Fourteen
Faith’s first day at Howard Academy caused a minor sensation. It was not the way I’d have chosen to make a first impression.
Bearing in mind what Russell had said about a trial period, I’d been determined to keep a low profile until Faith became an accepted part of the school backdrop. Unfortunately, there’s no way to make a Standard Poodle in full show coat inconspicuous.
I parked, as usual, in the back lot. Faith, who was thrilled not to have been left behind that morning, couldn’t wait to get out of the car and explore her new surroundings. Even though she’s very obedient, I’d slipped a nylon collar over her head and fastened a six-foot leather leash to it. It was a good thing I had.
Two teachers, arriving the same time as we did, merely stared. The kids we encountered inside the school weren’t so restrained. They fell upon Faith with shouts that were equal parts glee and derision. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Even though I’d been showing Poodles for two years, I didn’t have any trouble remembering my own first impression of the continental trim.
In response to their rapid-fire questions, I related the historic origins of Faith’s clip, and explained why she was wearing so many banded topknots on her head and how the plastic wraps at the ends of her ear leathers protected the hair they held within. I also invited them to touch at will; assured them she was very friendly, and, on Faith’s behalf, refused all offers of tidbits from their backpacks.
Finally we made it to our classroom. Faith spent the first five minutes casing the place. She sniffed in the corners, explored the supplies closet, and pressed her nose against the windows. Finally, satisfied with her new abode, she chose a spot beneath my desk and lay down, resting her head on top of her paws.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “Things will get better once you stop being such a novelty.”
Faith wagged her tail and rolled over on her side, in case I wanted to take the opportunity to scratch her stomach. Considering all the attention she’d had in the last fifteen minutes, I suspected she was pretty pleased with things the way they were. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up with one very spoiled Standard Poodle.
I’d come in a little early to get Faith settled, so I had some time before my first session. Though I’d taken Ruth’s diary with me the day before, I’d never had a chance to get back to it. Now I pulled it out and began to read.
Ruth wasn’t a skilled diarist; she seemed to make entries when she felt like it and let her writing lapse for days at a time when she had other things to do. Her grammar wasn’t always perfect, and her prose tended toward teenage hyperbole, but despite all that, her story was compelling. Ruth’s words made the era in which she’d lived come alive.
Skimming on ahead and checking the dates at the tops of the pages, I saw that the diary spanned not one year, but nearly two. Ruth was sixteen when it began and seventeen when it ended, rather abruptly, leaving a sheaf of empty pages at the back of the book.
By the time Ruth began keeping the journal, she, as baby of the family, was the only one of Joshua’s children still living at home. After the hopeful beginning of the slender volume, Ruth’s subsequent entries echoed with loneliness. Her mother had died two years earlier; her father was busy tending to his fortune. Honoria, who also lived in the Howard mansion in Deer Park, was concentrating all her efforts toward making Howard Academy a success. Reading between the lines, I surmised that Ruth’s most consistent companion had been the Poodle, Poupee.
Ruth spent much of the early pages of the diary reminiscing about her younger childhood years, when her mother had been alive and the house had been filled with games and laughter. She’d particularly enjoyed playing treasure hunt, a game instigated by her mother to entertain the six siblings on rainy afternoons. Play consisted of Mabel Howard hiding valuable objects in unlikely places, then issuing subtle clues to their whereabouts. The children had competed fiercely to solve their mother’s puzzles.
Ruth did such a good job of taking me back in time that I was still immersed in her prose when the door to my classroom opened and Willie Boyd came sauntering in. Immediately, Faith leapt to her feet. Having accepted the classroom as my space, she now felt honor-bound to defend it.
“Whoa!” Willie stopped where he stood. “What is that thing? A bear?”
“No, it’s a Standard Poodle named Faith. She’s going to be coming to school with me from now on.”
Willie snorted his disbelief. “That ain’t no dog.”
His grammar earned him a hard stare.
“Sorry.” The boy grinned. He had a great smile and he knew it. “Are you sure that’s a Poodle? My aunt had a Poodle, and it didn’t look like that. That’s Fifi on steroids.”
“Poodles come in three different sizes,” I explained. “Your aunt’s was probably one of the smaller ones. Faith is the biggest size.”
“You got that right.” Willie set his books down on the table and extended a hand to Faith. She reached out and sniffed his fingers politely. “What’s she here for, anyway? Some sort of guard dog?”
“Guard dog?”
“You know, because of what happened to Krebbs.”
His response took me by surprise, and I quickly moved to correct him. “No, she’s actually here to try out for a part in the spring pageant.”
“Go on.”
“It’s true. But since we’re speaking of Krebbs, there’s something I wanted to ask you about. There’s a rumor going around that he might have been involved with drugs.”
Immediately, Willie’s smile faded. “You asking me that because I’m black?”
“No.” I held his stare. “I’m asking you that because your background is a little different than some of the other kids who go to school here. Your exposure to real life has been broader. For starters, I got the impression you knew Brad Jameson the other day.”
“Yeah,” said Willie. “I know him. At least I know who he is. Brad’s no friend of mine.”
“I should hope not. Detective Shertz says he’s trouble.”
“He’s mean. I don’t have any reason to get in his way, and I don’t.”
“Does he sell drugs?”
Willie only shrugged, and I decided not to press him on it.
“What about Krebbs?”
“He was old.” Willie’s tone was definite. As if that explained everything.
“Was he dealing on this campus?”
“Not that I knew of.” He shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “It’s not the kind of thing I would have needed to know, you understand?”
I understood. Willie was a good kid, and he had two strong, smart parents who were determined he was going to grow up to be somebody. I wished all my students were so lucky.
“Okay,” I said. “Enough questions. Take a seat and let’s get to work.”
Last period before lunch, Sally Minor dropped by to see Faith. Her face lit up at the sight of the Poodle. She dropped to her knees and called Faith to her. “Hello, gorgeous. Aren’t you a pretty girl?”
“That’s just what she needs, more spoiling.”
Sally rocked back on her heels. “Dogs are like kids. You can never give them too much attention.”
“You’ll have to meet my Aunt Peg sometime. The two of you would get along famously. I was just about to take Faith outside for a walk. Do you want to come?”
“I’d love to. Anything beats being cooped up inside all day. Let me just get a jacket.” Sally ran back to her classroom and reappeared a minute later. The hall was relatively empty, and we were able to slip out without causing a fuss.
“Listen,” Sally said when we were outside. “I want to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday at lunch.”
Taking Faith to the edge of the parking lot, I paused as she sniffed a likely spot. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do. I was pretty rude. I just didn’t feel up to talking about Krebbs.”
“There’s no reason you should have to.”
“No, but I can’t seem to get it out of my mind. I know you’ve been talking to the police. What do they think happened?”
“I’m not really sure. Right now, they’re investigating the possibility that Krebbs might have been selling drugs on campus.”
“Drugs?” Sally scowled. “That’s absurd. Why on earth would he have wanted to do something like that?”
“Probably for the same reason anyone does, to make money.”
“Krebbs didn’t need money. He was an old man who had a place to live and a guaranteed source of income for as long as he wanted it.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to work anymore,” I said, playing devil’s advocate. “You’re right, he was an old man. Maybe he wanted to retire but he couldn’t afford to—”
“No.” Sally was shaking her head vehemently. “That’s not the way it was at all.”
I looked away, pretending to be distracted by Faith’s wanderings. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am. There’s no way Krebbs would have gotten involved in anything as sordid as drug dealing. Besides, he loved this place. He’d made it his whole life. He would never have done anything to harm the school. Somebody’s trying to set him up.”
“Set him up for what?” I asked. “He’s dead.”
Angrily, Sally strode on ahead. I waited a minute, then followed, with Faith trotting obligingly alongside. “I guess you knew Krebbs better than most people,” I said when we’d caught up.
Though the sun was shining, the wind was still cool. Sally had her head down and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She didn’t look cold, though; she looked upset.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
“You’re the first person I’ve heard stick up for him. And the only one who seems to know how he felt. I guess maybe since you’ve been here longer than the rest of us . . .”
“That had nothing to do with it,” Sally said flatly. She was walking quickly now and Faith and I had to hurry to keep up. “I knew Eugene Krebbs before I ever came to Howard Academy. At least I knew who he was. Krebbs was my father’s cousin.”
Abruptly I stopped walking. Faith hit the end of the six-foot lead and turned to look at me reproachfully. The dog was leash-broken; it was the owner who needed to mind her footwork.
“You were related to Krebbs?” I asked. “I had no idea.”
Frowning, Sally circled back. “Nobody does. It’s not as if I wanted to advertise the fact that I was related to the school’s caretaker. My father came from what you might call humble beginnings, but he worked hard to ensure that his children could make something of themselves, and we did.
“I got my master’s at Columbia. I doubt that Krebbs even finished high school. I’ll never understand why anyone would be content to push a broom for a living, but apparently he was.”
“Did the fact that he was working at Howard Academy have anything to do with your getting a position here?”
“Only peripherally. It’s not as if he pulled strings or anything.” Her tone was contemptuous. “It’s not as if he had any strings to pull. And you’d better believe that once I was here I made it perfectly clear that nobody needed to know a thing about our connection.”
“Did Krebbs mind that?”
“It wasn’t up to him to mind or not mind. It was the way things were going to be. I had no desire to have the rest of the faculty snickering behind my back.”
How close to the truth was Sally’s assessment? I wondered. Howard Academy certainly had its share of snobs among the faculty and the student body alike. I could see how she might feel that having the relationship come to light might diminish her stature.
“Nevertheless,” said Sally, “this whole drug idea is nuts. Krebbs was complacent and not too bright. He was satisfied with his station; he would never have done anything to jeopardize it.”
“Have you told any of this to Detective Shertz?”
“Of course not. There wasn’t any point in it. Besides, as soon as the police realize there’s nothing to this drug theory of theirs, they’ll move on. There’s no need for me to get involved.”
As we talked, we’d started walking again, and now we’d circled the entire parking lot and come to the back door. Faith tugged on the leash, ready to go around again, but Sally reached for the handle and pulled the door open.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat what I told you,” she said, pausing on the step. “Now, more than ever, there’s no way I want my name and reputation to be linked to Krebbs.”
Before I could answer, she hurried through the door and let it shut between us.
Fifteen
By midafternoon, my classroom had begun to feel like Grand Central Station. Every teacher or student who could come up with an excuse to stop by and check out Faith, had done so. Even Ed Weinstein, whom I’d judged to be devoid of any kindness whatsoever, managed to smuggle her a small piece of steak from lunch.
“Will she bite me if I feed it to her?” he asked.
I almost laughed, but caught myself in time. I’d turned down all other offers of goodies because I didn’t want my dog to think such treatment was the norm, but Ed’s largesse was so unexpected I decided to let Faith go ahead and enjoy.
“Don’t worry, your fingers are perfectly safe,” I assured him.
He watched as she chewed daintily on the morsel. “I hate to say it but Michael was right. She does look like the dog in the painting. Is that guy Mr. Lucky, or what?”
Actually, I was the one who was feeling pretty lucky about the way things had turned out. Michael might have instigated the process, but I couldn’t see how he benefited from it. That fact hadn’t registered with Ed, however.
“You and Michael don’t get along very well, do you?”
“We get along fine, if you don’t count the fact a guy with no seniority and iffy credentials, comes waltzing in here to teach drama, of all things, and ends up pulling down almost the same salary as I’m making. Other than that, we probably don’t have much to disagree about at all.”
“I thought the remuneration packages were private.”
“That’s what they want you to think. But after you’ve been here a while, you’ll see. There’s a way to get around everything at Howard Academy. You just have to know the ropes.”
“And you do?”
“Do I ever.” Ed’s face creased in an oily grin. “Anytime you want me to clue you in, just let me know. We could work on it after hours, if you know what I mean.”
I knew all right. Obviously I’d moved too fast in crediting him with kindness, or any appealing qualities at all. I walked over and opened my door. Looking not the slightest bit offended, Ed took the hint and left.
I’d barely gone back to my desk and sat down before my next visitor arrived.
“That guy looked like a creep,” said Jane.
“He is, but don’t let it worry you. He’s a teacher, and since you don’t do things like school, it’s unlikely you’ll run into him.”
Jane pursed her lips. “If you’re going to be rude, I’ll leave.”
“That’s up to you.”
I was growing tired of this game we were playing, where she held all the cards and I had no control over the outcome. I wasn’t going to chase Jane anymore. Now it was her turn to make some concessions.
“Don’t you even care why I’m here?”
“If you want to tell me, I’m sure you will.” As I scooted my chair forward, I accidently knocked into Faith, who leapt to her feet. The Poodle had long since passed the point of needing to check out each new visitor. Now, after the long and busy day she’d had, Faith was simply hoping to catch a nap beneath my desk.
Jane’s eyes immediately lit up. “Hey, cool!” she cried. “Where did he come from?”
“Faith’s a she, not a he, and she’s mine.”
“Can I pet her?” Jane hung back a step, the first moment of shyness I’d ever seen her exhibit. It was almost as if the prospect was so enticing, she was half-afraid I’d snatch it away.
“Sure, go ahead. I think she’d like that.”
Tentatively, Jane extended her hand. Faith stood perfectly still as the girl patted her head, then her neck. Dogs prefer a firm touch, even when the intent is friendly, but seeming to sense Jane’s hesitation, Faith held her ground.
“I always wanted a dog,” she said softly.
“Me too. My mother wouldn’t let us get one when I was little.”
“Mine wouldn’t either. She said we had no place to keep it.”
I remembered what Detective Shertz had said about Jane and her mother living on the street and felt a pang. No wonder Jane kept running away. There’d been so little stability in her life, she probably had no idea how to respond to someone who was trying to help.
“My aunt has a whole bunch of dogs,” I said impulsively. “They’re all Faith’s relatives. Maybe you’d like to come with me sometime and see them?”
Jane’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a small circle. “Could I?”
“Sure, as long as it’s okay with your grandmother.”
In the space of an instant, her expression changed. The joy drained away, and resignation took its place. “Gran won’t let me. She never lets me do anything.”
“We could ask her.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jane didn’t sound hopeful.
“Detective Shertz talked to her, you know. He’s concerned about you, too. He thinks Brad isn’t the greatest person for you to be hanging around with.”
“Brad’s all right. Everybody thinks he’s bad news just because he’s been in some trouble, but most of it wasn’t his fault.”
“No?” I said skeptically. “Just like I suppose it’s not your fault you’ve been cutting school?”
Abruptly Jane stood. “I thought you understood. I thought you wanted to be my friend.”
“I
do
want to be your friend. That’s why I’m worried about you. I know you’ve gone through some tough times—”
“You don’t know anything about it!”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I’d like for you to tell me. I also think you should talk to a friend of mine about what happened on Monday. Her name is Mary Ellen and she’s the school’s counselor. She’s also a licensed therapist—”
Jane started backing toward the door. “A therapist? So now you think I’m crazy?”
“Not at all,” I said, giving myself a mental kick. I was losing her again. “But I know that you went through a terrible experience. Trust me, talking to someone about it will make you feel much better.”
“I did talk to someone. I talked to you and Brad and Detective Shertz. And all it did was land me in a big, fat mess.”
She slammed the door behind her on the way out. Faith’s ears flattened to her head at the noise. Belatedly, I realized Jane never had told me the reason for her visit. I hoped it wasn’t something important.
When the last bell finally rang, Faith and I were more than ready to make our escape. Being the center of so much attention had been tiring for both of us. Hopefully the excitement would die down soon and people would start to take her presence for granted.
I waited a few minutes until the halls were mostly empty and the congestion in the parking lot had cleared. That way I could take Faith outside unleashed and let her enjoy a few minutes of freedom before putting her in the car. I’d just thrown my stuff in the Volvo and was turning to call her when Russell Hanover came walking out the back door to the school.
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said.
Faith was in the field beside the parking lot chasing a squirrel. She treed the animal, then circled around the trunk and doubled back, checking to see if I’d noticed her accomplishment. Russell certainly had. Though he’d seen the portrait of Honoria’s Poodle, Poupee, he seemed startled by the sight of her. To his credit, he recovered quickly.
“That must be Faith,” he said. “She’s quite large, isn’t she?”
This wasn’t the way I’d pictured their first meeting taking place. Arm down, hand dangling next to my thigh, I snapped my fingers insistently. Faith caught my cue and came running. She slid to a stop beside me, tail wagging.
“She’s a little bigger than Poupee,” I admitted. Was it my fault he’d gone for the stereotype and assumed that a Poodle would be small? “Poodles come in three sizes. Faith is a Standard Poodle.”
“So I see. She seems quite obedient. You must spend a lot of time training her.”
Because of the dictates of her show coat, I probably spent more time brushing her, but I didn’t see any need to admit that. “I do. Faith is a show dog. She’s well on her way to completing her championship, and she won her first major last week.”
“Congratulations, she sounds very accomplished.” Like most people, Russell looked like he hadn’t a clue when it came to dog shows. “And did she enjoy her first day of school?”
“Very much so.” I reached down and ruffled the hair behind Faith’s ears. She leaned into the caress. “It’s really a treat for her not to have to stay home by herself.”
“Hopefully it will be a treat for us to have her here as well. So far, I’ve heard nothing but good things. As long as that continues, we’ll be delighted to have her as part of our family.”
“Great.” Apparently we’d cleared the first hurdle. “You said you were looking for me?”
Russell nodded. “I believe I mentioned we’d be holding a small memorial service for Eugene Krebbs in the chapel this weekend? It will be Saturday morning at eleven o’clock. Attendance isn’t mandatory by any means, but I’d like everyone to know that they’re welcome if they wish to come.
“Krebbs was an institution at Howard Academy for many years and as he has no other family, I think it only fitting that we organize a tribute to his long life and dedicated service. If you will let Harriet know of your plans by tomorrow afternoon, we’d like to get an idea of the numbers.”
“I’ll do that,” I said. “Have you spoken to Detective Shertz? How is the investigation coming?”
“Well enough, I suppose.” Russell looked pained. “Unfortunately, the police don’t feel any compunction to keep me informed.”
“Did they find what they were looking for in the cottage ?”
“You mean drugs? Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m told there was nearly half a pound of marijuana tucked away in a hiding place behind the tractor.”
“So Krebbs was dealing?”
“That’s one possibility. It’s equally possible that the drugs could have belonged to a member of the work crew, all of whom have access to the cottage. There’s no way of knowing whether the stash was the cause of Krebbs’s murder, or whether its presence there was entirely unrelated. The detective is of the opinion that Krebbs may have interrupted a burglary and suffered the consequences.”
“But the drugs were still there,” I said. “If that’s what the murderer was after, why did he leave them behind?”
“Maybe he couldn’t find them,” Russell speculated. “Maybe he heard someone coming and ran out of time.”
I glanced in the direction of the dilapidated building. “There’s something else the police should consider. The work crew aren’t the only ones with access to that shed. Just about anyone could stop in there during the day without someone noticing. Until Krebbs was killed there, it probably made a dandy hiding place.”
“You’re probably right.” Russell sighed. His gaze drifted upward into the trees above us. “I was a teenager in the sixties so I’m not what you would call uninformed on the subject. And yet this is something I would never have suspected. That a member of our own staff, much less a man who’s been with the school for nearly half a century, would be a party to this base sort of behavior. Is it possible that I’m that out of touch? And if so, am I truly fit to serve as headmaster of this school?”
I sincerely hoped the question was rhetorical as I had no intention of answering it. Instead, I waited a minute, then changed the subject. “Do you know if Krebbs left a will?”
“He certainly did. The police found one among his papers, and it matched a copy that was on file at a law office downtown. When it came to money, Krebbs was surprisingly organized. And rather well invested, as it turns out. According to his attorney, the estate is worth in excess of a quarter of a million dollars.”
“You’re joking!”
Russell gave me a disapproving look. I deserved it. He wasn’t the type of man to joke around, and I should have known it.
“It’s possible he saved that much through a lifetime of diligence,” Russell continued. “Unfortunately, it’s equally possible that the money is the result of ill-gotten gains. At the moment, nobody seems to know which is the case.”
He seemed pretty well informed for a man who claimed not to be getting updates from the police, I thought. As we spoke, Faith had begun to fidget at my side. Since Russell didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her, I lifted my hand and let her run back into the field.
“How did you find out about it?” I asked.
“The school was contacted yesterday. Apparently our former caretaker has left us a sizable bequest. Half his assets are to come to Howard Academy, earmarked for the refurbishment of the computer lab.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, knowing how badly the job needed to be done. The school’s computers, state-of-the-art a dozen years earlier, were now woefully out of date. Our students, many of whom carried far superior laptops in their backpacks, had been heard to refer to the school machines as prehistoric.
I knew Russell had plans to mount a fund-raising campaign with that end in mind. He should have been thrilled. Instead, he looked anything but.
“What’s the matter?”
“I should think that would be obvious. It will be damaging enough if it turns out that Krebbs was promoting the use of drugs on our campus. How much worse is it going to look if we appear to be profiting from his illegal activities? That money would be a godsend, and I’d be the first to admit how much we need it. But under the circumstances, I’m not sure there’s any way we can accept it.”
He had a point. Big time.
“You said half the estate comes to the school. What about the rest of the money? Who does that go to?”
Russell waved a hand dismissively. “Some woman who’s a distant relation. Sarah Fingerhut, I think the name was. She must be very distant because I’d never heard Krebbs speak of her. There was a catch with that bequest though. The woman has to come forward and claim the money publicly. If she doesn’t do so, she loses the inheritance and those assets come to the school as well.”
Sarah? I thought. Sally? It wasn’t impossible. Sally had refused to acknowledge Krebbs when he was alive, and he’d abided by her wishes. Now, maybe, he was having the last laugh.