Mitchell Smith (35 page)

surprising….

Maybe there’d been other children on the hillside.

Flying kites …

Ellie saw the narrow green sign for Spring Farm Road, slowed, waited for a black VW bug to pass her, then turned left. She drove by two houses—one of them, the second one, had a swimming pool in its side yard-then passed a farm on her left, thinking it might be Spring Farm when she first saw it, and was pleased to read Spring Farm painted in white above the barn door. The barn was right on the road. Spring Farm-1803.

It looked more like an estate than a farm. The barn had been painted perfect dusty brick-red, the drive to the house paved in crushed white stone. —Cows in the field, though.

The sign for St. Christopher’s was on the right, a small wooden sign painted coffee brown, the lettering of the school’s name in white block.

Brown and white … the school’s colors, probably.

The driveway was fresh blacktop, swung in a sharp half-circle left as Ellie drove in, then straightened beyond a stand of big trees, and ran across a wide, mowed lawn.

Some boys were playing something out there, running around in shorts, kicking a ball. Soccer. Coed. The school was coed. Ellie’d been thinking of it as a girl’s school-with that sort of softness, secrecies.

Beyond this wide lawn … playing field, Ellie drove through an aisle of trees with houses on each side of the driveway-looked like housing for the teachers. Nice houses … very comfortable-looking. A beat-up play-set in a side yard….

She drove through to a big turnaround (some cars and a brown-and-white van parked there) with two-story white clapboard buildings standing at the end of long walks around it-three or four of them, with big trees on their front lawns. The leaves at the treetops, shifting in a breeze, were already starting to turn dull gold along their edges.

Ellie had expected the place to look like a private school in England in the movies–cut gray stone, and cloisters-but this was very nice. The buildings looked fresh-painted; their walls under the trees were printed with moving patterns of leaf shadow, light gray-blue over perfect white.

Ellie parked beside the brown-and-white van (there was a stencil on the passengerside door, a muscular man in a loincloth carrying a child-got out of the Honda, reached back in to get her purse, then locked the car and walked up a flagstone path to the nearest building. Flowers were planted along the path … yellow and red-gold.

Marigolds, maybe.

Sally Gaither might have been tight, buying new clothes, but not when it came to her daughter. Ellie supposed tuition at this school had to be at least ten thousand a year. -Hard on the girl, maybe. The whore’s daughter at prep school … Not as hard, though, as it would be now.

An elderly woman with light blue hair and matching glasses frames was sitting at a desk in a group of desks to the left of the entrance hall.

Ellie went over and told her who she was.

“My, you are an unusual police officer, aren’t you?”

the elderly woman said, looking Ellie up and down.

“Yes,” she said, and got up out of her chair, “the doctor’s expecting you. . . .”

“Expecting who … ?” A plump young man in a priest’s black suit and white collar walked up to the desk behind Ellie, and held out his hand as she turned. He was Ellie’s age, maybe younger, and was rapidly losing very fine blond hair. What hair he still had was fine as floss.

“This is the police officer-Mrs. Klein,” the elderly woman said.

‘-Though you wouldn’t think it to look at her. She looks like one of our mothers, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does, Edna,” the young priest said. His handshake was soft and dry, as if his palm had been powdered. ‘-Frn Dr. Peschek, Officer Klein.” He turned to lead her away. “Why don’t we go into my office.

-Edna, do you think we could have some coffee?”

“Do you want your Danish, now?” The elderly woman seemed to disapprove.

“Yes-and one for Officer Klein…. Edna and Mrs. Pierce are trying to keep me from getting any fatter,” the priest said as they walked up the corridor. The floor was bare, polished hardwood. “They use subtle indicators of tone. -Do you want your Danish, now?”

“

“Everybody has a weight problem,” Ellie said.

The priest glanced at her. “-Not you, I should think.

I on the other hand, am a weight problem.”

Two girls in identical dark-brown pleated skirts and white middy blouses came down the hall toward them and said, together, “Good morning, Dr.

Peschek.”

“Good morning,” he said. “-Behave yourselves,” and they went giggling by.

“Uniforms,” Dr. Peschek said. “Not terribly attractive, but they solve the competition-in-new-clothes problem. We have scholarship students here who wouldn’t be able to keep up.” He opened a dark, paneled door, and stood back for Ellie to precede him. “I hope you like instant; it’s all the ladies make.”

Peschek’s office was a large room, bare and sunny-no rugs, no pictures on the white plaster walls. The only furniture was a big oak desk and swivel chair, two oak armchairs facing them. Two oak file cabinets fitted side by side into the near corner.

“It’s a little stark, isn’t it?” Peschek said, ‘-but it’s useful to impress parents with my priestly asceticism and dedication.-Please …

sit down. They’re more comfortable than they look.” He sat down behind his big desk. “O.K.?”

The oak armchair wasn’t more comfortable than it looked. “They are comfortable,” Ellie said.

“Now… this thing. You’ll want to talk with Sonia, of course…. And you may have some questions for me?”

The priest had light brown eyes, almost taffy-colored.

“I will need to talk to Sonia,” Ellie said. “-I guess I should thank you for breaking the news to her. That’s something I was glad not to have to do.”

“That sort of thing is one of the few dues priests pay,” Peschek said, and smiled. “Particularly Episcopal prieststhe poor Catholic guys give up more.”

“It was very bad for her … ?”

Peschek stared at her. “—Officer, we are talking about a major disaster . . . a tragedy. I’ve had to tell a child his father was dead, here. Man died of a heart attack. -And you can believe me that was nothing at all, compared to telling Sonia Gaither-who has no one else in the whole world-that her mother had been dreadfully murdered.”

Peschek bowed his head a little, apparently remembering. The sunlight from the nearest window shone through his fine, sparse hair; he looked almost bald in that fight.

“I will be very happy,” he said, “-not to witness anything that severe again. She went mad, is what happened.

Shock and grief. The child simply went mad-raced through the building screaming for her mother…. We had to call Dr. Safir. He sedated her…. My wife and I have kept Sonia at our house until this morning.

We have a baby, and I think that helping take care of Michael helped her a little.”

“What did the doctor say … ?”

“Well-he said to me what I’m going to say to you. -Take it easy with her.”

“I will … I only have a few questions.”

“I thought it might be more … relaxing, for both of you, if you spoke outdoors. We have a place we call the Sanctuary-it’s a small garden-and you could talk with her there without a hundred students looking on; most of them are in class.”

“Good,” Ellie said, “-that would be fine.”

Someone tapped on Peschek’s door, it swung open, and a sharp-nosed red-haired woman in a good beige wool dress came in carrying a tray.

“Thank you, May,” the riest said, “-just set it down here on the desk.”

He moved some papers out of her way. “-May, this is Officer Klein of the New York City police. She’s here to talk with Sonia about her mother’s death. -Why don’t you go over to Spilling’s and ask John Fusco to let Sonia leave her class? Tell Sonia that a lady, the police officer from New York, wishes to speak with her in Sanctuary-that she’ll be with her there in a few minutes.”

“Yes, Doctor,” the woman said. “-Edna put a prune Danish for you. -A cherry Danish for the lady.” She nodded to Ellie, confirming the cherry Danish was hers.

“Thank you,” Ellie said, and the woman nodded again, and left, closing the door softly behind her.

“Edna saw you, so then May had to come in and see you,” Peschek said. “I hope I wasn’t out of line, telling her why you were here-but I’ve found it’s much better to let this little community know exactly what’s going on.

It’s easier, in the long run, than trying to squelch rumors.”

“I understand … it’s no problem.”

“May I ask—do you have any idea who murdered His. Gaither?”

“No.”

“I ask … because it’s difficult to understand why anyone would do such a thing.”

“When we know why-we’ll probably know who.”

Peschek stood up and leaned over his desk to examine the tray. “Well, the cherry’s yours,” he said, came around the desk, picked up one of the plates and a coffee cup, saucer, and spoon, and started to bring them to her.

I’ll take the prune,” Ellie said.

No, no . . .”

“Yes-really. I like it.”

“Well … really?”

“Yes. I do like it. You take the cherry.”

“Well … all right. ” He turned back to the desk, exchanged Danishes, and brought hers and her coffee to her. “God bless you,” he said. “Edna feels I’ll eat less of what I don’t like. ” He went back to the desk for a creamer and sugar bowl, brought them over to her, and when she’d taken some of each, went back to his desk, sat down, and arranged his cherry Danish and coffee in front of him. “What sin,” he said,

“compares in frequency of pleasure, to gluttony……

“Pride,” Ellie said, and Peschek chewed and swallowed his first bite, nodded, and said, “I suppose so.”

“Did you ever meet Sally Gaither?” Ellie didn’t know whether to call him Father, or not. The Danish was terrible; the coffee, very good.

“Oh, yes–oh, yes. We met many times. And I was very impressed by her. She was a pretty woman-though I don’t suppose you could say she was a great beauty.

She was pretty … very small, you know. A small woman.

She was charming-very intelligent, I would say-and quite seductive, though not in the way that one might think. She didn’t act at all like a prostitute-none of that sort of thing.-And that, of course, was what was so seductive about her. You were faced with a lovely, intelligent, merry woman, a lady-who was a whore. I imagine-I did imagine-that going to bed with her, and paying, would still be to go to bed with a persona woman, not a commercial instrument.”

“Still … Father, she was a prostitute. Did the kids here know that Sonia’s mother … ?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Sonia told them-and, I think, on her mother’s advice. At least she let her friends know which is the same as letting everyone know.” He ate more of his cherry Danish, drank some coffee.

“Our kids are a little more sophisticated than most-some of them come from families whose social and sexual histories would make your hair curl. So—if anything-I believe it gave Sonia some cachet, to have a New York courtesan for a mother. And many of the kids had met Sally; she came up every third or fourth Sunday to take Sonia into town …

spent the afternoon with her, and often took some of Sonia’s friends as well.”

“Parents didn’t object?”

“To their credit–or discredit-no. I believe it to be to their credit.” He finished his cherry Danish. “How’s the prune?”

“Very good,” Ellie said, and took another bite.

“Now, that’s not true,” said Father Peschek.

“It is. -It’s really all right.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No-it’s not bad!”

“That’s not true at all. -The prunes are terrible.” He sipped his coffee.

“Tell me, did Sally pay full tuition for Sonia—or was it a scholarship thing … ?”

“Full tuition. -The school has an endowment, and about fifty of the students are here on some sort of assistance, but His. Gaither made no inquiries about it—didn’t seem troubled by the full tuition amount.”

“Which is?”

“Twelve thousand, four hundred dollars. That’s full room and board; we do have a few day students whose parents pay less. -I see you’re impressed by the sum. It isn’t peanuts, is it?”

“No-it’s a lot of money.”

“Yes, but you might keep two things in mind. first those students not on scholarship have parents very well able to pay that amount. And, second, for that money their children receive one of the finest junior and high school educations available anywhere in the’country. -And I mean anywhere in the country. Almost sixty percent of St. Christopher graduates go into the Ivy League universities, or Stanford or M.I.T.

-And those who don’t go to those schools, make do nicely at Reed, or Chicago, or Berkeley.”

“I’m sure it’s a very good school.”

“One of the best-if you’ll forgive all that salesmanship. I get carried away.”

“No—it was interesting to hear.” Ellie stood up. “I think I should go out and see her, now.”

“I’ll show you the path.” Father Peschek got up and came around his desk to open the office door. He motioned her to go through ahead of him, caught up, and walked with her down the corridor. “-Listen, I have to leave for a meeting in town before lunch-but I would very much like it if you could stay, once you’ve spoken with Sonia, and eat at the faculty table. -If you feel that Sonia wouldn’t mind. The teachers would like to meet you, I’m sure-and I know our girls would. Who knows you might recruit some future Officer Klein!” They passed blue-haired Edna at her desk, but she was busy typing, and only glanced up and nodded.

“I wish I could,” Ellie said, “-but I have to get back to the city.”

“Ah I’m sorry. It would have been nice.” He held the outer door open for her.

“Maybe I could come out another time.”

Father Peschek took Ellie gently by the elbow, and guided her down the steps and to the right, onto a flagstone walk running back along the building’s side. “Could you? -And bring a male counterpart for the boys? They’d love it. And I think a talk about real police work might be a useful antidote to that crap the children see on television.”