Hangman's Curse (7 page)

“He was rich,” said Sondra. “His family owned half the town back then.”

“And he had a pet hawk that would sit on his shoulder,” said Karine, “and he could sic it on other kids who tried to pick on him.”

“They say he still has that hawk on his shoulder—well, the
ghost
does.”

“Lawrence never had a pet hawk that I know of, but he did raise chickens,” said Mrs. Aimsley.

Karine was talking faster and faster, the more excited she got. “He had a crush on a girl, but she fell for Abel's worst enemy, a jock, you know, the captain of the football team. Abel Frye was an underclassman, a little shrimpy guy, and all the jocks and upperclassmen picked on him—you know how it is. Anyway, all that and then losing the girl finally drove him over the edge. He lured the girl into the back stairway and stabbed her to death, and then he hanged himself from the old stairway railing.”

“The popular belief is that Lawrence's girlfriend was Mabel Johnson.” Mrs. Aimsley pointed her out in the yearbook. “But she wasn't murdered; she died of influenza. Lawrence may have done away with himself out of grief, but . . .” She reflected a moment. “I think he had other problems in his life. He was homely, gaunt, from a very poor family. I can just imagine what kind of treatment he got from the other kids who had better clothes, shoes to wear, better abilities.” She sighed and placed her hand mournfully on the page with Lawrence Matthews' picture. “I've seen many Lawrences come through this school, Mrs. Springfield, and sometimes I've wondered how they ever survived when all the other kids worked so hard to convince them they couldn't—or even
shouldn't
.”

“He lured the girl into the back stairway and stabbed her to death, and then he hanged himself from the old stairway railing.”

In Officer Carrillo's office, Mr. Maxwell wasn't “alerting” as if finding any drugs, but he was certainly interested in
something
as he sniffed and sniffed at the contents of Doug Anderson's locker, now spread out on the floor. Nate and Carrillo were sitting at two sides of Carrillo's desk, watching and curious.

“What is it, Max?” Nate asked, knowing he wouldn't get a spoken answer.

Carrillo cracked, “Anderson's dirty socks, I'll bet. I think that's all you're going to find, the same kind of stuff we took from Tod Kramer's locker: textbooks, dirty socks, gym shoes, athletic gear, a few pin-up posters.”

Nate wasn't so sure. “Well, if I know Max, I'd say he's on to something.”

“But if it isn't drugs, what is it?”

“Beats me. Okay, Max, that'll do for now. Go lie down.”

Max obeyed, flopping down in a corner of the room.

Wearing surgical gloves to prevent contamination of evidence, Nate reached down and pulled a muddy jersey from Doug Anderson's duffel bag. He examined it front and back. He set it aside. Then he pulled out Anderson's football shoes, looked inside them with a small penlight, examined the outside of each shoe, and put them aside. He checked the pants, the socks, a sweatshirt, and a tee shirt. Under all the clothing he found a tattered binder containing diagrams of football plays, some phone numbers of friends male and female, and some notes from a history class.

“I've got a question,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Did every member of the team have a duffel bag like this?”

“Sure. Standard issue.”

Nate furrowed his brow. “We found Tod Kramer's and Doug Anderson's. Where's Jim Boltz's?”

Carrillo shrugged. “Hasn't turned up. We checked his home and his car, but zip. All he had in his locker were those textbooks over there and a windbreaker.”

Nate shone his penlight into the duffel bag. It was empty— except for . . . “Hmm. Now what have we here?”

“Where's Jamie?” Sondra asked, looking around. “She heard the ghost talking. I'm
serious!
”

Karine spotted her—“Jamie!”—and told Elisha, “Wait'll you hear what happened to her and Cindy Jenkins and Andy Bolland!”

Jamie was a tall girl, plainly dressed, who wore no makeup. Elisha had already seen her perform in drama class—she was good. She hurried over and took a chair next to Elisha.

“You met Elisha?” Sondra asked.

They introduced themselves.

“Tell her about that night in the Forbidden Hallway,” said Karine, actually giddy about it.

Jamie gave Karine a kind but correcting look and then turned to Elisha. “You know which hall we're talking about?”

Elisha had heard a fresh report from Sondra and Karine—and had already learned of it at a family briefing the night before. “That rear hallway next to the gym.”

“Some friends and I heard something in that hall. We were here one night for a rehearsal—”

SLAM!
Every head in the lunchroom turned. Some big guy had just knocked Ian Snyder's books off the table, and now he was standing there smirking about it.

“Ohhh,” said Karine, “don't pick on
him
. Anybody but
him!
”

“What have you got?” Carrillo asked, stepping closer.

Nate prepared a plastic bag to receive the evidence, then pulled the duffel bag wide open and reached in with a pair of tweezers. “A soda straw.”

Carrillo made a face. “A what?”

Elijah saw the big guy slap Ian Snyder across the head, then do it again. He knew right away what was happening. “Who is that guy?”

“Leonard Baynes,” said Trevor, hardly looking up. “He's always giving Snyder a hard time.”

Elijah rose from his chair.

Carl grabbed his arm. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Elijah thought that was a silly question. “Somebody's getting hurt over there.”

He walked down the row toward the trouble, and yes, there were plenty of eyes watching.

“Hey,” said Sondra, “isn't that your brother?”

Elisha saw Elijah's gait and the look in his eye. “Ohhh, that's him, all right.” She knew what was coming and could only hope it wouldn't mess everything up.

“This could get ugly,” said Karine.

4
lies and terror

L
eonard Baynes was
taunting Snyder, cursing him, .slapping him. “Where's my ten dollars, freak? C'mon! Where's my ten dollars?”

Snyder said nothing and sat there taking it, angry but apparently helpless.

“Nice earring,” said Baynes, reaching for it.

Elijah got right in the way. “Hi!” He stuck out his hand. “Elijah Springfield. This is my first day.”

Baynes was twice as big as Elijah and he wasn't at all pleased with Elijah's timing. “Butt out.”

Baynes grabbed Elijah by the shoulder—“I said, butt out!”—and flung him into a row of students at the next table, spilling their food and knocking two of them over.

Elijah extended his hand toward Ian Snyder. “Elijah Springfield. And you are . . . ?”

Snyder was too startled to answer, much less shake hands.

Baynes grabbed Elijah by the shoulder— “I said, butt out!”— and flung him into a row of students at the next table, spilling their food and knocking two of them over.

Some cheers went up from the crowd. Some in the crowd whispered, looking scared. No one got up.

“Oh, brother,” said Carrillo. “Sounds like trouble in the lunchroom.”

Nate only said, “Mmm” and continued examining the soda straw under a strong desk lamp. He held a magnifying glass in front of his eye and slowly moved along the length of the straw. He looked down one end and then down the other.

“What have you got?” Carrillo asked again.

The soda straw was common, typical, the same kind of straw one would find in any fast-food restaurant, in any grocery store.

And yet Nate was fascinated.

“Oh, maybe something,” he said.

“Where's a teacher?” Elisha cried, looking all around. “Where's Officer Carrillo?”

“You mean
Barney Fife?”
Karine giggled.

Elisha moaned, shook her head, and rose to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Karine squealed.

“I'm doing something about it,” she answered, and started down the row
. This is not a convenient time to be wearing a skirt!
she thought.

Well,
Elijah thought as he picked himself up,
at least he isn't picking on Snyder.
“Hey, come on now, I just want to be friends—”

Baynes tried to plant his big hand in Elijah's chest to shove him again—and immediately found himself slammed facedown on the table—right in front of Ian Snyder—his arm twisted in a hold that threatened to snap his elbow backward. It hurt.

“Please don't move,” Elijah spoke into his ear. “If you move, your arm will break.”

Baynes didn't move.

Now there were loud cheers and hoots from the crowd, enough to bring in a whole army of teachers, maybe even the vice principal.

Carrillo heard the commotion and had to tear himself away. “Gotta check this out.”

“Mmm,” said Nate.

Carrillo bolted from the room.

Nate shone a light up one end of the straw and looked down the other. What was this inside the straw? It looked like sugar crystals. It couldn't be cocaine or methamphetamine, or Max would have smelled it. The straw did have a strange, musty smell. Sarah would have to see this.

Elisha got there in time to hear Elijah's final words to Baynes: “We could start being friends right now or we can both get suspended. What'll it be?”

“Friends!” Elisha urged in a whisper, her body poised for the worst. “Just say it.”

Baynes thought for only a moment. “Friends.”

Elijah let him go, and he bolted from the scene red-faced and humiliated, brushing by Elisha and escaping through an outside exit door.

Elisha's whole body relaxed as a sigh of relief escaped her lungs.

Officer Carrillo burst into the room looking for the trouble, whatever it was. All he saw were the two Springfield kids kneeling and bending, picking some scattered books and papers up off the floor, handing them to Ian Snyder.

“All right,” he said, leaping upon the scene, “what's going on here?”

“We had a little collision,” said Elijah. “Everybody's okay.”

Carrillo looked at the kids' faces around the room. Most were expressing agreement, eyebrows cocked as if to say, “Yep, that's what it was,” but some were smiling and snickering with a secret amusement, enough to make him suspicious.

“Well, okay,” he said. “Clean it all up. And you watch yourself, Snyder!” He looked around the room. “And the rest of you get back to your lunch! You've only got five minutes!”

He began circling the room like a cop on a beat, in charge, eyes mean and wary.

Elijah handed the last of the scattered papers to Elisha, who then handed them to Ian Snyder. It gave Elisha a chance to see what Elijah had found: bizarre drawings of demons and occult symbols, poetry about blood and rituals, pages on witchcraft and spells downloaded from the Internet. Neither showed any reaction, but both saw it all.

“Anyway,” Elijah said, extending his hand once again to Ian Snyder, “the name's Elijah.”

Ian Snyder finished stashing everything back in his notebook, then shook Elijah's hand, the strange, animal look never leaving his eyes. “Ian Snyder—and thank you, but I fight my own battles.”

Elijah shrugged. “Well, sorry, but I was raised to be there when a fellow human being needs help.”

For the first time, the hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Snyder's mouth. “Leonard Baynes will be dealt with. Don't worry about that.”

The bell rang and the great and instant exodus began. Elijah felt several friendly slaps on the back from students he didn't yet know. Snyder grabbed up his books and turned to leave. “But thanks anyway,” he said over his shoulder.

Snyder was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and something on his shoulder caught Elijah's eye. Snyder had a tattoo.

A tattoo of an angel.

In a quiet, neutral location—an RV park on the edge of town— the Springfields reviewed the day over dinner in the Holy Roller, a forty-foot motor home that served as home, office, and mobile crime lab.

Sarah examined the soda straw through the plastic bag, then opened the plastic bag and sniffed it for any odor. “You're right. There's a strange smell, kind of musty.”

“Like an old basement or something,” Nate commented.

“Yes, exactly.” She sealed the bag again and set it aside. “The fact that the straw was buried under an athlete's laundry won't make the odor any easier to isolate.”

Nate looked across the table at Elijah. “But we may have isolated the ‘angel,' am I right?”

Since Elijah's mouth was full, Elisha spoke. “Ian Snyder has a reputation as a witch, and according to what we found in his books and papers today, hoo boy, he's into a
lot
of weird stuff.”

Nate nodded. “He has a reputation around that school. Mr. Gessner and Officer Carrillo brought up his name yesterday.”

“But here's the connection: The girls I talked to think he controls the ghost. Somehow he can get the ghost of Abel Frye to do his bidding.”

Sarah recalled Jim Boltz's eerie cry, “The angel and Abel Frye.”

“Sure. Exactly.”

Elijah swallowed and spoke up. “He told me that Leonard Baynes—that's the bully we tangled with—‘would be dealt with,' whatever that means.”

“It means we'd better keep an eye on Leonard Baynes,” said Nate. “But looking back on all this, we need to know if Snyder had anything against the first three victims.”

“He did,” said Elisha. “Sondra and Karine told me that all three of them used to pick on Snyder just as Baynes did today, and now . . .”

“Hold on,” said Sarah. “This sounds like it's common knowledge among the student body.”