Nighttime Is My Time

64

On Wednesday morning, Jake Perkins attended his scheduled classes, with the exception of the creative writing seminar, which he felt he was more equipped to teach than the current instructor. Just before the lunch break, in his capacity as a reporter for the Stonecroft Gazette, he went into the office of President Downes for his scheduled interview, in which Downes was supposed to give his comments on the glorious success of the reunion.

Alfred Downes, however, was clearly not in good temper. "Jake, I realize I had promised you this time, but actually it's quite inconvenient now."

"I can understand, sir," Jake responded soothingly. "I guess you've seen on the news that the district attorney may press criminal charges against two of our Stonecroft honorees because of this publicity hoax."

"I am aware of that," Downes said, his voice icy.

If Jake noticed the frosty tone, he did not show it. "Do you think that all this adverse publicity reflects badly on Stonecroft Academy?" he asked.

"I would think that's obvious, Jake," Downes snapped. "If you're going to waste my time asking stupid questions, then get out of here now."

"I don't mean to ask stupid questions/' Jake said quickly, his tone apologetic. "What I was leading up to is that at the dinner, Robby Brent gave a check for ten thousand dollars to our school. In light of his actions of the last few days, are you inclined to return that donation to him?"

It was a question that he was sure would make President Downes squirm. He knew how much Downes wanted a new addition to the school to be built during his term as president. It was common knowledge that, while Jack Emerson had dreamed up this reunion, along with the idea of the honorees, Alfred Downes had been delighted by the concept of it. It meant publicity for the school, a chance to show off the successful graduates-the message being, of course, that they learned everything they needed to know at good old Stonecroft-and it would also be a chance to wring donations from them and other alumni at the reunion.

Now the media were speculating about the eerie coincidence of five women from the same lunch table who had died since they graduated from Stonecroft, and Jake knew that wouldn't make anyone want to send their kids there. And now the Laura Wilcox and Robby Brent publicity scheme was another blow to the prestige of the school. His face set in earnest lines, his red hair sticking up even more than usual, Jake said, "Dr. Downes, as you know, my deadline for the Gazette is coming up. I just need a quote from you about the reunion."

Alfred Downes looked at his student with near loathing. "I am preparing a statement, and you will have a copy of it by tomorrow morning, Jake."

"Oh, thank you, sir." Jake felt a measure of sympathy for the man sitting across the desk from him. He's worried about his job, he thought. The board of trustees might give him the gate. They know Jack Emerson started the reunion fiasco because he owns the land they'll have to buy for a new addition, and that Downes went along with it, "Sir, I was thinking-"

"Don't think, Jake. Just be on your way."

"In a moment, sir, but please listen to this suggestion. I happen to know that Dr. Sheridan, Dr. Fleischman, and Gordon Amory are still at the Glen-Ridge and that Carter Stewart is staying across town at the Hudson Valley. Perhaps if you invited them to dinner and had some photos taken with them, it would be a way of putting Stonecroft back in a good light. Nobody could question any of their achievements, and pointing them out would offset the negative effect of the misconduct of the other two honorees."

Alfred Downes stared at Jake Perkins, thinking that in his thirty-five years of teaching he had never come across a student as nervy or as street-smart as he was. He leaned back in his chair and waited a long minute before responding. "When do you graduate, Jake?"

"I'll have enough credits by the end of this year, sir. As you know, every semester I've loaded up with extra classes. But my folks don't think I'll be ready to go off to college next year, so I'm happy to stay here and graduate with my class."

Jake looked at Dr. Downes and noted that he did not seem to share his happiness. "I have another idea for an article that you might like," he said. "I've done a lot of research on Laura Wilcox. I mean, I've gone over back issues of the Gazette and the Cornwall Times for the years she was here, and, as the Times reported, she was always the belle of the ball. Her family had money; her parents doted on her. I'm going to do a feature article for the Gazette to show how, with all the advantages Laura Wilcox enjoyed, she's the one who's having a hard time now."

Jake sensed that he was about to be interrupted, so he rushed on. "I think an article like that will serve two purposes, sir. It will show the kids at Stonecroft that having all the advantages doesn't guarantee success, and it will also show how the other honorees who had to struggle were better off for it. I mean, Stonecroft has both scholarship students and kids who work after school to help pay their tuition. That might motivate them, and besides, it looks good in print. The big-time media is looking for follow-up stories; it's the kind of thing they might pick up."

Gazing at the picture of himself on the wall behind Jake's head, Alfred Downes considered Jake's reasoning. "It's possible," he admitted reluctantly.

"I'm going to take pictures of the houses where Laura lived while she was growing up in Cornwall. The first one is empty now, but it was renovated recently and looks really good. The second house her family moved to on Concord Avenue is what I would call a tract mansion."

"A tract mansion?" Downes asked, bewildered.

"You know, it's one of a bunch of houses on one block that are too big or too ostentatious for the neighborhood. They're sometimes called McMansions."

"I never heard either expression," Downes said, more to himself than to Jake.

Jake jumped to his feet. "Not important, sir. But I have to tell you, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of doing a story on Laura with her homes in the background and pictures of her when she was here at Stonecroft and later ones when she became famous. Now I'll get out of your way, Dr. Downes. But maybe I should give you another piece of advice. If you can put that dinner together, I suggest you skip inviting Mr. Emerson. My impression is that none of the honorees can stand him."