Chapter 25
Fornell sat back and considered the man sitting in front of him. It was no wonder that BPD hadn't been enthused about trying to investigate this. Tim, for all that he was earnest and clear, still had an air of...a disturbed mind about him. He wasn't firing on all cylinders just yet and it showed. To Fornell, who at least knew him a little bit, that was simply an indication that he'd been going through a lot the last few days and was having a hard time recovering. To strangers, it made Tim look unhinged...and not a reliable witness.
"Well?" Tim asked.
Fornell tried to decide just how delicately he needed to speak.
"Well, what?"
Tim sighed and shook his head. "I know it's not much to go on."
"No, it's not. We may not be able to find anything, McGee."
"I know. It's been a long time and I can't give you the kind of details that would make your job easier. What are you going to do?" There was a faint air of challenge in the question.
Fornell smiled. "We're going to investigate, of course. I just can't guarantee anything."
Tim smiled in return. "I don't expect guarantees. I just want to know if it's possible to find who killed my parents. If it's not possible, fine. ...but I'd like to know, not just have to live with the possibility."
"As long as we're on the same page."
"We're not," Tim said, bluntly. "This can't mean to you what it means to me. ...but if you'll try, that's all I ask."
"We'll try, McGee. I'm not in the habit of making promises that don't mean anything."
Tim nodded. "Is that everything you need from me?"
"Yes. If we have more questions, we'll call."
Tim stood up. "Thank you, Agent Fornell. Believe it or not, I really do appreciate what you're doing. You don't have to and I appreciate that you are."
There was something in the way Tim was standing, in his eyes, that made Fornell wonder just how well he was holding himself together. He seemed eager to leave, to get away from them...and he saw no reason to try and keep Tim there any longer.
"My pleasure, Agent McGee. We'll keep you informed."
Tim nodded and hurried out. Sacks walked over and sat in Tim's vacated chair.
"So?"
"So what?"
"What are we doing, Fornell?"
"We're going to Baltimore. What do you think?"
"You really think we'll find anything?"
"Won't know until we look...tomorrow."
Sacks rolled his eyes but stood to go. "What about the case file from Baltimore?"
Fornell looked over at his other team member, a recent addition. "Hales!"
"Yes, sir?"
"There's a case file on its way here courtesy of Agent Gibbs from NCIS. When it gets here, I want you to go through it with a fine-tooth comb. Call if you find anything of note."
"Yes, sir!"
Fornell suppressed a grimace and walked out.
"I'll be glad when she stops almost saluting," he grumbled.
"Ah, I'll bet you really like it," Sacks said with a grin.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
One day later...
"Wow. These private schools really have the money," Fornell remarked as he and Sacks got out of the car at the John P. Kennedy Academy. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised with a Kennedy as the namesake."
"I went to a place like this," Sacks said. "Not quite so ritzy, but a private school."
"Really?"
"Hard to believe, huh?" Sacks asked, smiling.
"And you turned out all right. Go figure."
"Not everyone who goes to private school turns psycho, Fornell. We weren't all privileged idiots."
"Really?"
Sacks rolled his eyes and stepped inside. They headed for the main office. The woman in behind the counter looked up with a smile as they came in.
"Hello, welcome to Kennedy A. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Agent Fornell and this is Agent Sacks. FBI," Fornell said, pulling out his badge.
The friendly smile faded and became concern. "Oh. What is the FBI doing here? Something happened to one of the students?"
Fornell smiled. "No. This is actually about a cold case we're investigating. Do you have anyone on staff who was working here twenty-three years ago?"
"Twenty-three years? Wow. I was twelve. Ummm...Yes. Yes, there are a couple of teachers who have been here that long. I haven't...obviously." She smiled. "Mr. Larsen...and...and... Mr. Jerkins. They've been here for ages. The head of the school, Jackson Keys, just retired last year, but he'd been here for...forever."
"Where are Mr. Larsen and Mr. Jerkins?"
"They're both on the main floor. Just down the hall and the last two doors before you get to the exit. Mr. Larsen is on the left. Mr. Jerkins is on the right. May I ask what the case is?"
"Murder of one of the teachers who worked here."
"Oh. Levi McGee?"
"Now, how did you know that?"
She smiled and pointed behind them, out into the hallway.
"I see him every morning when I come in to work."
Fornell and Sacks turned around in surprise and noticed the memorial plaque they'd bypassed on their first entrance.
In memory of Levi McGee, a dedicated teacher
(Plaque made by the shop class of 1987)
There was a picture of a man who bore a strong resemblance to Tim, gesticulating wildly, standing on his desk. The students around him were all laughing and clapping their hands.
"That's him?"
"I'm told he got really excited about his subject matter."
"What did he teach?"
"Math."
"Wow. He's a math teacher?"
"Yeah. None of my math teachers ever got that excited."
"Nor mine," Sacks said.
"I asked what he was teaching that day. They said that it was his trig class. Sines, cosines..." She shrugged. "I don't know. He loved it."
"I guess so. Down the hall?"
"Yeah. They told me that no one ever found out who killed him and his wife. You know?"
"We're looking into it."
"Wow. I hope you do."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony sighed and stared at the screen with Hank Peterson's name. He wished he knew what to say about all this...but he didn't.
"So..." Abby took a breath and began. "...I looked through Peterson's...Shands'...Peterson's...what am I supposed to call him?"
"Just finish, Abbs," Gibbs said.
"Peter...Shands's computer and I found some things in it...and...he was...writing a book. It looks like every case he picked was a case where there was an instantly guilty-looking party and then the police backed off. Every one. And...I don't know why he picked Tim...unless he decided that he was too happy. I looked up some of the other suspects and most of them are just run-of-the-mill stuff. Tim wrote a book. He was successful and happy and...and maybe that just wasn't right to Shands. I don't know. He didn't say."
"And about seven different people said they saw him in Quantico," Tony said.
"His fingerprints are at the scene," Ziva added. "It does not seem to be likely that this is all a coincidence...and his obsession with McGee would seem to be the link between the Campbells and Shands. Why he chose them...I do not know, but if he was willing to kill, he was going to choose somebody."
"So...now what? What do we tell Tim?" Abby asked.
"The truth," Gibbs said. "It looks like Shands killed the Campbells and he had started off writing a real book."
"And what will that mean to him?"
"Who knows?" Tony said. "But trying to lie won't help."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Man, there's something about a closed classroom door. It makes me feel like I've done something wrong," Sacks said.
"Guilty conscience?"
"Maybe."
"I thought you were a good student."
"I never said that. I just said I wasn't a privileged idiot." He knocked.
"Come in!"
The two agents came into a classroom that had murals on every bare inch of wall space. The walls that weren't covered in murals were covered by bookshelves. This was clearly the classroom of long-time resident. The resident in question was sitting at a desk that was aggressively organized but almost buried beneath piles of paper. Mr. Larsen himself was completely bald and rather on the rotund side. His tie was an offensive combination of neon colors that would either grab your attention or make you close your eyes in horror.
"Yes? What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Larsen?"
"That's the name on my door. You guys cops?"
"FBI."
Mr. Larsen's eyes widened in appreciation but twinkled. "Wow. FBI coming to talk to me? What have I done? I thought I'd been toeing the line pretty well. I even pay my parking tickets...which, incidentally, are cheaper than parking costs in some places."
Fornell laughed. "I'm Agent Fornell. We're investigating a cold case involving a former member of the faculty here."
"Levi?" he asked. "Oh, don't bother acting coy. He's the only faculty member I can think of...and if you're talking to me, it must be something a while ago."
"That's right. I'm Agent Sacks."
"Well, have a seat, gentlemen. What can I do for you that I didn't do for the police twenty years ago?"
"We'd like to ask you about some of your students, if you can remember them."
Mr. Larsen bristled slightly. "Pardon me, but even if I'm older than you, Agent Sacks, I'd be willing to bet that I only have a year or two on your partner here. If I was having memory problems, I'd be out the door. Students take advantage of weakness. That's why I don't do drama anymore. I don't have the stamina to run around, shouting at kids who think it's cool to climb on the scaffold."
"No offense. You must have had a lot of students over the years."
"If you have students in mind, I'm guessing that they must have been significant in some way."
"It's possible."
"Well, Gary...Jerkins, he's been here a couple of years longer than I have. In fact, he's retiring soon. What I may not remember, he probably will. He's our crazy chemistry teacher."
"We were going to talk to him, too."
"Might as well get the two old geezers at once, right?"
Fornell smiled. "If you'd prefer it."
No matter what he said, Mr. Larsen showed no sign of physical debility as he got up and walked to the hallway...and shouted.
"Gary!"
A fainter shout in reply. "What?"
"Get over here! We need some twenty-year-old gossip!"
"On my way!"
Mr. Larsen walked back to his desk and sat down. It took only seconds for Mr. Jerkins to join them. He was slightly bent, but still taller than both FBI agents, skinny...and he had a hairstyle that would have made Einstein green with envy. Where Mr. Larsen was colorful, Mr. Jerkins was gray, from his wild hair to his tie to his pants to his shoes.
"Gossip? About what?"
"Students."
"Oh...I thought it was going to be interesting. What is it?"
"Oh, this is interesting. These two FBI agents..."
Mr. Jerkins was suddenly interested. "FBI? Wow."
"They're looking at Levi's murder."
"Wow," he said again in a different tone. "Why now?"
"New information has come to light."
"You don't want to say. Okay. I can play. Why students? And which ones?"
Mr. Jerkins grabbed a chair and sat down, facing them.
"Ask away," he said with a smile.
"Thank you," Fornell said, interested in these two rather eccentric teachers. He rather thought he would have enjoyed having them in school. "We don't have the names of the students, but we know at least one incident that you might know about."
"Okay. What happened?"
"Apparently a group of kids were caught skinning live squirrels...and they were caught by Levi McGee."
Both Mr. Jerkins and Mr. Larsen leaned back, looked at each other and then nodded.
"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," Mr. Larsen said. "I don't think I'd ever seen Levi so angry as he was at that circus."
Mr. Jerkins laughed. "I thought he was going to punch out Jackson...and he probably deserved it. If it had happened ten years later, Jackson would have been experienced enough not to let the parents get to him...but he was still pretty new to the job at the time...and he caved so deep spelunkers couldn't have found him."
"So...you know what students we're talking about?"
"Oh, I know. ...and I know the incident you're asking about it. The squirrels weren't the half of it. They were just the obvious evidence."
Now thoroughly intrigued, Fornell leaned forward. "So what happened?"
It was clear that Mr. Larsen loved to tell stories and he was more than willing to relate what he knew. "Those three punks. They were juniors but they acted like they were kings...and not the lovely benevolent kings. We're talking Caligula, Vlad the Impaler and Ivan the Terrible. ...or they would have been if they could have been. I had no idea what they'd been doing before Levi caught them at it. If ever corporal punishment should have been reinstated."
"What did they do?" Sacks asked, surprised at the fire expressed after so long.
Mr. Jerkins answered. "They used the squirrels to bully other kids. I'm not talking about some light teasing or even the wedgies and more mild things like that. We try to stop them when they happen, but this was on another level entirely. They'd catch the squirrels, pick out their target and then take them out behind the school and skin the squirrels while telling the kid that's what they were going to do to them if they didn't do exactly what they were told. They threatened bodily harm in order to force other students to do humiliating things."
"And we're fairly sure that they actually were violent although we never did get evidence of that," Mr. Larsen said. "The students in question wouldn't admit to it. They were unholy terrors on the school...and it's a black mark on the faculty that we never realized how far it went. It was only luck that Levi saw it. The student they were threatening that day was supposed to be taking a makeup test after school. He saw the whole thing."
"And I saw him lose it," Mr. Jerkins said, taking up the story again. "I think he cowed those boys just because they'd never seen him angry before. Levi had a temper but he never showed it to the students. Even in faculty meetings, he only showed his frustration if something utterly ridiculous was being discussed. Very black-and-white sense of right and wrong...and occasionally, his tact muscles would seize up and he'd unleash a very wicked tongue."
"He was violent?" Fornell asked, surprised that Tim's dad might be so different from the agent he knew.
"No! Absolutely not! You're getting the wrong idea. He wasn't violent...but he had a pair of lungs and the vocabulary to match. I always thought that if he hadn't decided to be a teacher he would have made a great drill sergeant."
"So what happened? I'm guessing from what you said before that they didn't get a good enough punishment for Levi McGee."
"They didn't get any punishment," Mr. Larsen said with disgust. "Levi hauled them in to Jackson's office and made them sit there while he said what he'd seen. He even brought the squirrels with him. No one could accuse him of being squeamish. But from what Levi said, those boys were better actors in that office than they ever were in drama. Levi's shouting could be heard almost anywhere in the building. I'm surprised he didn't get fired."
"And the end result of it was that they were told that if they transferred immediately to another school that there would be nothing in their records," Mr. Jerkins finished.
"What?" Sacks asked, appalled.
"Yeah, that's pretty much my reaction. Levi's was much worse. Jackson's justification was that they were just kids and kids did stupid things sometimes. Levi wanted to report them to the police, but he was forced to keep his mouth shut."
"And you never told the police about this after Levi was killed?"
"Wait," Mr. Jerkins said, leaning forward. "Are you implying that you think it was these students who–? I read what the bodies were like. It's a long leap from squirrels to people."
"We have a lead and we need to look into it. Can you tell me the names of these students?"
Mr. Larsen nodded. "Yeah, I can. One of them won't do you any good, though."
"Why not?"
"Because one of the trio, Ryan Duvall, committed suicide just before he graduated. It was in the news."
"Really? Ryan?"
"Yes. Ryan Duvall. If you ask me, he was the one most likely to do something stupid, but the least likely to come up with it himself."
"The other two?"
"David Whesler and Lawrence Rivers. I couldn't tell you what they're doing, though. Nothing newsworthy."
"That's all right. We'll find out."
Mr. Larsen smiled. "You're the FBI. I'm sure you will. Any more questions?"
"Do you know whether or not those three students took it well? Being transferred?"
Mr. Jerkins just shrugged. "It happened really fast. They were gone by the next school day. So I have no idea. They never came back to my knowledge."
"What about their victim?" Fornell asked.
"He was a whole lot happier with them gone. He must have been a regular of theirs, but he didn't ever say anything."
"Thanks for your information."
"More excitement than we old geezers have had for a while."
Fornell chuckled and stood up. He shook their hands and then he and Sacks walked out of the building.
"Now what?" Sacks asked. "One is dead? The other two? We can track them down, and there's certainly something that went on...but what evidence do we have that they're guilty? No fingerprints, no witnesses besides McGee."
"One step at a time, Sacks. Let's take a few more."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Two days later...
"Dr. Michaels, Code Blue. Room 215. Code Blue, Room 215."