Authors: Norah McClintock
“Can mall cops make arrests?” Morgan said.
“In the mall they can,” I said, still in a daze. I watched the first guard speak into his walkie-talkie again. Elliot crouched down beside Mr. Schuster. He put his arm around Isobel. Their backs were to us. A moment later, yet another security guard arrived. Two of the guards started talking to people. They were probably trying to piece together who had seen what. The third one kept a firm grip on Nick.
One of the guards came over to where Morgan and I were standing.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said. Morgan winced at the word ladies. “Did you see what happened on the escalator?”
Morgan glanced at me. Her face twisted with indecision. I decided to put her out of her agony.
“Yes, we did,” I said.
“Then I'm going to ask you to stay here. The police are on their way, and they're going to want to talk to everyone who witnessed the incident.”
I nodded and glanced over to where Nick was standing. He was staring at me. He did not look happy to see me.
The police arrived five minutes later. So did the paramedics. The police spoke to Elliot while the paramedics attended to Mr. Schuster. When they lifted Mr. Schuster onto a gurney and started to wheel him away, Elliot and Isobel went with them. Police officers began to interview the people the security guards had asked to stay.
“It looked to me like Nick pushed the old man,” Morgan said when a uniformed officer finally got to us. Her cheeks flushed as soon as she realized what she had said.
“You know the accused?” the officer said.
“Sort of,” Morgan said. “I've seen him around.”
The police officer looked at me. “What about you? Did you see what happened?”
I nodded. “HeâNickâwas on the escalator behind Mr. Schusterâ”
The police officer's eyes narrowed. “You know the victim?”
“I walk his dog for him,” I said.
He nodded, but I bet he was thinking it was quite a coincidence that Morgan and I had witnessed the incident. “Go on,” he said.
“Well . . .” I hesitated. My father once told me that police officers are naturally suspicious. A good officer questions everything. This one was looking at me as if I were an unreliable witness, as if it had crossed his mind that I might be biased in some way. “It did look like Nick pushed Mr. Schuster. But I could be wrong.”
“Why do you say that?”
I wanted to say, “Because Nick likes Mr. Schuster and would never hurt him.” But I couldn't tell the police officer that without admitting how well I knew Nick. What if Elliot found out? Instead, I said, “It all happened so fast.”
“Can you describe exactly what you saw?” he said.
I said that Nick had been at the top of the escalator behind Mr. Schuster and Isobel; that I had seen him raise both hands in front of him; that it looked like he had made contact with Mr. Schuster; and that right after that, Mr. Schuster had fallen.
“So you're saying that the accused pushed the victim?” the police officer said.
“It sort of looked like it,” I said.
“Sort of? You either saw him push that man or you didn't.”
“I guess I saw him,” I admitted.
After double-checking our names, addresses, and phone numbers, he said we could go.
“I know I saw it,” Morgan said as we headed for the mall exit. “But I still don't believe it.”
That was the thingâneither did I.
CHAPTER
TEN
W
e got back to school nearly an hour after lunch period had ended. Mr. Dormer, one of the vice principals, stopped me and Morgan and asked us to account for our absence. Morgan didn't have to use her dentist appointment excuse. Instead, she told the truth: we had gone to the mall, had witnessed an assault, and were detained because the police wanted us to make a statement. She even gave him the badge number of the police officer we had been talking to.
I had history and French that afternoon. I must even have listened because I scribbled a couple of pages of notes. But I don't remember my teachers saying what I wrote down. My mind kept playing back what I had seen at the mall. Had I been wrong about Nick going to meet Elliot? Had he really gone there to see Mr. Schuster? But why would he risk detention by breaking bail? More importantly, why would he push Mr. Schuster down the escalator? Nick had been in fights before. I knew that. But he would never attack a helpless old man. He just wouldn't. I felt sure of thatâeven though I had witnessed the whole incident. There had to be some other explanation.
As soon as school was over, I hurried to Mr. Schuster's house. No one answered when I rang the bell. Poor Orion. He would have to stay shut up in the basement this afternoon. I was turning to go when Connor slouched up the front walk, shivering in a light canvas jacket, his gloveless hands jammed into the pockets.
“My parents are at the hospital with my grandpa,” he said. “That guy Nickâhe pushed Grandpa down an escalator.”
“Is your grandfather okay?” I said.
“I don't know,” he said. “My parents were waiting to talk to the doctor. My dad sent me back to let you in so you could walk the dog.” His hands shook as he unlocked the front door.
“You must be cold,” I said, trying to be pleasant.
“My mom got one of the neighbors to drive us to the hospital,” he said. “I wasn't expecting to have to come home on the bus.” He pushed the door open and I followed him inside. Orion's barking filled the house. “I hope Grandpa doesn't have to stay there for long,” he said. “Before he came home last time, that dog never shut up. He barked all night. I couldn't sleep.”
“I'm sure Orion will be better after he's had a walk,” I said. I headed for the basement door. Connor immediately retreated to the living room, closing the French doors behind him. When I came back up with Orion, Connor was at the farthest end of the couch, watching the dog's every move. I felt sorry for him, but I felt sorrier for Orion. After Nick and Mr. Schuster had trained Orion at the animal shelter last summer, he had gotten used to a new, happy life with Mr. Schuster. For him to be locked in a dark basement all day must have been as bad as being in prison.
I took Orion for a long walk and ran willingly after him as he chased squirrel after squirrel. I noted with satisfaction that he walked much slower beside me on the way home than he had on the way to the park. He would sleep well.
I'd been hoping that the Schusters would be home when I got back to the house so that I could find out how Mr. Schuster was doing. But there was just Connor, still parked in front of the TV, watching cartoons. He watched as I led a reluctant Orion back down to the basement. Before I left, I asked him which hospital Mr. Schuster was in.
My father wasn't home when I got there, but he called shortly after I arrived to tell me he wouldn't be home for supper.
“There's plenty of food in the fridge,” he said. “Or you can go downstairs and get Fred to feed you. I should be back around nine or ten.”
He didn't tell me why he was going to be late, and I didn't ask. Whenever my father doesn't volunteer that information, it usually means he's on a job. When he's on a job, it's always confidential.
Morgan called a few minutes later.
“So?” she said. “Did you find out anything?”
“Like what?” I said.
“Like what Nick was doing at the mall in the first place? Like why he pushed Mr. Schuster?”
“How am I supposed to find that out? They arrested Nick. If he isn't still in detention, for sure his aunt has him under lock and key.” The day's events flashed before my eyes again. “I still can't believe . . .”
“But we saw it, Robyn. We both did.”
We had both seen Nick behind Mr. Schuster. We had both seen him thrust his hands out. We had both seen Mr. Schuster fall. But it didn't make any senseânot to me, anyway.
Then something hit meâI hadn't heard the phone at Mr. Schuster's house ring that afternoon.
I should have worked on my project. As it was, it would be a miracle if it got finished before spring break. But I couldn't concentrate. When my dad got home, he found me staring up at the moon through the skylight above the dining table. He sank down onto a chair opposite me. He looked exhausted.
“Tough day?” I said.
“And then some. How about you?”
“My day kind of sucked too,” I said. I told him what had happened at the mall.
“You keep saying it
looked
like Nick pushed Schuster,” he said when I had finished.
I had said the same thing to the cop who had interviewed Morgan and me.
“Are you hesitating because you're not sure about what you saw or because you don't want to believe it?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “Morgan is sure she saw Nick push him. She doesn't understand why he did it, but she's positive that's what happened.”
“But you're not?”
He peered at me, waiting for an answer.
“I guess not,” I said. “I wish I could see it again. I wish I could see it in slow motion. What do you think is going to happen, Dad? Will they keep him locked up, or will they let him go back to his aunt's place?”
“He broke bail, Robbie. And he's facing another charge. It will take some convincing to get him released.”
“Is there any way I can see him?”
“Even if it were possible, I don't think it would be a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“The charges against him are serious. You were a witness to what happened today. You gave a statement to the police. That means you're involved. If this ends up in court, you could be called as a witness.”
“I'm worried about him, Dad.”
My father sighed as he got to his feet. “It's late, and it's been a long day. I need to get some sleep.” He started for his room, then paused and turned back to me. “What exactly were you doing at the mall, Robbie?”
I hadn't told the police that I'd overheard Nick make plans to meet someone there because I didn't want to be the one who made it worse for him. I didn't tell my dad for the same reason.
“Morgan had a dentist appointment,” I said. “I went with her.”
“It was just a coincidence that you happened to witness what you did?”
I nodded. I don't know whether my dad believed me or not, but he didn't ask any more questions.
I stayed up for longer than I should have. I thought about the phone that hadn't rung. That had to mean that someone in Mr. Schuster's house had called Nick and not the other way around. Had it been Elliot? If that were true, why had Nick run to catch up with Mr. Schuster and Isobel?
I knocked on the door to my father's bedroom. He groaned but sat up and turned on the light.
“Having trouble sleeping?” he said, his eyes bleary, his hair sticking out all over his head.
“I need a favor.”
He listened in silence to my request. To my surprise, he didn't argue with me. He didn't quiz me. In fact, he didn't give me any grief at all. Instead, he said, “I'll see what I can do.”