East High Murders

by Joe Doki

When Ripper, The Cellist, is implicated in Sharpay Evans' murder, he must make every effort to stop the real killer and clear his name.

I'd had some bad days before, but this was ridiculous. Three dead students and I was one of them.

Let me set the scene. It was last week when I was sitting in the orchestral room with Kelsey. We were going over a new piece she had written for me in the musical. My name is Ripper and I'm a cellist. In my spare time I enjoy the works of Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie, but if you want to know about me, you are reading the wrong book. This is a story about the East High murders.

So, there we are, Kelsey and I working on this piece when Ryan Evans walked in. I say "walked", it was more of a strut, combined with a slide type thing, as if there was some sort of invisible music he was hearing, and was forced to dance to.
"Sharpay," the poor boy called, "are you in here?"

There was no response.

Ryan Evans was a decent guy. A very talented entertainer who would either make his fortune on Broadway, or spend his life on cruise ships, and love every minute of it. Standing taller than you would expect someone 5'8" to stand, he had an aura of self confidence. He was one of only two people capable of keeping his sister, Sharpay, under control. Today however, he was about as cool as a dragon's breath after eating some chili. Even that outfit, which consisted nearly entirely of sequins and tassels, couldn't hide the fact that he was upset, and nervous.

"Sorry Ryan, I haven't seen her" Kelsey piped up after about a minute of awkward silence. It was strange; at that moment I realized I hadn't seen her either. Like, since yesterday even. Sharpay was a primadonna, but she has never, in the 6 odd weeks I've known her, missed a rehearsal. Suddenly alarm bells were going off in my head. If Ryan hadn't seen her either, that made her officially a "Missing person". I don't know why I said what I said, perhaps boredom, perhaps concern for Sharpay, perhaps I just couldn't say no to Ryan's puppy dog expression. "I'll help you look"

We hit the gym first. If Sharpay wasn't singing with us or dancing with Ryan, there was a good bet she was eating with Zeke. You would know about Zeke, he was one of the Championship winning Wildcats. He was part of what they called "The Golden Triforce", the three guys responsible for the win. The man could also make a lemon meringue pie that would blow your head off, but more on that later. Zeke showed a great deal of concern as well. "I'm sorry guys; I don't know how much help I can be. I haven't seen her since yesterday at lunch."

"What happened?" I asked, hoping he would spare us the details of his, to be honest, disgustingly slopping make out session. He didn't. Lucky for you, I'm a nicer guy than he is.

After swallowing a few times, I added the useful facts up in my head. He was supposed to pick her up and drive her home after school, but received a message telling him not to at about 3. Thinking nothing of it, he drove home anyway.

Something clicked with Ryan.

"She left rehearsal so you could pick her up at about 2:50, why wouldn't she show up?"

I started to sweat. Things were looking bad. Something bad had happened to Sharpay Evens between the rehearsal room and the door. A maximum distance of maybe 100 feet. I didn't know what, and I got the feeling that I didn't want to, but do you think that stopped me? No, you're right, it didn't, but it really should have.
"We have to check the rooms between the rehearsal room and the exit."

Of the four rooms that we searched, we found only one piece of useful information, a scrap of paper with three numbers on it. 8,29,58. I recognized it immediately as the combination to my locker, and then went and did the stupidest thing I could think of. I opened up my locker.

There she was, in all her blonde glory. Wearing the same outfit she was when she left the rehearsal room, all except the scarf. The scarf was replaced with a thin piece of wire, almost like a…

"It's a cello string" Kelsey stated. Now things were getting interesting. There was a popular blonde starlet who had been garroted with a cello string and shoved in the locker of the only cello player at the school. It was a pretty picture alright. I'm sure I fit the frame nicely, even if I wanted to wear it as much as I wanted to wear black eyes from Zeke and Ryan. I figured out pretty quickly that if I was going to avoid both of them I would have to run, clear my name and catch the killer. Lucky for me I have some friends who are much smarter than me.

The first of many things I learned during this ordeal was how much time one has to think when they are running for their lives. It's not very much. I needed a place to hang out and deduce what was going on, but there was no way that was going to happen with Ryan and Zeke on my tail. I was able to give them the slip by hiding in the Horticulture Club Rooftop Garden, but I had no idea how much time I had, so my motivation was to move and think as fast as I could. Here were the pieces I had: Sharpay dead, around 3 pm, strangled with a cello string and thrown in my locker. It all seemed, well, TOO perfect, except of course for the scrap that had my combination on it. I'd had the same locker for years, and I'm not stupid enough to give away the combination for it, so whoever killed Sharpay had gotten a hold of my locker combination. Perhaps they bought it? Only one name leapt to mind, Mongo. The man was a very good trader and wouldn't think twice about giving up someone's dental records, let alone their locker numbers, if he could make something resembling a profit on the deal. The other problem was the missing scarf. When Sharpay left the hall she was definitely wearing a crimson scarf. It wasn't much but it was all I had. It was about that time that my time ran out. The roof hatch shook with force as someone, I'm assuming Zeke, he was the stronger of the two, smacked against it. No time to think, just act, I told myself, and I looked around for an alternative exit route. I didn't like what I saw, but I liked the idea of getting caught without an airtight case of innocence worse. With everything I had, I made a flying leap off the roof. I'm sure I made the groundskeeper angry by landing on his pile of leaves, but I was too panicked to care. As I ran, I formulated the beginnings of a plan: Talk to Kratnoff, then talk to Mongo.

Kratnoff and I go back a little ways. He's helped me with homework, particularly history, more times than I can count. He was much smarter than me, and trusts me. He was the obvious choice for me to turn to in this, my hour of need. At least, that's what I tried to tell him, all he really wanted was to go back to bed. I recounted the day's events to him as he tried to ward off sleep, but by the end of it he was enthralled. "So, I'm assuming you didn't kill her?"

I gave him the single most sarcastic look I could muster

"I see. Well," silence. "Well, we know Sharpay had enemies, but to be honest, this seems more like an attack on you." He was right. I have to admit that I hadn't considered the possibility that I was being set up to destroy me rather than a matter of convenience. So who would want to hurt me? Who benefits from my reputation being destroyed? "The other thing is the scarf" Kratnoff said, breaking my trance like concentration. "The scarf is gone now, either taken from the body or dropped somewhere. My guess is if you find the scarf you find the killer."

"It would have been taken" I said, thinking out loud, "they needed to see the cello string."

"Ripper, my boy" Kratnoff said with a wide smile on his face "you are learning!" I took it as a compliment, and then got down to deducing:

the killer knows me well enough to make it look like I killed someone

The killer may have a scarf that looks exactly like Sharpay's

The killer is smart enough to only leave clues that link back to me.

This was going to be a long day

Visiting Mongo was a lot less helpful than I thought it would be. He was a big guy, but ultimately harmless. Intimidating, but a little, dim I guess. He knew the value, however, of information, and, incidentally, a lot of other things. It was this shrewd business sense that allowed him to get away with whatever extortion he wanted. I was hoping that he would help out an old friend who was unjustly accused, but he wouldn't give up anything useful about my locker. I was almost certain he had sold the combination to someone, but he wasn't going to tell me without a hefty contribution. And that was exactly what I didn't have. Rather than try and run up this brick wall, I thought of something else useful I could get out of him.

"I'm in the market for a red scarf. Let me know if one comes out," I slipped him a chocolate bar, a small price to pay "and who's selling," The only response I got was a casual nod. Mongo was shrewd, but he was honest as well. He would help me. I'm sure it's got something to do with a Trader's Code, giving people what they ask for. Not necessarily what they want, but what they ask for.

So all that was left to do was wait. I couldn't do anything else helpful besides think of who would want to bring me down, and why they would kill Sharpay to do it. As I was sitting behind the gym I was worried I was going to get bored. Luckily that didn't happen. Unluckily this was because while I was thinking, something roughly the size and shape of our composer friend Kelsey fell in front of me from the roof. There were no leaves, or anything to break her fall, and something told me it wasn't suicide. I knew I wouldn't have much time before somebody got there, so I looked over my dead friend as quickly as I could. All I found was a single white glove, covered in rhinestones that she had landed on. Definitely not mine, but familiar. It was almost certainly Ryan's.

Ok, so to recap, two students dead, one, a starlet, strangled by "me", the other, a composer, thrown off a building by "Ryan". It didn't take a genius to figure out that the Arts department was being targeted for some reason. It was time to bite the bullet. I needed info and I needed it now. There was only one woman in the school who could help me now. It was just a shame she was deranged.

Miss Darbus' room was cleaner than one would expect. There was an air of confusion and chaos that followed Darbus around, but in the office, it appeared to hide, in wait. She walked in and closed her door with a thud. It was a good time to make my move. "The rivalry's back on, isn't it?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. I know, it was a little Batman, even for me, but lets be honest, there probably wasn't going to be too many chances for me to do this. "Ripper," she responded once she calmed down "You really shouldn't be here. Ichikowa is looking for you"

"I know, I'll bet by now he's looking for Ryan too."

"Bang on the money kid," She had such a wonderful turn of phrase "Mckessie is on the case. You are in real trouble Ripper"

"Then we had better make this fast. Are you and Bolton going at each other again?" She needn't have answered, her look spoke volumes. "Yes, the funding war is back on. OK?" And there we have it. Motive. Sharpay Evens was a draw card. The Arts Faculty has brought in good hard money, the type of which would compete with the tickets sold at games. If Sharpay fell from grace, as it were, there would be less chance of Coach Bolton being undersold. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to make sure that the arts would be buried forever. So he takes out the Cellist by framing him up, then he takes out the composer, and makes it look like the only other guy who could compete with Sharpay did it.

It was solid, but I didn't want to go to court with it. I ran through my head who else Bolton would need to rub out in order to get his wish, a school of no arts. I ran a few names through my skull as quick as I could. There were only two major players left. Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez. I hate running numbers, but I didn't think Bolton capable of killing his own son, so I figured the safe bet was that Montez was next. THUMP THUMP THUMP "Ms Darbus, Taylor McKessie, Department of Student Safety, please open this door."

"Thanks Ms D" was all I could whisper as she practically threw me out her window. Luckily this one was a first floor window, so I was ok. Well, ok enough to run from the fuzz. I needed a way to get back into the school and protect Gabriella without being caught. It turns out I needn't have worried. I got maybe 50 feet away from the classroom before I was body checked and fell to the ground. "Ripper," the voice that I assume body checked me, "My name is Martha Cox and I am placing you under arrest,"

I woke up in what appeared to be a holding cell of some kind. I figured I was being watched, because the second I moved Martha and Taylor walked in.

"Good Morning…" Martha said

"…Killer" Taylor cut her off. It wasn't difficult to see who the good cop was, and who was the bad cop. "What does Azale mean, Ripper"

"Azale?" I was thinking, "I think he was a character in the musical,"

"you think?" Taylor was getting colder. Luckily Martha was here to help "if you aren't sure, why did you write it?"

"write it?"

"Stop repeating the last words we say back at us" Taylor snapped. "We found it written on the body of your victim,"

"hey" I protested. "I didn't kill anybody…"

"you have to admit," Martha again, "there is an overwhelming case against you. The only reason you are not incarcerated now is so we can find out what Azale means,"

"I have no idea what Azale means."

"he's just like Ryan," Taylor sighed, "loyal to his clan to a fault."

"clan?!" I protested again "You can't be serious,"

"Why then, was the same word found written on both victims?"

"look," I decided to get the matter back into hand, "you can hold me here as long as you want, but first I need to go and stop another murder. I have reason to believe that Gabriella Montez will be next!"

There was a deadly silence.

"no way!" was all Martha could say.

"what?" I asked, expecting that things probably couldn't get much worse than they were already.

"Montez has been attacked. She ate some bad Crème Brule, it was laced with Rat poison" Taylor remained totally calm while saying this, "She isn't expected to make it through the night. We have Zeke in custody as we speak"

"Let me guess," I said, half bluffing, "you found the word Azale on her didn't you?"

"yes"

I was back in control. With both Zeke and Ryan out of the way for now, I didn't need to worry about getting caught. I could gather the evidence I needed to prove Coach Bolton was guilty of two murders and attempting a third. I was also curious about why someone like Bolton, who hated the arts, would be using one of the characters in our play as the trademark in his killings. I was getting much more questions than answers, and staying in this cell wasn't helping matters at all. I needed to throw the heat off me and on to the real killer, and suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, I had the greatest idea I have ever had.

"ok, it's obvious we each know… things that the other doesn't," I opened with, "Now, I can get you absolutely everything you need, but first, you have to kill me."

This is about the time you guys walked in. I convinced Taylor to make it look like I had "died in custody" to buy me a little time to get the proof I needed. There was a few huge problems however. Firstly, as I watched Bolton from under the bleachers, he seemed very worried. Not "I'm gonna get caught" worried, more like "my player killed somebody" worried. Second, and more importantly, he actually appeared to show concern when comforting his son. The more I thought about it, the more it came to me that this couldn't just be about funding money. For one thing, the last "killer" was a Jock. Coach Bolton is a lot of things, but he's not stupid or disloyal. He would not send down one of his own men for the sake of a few extra funding dollars. There were a few other things that bothered me too. Azale. He was a character from the musical, I knew that much, but not having actually read the script, I didn't know what significance he had, or what he did. I decided this Bolton thing was going nowhere, and despite Taylor's explicit instructions to stay in the Gym, I decided that Azale needed further research and headed to the evidence locker, where I was sure they kept Kelsey's computer.

Moving around while dead is a lot easier than you think. If you die, people stop noticing you when you run, or jump, or latch on to a window, or break that window, or shimmy through the hole you just made. This was incredibly lucky for me. I was sure I didn't have much time however, so I began looking around for anything useful. Luckily, laptops don't make good evidence very often, cause there was only one in there. I booted it up and was a little surprised at what I saw. There was a file, titled "Sharpay.phone.pix" which instantly struck me as odd. Against my better judgement I opened it up. I won't go into detail here, but lets just say that Miss Darbus, Ryan and Sharpay were all in a few very compromising positions. I quickly copied the file to my thumb drive, I figured something like that is sure to come in handy, then got down to the real task, finding Azale.

I went through a few files, did a few searches and finally came across something concrete. It was a script, called "The Rise and Fall of the Demon Azale" and was tucked away in a file called "rejects". It told the story of a young knight, brave and true, who sought a challenge worthy of him. He inlisted the help of three townsfolk who would help him summon a powerful demon to show his true strength, a chef, an actor and a musician. The ritual called for the pure of heart to be murdered to summon the beast, who would answer one wish. The Knight lied and told the three men that he would wish for wealth beyond their dreams, but really asked to challenge the beast to a battle to the death. The musician was ordered to kill the most talented person in the village. He strangled her with his Lute string.

Could just be a coincidence

The actor was ordered to kill the one in the village who told the best stories, an author… OR COMPOSER….

Lets see, for the hat trick…

The Chef was ordered to kill his best friends true love…

You guessed it, he fed her poison.

So someone is trying to summon this beast, so they can ask for something, or, maybe they just want to fight it. I kept reading.

Azale appeared and asked what his summoners wished. The knight asked for his challenge and Azale obliged, easily defeating the arrogant knight. The three murderers protested that they should be repaid for the souls they gave the demon, and they were each given great power, in exchange for freeing the demon. They took the powers offered and then used them on the demon to trap him in what they dubbed…

No way…

It couldn't be…

The prison was called a Triforce.

At the end of the play it states that the knight wasn't killed, and that the demon could be summoned again, if the Triforce was to be broken.

There was a knock on the door. "I can hear you in there Ripper" Mckessie. OH NO, NOT NOW! Stay quiet ripper, you have to get to the Gym. Bolton or Danforth were next. They probably don't know you're in here, its probably a bluff.

"YOU HAVE A MESSAGE!!!"

Why, WHY did I buy that stupid obnoxious message tone! Too late! All that was left was to get out that window, which I might say I did in RECORD time, and run, and hope that when I got there everyone was still alive…

The first thing I noticed on my rush to the gym was the amount of people going the opposite way. Something was going down. I'm not a religious man, but now seemed like as good a time as any to start praying that I wasn't too late. By the time I got there, it was empty except for four people. Coach Bolton was down, he'd taken a blow, but he wasn't bleeding. His son Troy was doing his best to carry him up the stairs. Chad Danforth was doing his best impersonation of lightning, using all the skills a basketball player learns, weaving and whatnot. It appeared all three of them were trying to avoid the giant fourth person in the room, swinging what appeared to be a giant warhammer. You would think that it was the size that gave it away for me, but really it was the costume. A giant suit of amour. There was only one person in school who even owned a suit of amour.

"Cyndra!" I called, a pathetic attempt to distract the monolith. Luckily it worked, he turned around and directly confronted me. "Be gone minstrel," he growled, "or feel the sting of my hammer! Azale will smite you!"

Ok, he had officially lost it. I had one chance, I was going to keep him talking.

"Azale isn't coming Cyndra," I said as calmly as I could muster, "he's not real…"

"Blasphemer! YOU will be punished. YOU WILL ALL BE PUNISHED" Chad, although tired slowly got to his feet

"even if he was real," humour him Ripper, give them some time… "the ritual was wrong! I didn't kill anybody!"

"You didn't have to!" he squealed as Chad took a step backwards, "The god has seen what it wanted, thanks to me!"

"Cyndra, you killed three people, didn't you" Whenever you're ready Chad… any time now would be great…

"All meaningless deaths," he retorted, "Once I have defeated the beast, I will use his power to bring them back!" Finally Chad looked ready…

"Well, I hope you can stop the beast better than you stop a running basketball player," it sounded a lot wittier in my head

"What are you…" was all he got out before Danforth let out a tackle the likes of which I have never seen. It only took a few fractions of a second, but it seemed like a slow motion movie scene. Chad had aimed perfectly, taking out Cyndra's right knee, which brought him down like a tonne of bricks. Bolton ran down and helped Chad hold him down while I put in a call to Taylor, who showed up almost instantly and did her police woman thing. Once Cindra was safely restrained, I checked that message that had given me away… Mongo.

"and you were so close too," I said. What can I say, I love the Batman act. It scared Darbus and that was exactly what I wanted.

"what are you talking about?"

"don't play dumb Darbus. Eventually McKessie would have figured out Cindra killed Sharpay and Kelsey, she probably even would have figured out that Montez was poisoned by him too, but no, she needed me to lead me to you."

She started to sweat. I pressed on.

"So, here's what I think you did. You saw Kelsey's idea for the play. The thing about the greedy knight challenging the beast, then you convinced poor Cyndra that is was true, and that he could have power beyond anything he'd ever hope for, but first he'd have to do some killings."

"That is ridiculous," Darbus protested "Why would I want anybody dead?"

"Well," I began, "there were the obscene photos on Sharpay's phone, nobody would like them leaked, which I'm guessing the poor Miss Evans Threatened to do. There was a copy on Kelsey's laptop, so we can assume she knew and would release them should anything happen to Sharpay."

"Wha.. What about Gabriella? Why would I want her dead?"

"My guess is a distraction. Making it look like Coach Bolton, make it about money, hell it even fooled me!"
"Interesting theory Ripper. What proof do you have?"

"Oh well, see this was your biggest mistake throughout the whole thing. I mean seriously. Selling the scarf to Mongo? You should have known someone was gonna find it and trace it back to you…"

click so that's what a revolver cocking really sounds like

"Dammit Ripper," the teacher sighed; "now I have to shoot you. You should have let it be, but no! You had to 'investigate' and 'clear your name', well I hope your name is clear enough now!"
"You can't be serious," I bluffed, "you are gonna shoot me? I mean you had Sharpay strangled, Gabriella poisoned, you threw Kelsey off a building and all you are gonna do is shoot me?"

She thought for the briefest of moments…

"Yes"

The cold steel rose from her side towards my heart. They say that when you are about to die the best moments of your life flash before your eyes. All I saw was a bright flash. A bright flash coming from behind me. It was about time too. Even though it was late, it did stun my would-be attacker long enough for me to grab her arm and twist it behind her back.

"We'll take it from here," said a voice from in front of the doorway, "good work Ripper"

"No problem Taylor"

As I walked away all I heard was Taylor reading Darbus her rights. I thanked Martha for coming with that camera, even if she was a little late, and headed down the hall. On my way to the music room both Zeke and Ryan thanked me for saving their behinds. I told them it was nothing. The Boltons thanked me as well, even Chad said I kind word, and I didn't care. People died. I wasn't in a celebratory mood. Kratnoff mentioned, when I stopped by, that he thought I had done well saving lives and bringing the killer to justice, but I tuned most of it out. All I wanted was to be alone, with my cello, and the last piece of music that Kelsey had written for me.

For a tune in G major it certainly seemed much less happy this time….