40b1ce81e27faee7f7dcd22da99b93e1

“Mr. Servais? Jake Servais? I hope I’m not interrupting anything, sir. My name is Chase Kingsley and I’m a detective with the Hampton Cove police department. I was hoping you might remember an incident that took place several years ago. One of your students, Jay Green, pulled a prank on another student, destroying his assignment. This young man took this prank very badly. Oh, you remember it well? Would you also remember the name of the student whose work was destroyed?” He listened for a moment, then gave Odelia a knowing look, and said, “Thank you very much, sir. You’ve been a tremendous help.” After he hung up, he said, “It was Bronson Shagreen, all right. His parents even filed a complaint with the school board, and Jay and Dylon were suspended for two weeks for the stunt.”

“I think we better have another chat with Bronson,” said Odelia, buckling up. “Sounds to me like he hasn’t been completely honest with us.”

“Poor man,” said Dooley as Chase put the car in gear. “He must have been very sad when his work was destroyed.”

“Yes, but was he so sad that he decided, many years later, to murder his tormentors?” I asked.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

When we arrived at Town Hall, we found Bronson in the same place as before: still working hard on his new art installation, as commissioned by Charlene.

“Mr. Shagreen!” Chase called out. Not too loud, of course. We didn’t want the guy to topple down from his scaffolding and break his neck.

“Oh, you’re back,” said Bronson. He didn’t look overjoyed.

“We have some more questions for you, sir,” said Chase.

“More questions?” Bronson grumbled. “It’s very hard for an artist to focus on his art when people keep popping up like this,” he said, but he still came crawling down to assist us in our inquiries.

“We just talked to your old school principal, Mr. Servais,” said Chase.

Bronson didn’t even flinch. “Yes?”

“And he told us that in your fifth year your assignment was destroyed by two of your fellow students. Jay Green and Dylon Pipe.”

Bronson nodded.“That’s right. Not one of my best memories.”

“Perhaps you should have told us when we interviewed you earlier?”

He shrugged.“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“The two men who destroyed your work were both brutally murdered, Mr. Shagreen. And you didn’t think what they did to you was relevant?”

“Okay, all right. I should have told you. But you’ll understand that I didn’t exactly want to be reminded of such a traumatic event.”

“Oh, so it was traumatic for you, was it?”

“What do you think?” the young artist said with some vehemence. “I worked hard on that assignment. Weeks of late nights. I put everything—my heart and my soul into that assignment. Only to see it completely destroyed by those two idiots.”

“Your parents filed a complaint with the school board?”

“Yeah, they did. Not that it did a lot of good. They both got off with a two-week suspension, and that was it. Oh, they apologized, of course, but I could tell from their smirks that they were proud of what they did to me. And because I lost so much time, and my heart wasn’t really in it the second time, my replacement assignment got a low score, which caused Jay to get the top grade that year, which of course is what it was all about in the first place.”

“You still seem very bitter about the whole experience,” Odelia remarked.

“Yes, of course I’m still bitter. It was a horrible thing to do.”

“So when Jay and Dylon came in first and second place for this new art installation here, the decision by the town council must have rankled?”

He grimaced.“Yes, it did. And I’m not denying that. And of course Jay being Jay, he decided to rub my face in it, just for old time’s sake. Sent me a message after the decision was announced, wishing me all the best, and adding that he hoped I wasn’t a sore loser.”

“I think we better continue this conversation at the station,” said Chase.

Bronson gulped a little.“You’re not… arresting me, are you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But I told you I was Skyping with my mom when Jay and Dylon were killed.”

“I talked to your mom, Bronson,” said Chase, not unkindly, I thought, since he probably understood the poor kid’s motive for killing his two former fellow students. “And she was honest with me. She told me she hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Said you were probably too busy with your art, as usual.”

“But…”

“Did you really think we wouldn’t check your alibi, Bronson?”

“Or did you think your mom would lie for you?” asked Odelia.

“No, but…” The kid was sweating profusely again, clearly deeply impressed by his impending arrest. “Look, I do have an alibi, but I promised not to tell anyone.”

“Of course you did,” said Chase, clearly not believing a word Bronson was saying. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, and took out a pair of shiny handcuffs.

I think Bronson panicked a little, for he suddenly called out,“Madam Mayor! Madam Mayor!”

Madam Mayor, who’d been talking to a council member, approached us, looking distinctly unhappy when she caught sight of Chase’s handcuffs. “What’s going on?” she asked.