Shades of Simon Gray (17 page)

Fifteen minutes later Liz was driving up over the hill
into Bellehaven when she suddenly noticed thousands of crows lined up on the telephone and power lines like dark soldiers awaiting her return. She rolled down the car window and sniffed the air. The wind had shifted. The cat urine smell from the pharmaceutical plant was gone. And the crows had come back. With a vengeance.

Her heart began to pound wildly. She felt as if the birds were following her. She stepped on the gas and tore down Edgewood Avenue at twenty-five miles over the speed limit. As if she were running a gauntlet, she kept her head so low her chin almost touched the steering wheel. The birds swooped toward the car, missing the windshield by inches. Their claws scratched across the car roof, the sound of fingernails on a blackboard. Their shrill caws beat against her eardrums.

Even while she struggled to keep her sweating palms from slipping off the steering wheel as she turned onto her street, even while she tried to focus all her concentration on pulling into the driveway and making it through the front door safely, some small part of her was only now beginning to understand that the crows wanted something from her—wanted something, perhaps, from everyone in Bellehaven.

Debra Santino was digging out the last noodle from her cup of microwaved chicken soup when she noticed an unnamed document on Simon’s PC in a folder called SummerJobs. She had been in this folder before, knew it contained several drafts of Simon’s résumé and letters to
computer camps inquiring about openings. All on the up-and-up. Nothing suspicious. But she couldn’t remember if she had opened this document with the default name doc2.doc before or not, and so clicked on it.

This, too, appeared to be a draft of an incomplete letter. But there was no address, no name, only the initial
D
at the beginning. And it was obvious from the first sentence that the letter had nothing to do with Simon’s quest for a summer position. Debra scanned the letter, pausing to reread the last few lines.

The letter stopped abruptly, right in the middle of Simon’s thought. The lieutenant could almost feel his hopeless frustration, almost hear him thinking, What’s the point?

Her spoon made a loud clatter as she dropped it into the empty cup. She was just beginning to understand that Simon had made a mistake. He probably never intended to save this document. He’d been pouring out his heart, sharing his deepest feelings in a letter he’d never planned to send. She could imagine him clicking on the
X
to close the file and then accidentally clicking on
YES
instead of
NO
when asked if he wanted to save the document. So what was this letter doing in his SummerJobs folder?

After wrestling with this question for a few minutes, the lieutenant refilled her coffee mug and checked the date on which this partial letter had been written. Then she looked to see if any other documents had been created in that file on the same day. Sure enough, another letter, one written to a computer camp in Massachusetts, was dated March fifteenth, the same day as the letter to the mysterious D.

All this time, as she searched through files, using key words, words like
project, PC, hack
, and the names of Simon’s friends—a list put together after talking with his teachers and family—here was this obscure unnamed document, accidentally saved in the folder Simon happened to be in at the time he wrote it. Because he had used initials rather than names, and vague terms like
mess
and
risk
, the search-and-find mission hadn’t been successful.

Debra read the unfinished letter several times. She wondered if somehow the “mess” Simon referred to also had to do with some of the kids on her list of his friends. The D to whom the letter was addressed might refer to Devin McCafferty. The K, to Kyle Byrnes, the other D, Danny Giannetti, perhaps. So far, she had not questioned any of the students at Bellehaven High. It had been important to keep the suspicions of the school officials under wraps to avoid alarming other potential suspects into destroying evidence.

Debra leaned back in her chair, lifted her coffee mug, took a swallow of the now lukewarm liquid, and reread the last fragment of Simon’s letter. She was having second
thoughts. She was beginning to think this might be a good time to start questioning Simon’s friends, especially the three hinted at in the letter. She was just now entertaining the idea that even if Simon Gray was the brains behind the operation, he might not be in this alone.

K
YLE WAS COMING OUT OF
P
RINCIPAL
S
CHRODER’S
office as Devin came through the door. His mother, a short overweight woman in baggy slacks and a purple tunic top, was right behind him. Devin wanted to ask him what this was all about, assuming they’d been called to the office for the same reason, but Kyle brushed past her with barely a nod. Mrs. Byrnes, however, gave her a sympathetic smile and said she felt “just awful” about Simon’s accident.

“He’s such a great kid, you know?”

Devin avoided looking at Kyle, although she knew he was watching her. She nodded. “Yeah, he is. Great kid.” As she turned to go into Dr. Schroder’s office, she sneaked a glance at Kyle, who remained expressionless. She knew
him well enough to know this was his way of saying, Play it cool. Keep your guard up.

Principal Schroder sat behind her desk, sifting through manila folders. Devin noticed how every iron gray hair had been teased to within an inch of its life and sprayed into place. The woman could walk through a wind tunnel and not a hair would move. When Dr. Schroder found the file she wanted, she passed it over to a younger woman, a person Devin had never seen before. The woman, wearing khaki slacks and a pinstripe oxford blouse, had short dark hair, light freckles, and serious gray eyes that seemed to see right through Devin. She glanced at the contents of the folder, then nodded to Principal Schroder, who told Devin to take a seat. Principal Schroder smiled at her, but Devin didn’t feel the least bit reassured.

In all her years of high school, she had never been in this office, a surprisingly friendly room with hanging plants, cheerful print curtains, and dozens of fascinating little objects like the clear glass paperweight sitting on the desk. Frozen in the center of the glass were a pansy and a bee.

As she slipped into the chair in front of Dr. Schroder’s desk, Devin found she couldn’t take her eyes off that poor bee. It was scarcely a quarter inch from the flower, yet doomed never to land on it, never to drink the sweet nectar.

“This is Lieutenant Santino, Devin,” Dr. Schroder said. “She works in the county prosecutor’s office. If you don’t mind, she has a few questions she’d like to ask you.”

Devin’s heart plunged into the pit of her stomach like
a rock hitting water. She pulled her eyes from the bee and stared at the principal as if the woman had just asked her to do a swan dive from the George Washington Bridge. Devin’s legs began to twitch, a nervous habit she had. She pressed the palms of her hands on her knees, hoping it wasn’t obvious. Fine beads of sweat broke out on her upper lip and forehead. From the corner of her eye she could see Lieutenant Santino studying her.

Dr. Schroder leaned forward and folded her hands in front of her. “It’s school policy to have a parent present whenever a student is questioned by the authorities. But we haven’t been able to reach either of your parents.” She paused. And Devin realized she was waiting for an explanation.

“My dad’s on the road. He’s a truck driver. Mom’s at the hospital. Gram’s not well.”

Dr. Schroder looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She lifted a pen and began tapping the end against her other hand. The gesture made Devin even more nervous.

“The questions aren’t actually related to you, Devin. They’re about another student. You certainly aren’t in any trouble. So if you don’t have any objections, perhaps you can answer a few questions for Lieutenant Santino. But we’ll certainly understand if you decline.”

Devin tried to swallow but found she couldn’t. “No … I mean, it’s okay,” she said, keeping her focus on Dr. Schroder.

“I appreciate this, Devin,” Lieutenant Santino said, resting part of her backside on the corner of Dr.
Schroder’s desk, one foot pressed to the floor for balance, the other dangling. She glanced down at the folder, then smiled at Devin. “I see you’re an excellent student.” She waved her hand over the open file. “These are some fine schools you’ve been accepted to.”

It was all Devin could do just to nod. For all Dr. Schroder’s reassurances, Devin was afraid this interrogation was going to be about the stolen passwords and wished the woman would just get on with it.

Lieutenant Santino closed the folder and put it on the desk. “How well do you know Simon Gray?”

Devin’s legs began to twitch again. She crossed them at the ankles, pressing hard to keep them from moving. She shrugged, buying time. She decided the lieutenant probably already knew the answer to this question, knew Simon was part of their group. If Devin lied, it could make things worse. “He hangs out with us sometimes.”

“Us?”

“Me and some other friends.”

“So would you say you all have things in common?”

“Not necessarily. We’ve been hanging out since we were in middle school.”

“Simon, too?”

“No. I meant the others.”

“So when did Simon start hanging out with your group?”

There was a good chance Lieutenant Santino had already asked Kyle or maybe some of their other friends this question. Devin wondered if the police had been able to determine when Simon first began using teachers’ passwords
to get into the system. If they had, they might have already figured out that the date correlated pretty closely to when he began hanging out with her and the others. But then, there had been Walter first … so maybe … “I don’t remember,” she said. “It seems like he’s always been around, sort of on the fringe.” This last part was true, to Devin’s way of thinking. She hadn’t thought about it before, but looking back, it seemed as if Simon was never all that far away from her, waiting on the sidelines.

“Has he ever talked to you about things he’s interested in?”

Devin dug her nails into her kneecaps. “Some people think all he cares about are computers and all that techie stuff. But they’re wrong.” She met the lieutenant’s eyes head-on. The lieutenant’s eyebrows arched slightly. Devin was afraid she might have sounded too defensive. If Lieutenant Santino suspected Devin knew why she was questioning her, she might conclude that Devin was aware of Simon’s illegal computer activities. Or worse—was a part of them. Still, it seemed important to let the lieutenant know Simon was more than some computer nerd.

“He’s into a lot of stuff. Old movies. Jazz. He likes going to plays at the McCarter Theatre. We saw
Agamemnon
there last fall.” Devin remembered how Simon, who had the same English teacher, had talked his way into getting to come along, even though the trip was for seniors. “He’s got this thing about Greek tragedy.” Devin looked away. She was talking way too much.

“So Simon likes the theater?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, maybe it’s not what most kids are into, but Simon’s got his own interests. I mean, he actually
likes
Shakespeare. He tried out for a part in our school play this year. We’re doing
Macbeth
.” Devin pressed her lips together, aware, suddenly, that she was practically babbling, telling this person far more than she’d intended. Lieutenant Santino didn’t need to know Devin had landed the lead female role and then had blown it by not attending rehearsals.

“And did Simon want to play Macbeth?”

Devin tried to decide what Lieutenant Santino was looking for. Did she find that funny: a skinny, pale kid playing the role of a ruthless king? Did she think it wasn’t possible?