So, here's a nice big chapter to wind up on for now. Thanks to everyone who read this far and expressed a kind interest in reading the rest. Maybe I will post it to Amazon, although I've discovered--as some of you have, I'm sure--a few careless errors that need fixing, and perhaps one middling size plot point that might work better in an earlier chapter. Once that's done, well, maybe...
But for now, this will have to suffice:
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Chapter 6
The Second Mystery
Oz, Ben, and about a hundred other boys poured out a side door and Ben found himself on the quad surrounded by six other buildings, including a few that were closed and barricaded. Directly across from him was a building marked "Belden Hall" on an arch over the door, and from beneath that arch came an equal number of girls all trooping off toward the main building. In moments they were back at the main doors where the shuttle bus had first dropped them off.
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Dean Taras was there, directing everyone down a massive corridor on the left ("straight on through. Watch out for the workmen. We're still getting settled over in the business office. No shoving once you're in line for supper! There's plenty for everyone!").
After he'd loaded his tray with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and a huge bowl of green jello on the side, he and Oz made their way to the tables. There were cards at the head of each table, marked "1st", "2nd" and so on through all the years the school accommodated. Ben breathed a sigh of relief. Although he didn't realize it til then, he'd almost been expecting a label reading "DCs" and thought he and his fellow disciplinary cases would be segregated from the rest of the student body.
He and Oz picked seats about halfway down one table reserved for first-year students. They saved an empty space between them for Toby, who had not yet arrived. Ben craned his neck to look at the doorway, and though the line had dwindled to just one or two stragglers, there was no sign of his new friend.
Ben found himself seated next to another boy his height an age, but with a round friendly face. He nodded. The boy nervously nodded back.
"H-hi," he said nervously. "G-guess it's your first summer here too."
"Yep," Ben said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Ben," was all he offered. He didn't know how many people had read about the escapade that got him in the school, but if Oz and Toby had, it was a good bet others had, too."
The boy introduced himself as Teddy Jordan and it turned out that he lived directly below Ben and Oz in room 323. Teddy's older sister, Tina, was also at the school. Teddy pointed up to the end of the large room, where a smaller table had been set off and Ben could see about a dozen older kids. A tall girl with long, straight blonde hair looked over, then smiled and waved at Teddy, who shyly waved back. Even though Tina had obviously been looking at her brother, Ben felt his heart race and found himself blushing as he too, hazarded a tiny wave. "She's 16, so she came back as a counselor. She's really good at English and stuff, so they're going to put her in the library," Teddy said.
"Is that what the counselors do, help out with classes?" Ben asked.
"Oh yeah, and other stuff. They work with the teachers to keep an eye out for the kids, to help them, and report on them if they get out of line. You know," he said.
Ben looked up again and saw that Tina Jordan was now talking to a somewhat beefy boy who'd dropped an overloaded dinner tray on the table next to her and was alternating between speaking to her and turning to shovel food into his mouth, then turning back to continue his conversation. When he turned his head back to his tray, Ben's heart sank to see the boy was none other than Greg, the one who had accosted them on the bus. Greg shoveled a heap of mashed potatoes into his mouth, then turned once again to talk to Tina, who by this time had bent her head back slightly. Even from this distance, Ben could see that Greg was spraying food with every word he spoke.
"So who's the guy next to your sister?" he asked.
"Oh," said Teddy, his eyes narrowing. "That's Greg Grindle. He's a counselor too." Teddy lowered his voice. "I hate him," he whispered. "But my sister thinks he's hot you-know-what."
"Well," Ben said, "maybe she just likes having food sprayed on her."
Teddy snorted and almost spit out his own food. After a hacking moment, he laughed aloud and gave Ben a cautious smile. "Be careful what you say. Greg's family has been coming here for years and a lot of people suck up to him. You badmouth him behind his back and it'll get back to him, I guarantee it."
Ben shrugged. "I'll take my chances."
Just then, Toby appeared, slamming a tray down on the table and flopping into the seat Ben and Oz had saved for him. He appeared out of breath and streaked with dust and sweat.
"What happened to you?" Oz asked, looking him over.
"Oh, nothing, just tripped in the dirt running over here. Sorry I'm late," he said, then stabbed at the salad he'd set on his plate and stuffed it into his mouth.
After about 20 minutes, when everyone had finished at least one helping of the food up at the buffet, Ben noticed a man walked to the front of the dining hall, carrying a microphone stand. It was evidently already on because he made a great deal of crackling and whoomphing as he walked along. It was this noise more than the presence of the man himself that made everyone gradually quiet down.
The man was short and stocky, built rather like Dean Taras herself, Ben thought. He was balding on top but had a thin grey mustache on his lip. He set the microphone stand down in front of the counselor's table (KA-BONNNG it echoed through the room as it landed), then cleared his throat for quiet. He needn't have bothered. By this time, everyone was stone silent.
"Good evening children," he said in a slightly nasally twang. "My name is Oscar Reston. I am the grandson of the original Oscar Reston, the author of the Reston Twins mysteries, of which I'm sure you have heard. I just flew in a short while ago and it's always a thrill to see my second home, especially from the air."
Reston paused, and in that second, even without looking under tables to check for ankle bracelets, Ben could have picked out everyone in the hall who was a regular Sherrinford student and not a disciplinary case, because they were the only ones clapping. The whole moment had a very staged feel to it, and Oscar Reston beamed for a moment, exposing a thin row of teeth just below his mustache.
"It is also my honor to be the director of the Sherrinford School
"But first, I think I must address the, uh, elephant in the room. As most of you are aware, for the first time ever, Sherrinford School
At this there was a minor rumbling among the students. Apparently not everyone had heard about this, Ben thought.
"I have assured your parents as I will now assure you: We have maintained full autonomy in this program and have carefully selected the candidates for the program. No disciplinary student here has been convicted of a violent crime or drug offense. Each case was individually examined in the most minute detail by our school attorney, criminal law instructor, and esteemed alum, David Hawksmoor."
At this, Reston gestured towards the counselors' table and for the first time, Ben saw a small line of older men and women gathered at doorway. The workmen had gone, their stacks of printer paper boxes towering nearby. The men and women stood in front of the boxes and Ben easily picked out the severe, hawk-nosed man he had met all those weeks ago. A small smattering of polite applause went up and Hawksmoor gave the curtest of nods.
"The students we selected for the disciplinary program—I hate to call it that, it's really a rehabilitative program—were chosen because they were, in our estimation, worthy of attending Sherrinford. Mr. Hawksmoor and our selection committee reviewed their cases and selected only those who showed superior analytical skills, powers of observation and deduction, or in some other way showed the abilities that we prize so highly in grooming our students to take their place among the very best in the ranks of jurisprudence, public and private investigation, and general law enforcement."
As Ben looked around, he could see a lot of eyes glazing over and began to wonder if maybe Oscar Reston should have given his speech before everyone had a full stomach. But then he had the sense that someone was watching him. He looked around, and then he saw a pair of eyes glaring in his direction from the counselors' table. Greg Grindle. Except he wasn't looking at Ben. Ben turned slightly and saw that Toby was engaged in a staring match and muttering something. It didn't sound like English, but it sure sounded like swear words.
Oscar Reston cleared his throat into the microphone, bringing Ben back.
"My point is, we welcome these students here," he said, blinking and looking around nervously, as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying. "They will have a few more, um, rules to follow, but aside from that and a few additional classes and duties, they are to be accorded the same privileges and rights as any other Sherrinford student, and I expect all you old boys and girls to make them feel as though they belong." At this, he arched an eyebrow and stood a little on his tiptoes, trying to look both grave and severe, but failing on both counts. "Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
There was a rumble of "Yes, Mr. Reston ," at which Oscar beamed again and rocked back on his heels.
He went on to introduce other instructors at the school, reiterate warnings about staying away from buildings that were closed on campus (there were quite a few more than just the dormitories, it seemed to Ben). Then Reston went off on a long digression about being a pilot and how much he loved flying his little airplane in from the city for these summer sessions, and invited students to see his display of aerial photographs of the campus over in the hall by the staff offices. All of the droning began to run together as Ben himself was feeling the effects of his meal now and was starting to zone out. He perked up a little bit when Oscar mentioned that all trails were open to students and they were encouraged to use them during their free time after classes, and all of Friday, Saturday and Sunday—"although, again, some of you new students may have special work duties on those free days," he added, and Ben thought he saw Greg Grindle smirk at him.
"You will have tomorrow to yourselves, although for new students, there will be a tour of the campus and grounds at . Meet at the front door of the main building here," he said. "Finally, you will note in your materials something about the school mystery. Our returning students will know something of that, our new students will find out in due time. We will have more information about this year's mystery later on in the week. For now, though, the school mystery will be a…er… mystery," he concluded lamely. Then he started, remembering something. "Oh, also, after the counselors have handed out the schedules, I will need all special-program students to remain behind." He seemed about to say something else, rocked on his heels for a moment, and then stepped away from the microphone.
And then teachers and counselors were passing among them, calling out names and handing out schedules. Teddy Jordan's pretty sister Tina edged by, calling out the names of first-year girls ("Emily Tancredi? Briana Tanner?"), but stopped briefly to ruffle Teddy's hair affectionately and to give Ben—who was still gawking at her—an unexpected wink. He flinched as though struck and turned his head away, only to find himself facing Toby, whose eyes were fixed on him.
"Good God, Bridge," he said, glowering. "Have some self-respect."
"Bit haphazard," Oz remarked over the top of this, as he watched teachers and counselors calling out names and zigzagging around the hall. "Would have been much easier to sit us all alphabetically, instead of by year. I'd think, uh oh—" he trailed off.
"Bridge! Burglar Ben Bridge
Ben looked up in time to catch a wadded piece of paper in his face. Greg Grindle moved quickly past, muttering something about criminals getting too much press, then called out more names. Ben saw that Teddy Jordan was giving him a wary look and had edged himself away ever so slightly. Ben shook his head inwardly and unwrapped the crumpled paper that turned out to be his schedule.
It was simple chart of blocked hours. As the judge had told him, he'd have classes most of the day—it really was just like summer school:
BRIDGE, BENJAMIN (DC)
SCHED MON-THURS
6-7 Work Assignment (see Dean Taras)
7-8 Breakfast
8-9 Writing/Reporting
9-10 Crime Lab
10-10:30 Break
Detectives in Fact and Fiction
Lunch/exercise
1:30-2 Observation & Deduction
2-2:30 Law and Ethics
FRI-SATURDAY
8-11 Work Assignment
SUNDAY
Free
Even as Ben felt his heart sink—he was really going to have to get up at every morning and work before class? Before breakfast even?—his eyes were drawn to a cryptic note at the very bottom of the schedule:
STUDENTS OR STUDENT TEAMS MAY USE LUNCH, FREE TIME, AND EVENINGS UNTIL LIGHTS OUT () TO WORK ON THIS YEAR'S SCHOOL MYSTERY
He was about to show this to Toby and Oz, who hadn't yet received their schedules, when Tina Jordan stopped by again, looking a little flustered. "Teddy?" she asked her brother. "Have you met any of the new girls? I've found everyone except Briana Tanner." Teddy shook his head.
"I don't know her either," Ben offered stupidly. Tina gave him a distracted smile and moved on out of the row of tables, walking over to Dean Taras and Mr. Hawksmoor, who were standing near the microphone, conferring.
Now Greg Grindle was back, charging down the table, still barking out names of first-year boys "Alan Gerrity! C'mon, c'mon, raise yer hand! Oswald Goldrick!" he said and stopped a few feet away, dangling Oz's schedule, making Oz stand up and reach for it. As soon as Oz's hand was near the piece of paper, Greg snatched it away smiling. Ben felt Toby tense like a bowstring and saw him put one sneakered foot on his seat, as if ready to launch himself across the table.
"Cool it," Ben hissed, putting a hand on Toby's arm, marveling again at the strength he felt on such a thin limb. "Geez, are you sure you weren't arrested for a violent crime?" Toby shot him a venomous look, but settled—barely—back into his seat.
In a moment, Grindle had tired of torturing Oz and let the schedule flutter to the table, where Oz retrieved it and scanned it, smiling. "Wow, Crime Lab. I bet we're going to learn all sorts of forensic science."
"Yeah, but what about the work detail?" Ben said.
Oz seemed unperturbed. "I have mine during lunch."
"What?" hooted Ben. "I have to be up at 6 every morning for my work assignment!" And he showed Oz, who looked mildly interested, as though Ben had shown him a scabbed elbow.
"Hmm, so you do," he remarked. "I'm working in the computer lab from to ." He frowned. "And Dean Taras herself will be my supervisor. I thought it would be someone on the school IT staff."
"What about you?" Ben asked Toby, then realized his friend didn't have a piece of paper yet. Toby sighed. "Guess they didn't have one printed up for me, since I'm a late entry. I'll go up and talk to the Dean," he said, pulling himself upright. He walked right by Tina Jordan, who was now at the microphone calling for her one missing girl, and spoke to Dean Taras, who seemed annoyed—Ben suspected that was her default expression—but gestured for Toby to follow her. She excused herself from Mr. Hawksmoor, who now gazed around the room. His sharp eyes briefly passed by Ben, but then came right back and fixed him with a look. He raised a hand, extended one index finger and curtly gestured it towards himself.
Ben hopped up as thought a rope had been attached to that finger and wrapped around his neck. He walked smartly to the front of the room, where Mr. Hawksmoor extended a hand. Ben took it and they shook briefly. Ben had been right: Hawksmoor's grip was as unexpectedly firm as Toby's had been.
"Benjamin. Settling in, I trust?"
"Ye-yes sir. I'm in Doyle Hall."
Hawksmoor allowed himself a thin smile. "Ah, I was there my second year. And I understand you are rooming with Oswald Goldrick?"
"Yes. We met on the way up here."
Hawksmoor nodded at this. "Hmm, hmm. Interesting combination, but not a bad one. I understand why Dean Taras had to room you together. Which reminds me: you know we have an excellent library here. You'll have free access to the computers there, since you couldn't have one in your room."
Ben nodded dumbly.
Hawksmoor went on. "I usually teach Law and Ethics, but this year I'm afraid I’ll have to engage a substitute for class—although this summer I do hope to be able to deliver one or two lectures. I suggest you pay close attention. I seem to remember in your specific instance, you have a strong sense of what's right, but less of a grasp on what's legal."
Ben bowed his head. "Yes sir."
Hawksmoor nodded, indicating their conversation was over.
As Ben walked back to his table, Toby came trotting over, holding his schedule. "Got it from Dean Taras," he squeaked. Ben looked. Toby's schedule was handwritten, apparently by the Dean herself. "I'll be helping the school librarian," he added, making Ben wonder when he'd find out about his assignment—and his schedule was the same as Ben's.
By now, all the students, except for the DCs, were heading out through the door they'd come in. The workmen were back and now they were stacking more boxes by this door. Tina Jordan was standing there, too, looking ever more upset and stopping each girl and occasionally calling out the name of that last girl she couldn't find. It was all creating quite the bottleneck.
Shouldering through the throng came a harassed-looking man holding a laptop computer and a handheld scanner just like the one used by the technician Ben had met earlier (had that really been this morning?). The DCs all had a similar look of recognition on their faces. They knew what was coming.
The man set his laptop on the buffet table and barked at the students to line up. Ben stared at the man—he was sporting the most stupendous, ridiculous mustache Ben had ever seen on anyone outside the pages of a Civil War history book. It covered his mouth entirely so that when he spoke, Ben wasn't sure if it was the man himself, or just the mustache that was issuing instructions.
"Line up!" he barked. "My name is Zoltan Zalud, and in addition to being chief of the school Crime Lab, I am also in charge of all school computers, security and associated technology!" He glowered at them. "This year, that includes setting up the monitoring system for all of the Variable Area Personal Monitoring Devices!"
As Zoltan launched into an explanation of how the bracelets worked—it was almost word for word what the technician and Ben's parole officer had told him this morning—students around Ben were already snickering and making comments about both the man's name and his outrageous facial hair. Ben looked around, sure that Toby would have some acid remark to make, but Ben couldn't see him anywhere in the crowd.
"Listen up!" Zoltan shouted, his every sentence punctuated in exclamation points. "During the day, starting at precisely , the VAPMDs will be in Daytime Mode—programmed to allow you access to the school buildings and grounds! You'll get a map on your tour tomorrow that clearly delineates the boundaries of the school! At night, precisely at lights out, the VAPMDs will automatically go into Curfew Mode! That means the boundaries of the VAPMDs will be configured such that you can only move about within the precise GPS coordinates of your dormitory! Step more than a few feet out of the door while the VAPMD is in Curfew Mode, and your device will go into Alert Mode, sending an infraction signal to the monitoring system! Only a security admin like myself, the staff at the school infirmary, or certain other teachers, will have an access code to override the system, so if it's in an emergency, you will need to go to one of the approved admins to have the code overridden!" He paused, letting his mustache catch its breath. "Failure to do so will cause the infraction signal to stand, and the police will be called out immediately to pursue and arrest you! Any questions?"
Ben looked at Oz, who raised an eyebrow. "Forget what I said earlier about learning anything in Crime Lab," he sighed. "I could have explained the system better than that. All of a sudden, I'm really glad Dean Taras is my work supervisor."
Zoltan barked again at the DCs to line up—then realized they already were—and impatiently gestured at the first one to come forward so he could scan the ankle bracelet and log the student into the system. As Ben edged forward, he was uncomfortably aware that many of the regular students had remained in the entryway of the cafeteria, gawking. Several were laughing and jeering, and Ben was sure he could hear Greg Grindle's grating, guffawing voice over everyone's. After several humiliating minutes, it was finally his turn. Zoltan roughly grabbed his leg, and after several swipes, he finally got the beeping noise he wanted from the laptop and Ben was logged in.
Face red, Ben pushed through the other students to get out of the cafeteria. Oz was right behind him, smiling.
"I got a good look at the laptop screen while he was trying to scan you. It's a really cheap monitoring system—not a true security system, but a modified inventory database program used by Chinese cargo container ships. I think it would be fairly easy to override, if I could just get my hands on—"
"Hey!" Toby cried, pushing his way through the other students.
"Where were you?" Ben asked.
"Right behind you, duh. Was that walrus dude a dope or what?"
This made Ben laugh, and helped dispel some of the humiliation he'd been feeling. Cheered, he was about to suggest they get out of here and head back to Doyle, when Dean Taras appeared at their side with such suddenness that even Toby jumped ("That woman's everywhere!" he remarked later.)
"Benjamin Bridge
Ben froze. "Yes, ma'am?" he said.
Dean Taras consulted her ubiquitous clipboard and removed from it a small slip of paper. "Your work assignment. Report to the Building and Grounds Office—it's the small brick building near the south gate—at 6 sharp, Monday morning. Missing ANY work assignment could be grounds for immediate expulsion," she said, looking warningly him. Then she walked off, calling other students out of the crowd that was now finally beginning to break up and filter out of the doorway.
"What'd you get?" Toby asked, as Ben unfolded the paper. "Maybe you're in the library too?"
"Uhh, not quite," Ben said, his heart falling into his shoes as he read the two words on the note:
Garbage Duty
But before he could say anything, Tina Jordan burst into the entryway, angry and frantic.
"BRIANA TANNER?!?" she boomed, louder even than Zoltan Zalud. "HAS ANYONE SEEN BRIANA TANNER?"
Dean Taras was by her side in a second to pull the anxious girl down the corridor. But as they left, Ben heard her say, in an upset and worried voice. "You don't understand, Dean Taras! I think we have a student missing!"
