“Kind of slimy,” Peabody commented when he’d left.
“Kind of a motive. He was lying about Craig knowing about his locker-room games.”
She wandered as she spoke and brought the layout of the locker room back into her head. Lots and lots of places for nooky, she decided, if you wanted it that way.
“Maybe he can’t talk Craig out of reporting it, or just fears he will at some point. Protects himself, his job, his lifestyle. He was out of his classroom while Craig was out of his. Opportunity. Puts him, at the moment, top of my list. Let’s take Hallywell.”
“Do you want me to bring her in here?”
“No, let’s try this one in her element.”
Bells chimed as they stepped out of the lounge. Immediately kids poured out of classrooms to swarm the corridors, to send the noise level soaring. They looked and sounded, to Eve’s mind, the way she imagined locusts did when they swarmed over…whatever locusts swarmed over.
Or like ants, Eve thought, scrambling out of their hill. Out of self-preservation, Eve would have ducked back into the lounge until the deluge passed, but one of the kids aimed straight for her.
“Lieutenant Dallas. Excuse me, please.”
Little blonde, Eve thought, sharp eyes. “Rayleen.”
“Yes, ma’am. Was Mr. Foster murdered?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I looked you up on the computer, and that’s what you do. You investigate murders. You’ve done a lot of them. My father said you would have been here yesterday because it was a suspicious death. But that can mean accident, natural causes, or self-termination, too. Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’d be right.”
“But you’re here again today, and asking questions again today, and everyone’s talking about what maybe happened.”
Rayleen pushed at her long curls, held back today with a pair of white barrettes in the shape of unicorns. “A lot of people are asking me because I was the one who found him. I don’t want to tell them what isn’t true. So was Mr. Foster murdered?”
“We’re looking into it.”
“I don’t see how he could have been because he was too nice, and because this is a very safe school. Did you know it’s considered one of the top schools not only in the city, but in the state of New York?”
“Imagine that.”
“I’m the top of my class here.” With another of those prissy smiles that made Eve want to twist the pert little nose out of joint, Rayleen tapped a finger on the gold star she wore on her lapel.
“Whoopee.” Eve started to skirt around Rayleen, but the girl danced backward.
“But if Mr. Foster was murdered, my mother’s going to be even more upset. I’m her only child, you see, and she worries about me. She didn’t want me to come to school today.”
“But you’re here.”
“We had a discussion. My parents and I. I have perfect attendance, and that’s factored into my overall rating. I didn’t want to miss class. Melodie didn’t come, though. My mother talked to hers, and Melodie had bad dreams last night. I didn’t, or I don’t remember. I liked Mr. Foster, and I wrote how much I’m going to miss him in my diary. I wish he didn’t have to die.”
“It’s rough.”
Rayleen gave a wise and soulful nod. “Maybe I could help. Maybe I’ll remember something that will help. Or I’ll hear something or see something. I’m very smart, and very observant.”
“I bet. You leave it to us.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen now.” Her violet eyes glimmered with tears. “No one tells us. I worked hard on the project for Mr. Foster, and now I don’t know if I should finish it. I have to go to class now.”
“Tough being a kid,” Peabody observed as Rayleen walked off with her head down. “Tough when you have something like this spoil the innocence you only have for a handful of years anyway. She’s never going to forget walking into that classroom and finding him.”
“Murder doesn’t leave anyone innocent. It shouldn’t. Let’s track down Hallywell. Hit Dawson, too.”