Chapter 32. Kate
For those of us kids who were intensely interested in the murder investigation, these were days of suspense and anxiety. When was something going to happen? Would they arrest Roger, or wouldn’t they? For most of the kids at Prospect, though, things were getting back to normal. The teachers were bearing down heading into the long stretch before Lincoln’s Birthday, the next day off in the school calendar. Many of them viewed the Christmas break as a serious setback to their teaching goals, and January was the time to start making up the lost ground.
Mrs. Pratt had been the only teacher cruel enough to actually assign homework over vacation, and only for her three favorite troublemakers. Personally, I had intended to do some of it, because I wanted to get caught up, but after the murder, well, I just didn’t do it. Win and Tom never even looked at it, either. Our other classes, we thought we could catch up. The teachers were easing up a bit, at least as far as the extra work, and not being as mean as they were before. But French was going to be our downfall, unless we could find a way to work twice as hard, and cover twice as much material, in a subject we hated, for a teacher we loathed.
We had finished with the Civil War in Social Studies class, at least as far as classroom work, but we had our term papers to do. We were supposed to have chosen a topic and done a brief outline before the break, and most of us had. The paper was due at the end of the first week in February.
Our term paper in English was due on the Friday before Winter Break. I was sort of prepared; I had been forced to acknowledge that my idea of submitting the same paper to each of the two teachers was not going to fly. So I had modified my proposal for the English paper slightly. It was still going to be on the same subject, but with a different thesis and different arguments. If a miracle occurred and my plan somehow worked out, I could easily adapt.
Rock was cruising along, in control and oblivious to everything but her lesson plans. We finished a three day review of diagramming and moved on to the next area of study – writing short essays in preparation for the term paper. This was stuff I actually would have enjoyed if I weren’t so glum and anxious about Miss Delisle’s death.
We made it through the day on Wednesday, and I watched just the beginning of the news, just to make sure there wasn’t anything on the murder, then my Dad gave me a ride to Kate’s house.
I had seen Kate’s parents at various times over the years, but I didn’t really know them. They were very nice, and welcomed me to their home, then Kate brought me down to a kind of family room in the finished basement, where she had a desk, with her books and notebooks laid out. I had brought some books and stuff as well, as if we were actually going to do homework. Not that talking about the murder was something we had to keep secret from her parents, but I was so used to hiding things from adults that it was just second nature.
There was a hard-backed chair at the desk, but also two comfortable chairs in front of a coffee table, and we sat in those, with our notebooks in our laps.
“Okay,” she said, “let’s start with what we know about the murder. I think there are some hard facts from the Medical Examiner and the Police that we can rely on. She was hit twice on the back of the head with a blunt object, and one of the blows fractured her skull and killed her. This happened at close to four o’clock, but definitely not later, because of the snow.”
“Right. It happened there, on that hillside, because there was a lot of blood on the ground under her head.”
“Hmm. Now, based on what the Medical Examiner said, or what the Chief said he said, there would have been a lot of blood wherever she fell, so, either she was struck right where she fell, at the bottom of that slope, or she was struck at the top of the slope and immediately fell down to the bottom.”
“I don’t think she would have willingly walked down that path with her killer.”
“I don’t think so either. And if she fell at the top of the slope and then was pushed or rolled down the hill, there would have been lots of blood at the top, on the edge of the parking lot. They didn’t say anything about a big pool of blood there.”
“So, she must have been standing at the edge of the parking lot…”
“Where she would be if she had just gotten out of a car, or was about to get into a car…”
“And the blow knocked her down the hill, which is what Slingerland said at the first press conference.”
“Well, it looks like he got one thing right.”
“Okay. So, if Roger was there at that time, it could have been him.”
Kate took off her glasses and rubbed her nose, deep in thought. She looked like she was peering intently at the floor, but she was just concentrating. When she looked up at me, she said “It’s just possible, but I don’t think so. As we said earlier, it couldn’t have been later than four o’clock, and he was just getting there at four. Everything that Jane has told you about him suggests that he was totally shocked to find she was dead, and the things he did that afternoon say the same thing. Would he sit there in his van, blowing his horn, if he had just killed her? Even if you believe he was evil enough to do it, and cool enough to control his emotions, to deliberately sit there and call attention to himself as a ruse, to make it seem like he was innocent, I think is too far-fetched to believe.”
It was my turn to sit and stare at the floor. She made perfect sense.
“I agree,” I said, “Now, based on what Jane told me and what Ben told me, it was just about four when Roger got to the school; there’s no reason to doubt that. Say, from three-fifty-five to four-o-five. So she had to have been killed before then.”
“Right. By four o’clock, she was already dead, and lying at the foot of the hill.”
“And the way the snow was falling, there’s no way he would have been able to see anything that would tell him there was anything wrong. There were no other cars there, and apparently no one at the school.”
We heard steps on the stairs, and Kate’s Mom appeared with a tray, which held two big mugs of cocoa and a plate of cookies. She set down the tray on the coffee table and asked how we were doing.
“Really well, Mom; we’re making a lot of progress.”
There was a slight roll to her eyes as Kate’s Mom cast a glance at our closed books and blank notebooks, but she didn’t say anything, just went back up the stairs.
The cocoa was great, and the cookies were amazing. They were slightly mounded circles, dusted with sugar, and they melted in the mouth like shortbread, but there was a flavor I had never tasted before.
“What is that flavor?” I asked.
“Anise. These are mantecados – Spanish Christmas cookies.”
Wow! I was going to have to do something I thought only middle-aged housewives did – ask for a recipe before I went home. Kate laughed at my reaction.
“They’re pretty good, aren’t they? Should we stop talking while you eat?”
“No, no. I can talk and eat at the same time; just ask my Mom.”
“Okay; that suits me. Now let’s go over what we know about Sally’s comings and goings.”
We went over everything; everything Miss Delisle had told Kate and Jackie that day at the Bake Shop, what Jane had told me and Win, and what Old Ben had told me on Monday. We tried to fit everything together until we had as good a picture as we could come up with of when Sally had done what and where she had done it. Then we went over it all again, hoping something would jump out at us.
“Well,” Kate said with a sigh, “It might not be something that’s going to solve the murder for us, but I keep getting stuck on the door being unlocked – the door to the teachers’ room.”
“Yeah. Ben did say he probably forgot to lock it.”
“He said that, but do you think that’s really likely? In the first place, this is Ben Flanders we’re talking about. He may be old, and he’s willing to admit that he’s sometimes forgetful, but he’s the most conscientious person working at the school; he just doesn’t make mistakes like that. At least not that I’ve ever been aware of. Furthermore, he went back to the teachers’ room specifically to check, to make sure the door was closed and locked.”
“Even though Miss Delisle had promised to do it.”
“Right; just because he’s that careful and conscientious. Sure, he took a minute to look around the room. We know that because he described the stack of papers, and the envelope on top with “Mrs. Rock” on it. But would he forget the very purpose he went there for? I don’t think so.”
“Okay. So, if we accept that the door was locked when Ben left at three-fifteen, then somebody unlocked the door after that.”
“Right, and everything else points to that, as well. Listen, Ben said that, if Sally came back while he was still there, and he just didn’t see her, she could have gotten into the school, because he left the east door unlocked, and, if he forgot to lock the teachers’ room, she could have gotten in there. But we know that she couldn’t have been there before then, because she was at the Bake Shop with me and Jackie. She went back to the school after Ben had already left. If she got into the school, which I think she did, somebody let her in, or left the door unlocked, and the same person let her into the teachers’ room.”
“That fits, because we don’t believe either Old Ben or Roger Warren killed her. There had to be someone else at the school, and it was almost certainly the killer.”
“That’s what I think. So who could it have been? Who had keys to both the outside doors and the teachers’ room?”
“Well, let’s see; all the teachers, Old Ben, the Principal and Mrs. Ayala.”
Kate stopped to sip some cocoa while she pondered, and I reluctantly offered her the last cookie. She shook her head and I gulped it down in two quick bites.
“Mr. Camp was in Mexico, on vacation,” she said, “So what do you think about Mrs. Ayala?”
“Well, I don’t think it would be unusual for her to go in on a weekend, or a vacation, but, the thing is, Ben had just waxed her floor, so she couldn’t have used her office. There’s nothing in the teachers’ room except a telephone, so what would she have been doing there? She must have known that Ben was doing her floor, so I don’t think she would have gone in.”
“So it had to be a teacher. All the regular teachers had keys, but not the student teachers or subs.”
We both thought silently about that for a little bit. We had come to the conclusion that one of our teachers was probably the one who had murdered Sally Delisle, and that was a disturbing thought.
But what next? How could we figure out who it was? There did not appear to be any witnesses who had seen someone at the school in that forty-five minute period. We hoped that the police had come to the same conclusion, but there was no guarantee of it.
“Well,” Kate said, hopefully, “they haven’t charged Roger with murder yet, so they obviously don’t have enough evidence. If there isn’t enough evidence against Roger, won’t they have to look for someone else?”
“I’m not sure that’s how they do things. If they’re convinced it was him, they’ll just keep digging until they think they have enough to charge him. They need to find the murder weapon.”
“Sure they do; it could make their case against Roger, but it could also clear him.”
“Yeah, it could. Listen, Kate, this may sound crazy, but, what if this teacher, whoever it was, let Sally into the school and the teachers’ room, but didn’t kill her?”
“Then there would have to be another person at the school that day, another person nobody else saw and we can’t identify.”
“Or Roger killed her after all.”
She bit her lip and frowned, then shook her head slightly. “That’s possible, but I think it’s very unlikely. I think we were right in the first place – it wasn’t Roger or Ben, and there had to have been another person there, probably a teacher.”
“Well, I’m sure you know who comes to mind for me.”
“Of course. But just because Mrs. Rock didn’t like Sally doesn’t mean she would kill her.”
“That’s true. But the fact is that somebody did kill her, and we think it was a teacher.”
“Right, but what about this? Whoever it was, he or she was in the room, the teachers’ room, and, if it was Mrs. Rock, wouldn’t she have taken the papers, and the envelope addressed to her? But it was still there, right up until the police let them back in, after they had searched the room for clues.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
She drank the last of her cocoa and set the mug down. She had a determined look on her face.
“It’s still early,” she said, “so let’s go through it again. I’ll start with what Sally told us at the Bake Shop.”
So we went over everything again, trying to remember exactly what was said and hoping to find a clue somewhere. While I was reciting what Jane had told me, I was thinking that Rollo had certainly been right; it took someone, not just smart, but with a logical and disciplined mind to sift through all this information.
All of a sudden, Kate held up her hand, and said, “Say that again; what Roger told her.”
“Okay. Jane said, ‘Roger said he thought she might have gotten a ride from someone, although I can’t imagine who.’ What are you thinking?”
“Well, why would he say that? I mean, it’s not an unusual thing to say, but wouldn’t he be more likely to say that if he knew somebody else was there, or had been there?”
“Yeah, maybe. But he didn’t see anybody. There were no other cars there, and he didn’t see anyone, or he would have told Jane.”
“Right. And he wouldn’t have sat there blowing his horn if he knew she wasn’t there, so he didn’t see her getting in a car, obviously. But something made him think she might have gotten a ride.”
“Hmm. Well, we’re sure somebody else was there, and they would have driven there, unless it was one of the teachers who lived nearby, but there were only a couple of those. So there was a car parked at the school sometime before Roger got there.”
“Right. And what if he saw it? If he saw a car pulling out as he pulled in, at the other end of the building, he wouldn’t have been able to see who was in the car, not with the snow falling. So he still wouldn’t have known for sure. That’s why he stayed and waited for Sally. But he might have thought she had gotten a ride with whoever pulled out.”
“Well, that sounds possible. But he didn’t say that to Jane. He didn’t say he saw a car pulling out.”
“No, but he may not have thought it was important. Neither of them had any idea at that point that she had been killed, or was even missing. They both thought she might have just gone back to Burlington. And he just made a casual remark that he thought she might have gotten a ride.”
“Yeah; and he might not have told the police for the same reason – he didn’t think it was important.”
“Exactly. If Roger could identify the car for the police, they could figure out who was there.”
Well, now we had something solid. Not a certainty, by any means, but what we thought was a strong possibility. We hashed it over again, and it made sense. Now we had to decide what to do with it.
“We’ve got to tell the police what we think. It’s possible they already know, or think, the same thing, but maybe they don’t. They’ll be able to question Roger while he’s still at the jail in Burlington.”
“What about Jane? I’d hate to tell the cops something we got from her without her knowing about it.”
“You can call her; it’s only eight o’clock.”
So I said I would try to catch Junior in the morning. I knew he started way early on his day shifts, and I could leave the house early and walk over to the Police Station before school. We went upstairs, and Kate explained that I would like to use the phone for a very important call. They let me use the phone in the living room while Kate talked to her Mom in the kitchen. I called Jane and explained what we thought. She was fine with me talking to the cops about it, and she thanked me for asking her first.
Kate’s Mom gave me a ride home. It had been a very productive evening; not only did we have an important clue to the murder, we hoped, but I had a recipe for mantecados to give my Mom, and a little jar of anise seeds, which Kate’s Mom said we might not find in the supermarket.