“Get your stuff,” Andy murmured.
Ponce did so.
They left. . . .
7
“Now then, Mr. Proffer,” Surcher said to the Principal as Ponce was leaving, "This is what we have to do—”
“I’m at your service, Captain,” Proffer offered.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Surcher told him, surveying him, “because I’m going to need your fullest cooperation—”
“You’ll get that. Captain, no doubt of it—” answered the Principal, unhesitatingly.
“I want to find this character without putting your school out of action—” Surcher informed him.
“That’s very decent of you, Captain—”
-“Because I know how important Education is, I have a couple of boys, and a girl, of my own—”
“That so? Where do they go?”
“G.A.R. High School—”
“Oh, that’s a fine school—”
“I think so. And I think yours is too—”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“If I lived near here, I’d be sending them here, no doubt about that—”
“Where do you live, Captain?”
“Kitston.”
“Oh. well, you’re in the right school there—”
“Yes—”
“I guess you know Frank Foley—G.A.R. Principal?”
“Fine fellow. Know him quite well—"
“One of the best, let me tell you. We’re great pals. We went through college together—” Proffer chuckled, “He’s a lot brighter than me though—got his Ph.D., you know—” “Yes, I know it—”
“My own girls wanted to go to G.A.R.! I have three, Captain. Wouldn’t that have been something?”
“Ha Ha. Something.”
The phone was ringing and ringing.
“Do you mind if I answer it?” Proffer said.
“Go right ahead.”
“I’ll get rid of them.”
He picked up the phone. At once the voice at the other end was saying, “This is Keith Astle, Times-Record—can you tell me what happened? I understand something’s happened—”
Proffer was rattled.
“Hang on a minute,” he said to the journalist, clamping his palm over the mouthpiece, turning to the Captain, “I’ll be goddamned—pardon me—it’s the newspapers!”
Surcher w-as unruffled.
“What’s he know?” He asked Proffer.
“I don’t know. Not much, I don’t think. Doesn’t sound like it—”
Surcher nodded, slightly. “Tell him to go home,” he said quietly.
Proffer stood there. Surcher crossed over and took the phone from him. “I’ll do it,” he murmured. “What can I do for you?” he said, into the phone. He let the journalist repeat himself. “No, nothing’s happened. Don’t worry, if anything happens, we’ll call you. Don’t we always?” He paused. “Goodbye,” he added, and hung up.
“I don’t want those people around for a while, if I can help it,” he said to Proffer, with the hint of a grin, almost, “A pain you know where they are,” he added, lighting a cigarette, “Look, let’s sit down and talk in your office,
o.k.?”
“Fine, o.k.,” Proffer said.
“Want me in there?” Poldaski said, out of nowhere.
The Captain looked quietly in his direction. He said, finally, “Would be a good idea, I think, if you went out and took care of that traffic, Chief. Going to build up soon into a jam and a half. Know that?” And that’s all.
Poldaski answered, sulkily, no doubt of it, “Yeh, O.K.” and clumped out of there. Proffer thought he spotted a grin on the Captain’s face. He was somewhat hurt by that, for he was fond of John—many years ago he had been one of Sawyersville’s greatest fullbacks. He followed Surcher into his private office. He went to his desk and sat down in his own chair, where he felt at home again, finally, more in touch with himself and all sorts of things again.
“Sit down. Captain,” he said to the man.
“I like this office,” Surcher said, making himself comfortable, “Well, what we want to do, Mr. Proffer, now, is talk to everybody in the school. Teachers, janitor, students —everybody in the school.” He paused as Proffer nodded. What a project! Could he really do it without disrupting everything? How long were those Troopers going to be stationed outside the classroom doors, for instance? “My assistants and I will do this in a way that shouldn’t upset your schedule too much. It may take over a week to get through everybody. It looks to me like an inside job, and I imagine it does to you also—am I right, Mr. Proffer?”
“I’d say so,” Proffer said, not knowing what else to.
“We’ll work on that theory until proved otherwise, though we keep an open mind all the time, of course,” the Captain went on, “Because it fits,” he paused again, “That’s how things are in the world of crime. In fact, the world, period. Right, Mr. Proffer?”
Proffer nodded. And kept silent.
“It’s all a puzzle, and all you have to do is find the pieces,” he paused, grinning in that slight, almost oblique way of his, “And that’s where all the fun is, if you can call it that, and what drives us around the bend—” He paused, still grinning, “I’ll bet though you agree with that one hundred percent, Mr. Proffer! I’ll bet you could write a book or two!”
Proffer gave a mild laugh, and said, “Brother, could I.”
“So that’s what we’ll do,” Surcher went on, “Nice, easy. There’s plenty of time, I think, though naturally the sooner we can get the guy the better. And I’m pretty sure it is a guy —we’ll agree there, won’t we?”
Proffer said, “It sounds logical—”
“Right. Logical,” the Captain said, putting out his cigarette. “So that eliminates about fifty percent of the school population already—see how things are beginning to narrow down already? That’s how it works, Mr. Proffer—”
“Ha Ha,” offered Proffer, impressed.
The Captain pulled out his notepad and opened it.
“Now this kid Ponce de Leon—he didn’t do it—”
“Ponce?” the Principal exclaimed, shocked, “My God— he’d never do it!”
“Uh uh—don’t say that, Mr. Proffer—” Surcher said, again with that grin, “You never want to say that about anybody in this entire world, Mr. Proffer, including the Pope himself, Mr. Proffer, Ha Ha, and that’s logicaL You’re not Catholic, are you?”
“No I’m not,” Proffer smiled. He appreciated that remark about the Pope.
“I’m not either,” Surcher told him, “Well, anyhow, my feeling is, until proved otherwise, that boy is in the clear.” Again, Surcher was giving that grin, “And funny enough, though everything is logical, and part of that puzzle, it’s feeling that counts most of all in this business, Mr. Proffer, and takes you, if you ever do get there, to the culprit—” He paused, looking right at Proffer, “For instance, my feeling definitely is, without having asked you one question, that you didn’t do it.”
He let it drop, and Proffer took it like a man, though he had the feeling of being knocked over and tumbled ashore by a wave, mast high, at least.
“And I’m not going to ask you any questions either,” the Captain went on, “Because it would just be a waste of time and nothing more,” he paused, as Proffer got to his feet on that shore, “What I’d like to ask you to think about though is this, Mr. Proffer: Who in your judgment out of all your students, your teachers, anybody at all you’ve got around here, Who would you say or think or even slightly suspect could be the kind of individual to break out like that and pull such a thing?” He paused, watching Proffer, “That’s what I ask you to think about. You don’t have to give me any answer for a while. Think about it. I want you to have a really good, solid think about it.” He paused and pulled out a cigarette, offering Proffer one, who had to refuse, being a nonsmoker since birth, “And then you can let me have any names that you come up with. That’s all.”