Eve shot a glance in the rearview. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. He’s a game developer, and he’s been working for Roarke World for a couple years. I can round him up if you want to jaw.”
“I want to jaw.”
“Solid. I’ll fix it. We hung out a lot back then because, you know, gaming. He’s wicked smart, and totally nerdy. Might as well flash a Kick My Ass sign to the assholes, you know? They wanted him to hack in for tests, or do their work, like that. I was taking martial arts, showed him some moves. It helped a little.”
“And the school—the administration—let it slide?”
“From what I know, yeah. He was there on scholarship, and got a full ride to MIT, so yeah, wicked smart.”
“Grange, former headmaster, either decided to take another job in the middle of the school year or was nudged out. Rufty, spouse of the first vic, came on and clamped down. Some weren’t happy about it. Second vic’s the spouse of a teacher who complained about Grange, and who transferred to Columbia. But he and Rufty got along fine during the term they worked together. Rufty states there were rumors that Grange had an affair—either with staff or daddies. Her husband filed for a divorce about the same time. We’ll be jawing with him, too.”
McNab gulped down his own fizzy. “Are you looking at her—Grange?”
“She’s in East Washington. We’ll check her travel, though it’s a doable drive. But nothing in her background shows an affinity for chemistry. Her ex—that would be second ex—is the CEO of All Fresh, and that’s a lot of chemistry.”
The Theresa A. Gold Academy rose five weathered brick stories. Security cams winked over its double entrance doors.
Eve pulled into a loading zone, flipped on her On Duty light.
“School’ll be out for the day.” McNab stood on the sidewalk, studied the building. “That’ll make it easier.”
“Have you ever been in a school after hours?” Callendar asked.
“I guess, yeah.”
“Creepy.” And she grinned. “I can dig on creepy.”
“They board,” Eve added. “Top floors are dormitories. They have some administrative staff round the clock.”
She approached the door, tried it, found it locked. She considered mastering in just for the hell of it, but hit the buzzer instead.
Welcome to the Theresa A. Gold Academy. Regular school hours are eight A.M. to three P.M., Monday through Friday, with specialty classes from nine A.M. to two P.M. on Saturday. Lectures and performances are listed on the website. If you are here for an after-hours appointment or visit, please state your name and the party with whom you wish to meet.
Eve thought: Blah, blah, blah. “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. We’re here on police business. You can inform whoever’s currently in charge.” She glanced at her PPC as the warrant came through. “We have a duly executed warrant to enter and search.”
Please wait one moment while Assistant Headmaster Myata is informed.
It didn’t take much longer for the doors to release and open. A small, trim Asian woman with a wedge of raven-black hair held out a hand as delicate as a bird’s wing.
“Lieutenant Dallas. I’m Kim Myata, assistant headmaster. Headmaster Rufty contacted me to let me know to expect you. Please come in.”
The impressive entrance bore a large gold seal centered in the white marble floor. Two security stations flanked it. The ceiling soared up five floors with a stained-glass dome.
One wall held an enormous glass case displaying a multitude of awards. On another a life-size portrait of the benefactor and founder loomed.
To Eve’s eye Theresa A. Gold, dead for a half century, looked pretty damn formidable.
Despite the grandeur, white marble, gilt frames, glittery gold behind glass, it still smelled like school.
Sweat, fear, hormones, secreted candy.
Eve had never been fond.
“We’re all grieving with the headmaster,” Myata continued. “We are ready to help and cooperate with your investigation into this tragedy. I hope I haven’t overstepped by accessing the records Headmaster Rufty informed me you needed.”
“We can take it from there. Are they in his office?”
“Yes. I’ve kept his office locked until he contacted me regarding this. I have his passcodes, as he has mine. Dr. Rufty also informs me his daughter found a tablet you wish to have. She is bringing it here for you.”
“We can have it picked up.”
“I believe she’s already on her way.”
“Fine. EDD can take it when she gets here.”
“I’ll see to it. Is it possible to have a copy of the warrant, in case there are legal issues?”
“Peabody.”
“I’ll print it out for you.”
“Thank you. Please come this way. Most of the day students are gone for the day,” she continued as she led them to the left and the glass-walled administration department. “We do have a few students doing projects, with supervision. The boarding students are restricted to the fourth and fifth floors unless they have permission to leave the premises or work on a project.”
She swiped a card.
There was a long counter, currently unmanned, several seats in a waiting area, and a pair of workstations. “The headmaster’s office is this way.”
Eve imagined students called it the Walk of Shame, the Gauntlet, or some other colorful term, that trudge down a hallway, past doors, into the depths and the quiet.
Again, Myata used a swipe on the door with the plaque that read: HEADMASTER MARTIN B. RUFTY.
He had a generous space, a window with the privacy shields engaged, a desk facing the door holding a multiline data and communication center, a couple of framed photos—family—interesting glass paperweights anchoring actual paper. Shelves of books, a huge corkboard holding announcements and playbills—theater, concerts, lectures, science fairs, career day, and so on.
He had live plants that appeared to be thriving, a small refreshment center, and a tiny sitting area that looked cozy rather than intimidating.
“If there is anything more I can do…” Myata broke off, and her eyes filled. “Pardon me. I was very fond of Dr. Abner.”
“Were you here when Dr. Rufty came on as headmaster?”
“No. I was honored to join this administration two years ago. Dr. Rufty is an excellent headmaster, an excellent educator. We have suspended classes tomorrow in honor of Dr. Abner, and will take the students who wish to attend to his memorial.”
“I’m sure Dr. Rufty will find that very comforting,” Peabody told her.
“I hope he will. I have left the records you need on his unit. I understand you may look for others. Or need to take the unit. He has given his permission for this. Is there more I can do, Lieutenant?”
“Actually, yeah. I’m going to let EDD take this. Why don’t you give me a tour?”
“Of course. I would be happy to show you our school. We’re very proud of it.”
“Great.” Eve sent a silent signal to Peabody. “My partner could take a look at some of the classroom areas. I’d like to see the labs.”
“Of course. Which labs would you like to see?”
“Chemistry. Let’s start there.”