a lot. Especially when he’s talking to me.
Another protester heard him. “Yeah, that’s where I saw it too,” he said. He was an earnest-looking kid with curly hair. “This morning’s post was all about it.”
Joe blinked at Curly. “Post? What are you guys talking about?”
“Duh. The blog, dude!” Zeke said. “Check it out, maybe you’ll get a clue.”
He hurried off. That left us with Curly. “A blog?” I asked him. “What blog?”
“FirthFirst,” the kid replied.
This was rapidly turning into a “Who’s on First?” routine. But I thought I was starting to get the punchline. “You mean there’s a blog called FirthFirst?” I guessed.
“Yeah. It’s, like, an underground thing.” Curly shot a look around. “Don’t tell any teachers or whatever or it could get shut down.”
I traded a look with Joe. Dr. Darity had bigger things on his mind than shutting down some student blog.
“So should we check it out?” Joe asked as Curly rushed off.
I glanced at my watch. “It’ll have to wait until after dinner. We should get there early so we have plenty of time to talk to people.”
“Like Lee,” Joe guessed.
“And Patton, and maybe Spencer,” I added. “Come on, let’s head in.”
Joe and I split up as we entered. As a school employee, he ate with the rest of the staff in a reserved section off to one side. I was in the main part of the dining hall with the students.
Most of the time I ended up eating with Spencer and the rest of the GTT crew. Today was no exception. I figured that should make it easy to question several of the people on our suspect list at once.
I thought about the case as I waited in the food line. Tonight was tuna casserole. Judging by the smell, we would’ve been better off with the tofu burgers.
When I emerged with my tray, Spencer and Lee were already at the usual table, along with Van and a few others. But someone else was missing.
“Where’s Patton?” I asked as I sat down.
Spencer looked troubled. “Patton hasn’t been sitting with us lately,” he said.
“Yeah,” Van put in with a snort. “Peachy banished himself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “I noticed he wasn’t sitting here at brunch, but I didn’t think much about it.”
That was true, though I didn’t mention the reason for my lack of interest then. Namely, that we hadn’t yet put him back on the suspect list.
Spencer sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s really inside GTT business, Frank, but I know we can trust you not to spread it around,” he said. “See, we gave Patton the bad news yesterday. Officially, you know?”
“Let’s just say he didn’t take it too well,” another senior brother said.
“Yeah.” Spencer shook his head sadly. “Last year he took the news so well that we all hoped he’d do the same this time around. But this year it seems like he’s way more bummed out about not making it in. Nobody from GTT told him he couldn’t sit with us or hang out with us anymore. But he’s pretty much gone into hiding as far as we’re concerned.”
One of the others glanced around the room. “Looks like he can’t even stand to be in the same dining room with us,” he said. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
“Nope, there he is,” Lee said. “He’s just a little late, that’s all.”
I followed his gaze. Patton had just entered the dining hall. He still looked a little overdressed, just as he had that morning. His wool coat was open to reveal a button-down shirt and dark slacks.
That made me flash back to my earlier conversation with Joe. Namely, the part where we’d speculated that Patton might have contacted Nigel Nabb. Could he be dressed up today because he knew he might end up on national TV?
As he emerged from the line with his tray a few minutes later, Patton looked over at our table. But he turned away quickly, hurrying over to one nearby. It was empty except for three brothers named Albert, Aloysius, and Alastair, who were the primary members of a campus band called Devoured by Bears. The trio glanced at the newcomer only briefly before returning to their own conversation.
Interesting. It really did look as if Patton was holding a grudge.
And no wonder. Getting into GTT had seemed really important to him. And now he’d been denied not once, but twice. Could he be angry enough to lash out at the frat? If so, how did the stuff with Destiny figure in? Was it just because she was dating Lee? I hadn’t thought many people knew about that, but you never knew. News did travel fast at Firth….
I was distracted from my thoughts by a boisterous shout. It was Zeke. He was standing on the table, waving his protest sign.
That was nothing unusual. Zeke loved nothing more than being the center of attention. And he didn’t much care how he got there.
The difference this time was that he actually had an interested audience. Nigel Nabb was standing there, filming away.
“That’s it!” the reporter called out in his distinctive accent. “Tell me how you really feel, mate.”
Uh-oh. Wandering around campus was one thing, but the dining hall seemed a lot more like private property. How had the reporter gotten in? I could only imagine what Dr. Darity and Dr. Montgomery would say when they caught Nigel stirring up trouble right under their noses.
I glanced toward the headmasters’ table at the end of the room. Darity was nowhere in sight. But Dr. Montgomery was shooting an icy glare in Nigel’s direction.
The GTT brothers were watching Zeke’s antics too. “Man, I’m glad that clown never tried to rush,” one of them muttered.
“Seriously,” Van agreed. Seeing me watching Montgomery, he added, “I’m surprised old man Montgomery isn’t stepping in to put a stop to the show.”
“I’m surprised Darity hasn’t kicked that Nabb dude off campus yet,” another brother said. “He doesn’t usually put up with that kind of mess.”
Spencer glanced at Destiny, who was sitting at the next table. “Darity’s had other things on his mind lately.”
Lee grinned. “Whatever. Here comes Dr. M’s enforcer. He’ll probably send her over to knock some heads together.”
I guessed he was referring to Mrs. Wilson, who had just hurried up to the headmasters’ table. She shrugged off her coat and sat down in her usual seat beside Montgomery.
The two of them conferred briefly, their expressions grim. I was way too far away to hear them, but a moment later they both turned and stared at Nigel.
“Doesn’t look like either of them is planning to do anything,” I commented.
“You know how Dr. M is,” Lee said, digging into his casserole. “Probably thinks it’s not proper or whatever.”
That made sense. Dr. Montgomery wore his strong sense of decorum and etiquette proudly and openly. The only thing that might stop him from kicking Nigel out himself was the fear that doing so might be seen as stepping on Dr. Darity’s toes. So where was the headmaster, anyway?
“Yo, Frank!” Joe skidded to a stop beside the table, breathless and wide-eyed. “Did you hear? Someone totally trashed Darity’s house!”
Damage Done
Whoa!” I stared around me. “This is hardcore.”
“Totally,” Frank agreed. We were in Darity’s house. The place looked like the mother of all tornados had torn through it. If tornados could write rude stuff on the walls in black spray paint, that is.
Every piece of furniture was tipped over or turned upside down. Shattered glass was everywhere, thanks to several broken windows, numerous cracked picture frames, and a bunch of smashed dishes. Clothes and bedding had been wadded up and stuffed in the toilets or
trampled underfoot. Toothpaste and shampoo streaked the wallpaper, shaving cream dripped from the antique light fixtures, and food from the fridge was smeared all over everything. Toilet paper was looped up and down the staircase. Books were ripped and flung around. Every TV, stereo, and computer in the house lay smashed and broken on the floor.
We’d raced right over from the dining hall after I got the call. Darity had been waiting to hustle us inside.
“I can’t believe it.” The headmaster’s voice shook a little as he looked around now. “Who would be sick enough to do something like this?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out, sir.” Frank turned toward him. “I take it nobody was home when this happened?”
Darity pushed his glasses up his nose. “No,” he said. “Destiny was at soccer practice, I suppose, and then dinner. And the housekeeper was in town doing some shopping. She’s the one who discovered this—this mess, and called me on my cell.”
“Where were you?” I asked.
“One of my meetings was canceled at the last minute, so I had a rare couple of free hours before dinner.” The headmaster sighed, looking tired. “I decided to spend it taking a long walk in the woods to clear my mind. I was a little late getting back, so I was just heading straight to the dining hall when Beatrice called. She was hysterical, as you can well imagine.” His gaze wandered around the upstairs hallway, where we were standing at the moment. “I can’t even fathom the level of anger that would cause someone to do this. As if they were determined to destroy absolutely everything in this house …”
I was still looking around. Frank and I have seen some vandalized places in our day. This one was pretty typical.
Or was it? Something was bugging me about what I was seeing. I just wasn’t sure what it was.
“Hang on,” I said as the answer finally clicked into place in my head. “I just noticed something.”
“What?” Frank asked.
I moved down the hall, glancing into one room and then another. I wanted to be sure I was right before I said anything. Each look confirmed my idea.
“Check it out,” I said. “The place looks like a wreck. But the damage is limited.”
“What?” Darity stared at me as if I were crazy.
“No, seriously,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s a ton of damage. But not to the house itself, really, or the antiques.”
Frank got it right away. “Dr. Darity, is most of the furniture in here yours?” he asked. “I mean, your personal stuff that you brought with you when you moved in?”
“No,” Darity replied. “The headmaster’s residence comes furnished. Most of the furniture and rugs and such belong to the school.”
Darity looked a little like an absentminded professor. But he was actually a pretty sharp guy. I could tell he was already catching on.
He hurried into a bedroom nearby. When we joined him, he was scanning the room.
“You’re right,” he said. “Most of my clothes and personal belongings—utterly destroyed. But that belongs to Firth.” He pointed to an ancient-looking ceramic vase perched atop the fireplace mantel. You could have blown it over with a sneeze. But there it was, safe and sound despite the chaos all around it.
Frank glanced at the upended bedside table and a tipped-over chair. “The furniture looks like a mess, but nothing’s really damaged, just tossed around,” he said. “Once you have the rugs cleaned and the walls scrubbed, it’ll all be good as new.”
We headed back out to the hallway. “I guess this means I was the target here,” Darity said grimly.
Frank nodded. “Looks that way. Whoever did this was sending a message either to you or to—”
“Oh, man!” Destiny Darity’s voice yelled from directly below us. “I thought those jerks at dinner were punking me. What happened?”
“Destiny!” Darity blanched. He leaned over the stair railing. “Don’t come up here, sweetheart!”
Destiny ignored him, charging up the steps. “My room!” she shouted. “If they touched my stuff, I’ll kill them!”
I winced, shooting Frank a look. We’d seen Destiny’s room. Whoever had done this? He or she had definitely touched her stuff.
A moment later Destiny let out a wail. Yeah, she’d seen it too. She started ranting loudly about each damaged item.
“We should get her out of here,” said Frank. “The police won’t want her messing with the crime scene.”
“Actually, I haven’t called the police,” Darity said. “I’d prefer to keep this incident quiet. Especially with that reporter fellow sniffing around. I haven’t had a chance to track him down and escort him off campus yet, and if a story like this ends up in the national media, the trustees will have a fit.”
Okay, so Darity was a busy guy. But hadn’t he just said he’d taken a long walk in the woods? Seemed to me he might have used that time better. Like kicking Nigel’s British behind out of Firth. But hey, what did I know?
“It might be too late to hush things up,” Frank said. “It sounds like Destiny heard the news from someone at the dining hall.”
“True.” Darity looked troubled. “But surely nobody in the Firth community would share something like this with a reporter.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. But this was no time to argue about it.
“Okay.” I glanced toward Destiny’s room as a flurry of irritated curses floated out to us. “But cops or not, we still don’t want her messing with the crime scene until we get a chance to look around.”
“Gotcha,” Darity said.
He led the way into Destiny’s room. It was a mess, like the rest of the house. Then again, Destiny’s room was always a mess. I wasn’t sure how she could tell what the vandal had done.
She was still ranting and cursing angrily, flinging ripped and dirty clothes around. But just as we entered, she turned to face her bedside table. And suddenly went silent.
“Destiny?” her father said. “Come on, let’s get you out of here, all right?”
Destiny didn’t answer. When I looked at her, I did a double take. Were those … tears in her eyes? Even after everything that had happened to her, I’d never seen her cry before.
She picked up something from the bedside table. It looked like a photograph that had been ripped almost in half.
“Who would do this? Who could be so—so cruel?” she whispered. It was pretty clear she wasn’t talking to us. Her eyes never left the photo.
I could see only part of it. The subject was a pretty, laughing woman with lush dark hair. She looked a lot like Destiny, actually. I guessed it had to be her late mother.
“Come on,” Frank said softly. “Let’s give her a minute.”
I nodded and followed him out of the room. Darity stayed behind with his daughter.
“Okay, let’s get started,” said Frank.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out JuDGE. That’s our nickname for our Junior Data Gathering Equipment device, courtesy of the geniuses at ATAC. One of JuDGE’s coolest features is a tiny laser scanner beam. It’s the latest technology. All you have to do is shine it on a surface, and it picks up any fingerprints that might be there.
We went to work. While Frank wielded the laser scanner, I took photos of everything with my ATAC-issue phone camera. I sent them to HQ as I went. The experts there could analyze them for any clues.
Good thing, too. Because Frank and I weren’t turning up much. The only fingerprints we found belonged to Darity, Destiny, and the housekeeper.
“This is getting us exactly nowhere.” Frank snapped the laser back into its spot in JuDGE’s casing. “Maybe we should check out the entry point.”
“Okay, where’s that?” I said.
Frank shrugged. “I don’t think Darity mentioned it. Let’s go ask him.”
It turned out Darity hadn’t mentioned an entry point because there wasn’t one. “There was no breaking and entering that I could find,” he reported when we asked. “Either one of us forgot to lock up, or who
ever did this had a key to get in.”
Frank and I traded a look. I was sure he was thinking the same thing I was. That key he’d seen Lee take from Darity’s office.
“Joe and I will double-check the possible entry points,” Frank told Darity. “Maybe see if the access point could have been a broken window, or—what was that?”
I’d just heard what he’d heard. Shouts from somewhere outside.
We all rushed to the nearest window. Down below, by the front door, we saw Nigel peering through the viewfinder of his video camera. A lean, gray-haired woman was jumping around, yelling for him to stop.
“Uh-oh,” Darity said grimly. “Looks like Beatrice needs some backup.”
We all raced downstairs and outside. Nigel was still filming away. The housekeeper looked relieved to see us.
“I caught this scoundrel trying to peek in the windows,” she cried.
“What’s going on in there?” asked Nigel. “Looks mighty messy for a master’s manse, eh?”
“This is private property,” Darity said sternly. “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have the police come and escort you off.”
“And why’s that, mate?” Nigel turned the camera on him. “Fancy Firth have something wicked to withhold?”
Just then he noticed me and Frank standing there. He blanched and looked around. I hid a smile as I realized what he was doing. Looking for Killer. For once, I wished I had old Fuzzy Face with me.
“Never mind, mates.” Nigel shouldered his camera. “I’ve got all the footage I need for now. Night, all.”
With that, he scurried away and disappeared into the darkness. “Good riddance,” Beatrice muttered.
“Hey!” Destiny appeared in the doorway behind us. She seemed to have recovered from her sadness. Now she just looked angry. She stomped up to her father, ignoring the rest of us. “I just found these in my room. Have you been snooping around in there?”
She held up a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. Darity blinked at them in surprise.
“My reading glasses!” he said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for those. Lost them a couple of days ago.”
“Was that while you were going through my stuff behind my back?” Destiny demanded.
Killer Connections Page 5
