Chapter 92 #2
Santopietro introduced the man with him as Patrick Elgot, who taught phys ed and a few other subjects that washed over me without leaving a trace.
Elgot said hello but didn’t hang around.
Renders, by contrast, gave every indication of wanting to remain, but Santopietro told him that he’d take things from here.
We watched Renders retrieve his briefcase and walk to one of the cabins.
It wasn’t much of a show, but it was all there was.
“Were you and Mr Renders arguing?” Santopietro asked. “You gave that impression.”
“A difference of opinion.”
“On what?”
“On whether I should be here,” I replied, “and on what more might have been done to prevent Scott Theriault’s death.”
“It’s been very difficult for us all, staff and students alike.” Then: “Are you recording this conversation, Mr Parker?”
I showed him my phone so he could see I was not.
“We’ve taken legal advice, obviously. We have to protect ourselves, and the school.”
“Neither Mr Vose nor his lawyer has given me any indication that they’re contemplating suing.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Santopietro.
“However, it pays to err on the side of caution. As for Scott’s death, I will say only that the loss of any child is appalling, and we should have done better by him—would have done better, given time, but that was denied us.
Scott did not want to be here, and short of physically restraining him, which was not an option, we could not prevent him from trying to leave.
This is a school, not a prison camp. To prove it, I’d like to show you around, if you’re willing. ”
I told him I’d be happy to take a tour, and over the next half hour Santopietro guided me through a pair of classrooms, a small but well-equipped science lab, and a gym marked out as a basketball court with some benches and free weights at one end, the weights either very well used by the students or acquired after heavy use by others.
In the kitchen, two women prepared pasta and Bolognese sauce for the evening meal, and I smelled cookies baking.
In the dorms, boys sat around in groups or on their beds, most staring at phones or screens.
One or two of them acknowledged us, but only briefly. We were of little interest.
“Do they have internet access?” I asked.
“Only after the first two weeks, if they behave: one hour a day, in the afternoon, and longer on weekends. But the content is restricted, and the phones and tablets, which are school devices, can be taken from them if they misbehave. Of course, they can ask to borrow someone else’s device, but if you have only an hour’s screen time, you may be reluctant to share. ”
“And they can call anyone?”
“Each student has five contacts,” said Santopietro, “agreed in advance with the school. If they want to call anyone else, they have to ask permission to use a school phone.”
We left the students to their screens and walked to the back of the main building, where there was a football field, a track, and a large section of furrowed ground, cordoned off with rope.
The smell of compost came from the rows.
Next to them was a trio of high tunnels for growing plants, a greenhouse, and a toolshed with its door standing open.
A long line of plastic milk jugs by the greenhouse had been filled with earth in preparation for winter sowing.
This was how one cultivated produce in a state that could be fierce with cold.
“We try to produce as much of our own food as we can,” said Santopietro.
“We have spinach, lettuce, and kale planted, some cabbage and broccoli too, and we’re hopeful for carrots and beets.
We’re also overwintering scallions and leeks.
The greenhouse is mostly herbs. We grow enough to supply some of the local stores, and a few restaurants in Madison and Skowhegan.
We encourage the boys to get involved, and they share in the proceeds of what we sell.
It supplements their pocket money and aids their personal development.
They can also earn extra cash by taking on chores, like painting and maintenance, even cooking if they’re interested enough. ”
“I thought a lot of them came from wealthy families,” I said. “Is pocket money an issue?”
“Comfortable,” Santopietro corrected, “not wealthy, or not all, but the well-off can be funnier about money than the poor. We don’t want competition or envy among the students, so each boy receives an appropriate amount weekly, based on age.
I know it may not look like it from the outside, especially to you, but everything we do, we do with the welfare of the students in mind. ”
“And to make a profit?”
“Less of one than you might think, but yes. We don’t take state funding, so if we start losing money, the school will close.
I don’t want that to happen, for professional and personal reasons.
This industry has an unfortunate reputation, some of it deserved.
There are bad actors out there, but we’re not among them.
So far, we’re in the black, and I plan to use those profits to expand the facility.
Over the next five to ten years, I intend to double our intake, hire a full-time therapist, and expand the curriculum. ”
I watched six teenagers take a soccer ball onto the playing field and begin passing it between them.
“How many of those kids are here for the long haul?”
“If you mean for a full academic year,” said Santopietro, “probably a quarter. The rest vary, but our minimum period of residence is a month. If they’re flirting with rebellion, that’s typically long enough for them to see the error of their ways.
As for the more recalcitrant, we make it plain that, if they fail here, the next step down can be a steep one.
The first thing we do when they arrive is show them a film of what the alternatives may involve.
Nobody here has their head forcibly shaved, or is punished with severe physical labor or weeks of mandated silence for breaches of discipline.
We have to remind them of how lucky they are. ”
I walked the cordon of the farm, Santopietro following a short distance behind.
I looked at the wooded hills and thought of Scott Theriault’s final moments, when he realized too late the mistake he’d made.
I thought of Mallory Norton and the conversation with her parents that lay ahead of me.
I fought the urge to retreat south to the safety of Portland, leaving Ward Vose to his guilt and the Nortons to their pain.
I glanced into the toolshed, because that was rule number one in the private investigator’s handbook: If a door is open, look inside; if a door is closed, open it, then look inside.
It worked on both a literal and metaphorical level, as long as you accepted that most of the time, the door, actual or otherwise, would be closed to you.
Things worth knowing, meaning anything that someone didn’t want you to know, were often hidden.
Sometimes, though, they were hidden in plain sight.
“Tim Sadlier, our custodian and groundsman, works out of that shed,” said Santopietro. “It’s his den. He’s running errands at the moment, otherwise you’d have met him.”
The shed contained an old kitchen chair with a pair of plump cushions for comfort. An upturned bucket served as a side table, topped by a dirty mug and an empty candy bar wrapper. The rest was gardening equipment and supplies: pots, compost—
And seeds, the bags marked with the name and logo of the supplier: the Smiling Seed Company of Orono, Maine.
“You were at élan,” I said to Santopietro.
“I was. Whatever you’ve heard about it, however unbelievable, may be true.”
“My lawyer was there.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Moxie Castin.”
“I don’t remember him,” said Santopietro, “but there were multiple campuses, and it might have been before or after my time. Does he also represent Ward Vose?”
“No, that’s another lawyer. I meet a lot of lawyers. It’s an occupational hazard.” I took a last look at the shed, but I’d seen what I needed to see. “Tell me about Roger Teal, Mr Santopietro.”
“You’ve met him. I’m sure he was able to speak for himself.”
“He was. I just didn’t believe everything he told me. Why does he remain in touch with this school?”
“He believes in our mission.”
“Which part, exactly?”
“All of it.”
“See, that’s what I didn’t believe. He participates in your nocturnal raids, doesn’t he? He abducts terrified boys from their homes.”
“That’s a very pejorative interpretation,” said Santopietro.
“It’s an unpleasant component of our work, one that we activate only in extremis.
Very few students come here willingly, but the really disturbed ones, those whose parents are living in fear, have to be brought to Spero under duress, or in restraints.
We take them at night, when they’re tired and disoriented, because it minimizes the potential physical harm to everyone involved.
Nevertheless, it’s very traumatic for the boy—and the team members involved. ”
“I hear what you’re saying,” I replied, “but why would someone take on that job unless they were being paid? Even then, it would stain the soul. It would certainly stain mine. But then, I wouldn’t agree to do it for any amount of money, and I surely wouldn’t do it for free. Yet Roger Teal volunteers.”
“That doesn’t mean he enjoys it,” said Santopietro.
“Doesn’t it? Presumably, there are other ways he could make himself useful here, ones that don’t involve brutalizing teenage boys.”
“Again, ‘brutalizing’ isn’t the word I’d use.”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” I said. “It would look bad on the prospectus. But is what you and Teal are doing to these boys any less worthy of censure than what was done to you at élan?”
“I decline to submit to your judgment, Mr Parker.”
“Teal said something along the same lines.”
“Can you blame him?”
“I can try,” I said. I pointed toward the dormitories. “With your permission, I’d like to speak with any of your students who might have been friendly with Scott Theriault.”
“I can’t allow that.”
“Why not?”
“It would require parental consent,” said Santopietro, “which I’m not about to seek because I know it would be refused. Even if I anticipated a different outcome, an interrogation by a private investigator might be confusing and distressing for the boys.”
“What do you think I’m going to ask them: Whether they killed Scott, or know who did?”
“Scott had an accident in the woods. He broke his leg, fell into a river, and drowned.”
“Okay, so I won’t ask them that. Actually, I was going to ask them whether Scott might secretly have been seeing a girl, someone from Bingham.”
Santopietro went very still.
“Which girl might you be referring to?”
“Mallory Norton,” I said.
“You really are intent on stirring up trouble for its own sake, aren’t you? Scott Theriault wasn’t seeing any girl. How could he? He wasn’t even allowed into town for the bulk of his time here because of all the rules he broke.”
“She could have traveled up here to meet him. He didn’t have to cycle to Bingham or hitch a ride down.”
“But she didn’t.”
“How do you know? Teenagers are cunning, and you and your staff have to sleep sometime.”
“This is speculation,” said Santopietro. “You have no proof.”
“If there’s proof, I’ll find it,” I said. “It’s what I do, and I’m very good at it. Anyway, I’m starting to like it up here. The fresh air agrees with me.”
I rubbed my hand along the wood frame of the toolshed, my fingertips following the grain.
“Who else volunteers to snatch children for you, Mr Santopietro?”
“It’s time you were going,” he said. “I have work to do.”
I didn’t move.
“You establish a school way up on a remote plantation, where even the law is nebulous,” I said.
“Anyone might think you didn’t want to be noticed.
You want to expand your operation, yet you elected to cease drawing state funding.
Declining it gave you independence, but it also meant you could go about your ‘mission’ without having to worry about supervision by the department.
Again, there you go, hiding your light under a bushel.
But at the same time, the original department supervisor, Roger Teal, chooses to volunteer his services out of the goodness of his heart. ”
“I don’t care for your tone,” said Santopietro.
“And I don’t care for your school.”
Santopietro took out his phone.
“If you don’t leave in the next sixty seconds,” he said, “I’ll call nine-one-one to inform them that we have a trespasser on the property and I’m anxious for the safety of my students and staff.
I’ll tell them that, due to the intruder’s profession, I have reason to believe he might have brought a firearm onto the campus in breach of the law.
I’ll advise them that I have locked down the students in light of the threat posed by this man. ”
As it happened, I’d left my gun in the car and parked outside precisely because I’d be entering a school, but an arriving state trooper or county deputy wouldn’t know that.
At best, I’d end up doing a lot of explaining; at worst, I could get shot.
Somewhere in the middle lay the prospect of enjoying the comforts of a cell in Madison or Skowhegan.
I raised my hands in acquiescence and walked away.
Santopietro stayed with me as far as the main building, where he remained with his cell phone at the ready.
Over by the cabins, Renders leaned against the frame of an open door, his arms folded against his chest.
My grandfather—who, like the best of older people, was really a younger person in disguise—taught me a skill he said would prove useful in later life, regardless of the path I chose.
Here’s how you start: You walk into a new room and take time to notice five qualities about it.
After a week, or two weeks, you make it six, then seven.
Soon, it’s second nature to you. On one level, it’s a useful way of grounding yourself in the moment, because we live in a world predicated on distraction.
But if your job is also dependent on spotting what’s missing, or what doesn’t belong, the ability to take in with one glance a room, a house, a property, or a person, becomes essential.
With practice, the dissonances you pick up may no longer even be physical because you’ve adapted to wrongness in all its forms.
I hadn’t learned much from my visit to the Spero, but I’d learned enough: The school couldn’t have been further out of plumb if it stood on one side, and that went double for Santopietro and Renders.
Here were subtle men.