The Murder Book

"Schools have no confidentiality, ma'am."

"But psychotherapists do, Detective, and many of our files contain psychotherapeutic records. I'd love to help, but-"

"What about perso

Baldassar fiddled with her glasses. "I suppose that's true, but… twenty years ago? I'm not sure we even have records going back that far."

"One way to find out, ma'am."

"What's this person's name?"

"Wilbert Lorenzo Burns."

No recognition on the freckled face. Baldassar got on the phone, asked a few questions, said, "Wait right here," and returned a few moments later with a scrap of pink paper.

"Burns, Wilburt L.," she said, handing it to Milo. "This is all we've got. Mr. Burns's notice of termination. He lasted three weeks. August third through the twenty-fourth. Was terminated for absenteeism. See for yourself."

Milo read the scrap and handed it back.

"What did Mr. Burns do?"

"There's a fugitive warrant out on him. Mostly he was a narcotics violator. Kind of alarming that when he worked here he was on probation for a drug conviction. About to face trial for selling heroin."

Baldassar frowned. "Wonderful. Well, that wouldn't happen today."

"You vet your employees carefully?"

"A pusher wouldn't get by me."

"Guess the former director wasn't that picky," said Milo. "Do you know him- Michael Larner?"

"The only one I know is my immediate predecessor. Dr. Evelyn Luria. Lovely woman. She retired and moved to Italy- she's at least eighty. I was told that she was brought in to beef up clinical services. I was brought in to organize things." She poked the harmonica. "You're not implying this Burns was dealing to the kids, here."

"Do the kids, here, have drug problems?"

"Detective, please," said Baldassar. "They're teenagers with poor self-esteem and plenty of disposable income. You don't need a Ph.D. to figure it out. But believe me, I don't allow any species of felon to pass through our gates. As far as what happened twenty years ago…"

She picked up the harmonica, put it down. "If that's all…"

"Actually," said Milo, "the investigation's not just about Willie Burns. It's about a student Burns was friendly with. A girl named Caroline Cossack."

Baldassar stared. Then she snorted- I suppose it was laughter, but she looked anything but happy. She said, "Let's go outside. I want to smoke, but I don't want to poison anyone else."

She took us through the glass-paned double doors, past ten rooms, some of which had been left open. We walked by carelessly made beds, piles of stuffed animals, movie and rock star posters, boom boxes, guitars, books stacked in little wooden desks. A few teens were stretched across beds listening to music through earphones, one boy did push-ups, a girl read a magazine- brow knitted, lips moving laboriously.

We followed Marlene Baldassar under a rear staircase, where she pushed a door marked EXIT and let us pass through to an alley behind the building. Two Dumpsters were pushed against a cinder-block wall. Nearby stood a chesty girl with her elbows to the block, hips thrust at a tall, buzz-cut boy wearing low pants that puddled around his unlaced sneakers. He looked like a scarecrow about to come apart. Moved in for a kiss but stopped as the girl said something, turned and frowned.

Baldassar said, "Hi, guys." Expressionless, the couple ambled off and disappeared around a corner.

"Somethingus interruptus," said Baldassar. "I almost feel guilty."

Power lines were strung ten feet above the wall, and I could hear them buzzing. A pigeon soared overhead. Baldassar lit up, dragged hungrily, smoked down a half inch of her cigarette.

"Is there any chance we can talk confidentially?" she said.

"I'd like to promise you that," said Milo. "But if you've got knowledge of a crime-"

"No, it's nothing like that. And I never met the Cossack girl, though I do know that she was once a resident. But in terms of her family… let's just say they're not very popular around here."

"Why's that, ma'am?"

Baldassar smoked and shook her head. "I suppose if you dug around enough, you'd find out, anyway."

"Where should I be digging?"

"What, I should do your job for you?"

"I'll take anything I can get, ma'am," said Milo.

She smiled. "County records. I'll tell you what I know, but I can't have any of it traced back to me, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm trusting you, Detective."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"And no more ma'ams please," she said. "I'm starting to feel like I'm in some old Dragnet script."

"Fair enough, Ms-"

Baldassar cut him off with a wave of her cigarette. "To make a long story exquisitely short, several years ago- seventeen or eighteen years ago, Achievement House ran into some severe financial problems due to bad investments. The board was comprised of stuffy old farts who were conservative with their personal fortunes but turned out to be a good deal more adventurous with Achievement House's endowment. Remember all that junk-bond foolishness? The board hired a money manager who traded Achievement House's blue chips for a whole slew of what ended up as worthless paper. At the time, the interest rates were enticing, and the income allowed the school to run at such a high paper profit that the board was starting to think Achievement House would pay for itself. Then everything crashed. And to make matters worse, the manager had taken out a second mortgage and bought additional bonds on margin. When everything hit the fan, Achievement House was way in the hole and facing foreclosure on the property."

"The rich old farts would've let that happen?"

"The rich old farts served on the board in order to feel noble and to get their names in the social pages during gala season. To make matters worse, there'd been a bit of unpleasantness with the director- your Mr. Larner. I know all this from Evelyn Luria. She briefed me before she left for Europe, but wouldn't give me details. But she did hint that it had been something of a sexual nature. Something that might've gotten the board members the worst type of publicity."

"So the school was in danger of closing down, and the board wouldn't go to bat."

"God, I hope this doesn't blow up, after all those years. I was looking at this job as a way to relax."

"Nothing will get traced to you, Ms. Baldassar. Now tell me why the Cossacks aren't popular."

"Because they came to the rescue- white knights- and then turned into something quite different."

"Caroline's father?"

"Caroline's father and brothers. The three of them had some kind of real estate business and they stepped in and renegotiated with the bank and got a better rate for the mortgage, then had Achievement House's deed signed over to them. For a while, they made payments, no questions asked. Then a couple of years later, they a

She dropped her cigarette, ground it out with the toe of her pump.

"Achievement House is still here," said Milo. "What happened?"

"Threats, accusations, lawyers. The board and the Cossacks finally reached an agreement, but it meant dipping into some deep pockets in order to pay the Cossacks off. From what I was told, the outrage was compounded by the fact that Caroline Cossack's stay here had been a favor to the family. She didn't qualify."

"Why not?"

"She was a psychiatric case- severe behavior problems, not learning disabilities."

"Custodial care?" I said.

"Yes, the rules were bent for her. Then, for her family to do that."

Milo said, "Do you have any records on Caroline?"