Amateur Hour

Ted

“Working, on a Saturday?” Ted eyeballed the kitchen table, and the evidence, with a frown.

“Brainstorming some ideas,” Liam said. “They aren’t ready for you, yet,” he added, when Ted picked up Janice’s note pad, to look at it.

“We wanted to sort some things out, and make a written proposal, of sorts, for you to consider.”

“You’re asking for trouble, with some of these,” he said, glancing from Janice’s notes, to Liam’s.

“Which ones?” Liam asked. He was ready to be defensive, as usual, Ted’s mind added.

“The phones, for starters. I don’t disagree that they should have them, but, if they’re given unlimited access, they’ll be a distraction.”

“Of course, we didn’t intend to allow them, during class,” Liam frowned.

“No, but you have to think like these kids. They’re rule breakers — it’s their nature.”

“So, we enforce the rules.” He was beginning to scowl.

“Or, change them,” Janice mused.

“What do you mean, Jan?”

We allow the phones, but only in their own dorm rooms. That way, the phones stay stowed in their backpacks, as we actually intended. If we see one, we give a stern warning, but no real punishment.”

“Exactly,” Ted agreed. “Shoot for something less than Utopia, and you’ll get better results.”

“I guess I forgot I was a psychologist, for a moment,” Janice admitted.

“You just want to make things better,” Nina said. “No one can blame you, for that.”

“Anything else?” Liam asked Ted. His tone was cautious.

“Jewelry. I don’t think it’s a good idea, for them to have too many valuables, lying around. Even rich kids will steal, from each other.”

“I was hoping we could even offer class rings, one day.” The jewelry item had been on Liam’s pad, but it was Janice who spoke. Apparently, each had been writing down the ideas, of the other. Ted felt like a heel, disappointing her.

“Let me think about it, Janice. I’m not saying, ‘no’. I’m saying that you don’t want to do too much, too soon. Let’s revisit the topic, later.”

“All right.” She was still unhappy, he could see.

“What sports are you considering, with regard to the athletics item?” This time, he directed the question, properly, to Liam

“What can we manage? I know football would be a huge undertaking, so that’s a non-starter, just now. But basketball, volleyball, soccer, and maybe even badminton, seem viable. All intramural, of course. Outside competition, is a long way down the road.”

“We could install a track, as well. Possibly, a couple of tennis courts. Might I make a suggestion?”

“It’s your school, so I think you may,” Liam managed a small smile.

“It’s not a sport, but it just occurred to me, and it could fit your ‘make Honors Students the real thing’ note. You might want to implement a debate club, and a science club. Teams like those could immediately compete, with other schools, and get some of the kids off campus, from time to time.”

“A gentleman, and an educator,” Liam observed, with some admiration.

“I’m all for getting them out and about, on occasion,” Janice said. “But, is that fair to students who aren’t on the team?”

“Some could go, as spectators,” Liam replied. “Make it a reward, maybe, for academic effort. A privilege that can be earned.”

“Have you thought about arts, at all?” Nina asked. She looked a bit uncomfortable with having put an oar in, but Ted was proud of her.

“We didn’t get that far,” Liam confessed. “You’re right. Arts shouldn’t be overlooked. As of now, we have three art classes, a week, and the teacher is indifferent, at best. I’ve seen a lot of lecturing, and films, but little application. No wonder the kids aren’t enthusiastic.”

“They should be slinging paint, and making messes,” Nina opined, with more confidence, now. “Music? Drama?”

“Blame me, for the lack of a Drama class.” Ted said. “Drama is usually handled by an English teacher, and I should have made more effort.”

“You’re not the only English teacher there, Ted,” Janice pointed out. “And, you’ve been busy.”

“You’re going to have to replace me, at any rate,” he sighed. “Look for someone with a Dramatic Arts degree.” It was a wrench, to think of giving up teaching. He had avoided thinking about it, as much as he could.

“Better idea,” Liam grinned, “you atone for your sins, by teaching Drama classes, a few evenings, a week.”

Ted considered. “I don’t hate that idea.”

“It would be fun, for you,” Nina said. “I think you should.”

“I’ll think about it. But look for an English Lit teacher with a Dramatic Arts background, anyway.”

“Maybe we should take a walk around the neighborhood, and compile a list of the other teachers we’re going to have to replace.” Janice’s tone was dry, but she still looked shaken, by the exodus.

“Some of our expected staffing problems seem to be solving themselves,” Liam observed. “At least, we’ve been saved a few terminations.”

**************

Liam

“If it wasn’t a crime scene, before, it is, now.” Janice bent, to retrieve a sheaf of papers at her feet, that had fallen out of their folder.

“It it looks more like the aftermath a raid, than of an investigation.” Liam took in the open file cabinet drawers, stacks of files that had toppled off the secretary’s desk, and the rest of the disarray, with a noisy exhalation. “I’m almost afraid to look at Starkey’s office.”

“It’s your office, now, Sweetie.”

“Our office. There’s more than enough room, for both of us.”

“I’d rather stay where I am. I’m still a guidance counselor. It makes sense to offer the kids some privacy.”

“Will you hire a separate counselor, for the boys?”

“I think it’s a good idea, to give them an option. Sometimes, a boy would rather talk to a man.”

“I suppose.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t help you set this to rights. You want to take your inner office, or this one?”

“No running, Mr. Farrell!” Liam called from the doorway, to a student who had galloped past the office. Due to the scarcity of teachers, the students had been given a day, for study, and supervised activities. He hoped it wouldn’t turn into a circus.

“I’ll take the inner office, Babe,” he replied, turning back, to her. “It’s probably worse, than this.”

He was right. Not a file remained in Starkey’s cabinets. All had been rifled, and discarded in leaning stacks, on the floor. Not a book was left, on the shelves, either. They were everywhere; on the floor, on the visitors’ chairs, and on the credenza where Starkey’s coffee maker and ten gallon aquarium had been shoved aside, to make room for them. Liam fed the fish, from the box he found, wedged between the tank and the coffee maker.

There were no files or books on the desk. That surface was covered with the usual tools found there, plus what appeared to be the previous contents of the smaller desk drawers. The drawers, themselves had been pulled out, dumped, then piled by the desk.

Smudges of fingerprint powder were all over the place. Special attention had been paid to the desk phone, the stapler, a pencil cup, and every drawer pull, knob, and handle, in the room.

Liam hardly knew where to start. Clearing the desk, would be a simple enough job. Anything that couldn’t be obtained in an office supply store, could go into the trash. It was unlikely that Starkey would be back to claim any of it.

Most of the items did go into the trash, except for an antique key, notched and ornate, and the simpler object attached to it, with a twist of wire. The old key was surely a collector’s item, but Liam was stumped, when it came to the T-shaped object, with a slightly flared end, and a square hollow inside. It had to be a key of some kind, as well. He turned it, between his fingers, and found the startling legend: National Casket Co.

“Jan —” he called.

“What is it?” she asked, poking her head in.

“Come here, and tell me what you think this is.”

He handed her the T-shaped key, with the fancier one dangling.

“It’s a coffin key,” she replied, “an old one. My great granny had one, like it. Most of them have a hexagonal end, these days, instead of a square one.”

He hadn’t expected such a certain, and detailed, answer.

“My uncle was a funeral director,” she answered his questioning look. “I’ve seen plenty of caskets. Sometimes, keys are given to next of kin.”

“What about the other key?”

“It looks like it opens a door, from the size of it, and my first guess would be a mausoleum door, judging by the company it’s keeping. How was it overlooked by the Sheriff’s department?”

“It must not have looked important, to them. They might have been more interested, if it were a contemporary key.”

“Where are you going?” she asked, as he rose, and walked past her, to the door.

“To the cemetery, of course. You can come, with me,” he offered.

“To the cemetery. To try the keys.”

“Doesn’t it seem possible that he might have stashed something there?”

“In someone’s casket? I don’t think even Starkey was that bizarre.” She studied him, then pinched the bridge of her nose, with a pained look. “Get some gloves, from medical, and a good mask, for each of us.”

***

Janice

When her husband returned, he was armed with two N-95 masks, and two boxes of neoprene gloves — large ones, for himself, and mediums, for her.

She said little, as they walked to the cemetery. This was partly because the path to it was too narrow, in places, for them to walk side by side, and the underbrush and tree roots were treacherous. She found herself concentrating on her footing.

When they came out into the cemetery clearing, they paused.

“It’s not as awful, as I expected,” she said. “Sad, and neglected, but serene.” Liam lead her toward the enclosed family plot. The house like structure of the Eldridge crypt wasn’t as imposing, as she had pictured it to be, in her mind. It might hold six caskets — eight, tops.

“You want to watch your step, in here,” Liam told her, taking her hand. “There’s plenty of dead-fall, and probably an armadillo hole, or two.”

Janice followed him past the lesser burials, and up the steps, to the door of the mausoleum. Liam was gleeful, that the key fit. She was not surprised, at all. The thing that did surprise her, was how easily the lock turned. It seemed clear that someone had kept it in good working order.

“Mask up, Sweetie,” she forestalled his entry, and pulled on her own protective gear, such as it was.

“Thanks. Almost forgot.” He followed suit, then pushed the heavy door, inward. This took a bit of effort, and the door creaked, but it didn’t stick.

“I hate this, already,” she said, stepping inside, behind him. The air was stale and heavy, though it was cooler than the air, outside.

“Think that’s the one, we’re looking for?” Liam indicated a casket that lay on the floor, below the demolished face of the slot, where it used to be. A sledgehammer and a pile of broken marble were nearby. The box was intact, but had sustained some damage to one end. Whoever had removed it, had acted alone.

“I wonder who it used to be.” Actually, she didn’t, and couldn’t have cared less, at the moment. She was growing consumed with a desire, to get out of here.

Liam must have heard it, in her voice. “You can wait outside. I can handle opening this thing. Should be easy.”

“I think I will, if you don’t mind. Just be careful, and don’t… touch anything you don’t have to.”

She made her exit, and removed the mask. Rank vegetation, and brown water had never smelled so good. After a few minutes, during which she heard Liam’s grunting efforts to open the casket, and the subsequent rummaging, he emerged, bearing a box, which had once contained copier paper.

“I Don’t think this was buried, with the lady,” he remarked, setting it down, on the top step. “Give me a minute, to tuck her back in.” He reentered the building, and Janice heard the lid of the casket close, with a soft thump. Reemerging, a moment later, he sat down on the step, next to the box.

“You’re opening it, here?”

“I don’t want to carry it, all the way back, only to find out that it’s Starkey’s nudie mag stash.”

“You have a point,” she allowed, joining him, thinking how refreshing it was, to not have to worry about dirtying a skirt. She was wearing grey gabardine slacks, today, with a neat, pin tucked, maroon blouse.

Liam lifted the lid off the box.

“Mother of God!” Janice exclaimed. She reached in, and pulled out, from wadded paper padding, a large mug, with the picture of a young Marine, in dress blues. The mug contained pencils. Beside the mug was a porcelain box. It was narrow, and about ten inches, in length. Janice knew what was inside it, before Liam opened it. There was an assortment of pens, a few nice fountain pens, among them, and two bottles of ink; one purple, one green.

“Jess Greene’s pens. And, her journals!” she added, spotting them, in the bottom of the box.

There were other items, as well; a small photo album, a clutch of letters, held together in a large rubber band — unsent, from the student named in the return address; tiny items of jewelry, which had been easy to smuggle in; a school library copy of Animal Farm, that been exposed to water, and other things.

“I’d say these are going back, with us,” Liam said, replacing the lid, on the box.

“Should we turn them in, to the Sheriff?” Janice asked his back, as he had risen and turned to secure the door.

“Not until we give Ted the chance, to look at them. I don’t see how they could be evidence, in Gordon’s murder investigation, do you?”

“Not really. There’s probably nothing in there, that would help them to find Starkey. But these things might add more weight to why they should find him. Still, I don’t suppose it would hurt anything, to let Ted go over them, first.”

*******

Ted

Ted was waylaid several times, on the way to the Dean’s office, by students, who were happy to see him, and by a few teachers, as well. He managed to conceal his surprise, at the greetings and inquiries about his well-being, and returned them, with his usual calm but friendly energy. Yet, he suspected that some of the latter were simply kissing his ass.

He found himself encountering more and more ass kissers, each day. It made him grateful for Liam, who would never kiss his ass, and for Janice, who was loyal, almost to a fault.

Janice had sounded both panicked and excited, when she had called, shortly after noon. It was now 3 p.m. He’d cut a meeting short, and hadn’t been home, since he’d left his attorney’s offices. Janice had insisted that it was crucial that he saw something they had found, so he had driven directly to New Canaan.

He found Liam alone, in the Dean’s office, seated at the desk, upon which, was a white copier paper box.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” Ted apologized, after they exchanged greetings. “I got away, as quickly as I could.”

“No worries. Jan should be back, any time. She’s doing some copying.”

“Did she forget her paper?” Ted indicated the box.

Liam smiled, wanly. “That’s a box we found, in your ancestor’s coffin. Ancestress, I should say.” He explained finding the keys, and the subsequent visit, to the mausoleum. “I’m sorry we entered, without your permission, but…”

“You did the right thing.” Ted had been standing over the box, for a moment. Now, he lifted the lid, and stared inside. “Are these…?”

“Jan recognized some of the items. They’re Starkey’s collection, all right.”

“Did you handle them?”

“With gloves.” Liam nudged a box of medical gloves in Ted’s direction.

“Good thinking,” he said, putting on a pair, and beginning to withdraw the items, one by one, from the box, to examine each.

“We got pictures of everything, too.”

“Keep talking, Liam. You’re starting to impress me,” Ted smiled.

“We thought it couldn’t hurt anything. You’re probably going to want to turn it all over to the cops.”

“I don’t see that I have much choice.”

“There were a student’s journals in the bottom of the box. Jan’s copying them. She insisted.”

“Excellent. I’d like a set, and we’ll send one to Guy and Steph, too.”

“Along with the photos,” Liam agreed.

Janice entered, wheeling three stacks of papers, on a cart. “We need a copier that collates. Hi, Ted.”

He gave her a little wave. “How many copies did you make?”

“Three, of everything. I figured, one for us, one for you, and one for Steph and Guy.”

She looked confused, by their matching amused looks. “Should I have made more? Fewer?”

“You made exactly the right number,” Ted assured her. “You collated them, by hand?”

“That’s what took so long. I’ve been at it, since just after I called you.” She pushed the cart to the desk, and began to divide each stack into three smaller ones, on the desktop. “There were three journals,” she explained. “All of them filled, except for the last one. There are so many pages, because I couldn’t get the copier to print, double sided. I think it’s having problems.”

“Consider it, replaced,” Ted said. “Maybe I should just shut this place down, for a semester. It could use some repairs, and a face lift.”

“Can you do that?” Liam asked. “Does the school have any actual contract, with the parents?”

“I’m sure, it does,” Ted sighed. He was already sick of the word: contract.

“Never mind. We’ll work around the students,” Liam said. “It can be done.”

“Here are the originals,” Janice handed three spiral notebooks, to Ted. He thumbed through the one on top, not really reading. The penmanship wasn’t bad. The entries had alternated between two colors of ink, green and purple.

Ted placed the notebooks in the bottom of the box, and loaded the other items on top of them.

“You’re handing it over, to the police?” she asked.

“It seems like I should. Of course, that’s going to leave me, with some fancy explaining to do, about missing children.”

“Not your fault, the police weren’t informed, by the school administration,” Liam pointed out.

“Yet, I did know about it.”

“You don’t need to tell them that. Do you?”

“It’ll be okay, in the end. I’ll be as honest and transparent, as I can, without bringing Guy and Steph into it.”

“We’ve caused you a little more delay, with all the copying,” Janice said.

“What if you did? You said the keys were on the desk, in plain sight, where the deputies poured them out of a drawer.”

“Right here,” Liam confirmed, tapping the place where they had been.

“I can’t help it, then, that you’re smarter than the deputy who overlooked them, and didn’t put two and two together.”

“You want them?” Liam pulled them out of his coat pocket, and offered them to Ted.

“Hang onto them. They’ll send investigators around, to see nothing, soon enough. You’re more likely to be here, to open the door of the vault, than I am.”

“Can they confiscate the keys, as evidence?”

“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. Hand them over, if they ask. No one needs to go into the vault, anymore. I think we have what we need, from the evidence, in the box. I see I picked the right people, for this job. Those mine?” he asked, as Janice put large binder clips on three separate sheaves of paper.

“Yes. If you can wait, I’ll gather the set for Steph and Guy, too. Liam, there’s another box of paper, with two reams left in it, in the copier room. If you’ll grab that, I can put all of these papers in it, and Ted can wheel both boxes out, on the cart. Unless you think they’ll say anything, out front?” she added, to Ted.

“They don’t even want to look at me, right now, let alone say anything. They didn’t even wand me, or look for my badge, when I came in. Might be a good excuse to fire the contractor. I’d judge they’re negligent, and in breach of contract.”

“Damn, Ted. Already playing the angles, like a proper businessman,” Liam observed, on his way to the door.

“You take that back,” Ted scowled, then followed it up with a grin. “Sit down, Janice,” he said, when Liam had gone. “You look tired.”

“I am, a little. It’s kind of stuffy, in the copier room.” She sank into one of the visitor’s chairs, and Ted perched on the corner of the desk.

“I appreciate the copies, and I’ll fire off that third set to our detective friends, by courier. You called right at lunch time. Have you eaten?”

“I had an apple. We’re scheduled for tea and toast, in about an hour. Today, it’s just staff — we thought we’d use it as a mandatory but informal meeting.”

“Liam was serious about the tea time idea.”

“Do you object?”

“Not at all. The little hoodlums could use a bit of decorum, to offset some of the freedom. Besides, it strikes a cultured note.”

“You think it’s too much freedom?”

“I think you’re going to have to keep an eye on them. You’re going to have some students who abuse their new privileges. It’s inevitable. But, I agree that the reins have to be loosened. You and Liam are doing fine. Just keep me in the loop, if you have difficulties.”

“You know we will.”

“I do. It’s just that I’ve met so many people, lately, who wouldn’t. It’s as if they’re hoarding everything they know, like a hand of cards, to be played, when they can, to their advantage. I’m beginning to realize that there are about six people in the world, whom I trust.”

“Introduce the others, to Nina, if you’re in doubt,” she smiled.

“I’ve never known her to be wrong, ” Ted acknowledged. “If it weren’t for her social anxiety, I might do that.”

“Let’s load you up, Ted, and then you can join us, for our inaugural tea,” Liam proposed, reentering the room.

“I’d like to, but I should send out the other copies of the journals, and turn those things in. Rain check?”

“Of course.”

“I’d better run, now.” When he was at the door, he paused. “By the way, Janice, I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t find a vendor for class rings, and offer them to the seniors, next year. Maybe they’ll have a school they’re proud of, by then.” He left, before she could react, pushing the cart, before him.

He loaded the boxes into the car, then left the cart in the hands of a guard, who promised to return it, to the Dean’s office. Now, he had only to drop the papers at the courier’s, and deliver the boxed evidence, to the Sheriff. It felt like this day would never end.