4 The Killing Bee (22 page)

"But you were the one who clobbered me with a flashlight."

"I just wish I'd hit you harder," said Melanie. "Hey, go to the cops if you want. They'll investigate me, and I'll get run out of town for being gay. So will Irene. If you feel good about that, go ahead."

Then Melanie turned on her heels and went back to her car.

Andrea got into the passenger seat. "We should tell the cops anyway," I said. "This is too darn complicated for me."

"You know we can't do that. We'd be ruining too many lives
—Elena's included."

She was right, of course. Andrea is almost always right. It can get downright annoying.

"So what do you suggest, O wise one?" I asked, as we watched Melanie drive off.

"Run down the time line for me again," Andrea said.

I obliged. "Meckel was found dead by Laura at about seven thirty-five. The cops say he was killed some time after seven, but that’s the best they can do."

"So he went to his office, then stepped out for a while at the same time Laura came along and dropped off her trophy."

"That sounds right, Kinsey."

"And when did B
arry hear the yelling from Meckel's office?"

"He says he hit the john sometime between seven
-fifteen and seven twenty-five."

Andrea frowned, then asked, "Meanwhile Elena was out of anybody's sight for how long?"

"I'm not totally clear on that. Neither is Susie."

"And Susie got to school before any of the other parents."

I nodded. "So she could have had time to drop off her kids in the library, then drop the trophy on Meckel's head."

"And how long was Barry supposedly in the bathroom?"

"According to Susie, maybe a minute. Now you also have to remember, Melanie could have come in early to grade papers or whatever. So it really could have been her."

"Or one of the
Robinsons. Or the gas man." Andrea sighed.

I started up the car. "We don't have time to sink
into the slough of despair. Let’s go and interrogate Elena."

"Stop at Ben and Jerry's first."

"Why?"

"We'll bring her a pint of Cherry Garcia.
That’s her favorite flavor."

It seemed a trifle unorthodox to me, bringing a pint of gourmet ice cream to somebody you're trying to nail for murder.

But I didn't object. After all, Andrea is usually right.

16

On the way from Ben and Jerry's to Elena's, we had to wait as a large flock of cars went cruising by with their headlights on. Sam Meckel's funeral procession.

The lead car was occupied by Meckel's immediate family. Through the side window I saw a shock of purple hair. Paul was looking out the window as he passed me, and we locked eyes for a moment.

Andrea and I tho
ught about heading for the cemetery ourselves, but decided the best way to pay our respects to the dead man was by finding his killer. So a few minutes later we pulled up in front of Elena's apartment building.

The tinkling of "Three Blind Mice" being played on the piano greeted Andrea and me as we headed up the stairs to Elena's apartment. I rang the doorbell.

Elena opened the door and glared at me. Then she eyed Andrea—or more precisely, the carton of ice cream Andrea was holding out. Her face turned perplexed. "What’s up?" she asked.

"Peace offering," Andrea replied, handing over the goods.

Elena stood there turning over the carton in her hand, then said, "Well, come on in the kitchen. I don't usually do Cherry Garcia in the middle of the day, but today I'll make an exception. Luce, say hi to Jacob and Andrea."

Luce looked up from her piano. "Hi," she said, then went back to her playing. Only now she switched out of "Three Blind Mice" to some complex classical piece, M
ozart maybe. She played it flawlessly. I stopped and listened for a few moments before following the women into the kitchen. Besides being smart as a whip, Luce was a veritable musical prodigy.

Elena was working on scooping the stiff, frozen ice cream into bowls while Andrea got out spoons. "
That’s quite a Vladimir Horowitz you got out there," I said.

Elena nodded. "So I
'm assuming this ice cream means I'm no longer a suspect?"

Andrea and I shifted our feet. But Elena went on, oblivious. "Have you figured out who did it?"

I waited for Andrea to say something. Meanwhile she waited for
me
to say something. I guess our detecting duo routine still needed a little work.

Elena waved her ice cream scooper for emphasis. "Come on, your secret is safe with me."

"The truth is," I finally said, "you
are
still a suspect."

She did a double take. "Then
why’d you bring me the Cherry Garcia?"

"Don't blame me, that was Andrea's idea."

"Did you lace it with truth serum?"

"I want us to still be friends," Andrea said plaintively.

"Right. Will you come visit me in jail after you frame me for murder?"

From the other room came the ethereal Mozart. "Look, Elena," I said, "we understand you cheated on the Terra Nova tests."

She slammed the scooper down on the counter. "I did
what?"

"Cheated," Andrea said, finally getting into the a
ct. "On the Terra Nova tests."             

"You got some
cojones,
coming in here and giving me this shit."

"Elena," Andrea said.

But Elena cut her off. "I did not cheat. My kids got good scores, yeah. But they got 'em fair and square. Who told you this lie?"

I didn't want to start a war between Elena and Melanie
. "Let’s just say I got it on good authority."

"Tell your good authority to go piss in a hat. I drilled those kids for the Terra Nova for five weeks straight." She picked up the scoop and began serving the ice cream again. It looked like she was trying to calm herself. "Look, I'm not proud of drilling them like that. I hate wasting the class time. But
it’s not
cheating
. All the teachers do it. Everything depends on those stupid test scores: tenure, bonuses, staying on the administration's good side. . . ." She had one bowl filled and started another. "Maybe I cheated my kids by holding them hostage to a test. But that’s the
only
cheating I did."

I continued our attack. "Why'd you give high grades on Mike Lawrence's report card?"

That threw her. She was in the middle of dropping a scoop into the third bowl, and she missed. The scoop hit the edge of the counter, then fell to the floor.

Elena ignored the mess. Her thick lips tightened. "I gave Mike straight threes." At High Rock that meant B's. The highest grade you could get was a four. "Which is exactly what he deserved."

"Elena, we know all about Meckel pressuring you," Andrea said.

"And do you know all about me refusing him?"

"No, but we'd like to hear."

Elena finally put down the ice cream scoop for good, and sat down
on a kitchen chair. Andrea, evidently feeling uncomfortable standing over her friend, sat down too. Myself, I stayed standing. I'd grab any psychological edge I could, friendship or no friendship.

"That bastard Meckel comes to me, asks for a 'favor,'" Elena said. "He tells me Scott Lawrence is a very influential
member of the school board. Anything we can do to keep him happy would be beneficial. Maybe he'd vote a few more million dollars into our budget.

"I said, Sam, what exactly do you have in mind? He says, what grade were you planning on giving Lawrence's kid? I tell him, threes. The kid's a very average student. Meckel says, would it kill you to give him fours? He says, I'll remember it in June."

She gave us a look. "June, that's when tenure decisions get made." Andrea and I both nodded.

Elena shoved a spoon into her bowl, but didn't eat. "So what the heck, I said, sure, Sam, I can give the little twerp a bunch of fours, no sweat off my back.

"But then I went home. And the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. I couldn't sleep. I don't like people trying to tell me what to do. Nobody gets away with that, not my ex-husband, my father, nobody.

"So two weeks later
—this would be last week—I go into Meckel's office. Tell him I've reconsidered, I'm giving Mike Lawrence threes after all."

Here Elena stopped. She stared down at her bowl, perhaps hoping the pattern of cherries in her ice cream would give her inspiration.

"So what did Meckel say?" Andrea asked.

"He made some not-so-veiled threats and told me to re-reconsider. So I came in the next day, told him I'd
re
and
re-reconsidered,
and the kid was still gonna get threes. Meckel starts screaming, and threatening me all over again. I tell him if I'm going to lose my job over this, then he can take the job and shove it. I'd rather be a teacher's aide in Poughkeepsie than bow down to Meckel's bullying."

"And is that wh
at you told him on Tuesday morning?" I asked.

Elena threw me a puzzled look. "I'm not positive which days I met with him, but I think it was a Wednesday and a Thursday."

"I'm talking about
this
week. The Tuesday morning when you killed Meckel," I said.

"For God's sake, how many times do I have to tell you
—"

Suddenly Elena stopped. The piano music from the other room had stopped without our noticing, and now Luce came into the room. We all looked at her. I felt guilty as hell. Here I was, trying to put her mommy away in jail.

"Mom, what’s wrong?" Luce asked.

Elena forced a smile. "Nothing, honey. We're just arguing about silly stuff. Why don't you go back to the piano?"

"What are you arguing about?" Luce had inherited her mother's deep dark eyes, and right now they were wide open and heartbreaking.

"Grown-up things. Go do that sonata again. It was beautiful."

"But Mom—"

"I said
go."

Luce went.

Then Elena turned back to us. "Alright, you want the truth?" she whispered angrily. "I'll give you the truth. Come on."

She stormed out of the kitchen. Andrea and I looked at each other, then followed her.

We ended up in her bedroom. Elena shut the door behind us. What was she up to? Was she about to confess to murder, and she didn't want her daughter to hear?

Elena reached into the top drawer of her bureau. She pulled out a tiny microcassette recorder and an even tinier microcassette. Then she inserted the tape into the machine and said, "Last week, when I went to see Meckel the first time, I recorded it. The second time, I played the tape for him."

And now she played it for us. Andrea and I listened to Sam Meckel's irate voice:

"Christ, Elena, don't be so self-righteous. Think about the greater good of the whole Saratoga school system
—"

"I'm sorry, Sam, I've made up my mind."

"Maybe you better think hard about your own future, Elena."

"Is that a threat?"

"Call it a statement. Look, what am I supposed to tell Lawrence when he comes here next Tuesday? I promised him his kid would get fours."

I put up my hand. "Stop the tape."

Elena stopped it. "So you can see I had no reason to kill the
come mierda
, I had him by the short hairs. If he tried to fire me, I'd spread the word he wanted me to cheat on a kid's grade."

But I was focused on something else. "What was that on the tape about Lawrence having a meeting with Meckel on Tuesday?"

Elena looked at me. "I hadn't noticed that," she said quietly.

I turned to Andrea. "When I talked to Lawrence, he never said anything about any meeting."

"And you know what else?" Andrea said. "It’s kind of weird Meckel showed up at seven-oh-five for a seven-thirty meeting. Every other meeting we had, he showed up a few minutes late. Maybe this time he had an earlier meeting with Lawrence."

Elena spoke up. "So you're thinking Lawrence comes to this meeting, and Meckel springs the news his kid isn't getting fours after all. So L
awrence gets all worked up…"

I continued the thought. "And there's this trophy sitti
ng conveniently on the desk..."

Andrea added, "Meckel is calling Lawrence a blackmailing scum, Lawrence is calling Meckel a lying crook . . ."

"I like it," I said. "And Ms. Helquist comes in on Wednesday and realizes that Meckel and Lawrence had a morning appointment scheduled for the day before. So she calls and asks me to come to her house, so she can tell me about it."

Andrea picked up the thread. Our dynamic duo act was back on track. "Only Lawrence figures out that Helquist knew about the appointment. So he goes to her house first, maybe just to talk to her, but she's got a gun and one thing leads to another and now she's dead too."

I turned to Elena. "Do you have a copy of this tape?"

She shook her head no. "Why, did you want to play it for Lawrence?"

"Not right now. Just don't lose the tape," I said. "Hey, how about we all sit down to some Cherry Garcia before it’s totally melted?"

So we all trooped into the kitchen and shared a convivial sugar rush, joined b
y Luce, who was relieved that the wacky grown-ups had finally stopped their quarreling. Elena and Andrea laughed giddily and made jokes, the tension of the murder accusation forgotten.

It wasn't until later, when Andrea and I were back in the car on our
way to H & R Block to grill Lawrence, that a more sinister explanation for Elena's actions surfaced in my mind.

I interrupted Andrea in the middle of chattering about how relieved she was that Elena didn't do it. "You know," I said, "if that wa
s Elena's only copy of the tape..."

"Yes?" said Andrea, and then when I kept quiet for a moment, she added, "Spit it out."

"I'm just thinking. Maybe she didn't play Meckel the tape last week, like she said. Maybe she played it for him on Tuesday morning. And they got into a fight... it was her only copy... he tried to grab it out of her hands…"

"And died in the attempt."

"Exactly."

Andrea groaned.

"Sorry to throw Elena back into the pot—"

"Just shut up and drive," Andrea said, discouraged.

I shut up and drove.

We got to H & R Block just after five o'clock. It being a Saturday, we weren't too optimistic about finding Lawrence still slaving away at people's taxes. But we got lucky. All the secretaries had gone, and so had everybody else, but Lawrence was still there, bent over some figures in his office in the back.

He didn't hear us come in. "Hey, big guy," I said, and he jumped three feet in the air.

"Don't scare me like that," he said when he came back down.

"So you're staying late, huh? Crunching numbers?"

"What do you want?"

"You take numbers pretty seriously, don't you?" I was giving him the kind of knowing sneer that the homicide detectives on
Law & Order
always give, trying to keep the bad guys off balance.

"Look, I was just on my way out
—"