Death by Diploma, page 17
Emma’s eyes said, Do you really think someone would murder over high school sports?
And Leslie’s eyebrows roller coastered with a, Honey, you have no idea.
Emma knelt and held Adam’s frail shoulder bones. “Adam, this is very important. Was it a coach or teacher changing the grades?”
He shrugged. “I saw it, I dunno, happening actually. This one kid who’s an office aide alters the eligibility reports before he takes them in to the secretary. Or, you know, maybe he goes in and alters them when she’s on her break if he isn’t the one who picks them up. Not sure if it’s a coach calling the shots or a player. Or maybe the secretary is letting him do it, I dunno.” He ducked his head. “I didn’t know who to tell now that Melvin’s, like, gone. I’m really sorry.” He expelled a huge breath, and his shoulders drooped even farther.
This time Leslie knelt and grasped Adam. “No, it’s all right. We’ll take care of it, okay? And you… well, you can come and talk to us any ol’ time. We can just listen, or if you want, we have ways of dealing with asshole bullies.” She winked and gestured toward the gym. “Just ask the guy with the nosebleed.”
Chapter 25
“Well, what do you think about that?” asked Emma. “The note couldn’t have anything to do with Melvin’s murder because—”
Leslie finished her sentence. “Because they hadn’t gotten anyone in trouble yet. I mean, even if someone had found out Melvin was asking about CHSSA rules—”
“It probably wouldn’t be that office aide kid.” She thought for a minute. “What about Melvin needing to find the grade changers to fix a mistake he’d made? What kind of a mistake could he have been talking about? And do you think that could have gotten him killed?”
“Oh, aarrgghh.” Leslie sighed. “‘Why dost thou show to the apt hearts of men the things that are not?’”
“That’s right. Not clues, not solutions, not killers.” Emma felt discouraged.
Leslie said, “I’ll tell you what. After fifth period, let’s go talk to Hunter, tell him what we learned. Maybe he’ll have some ideas.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Emma said. “Oh, listen to my plans for fifth period! After the silent reading I start all my classes with, we’re going to work on improvisational speeches. It’s this really great idea I found on the Internet—they pick topics from a cup of popsicle sticks and have to talk about the topic for one minute straight.” She smiled. “I don’t expect them all to be able to do it right away.” Then she thought for a moment. “Hey, do you think I should talk to Kayla Quinlan during silent reading? I don’t remember if I told you this, but Charlie pulled her out of my class yesterday. They have a coach/player relationship that looked sketchy, to say the least. Maybe she’ll let something slip about him and his great plan to help her keep her grades up.”
They arrived at Leslie’s room.
“Why not?” Leslie said. “Melvin was involved in a little investigation of his own, and it was about sports and changing grades, and Charlie’s all about sports and eligibility. If Kayla’s involved with him though, she’ll probably clam up. Just test the waters. If we find out they’re involved, we’re taking it to the police. Superintendent’s son or no.”
After wading through the three-fifteen flood of students, they arrived in front of Hunter’s room in the social studies wing and entered. The room looked like a real teacher’s room instead of an eligibility spy’s, with one wall covered completely in map-of-the-world wallpaper.
“Hallooo, Hunter!” called Leslie.
Emma just smiled at the handsome hunk sitting at his desk. She was so grateful he wasn’t a killer.
He smiled back. “Hello, ladies. Are you here with news on the investigation? Not that you need a reason to visit, but…” He smiled wider and winked at Emma.
“Yes! We have some of the evidence you’re searchin’ for! For which you are searchin’.” Emma winked back. “Just that there are grades being changed—no evidence yet that one or more of the coaches are involved.”
Leslie explained their meeting with Adam. “Then Emma saw Charlie Foreman acting kinda sleazy with one of his golfers.” She raised eyebrows at Emma. “Did you talk to her last hour?”
“I did. She was really forthcomin’, said Charlie told her he could be really… convincing when it came to helping his athletes stay eligible. When I asked her how he did that, she said she had no idea but that she wasn’t about to question someone who’s helping her be a champion.”
“My associate at CHSSA has actually spoken to both of the office aides from last year,” said Hunter, “and we couldn’t get them to say anything, nor could we connect them to a specific coach or teacher or even to a certain team. Maybe now that we have a witness, we can use that as leverage. As far as proving it’s Charlie Foreman…” He shook his head. “He’s so slimy. But that’s not proof.”
“He uses his father all the time,” Leslie said. “There was a first-year teacher—oh, a few years ago, I guess—who had a background as a football coach. Former college player, really good. Nathan was looking to get him involved in the program, but everyone knew Charlie didn’t see him as help, just competition. So he worked some kind of nepotistic magic and made sure the guy’s provisional teaching contract didn’t get renewed.” She looked at Emma. “Did Kayla say anything else about that douche?”
Emma shook her head. “When I sort of hinted that she might have, you know, feelings for the man, you should’ve seen that girl’s face! It instantly puckered up like she’d squeezed a whole box a’lemons in her mouth. ‘Eeeeewww, gross,’ she said. ‘Me and Charlie? He’s totally old, like forty! And he’s only got, like, one eyebrow, and his gut looks like he’s pregnant.’ Then she shivered and said eeewwww again, so I let her go back to silent reading.” Emma grinned. “I really, really don’t think she was pretending.”
Hunter walked over to the map wall. Leslie took his chair, and Emma perched on the edge of his desk, doing some neck rolls. The wound to the back of her head was very sensitive, but she’d been doing neck rolls all day, which, instead of splitting her stitches, made her feel better, more relaxed.
“So where do we go from here?” Emma asked. “How can we find out if it’s a teacher or student behind the grade changes?”
“I’ve been thinking about the break-ins in your classroom, Leslie,” said Hunter.
“My poor classroom,” Leslie replied. “Why, did you know that theater mask, the beautiful one on the bookshelf, was shattered into a million pieces? I got that mask on a student trip to London, for Pete’s sake.”
“You took students to London?” Emma asked.
“Yes, there are all sorts of companies doing student educational trips. This one was a theater-focused trip, and we saw eight Shakespeare plays in the actual Globe Theatre and the Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford!”
“Fantastic,” Emma breathed. “In the original place he invented them, no less.”
“Well, not the original original Globe. That one burned down in 1613. Prop malfunction in Henry the Eighth. The students and I went to the new original Globe Theatre.”
“That one was built in 1997, right?” Emma asked.
“Right, young Grasshoppah!” Leslie said, smiling. “They started with a performance of Henry the Fifth. You know, it’s interesting to note—”
“Ladies! Ladies,” Hunter interrupted as he walked back to the desk. “Much as I am enjoying this impromptu history-slash-English lesson, we were talking about your classroom.”
“My poor maligned classroom.”
“Your poor maligned classroom where your poor maligned friend was so grievously injured.”
Emma touched her head. “Not grievously. My head hitting that desk was nothing compared to what happened to poor Melvin.”
“Exactly!” Hunter said. “So despite the two break-ins to your room, Leslie, nothing was taken and we still don’t know what they wanted. Right?”
“Right.” Leslie looked at Emma. “Except we do know what they wanted.”
Emma looked back at her friend. Where is Leslie’s personal hiding place? And what does she hide there? “Of course we do! Why, we’re the worst detectives ever. We should’ve figured this out after the first break-in.”
“But how do we prove it?”
Emma thought. “We need to set a trap. We’ll have to get the police involved.”
Leslie’s face mirrored Kayla Quinlan’s. “Eeeewwwww. Are you sure? Carl the Clueless hasn’t helped us so far at all.”
“No, but Ah sure could’ve used him and his gun—or better yet, that gigantic sidekick of his with his gun—on the day I came back to retrieve Melvin’s cigar box. Now that there’s a real scandal connected to the school and we have witnesses, I think the police should be involved.”
“Aw, snap. I suppose.” Leslie huffed. “What kind of trap were you thinking?”
Hunter Wells stood in front of Leslie and Emma, watching their exchange as if he were viewing a tennis match. He put a hand on Emma’s knee. “Stop. I’m getting dizzy. Excuse me if I’m being obtuse, but what, exactly, were you not able to figure out that is now becoming so clear?” He gazed beseechingly at Emma.
“Ah’m sorry, Hunter! That’s right, you’ve only been out of the suspect pool for a little while, and I forgot to tell you this news.”
“They were looking for my gradebook,” Leslie said. “Whoever broke in wanted the backup gradebook I write grades in as well as the computer grading program.”
A light broke in Hunter’s eyes. “So if Charlie’s getting grades changed in the school’s program—”
“Leslie’s book would have to match up. Anyone with a hard-copy gradebook would have to match up to the computer. So we just need to set a trap telling Charlie where the gradebooks are, then we…”
“Along with the police, apparently,” Leslie said in her most put-upon voice, “can wait for him to appear and steal the hard copies. Which he’s been trying to do since after he killed Melvin. Then we bust ’im. Hey, has anyone heard of another room being broken into? I can’t be the only hard-copy dinosaur with players on the roll sheets.”
Everybody shook their heads.
“Wow,” Emma said. “We’re really slow on the uptake. I think this will work though, don’t you? Hey, and do you think Janice was involved too? Janice Tichner, the secretary? Remember that voice I heard out by the weight room? I’m sure it was talking to a woman. Maybe it was Janice.”
“Yeah, that makes sense!” said Leslie. “Adam said he thought the aide would wait for a break to change the grades, but maybe she was in on it too.”
“And Edward, you have to hear about Edward, who was a suspect like you.” Emma said slyly, “Hm. School’s out now, and after some grading at home, I’m sure I’ll be famished.”
Hunter grinned. “I have to hear about Edward the suspect. Can I pick you up for dinner at six?”
“Six sounds good,” Emma breathed, and she lost herself in his melty gaze.
“Ahem,” Leslie interrupted. “I’m so glad I have the perfect idea for a trap, as you two have rendered each other useless as detectives.”
Emma shook herself free of Hunter’s look. “Oh, good! What were you thinking?”
“First of all, Hunter, we’d have to let Martha Bonaventure in on the grade-changing scandal.”
Hunter chuckled. “Oh yeah, Martha. Martha keeps herself way removed from anything having to do with sports or Lounge Lizards, especially Charlie Foreman.”
“I think we can trust she’s not involved,” Leslie said. “But just in case, I’m not going to tell her this goes with our murder investigation. Just the grade-changing scandal.” She looked satisfied.
“Oh, sure,” said Emma. “If she’s involved, then she obviously won’t show up for our trap, and we can try something else.”
“So, Emma, you go home and take care of your teaching duties. I’ll find Martha, and we’ll organize a special early edition of the newspaper. If we can do it tonight and distribute it tomorrow, then it will go to all the students and staff.”
Emma said, “If everyone with hard-copy gradebooks has to turn them in at the end of the school day on Friday, then we could have the police at school on Friday night, and Charlie, or Janice, or Janice and Charlie, will have to try to come retrieve them.”
“Excuse me,” said Leslie. “We and the police. I’m sure you meant to say we and the police can be at the school on Friday night. But otherwise, I think that’s perfect. All the teachers know that Nathan works all weekend. The teachers can turn them in directly to him on Friday, and he can lock them up until he comes back for them. They’ll assume Nathan’s going to check them on Saturday morning, so they’ll have to try and steal them Friday night.”
“Nathan the principal?” Emma asked. “He works on… weekends? I thought he didn’t work at all.”
Leslie shook her head. “That’s what he wants students to think. He believes they won’t relate to him if it looks like he takes his job too seriously, so he does the bare minimum all week and works his butt off when they’re not here. It’s actually impressive how much he can get done in two days. So the teachers will know better than to think he won’t check their books, and they’ll make sure to get them in on time. If the murderer is one of the secretaries, they won’t try to open the lock box during the day, and if it’s Charlie, he’ll have to break into the lock box after hours. It’s the perfect sting! I can’t wait!”
“I don’t know,” Emma replied, setting aside her principal’s guerrilla-like work ethic. She could learn to deal with his oddities when this was all over. “Despite your reliance on personal strength and those dodgeball-throwing biceps, I think we maybe should leave it to those big guys with guns I’ve wanted all along.”
Hunter flexed his arms. “Hey. I’m a big guy with guns.”
Emma giggled. “Gee, Popeye, thanks for the help, but I would feel more comfortable if we included the ones with bullets. Call me crazy, but this loon has already killed someone and maybe would have killed me if it weren’t for Sir Toby.”
He harrumphed. “Sir Toby? I’m pretty sure it was my timely interference that scared that ol’ killer away.”
“Sure,” she said. They shared a goofy look. She had to restrain herself from smoothing the black hair curling above his brow.
Leslie rolled her eyes. “Oh, jeez, can we please get on to the business at hand? This lovey-dovey pseudo-PDA nonsense is going to make me puke.”
Emma thought for a minute. “All right. We and the police. And our Terminators.”
“All right, all joking aside,” Hunter said, “you’ve already been in two dangerous situations, and this one is even more dangerous. Charlie will be getting desperate. Maybe we should just let the police take care of it.”
Leslie jumped out of Hunter’s chair. “Come on, Hunter! You could be there too, to protect us. I know you’d love to see this culmination of your investigation as it happens. ‘Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.’ Macbeth.”
The two women moved around the desk. The more Emma thought about it, the more she wanted to be a part of it. For Melvin.
“Please, Hunter,” Emma begged. “You can use your special investigator status to get us in good with Detective Niome.”
Hunter crossed his arms and stepped back, eyeing the women suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure you two aren’t looking for protection. Looking for partners in crime, maybe. Adrenaline rush, for sure. But you’re right, I’d like to see this come to a solution. Leslie, go set up the newspaper edition, and I’ll call the detective. No, I’ll go see him actually. He might be mad about being left out of the CHSSA loop. Leslie, will you lock my room? I know you have keys for all of our classrooms.” He winked and headed for the door. “Emma, see you tonight.”
He left his room ahead of the two. Emma, of course, watched him go.
This news, which is called true, is so like a tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion.
—The Winter’s Tale V.2.27–9
Chapter 26
Thursday, September 3
GPA GRENADE!!
Eligibility Scandal Explodes—Staff Members to Turn in Hard-Copy Gradebooks
First thing Thursday morning, the students and teachers were asked—loudly, over the PA—to show their pride in TJ High and share the paper with anyone they could.
Emma and Leslie met for lunch, sharing Mrs. Albert’s dish of salmon over mixed greens. After the newspaper had gone out during first period, Emma gave her American Lit class some time to read it. Then she’d turned it into a literary history lesson.
“Really, the first newspaper was invented in 59 BC,” Emma told Leslie, “but since this was American Literature, we talked about the first newspaper in the American colonies, circa 1690. Then they got to discuss which issues they think are most important, and they’re bringin’ their own headlines to class tomorrow.” She smiled and chomped up lettuce like a hungry bunny.
“But that paper only had one issue, right?” Leslie asked, spooning up salmon. “Censorship and control issues have been around since people started communicating, it seems.” She winked at Emma. “You have fantastically creative ideas, Ms. Lovett. I predict you will change the lives of many.”
Emma blushed. “Ah sure hope Ah can.” She picked up her edition of the school news. “Provided we can find Melvin’s killer and bring him to justice without getting ourselves killed in the process.”
“Hunter will get Carl Niome and his barrel-chested sidekick in the picture. Hunter will be in the picture. Plus, come on, we will be in the picture. Amazonians. Hear us roar.”
