plump lips. He put his fingertips together in front of his chin.
"I'm afraid school policy will not permit it," he said. "I'm truly sorry."
"Who's in charge of school policy?" I said.
"Myself and, of course, the board."
"Of course," I said. "I bet that board is a collection of tigers."
He smiled.
"They are dedicated people," he said. "They care about the Dowling School."
"Isn't that ducky," I said.
"No need to be offensive."
"The hell there isn't," I said. "Everybody wants this to go away-you, the cops, even the parents of the alleged shooters."
"I believe they are more than alleged," Garner said.
"They are alleged until they are convicted," I said. "And that hasn't happened yet."
"That is something of an equivocation," Garner said.
"Normally, when everyone wants something to go away, it's because if it doesn't, it will cause them discomfort. Maybe you'll be revealed as a bad educator, or the cops will be revealed as bad lawmen, or the parents will be revealed as bad parents. And that will discomfort you all."
"I think that's about enough, Mr. Spenser."
"Almost," I said. "But I do want you to know that I am a carrier of discomfort. I am deeply committed to it, and I'm going to find out what happened."
"They killed people," Garner said. "Isn't that enough?"
"No," I said. "It's not."
"I'm ordering you to leave school property," Garner said. "If you return, I'll have you arrested."
I thought about saying "I shall return," decided it had been used before, and settled for walking out without a word and not closing the door.
Chapter 20
IT TOOK ME a couple of days of hanging around outside the Dowling School, feeling like a pederast, to find where the kids congregated after class. It was a place called Coffee Nut, where they could sit in booths and drink coffee and eat doughnuts and smoke and impress one another. The owners of Coffee Nut had obviously written off the adult market they might have originally planned on, and decided to commit themselves to adolescence. There was music I didn't recognize playing loudly when I came in. The place was half full, and everyone turned to look at me, as if I had violated a segregation law. Except that I was, of course, poised and debonair. Otherwise, I might have felt ill at ease.
There were booths along one side and in the back. A counter ran along the other side. I sat at the counter next to a couple of schoolgirls who were giggling and whispering, maybe about me. Oh, Spenser, you dashing rogue, you've still got it. The girls were wearing what I would eventually discover most Dowling schoolgirls wore: short, pleated skirts and sleeveless tops. One was blonde with a pink top. One was brunette with a white top. I ordered coffee, which took a while, because I had to reject a half a dozen special coffee drinks, which I also didn't recognize. There were two highschool girls in tan uniforms working the counter and an older guy wearing a tan overseas cap that said COFFEE NUT on it, who was making the coffee.
I turned and leaned my back against the counter. "You girls go to Dowling School?" I said.
"Yeah," Pink Top said and giggled. "You?"
"Couldn't pass the entrance exam," I said. "Everybody in here from Dowling?"
"Sure," Pink Top said. "'Cept them."
She nodded at the people working the counter. "You here last year when the shooting happened?"
"I guess so," the girl said.
They had thought it sort of fun to get into conversation with a large older man, especially because they were surrounded by friends. But now they were uncomfortable.
"My name's Spenser," I said.
White Top poked Pink Top with her elbow. "See," she said. "I told you it was him."
Pink Top said, "We had an assembly about you."
"Hot dog," I said.
"Mr. Garner said we weren't supposed to talk with you."
"Why not?" I said.
"Mr. Garner said you were trying to ruin the Dowling School's reputation, and if you succeeded, we'd never get into a good college."
"Do you believe Mr. Garner?" I said.
They giggled again.
"Royce the Voice," White Top said. "The People's Choice."
"May I take that as a `no, we don't believe him'?" I said.
"Royce is gross," Pink Top said.
"Or Groyce," White Top said, and they both giggled some more.
"What would happen," I said, "if he were right, and you didn't get into a good college?"
"My mother would kill herself," Pink Top said.
"My mother would call me a slut," White Top said.
"For not getting into a good school?" I said.
"She calls me a slut whenever she's mad," White