Private Killer Read online

  Once she’d washed and dried her hands, she brought me back to the table and showed me the pages from her notebook. Seems like death threats weren’t the only thing someone had put on them. Luckily, Casey hadn’t touched them earlier, and he’d been able to keep people away from the table until we returned, so Destiny was the only one who’d been injured.

  Destiny was certain Mill was the person responsible, but neither she nor Casey had seen him near her bag all day. I managed to steal one of the pages for analysis before Casey wrapped them all up in a spare shirt he had. He put them at the bottom of one of the dumpsters outside the building.

  I tried to convince Destiny to tell her father what had happened, but she wouldn’t go for it. “He won’t believe me anyway,” she said. “Besides, Mill’s been like this ever since I dumped him. I’ll get back at him myself.” With that, she left the library.

  JOE

  9

  The Brothers of Erebus

  Getting information about the Brothers of Erebus was harder than trying to find out what embarrassing surprise my parents had planned for my birthday this year. If people knew anything, they weren’t talking. And if they were willing to talk, they didn’t know anything.

  I’d nosed around the other staff, but most of them assumed I was talking about some comic book, or a new superhero movie. Mention of a secret society got me slightly more information—they all seemed to agree that there was some “inner core” to Gamma Theta Theta, but no one had any more information than that. Any group that managed to hide itself from even the cleaning staff was pretty good at keeping a secret.

  I sent a text message to ATAC headquarters, hoping they’d turned up something from their database by now. They kept tabs on secret societies and criminal groups of all kinds, from the Illuminati to the Mafia. If the Brothers of Erebus were actually something dangerous, I would have thought for sure ATAC would have some intel on them—but it wasn’t like them to take so long in getting back if they had any info to share.

  We were also still waiting for the results on the poison-laced paper that Frank had taken from the library. We’d put a tiny square of it into JuDGE for analysis.

  The big game was just two days away. Tomorrow was the kick off of the Benevolence Day weekend. If Frank overheard them correctly, the Brothers of Erebus were planning something, and we needed to have some idea of what it was if we were to protect Destiny. So far, we were zero for three on the pranks against her.

  Someone has it out for Destiny. But who? She definitely hasn’t made any friends on campus, other than Casey it seemed. But whoever did this had to be able to get pretty close to her, in order to get into her notebook to drug it. Mill disliked her because of their history. The members of Gamma Theta Theta have definitely pulled some pranks on her in the past, and the Brothers of Erebus seem linked to GTT . . . somehow.

  I was supposed to meet Frank—for once, without Killer—to go to talk to Dr. Montgomery. As the former headmaster (and like, a truly, really old guy), we thought he might have some information about the Brothers of Erebus. Plus, there was still the whole matter of the “meeting” he had called to discuss admissions. It seemed aimed at Destiny, and scholarship students like Lee, and it made Dr. Darity pretty angry, so there was a chance it could be mixed up in all of this too.

  Right as I was about to walk out the door, my laptop beeped. It was a message from ATAC! Destiny’s notebook was laced with essence of capsicum—the same oil that made hot peppers hot. Not deadly, but definitely not pleasant. Sadly, it was easy to make. Anyone could go to a grocery store and get the raw materials. Worse, ATAC confirmed that they had no information on the Brothers of Erebus. But they did include one thing, an entry from an encyclopedia of mythology.

  EREBUS: From the ancient Greek,

  meaning darkness or shadow. In Greek

  mythology, Erebus was the child of Chaos,

  and the living embodiment of darkness.

  He was associated with the underworld,

  Hades, and death.

  “Great,” I said out loud. Were we dealing with some sort of death cult? Revenge, jealousy, anger, money—I could understand all of these motives. But scary cults just creeped me out. Wait till I told Frank about it. He’d probably want to go learn Ancient Greek as a first step to our investigation.

  “You know,” said Frank, “it could be pretty helpful if one of us knew some Greek. Just in case. They might conduct their rituals in Greek. Or pass hidden notes in Greek. I wonder if there’s a Greek class at Firth?”

  I groaned. I knew he’d go there.

  We were walking across campus toward the Cottage, which is what they called the retired headmaster’s house. All around us were signs of people gearing up for the Benevolence Weekend. Someone had built a giant papier-mâché replica of Killer, and posted it on the main quad chasing a much smaller version of the Blair School mascot, a Bengal tiger. There were banners hanging from all the dorms that read “Go Killers!” and “Defeat Blair!” Seems like they took this rivalry pretty seriously.

  Outside the student center, preparations of another kind were in full swing. All the windows were being washed, and a number of fancy tables were being set up for the big dinner. The pathway had been lined with dozens of four-foot-tall torches. They didn’t look anything like the one I had seen in Spencer’s bag, but they still gave me a chill. Someone out there had their own plans for this weekend, and I had a feeling the preparations were a lot more dangerous.

  Finally, we reached the rectory. Mrs. Wilson, Dr. Montgomery’s housekeeper, was scrubbing the outside walls of the house. It looked as though someone had spray painted graffiti all over them. Mrs. Wilson had cleaned off the majority of it, though, so I couldn’t tell what it had said.

  “Hello, Mrs. Wilson,” I said. She didn’t even turn to look at Frank or me. She just kept right on working. She sniffed audibly as we went by. She was one of the few members on the staff who had never been friendly toward me. She didn’t even eat with the rest of us, preferring to eat with Dr. Montgomery or find a table on her own if she had to eat in the cafeteria. I could only imagine how much fun it must have been to have her around twenty-four-seven. Dr. Montgomery was one lucky guy . . . not!

  I slipped past her and knocked on the front door. It opened a few seconds later.

  “Hello boys,” said Dr. Montgomery. “Please do come in.”

  He pointed toward a small living room at the front of the house, and Frank and I walked in. It was dimly lit, and everything had an old, antique—but very clean—feel to it. It was obvious that Mrs. Wilson took her job seriously. Dr. Montgomery limped along slowly behind us.

  “What brings you here today?” he asked, settling into a chair and gesturing for us to have a seat.

  “I was doing some research on Firth history, for a project,” said Frank. “And I was wondering if you could help me out?”

  This was the cover story we had come up with—Frank was doing a history project, and I was simply interested in learning more about the school I was working for. It wasn’t our best, but we didn’t have a lot of time to make it up.

  “Really?” said Dr. Montgomery. “How wonderful. I always hope our new students will take more of an interest in the history of the school. What class did you say this was for?”

  “History,” said Frank.

  “Of course. And you would be a junior?”

  Frank nodded. He looked worried.

  “That’s quite interesting. I wouldn’t have imagined that Mr. Martinelli would allow a paper on Firth for his juniors, considering that the class is on European history.”

  “I’m doing it as extra credit.” Frank didn’t even bat an eye. Every adult in the world looked at Frank and saw a perfect golden child, which made it all the easier for him to be a great liar.

  “What happened outside?” I asked, deciding that he might need some help.

  “Oh.” Dr. Montgomery’s face darkened. “Some student vandals, I’m sure. Ruffians.”

&nb
sp; Wow, I thought. Who says “ruffians” anymore?

  “Not to worry though,” continued Dr. Montgomery. “The indefatigable Mrs. Wilson will conquer the forces of mess once again. The meeting will go on.”

  “Right,” said Frank. “That meeting. I heard you announce it the other day. What’s it all about?”

  “The Willis Firth Academy is a renowned institution, as I am sure you are both aware.”

  He paused, waiting for some answer. Frank and I quickly nodded.

  “During my tenure as headmaster,” he continued, “I saw an unprecedented growth in the student population—all good students, from good families.”

  Another pause.

  “That’s what we hear,” I said.

  “You see, the job of headmaster at Firth is a serious task—there is responsibility to uphold, reputation to maintain.” He smiled, as though he were thinking of fond memories. “In my fifth decade of headmastership, the board of trustees agreed that it might be best if I stepped down to allow another highly qualified candidate to take over the reverent position.”

  “Dr. Darity, you mean?”

  “Yes, Dr. Darity. Darity never did attend Firth,” Montgomery said through his teeth. He brushed invisible crumbs from his lapels. “But I respect the trustees of this school and know that they are doing their best to put Firth first. If Dr. Darity felt as though he were the best candidate for the job, I trusted them.”

  Frank eyed me suspiciously. We’d both noticed the past tense usage of the word “trust.”

  “My views and policies have made me enemies before, but we must maintain our standards, boys. Besides, if my enemies are the sort of cowards who would destroy a man’s home rather than debate him in public, it merely shows the virtue of my cause. Am I correct or am I not?”

  “What kind of views have been disputed to the point of making enemies?” Frank asked, expertly avoiding Dr. Montgomery’s clearly rhetorical question.

  “Oh, the age-old debates. Monetary requirements and the like. High standards is all it is.”

  “So you don’t think the school should take scholarship students?” I asked. “But isn’t Lee one of the best students at Firth right now? Star soccer player, great grades—”

  “Clearly, you boys are too young to understand the issues.” Dr. Montgomery had pursed his lips into a hard, straight line. But he paused and smoothed his lips into a tentative smile.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “I’m forgetting my manners. Your . . . history project, was it?” His tone was once again the welcoming, grandfatherly one he had employed before.

  “That’s right,” Frank said.

  Dr. Montgomery laughed. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we boys? I know all about your little club. ATAC, isn’t that the name?”

  Frank looked like he’d been slapped.

  Would Dr. Darity have shared details of our investigation with Dr. Montgomery? What part of “secret agent” didn’t these people understand? Either way, our cover was blown. And Dr. Montgomery was clearly not a man who enjoyed being toyed with.

  “Yes, sir,” I jumped in. “American Teens Against Crime. We have a need-to-know authorization policy, which is why we had to employ this cover story. It’s not personal. There are lives at stake.”

  Dr. Montgomery nodded thoughtfully.

  “We’re trying to find out about the Brothers of Erebus.” Frank had finally gotten his voice back. “We think they might be involved in some of the incidents that have occurred around campus recently. Can you tell us anything about them?”

  Dr. Montgomery laughed. “The Brothers of Erebus? I didn’t even know they were still around. They’re a harmless club. In fact, in my day, they were a positive influence on the school. A few of the older, wiser students, helping to direct the efforts of the younger. The Brothers of Erebus simply recognizes that certain people are born leaders, and others are born to be followers. I’m sure you understand. ATAC must have some leadership, no doubt.”

  Dr. Montgomery had a smile on his face, but I still wasn’t sure I trusted him about the Brothers of Erebus. They were definitely still around, and as for harmless . . . well, only time would tell.

  “Well, it was a pleasure to speak with the two of you. I do, however, need to get ready for tonight. I’m sure you can find your way out.”

  Dr. Montgomery struggled to his feet. A rush of cold air swept in, and I turned to see Mrs. Wilson holding the front door open for us. I wondered how long she’d been standing there, and what she’d heard. We might as well get name tags that said “secret agents.”

  Clearly, it was time for us to leave.

  FRANK

  10

  Field of Screams

  After our less-than-successful visit with Dr. Montgomery, both Joe and I decided we needed to blow off some steam. Joe headed back to take Killer on a long walk, while I decided to go check out soccer practice. Watching other people kick things hard was the next best thing to getting to do it myself.

  On the way, I thought about what Dr. Montgomery had said. If there really were a lot of people upset by Destiny or scholarship students like Lee being at the school, it was possible we might be after multiple suspects. That made our work all the harder—and meant that the best way we could catch whoever was responsible was to keep an eye on Destiny and Lee.

  The team was just warming up when I got over to the athletic field. While they stretched, I decided to check around the grounds and get a good sense of the area. Since both Lee and Destiny spent a lot of time out here, it seemed likely that whoever was out to get them would strike here at some point.

  The main athletics building had an indoor gym, a pool, a weight room, all the coaches’ offices, and the boys’ locker room (which had finally been cleaned and repaired). Everything looked in order—or at least as much as a place used by a hundred guys on a daily basis ever looked to be in order.

  The school had made a separate changing room for Destiny, inside one of the caretaker’s houses that was currently not in use. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very near the soccer field. Instead, it was tucked away by itself behind some trees, about five minutes away. On the walk over, I couldn’t help but notice how isolated it seemed, even on the middle of campus. Between the hills and the trees, a game could be going on down at the soccer field, and no one would have any idea what was happening up here. It definitely made me worried for Destiny’s safety.

  When I got to the house, I tried the door, but it was locked. Dr. Darity had told us that Destiny had the only key. I just hoped whoever had the chance to lace her notebook with poison hadn’t thought to take it and make a copy. As much as I could tell from the outside, everything looked normal. I decided to head back and check out the practice.

  Since the game was less than forty-eight hours away, and tomorrow’s practice was cancelled because of the Benevolence Weekend opening dinner, the soccer team was hard at work when I returned. And hard was definitely the word for it. This wasn’t one of the friendly practices I was used to at Bayport High. They had divided up into two teams, and were playing a full on game. They looked like they were out to kill each other, with brutal slide tackles and “accidental” body checks. The way they passed the ball, they were lucky no one had broken an ankle yet. It was intense, and great to watch.

  Although everyone was good, one team was destroying the other, thanks to two players who stood out among the rest. Lee seemed to be everywhere for the offense—passing the ball, stealing it from the other side, running rings around the defense, and mostly, scoring. For every point any other play on the team got, Lee seemed to get at least one. He was on fire.

  In fact, he was almost as impressive as Destiny. Standing within the rebuilt goal post with her hair pulled back in a pony tail, she looked tiny, but nothing could get past her. She blocked the ball with her hands, her head, and her body. I watched her dive straight into the ground to stop a ball that looked to be going about one hundred miles an hour. She didn’t even flinch, just picked it up and tossed it
back out to the defense. She was a machine, despite what had happened to her hands just yesterday.

  Finally, the coach called a break. While most of the guys walked off together, or sat in small groups drinking water, Destiny stood off on the sidelines by herself. I hurried over to talk to her while I had a chance.

  “Hey!”

  Destiny jumped when I put my hand on her shoulder. She turned, and relaxed when she saw it was me. For all her brave talk, it seemed like she might be a little more nervous than she let on.

  “Hi Frank. How’s it going?”

  “I’m ok—how are you?” I looked at her hands. They still looked a little red, but they mustn’t have been hurting her too badly. She put them behind her back when she saw me glance at them. Clearly, it was the wrong question to start with. She tensed back up before answering me.

  “I’m good. It’s, whatever, you know?”

  “How are your hands?”

  “They’re fine. Lighten up. Stuff happens. I gotta concentrate on the game. Where’s your cute brother?”

  It was clear she didn’t want to talk about the pranks.

  “Are you excited about the game?” I wanted to keep her talking, just on the off chance she might mention something important.

  “Yeah! I’m excited to get to destroy those Blair School idiots. Finally a chance to get back at them.” She crushed her plastic Dixie cup in her hand as she spoke.

  “Didn’t you used to go there?”

  “Yeah, but they kicked me out for something totally stupid. I’m just glad they sent over my old blood supply from their health center so I could play. They are sooo irritated to be playing against me, too. People have been sending me text messages that say ‘tr8or!’ all week. Believe me, those stupid threats are nothing compared to what I had to deal with before I left Blair.”

  Interesting. If she was getting threats from her old school, maybe they had something to do with the pranks too.

  “What about Casey? Didn’t he go to Blair too?”

  “Yeah, but he says he, like, hated it there, and we’re cool now. I was kind of shocked really. We’d never been friends before. But he’s a good guy. Unlike some people around here.”