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My Private Detective
My Private Detective
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My Private Detective

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“I understand that your assignment was to bring a synopsis of a mystery you’re planning to write. At the end of class I’ll collect them. Over the weekend, I’ll read through them and make comments before I pass them back.

“For now, why don’t you get them out and we’ll start the oral presentations. Two minutes each should be long enough to give the class an idea of your basic plot.

“I’ll refrain from making comments about your stories until everyone’s had an opportunity to speak. At that point, I’ll let you know which mystery I think we should pursue as a class. Mr. Riley?”

“Call me Bob.”

“Okay, Bob. I can see you’re ready to go. Let’s begin with you. Come up here so everyone can hear you.”

The other man lumbered to the front of the room. “My story is about a serial killer in Houston, Texas, who wants to get back at the female teacher who humiliated him in class.”

Startled by the unexpected beginning, Heidi glanced up, and her eyes happened to meet Gideon’s. They both smiled. It was a private moment, over within seconds, yet he’d felt a connection with her that was even stronger than before.

“His hatred is so great that later on in life, he gets a job as a painter for the Houston school board.

“This man now has the freedom to enter any public school at any time and case it without being suspected. He picks his opportunity, then strangles his victim, who is always a female teacher. His original teacher has long since retired, but he doesn’t care about that. Ten teachers are killed before he’s caught.”

Gideon’s eyes met Heidi’s once more, then he thanked Bob and asked the woman seated next to him, Nancy to come up and read her synopsis.

“I’m really nervous, you guys, so don’t laugh. My story is about two world-class skiers, a guy and a girl, training in Vail, Colorado. They’ve lived together for six months and share a room at the hotel where the American team is staying.

“But their relationship has been plagued by violent arguments. She accuses him of not being interested in her career and wanting all the fame for himself. He accuses her of sleeping around.

“One morning after completing their first run, they go up on the double chairlift to start the second. Halfway to the top of the mountain, she falls out of the chair. Steve is horrified but can’t do anything until he’s let off at the top so he can ski down to her.

“By the time he reaches her, she’s dead. There’s an inquest, and it’s determined that Steve pushed her to her death. He maintains that he’s innocent, that he was in love with her. But the facts suggest otherwise.”

Nancy looked at Gideon. “That’s all I have so far.”

“That’s fine. Next let’s hear from Patricia.”

“Call me Pat,” she said after taking Nancy’s place.

“This is my very first story, so it’s not really thought out the way the others have been. I want to write a novel about this nurse who kills people on life support because she thinks she’s doing them a favor.

“I’m a nurse, so I feel comfortable about writing a murder mystery set in a hospital. There are a lot of suspects, including this one doctor she’s in love with and…”

HEIDI SAT THROUGH the next fifteen minutes of scenarios, still warmed by the detective’s smile. She’d thought him attractive the moment she’d caught sight of him from the hallway. But the amusement reflected in his face and eyes had made him totally irresistible—the kind of man you rarely met in real life. The chances of his being single and unattached were a million to one, she thought with resignation.

“Heidi?” He called on her last. “If you’re a writer, perhaps you’d like to share an idea for a mystery novel with the class.”

She lifted her head. Again she found herself gazing into eyes as blue as the ocean after the sun has burned off the haze.

Afraid it would sound suspicious if she stood up and gave a perfect outline of Dana’s case without the aid of notes, she said, “I wasn’t here for the first class to get the assignment. So if it’s all right, I’ll bring a synopsis next week.”

No one needed to know she wasn’t a writer. She figured that most, if not all, of the people in this room held a job and did writing in their spare time. For the next while she preferred to stay in the background; she’d wait to see what comments he’d make about her synopsis once she’d handed it in next Wednesday.

She hated any delay, but she was afraid to talk to him about Dana’s case so soon. After all, this was the detective’s first night teaching the class. She couldn’t risk alienating him right off the bat by asking for preferential treatment, not when an opportunity like this had finally come her way.

The detective eyed her for a moment, as if pondering her response. Then he got out of his chair to stand in front of them, legs slightly apart. Heidi tried not to be aware of his arresting masculinity, but it was impossible.

“Every story I heard would make a fascinating mystery, but I’m not an editor. My job is to turn you into professional sleuths in ten easy lessons—at least in your imaginations.” He flashed the class a quick smile that made Heidi’s heart falter briefly.

“On Wednesday night you learned that you must never assume anything. After hearing from everyone this evening, you can see why. Although we knew who the culprit was in all but one of the stories—Nancy’s—our minds were busy conceiving of any number of suspects who would’ve been capable of committing the crime. No doubt many of you would’ve chosen another character to be the culprit.”

Heidi nodded with the class. That was exactly what she’d done.

“How many of you have ever eaten a pastry called a Napoleon?”

Several hands went up, including Heidi’s.

“The French call them mille feuilles. A thousand leaves. The pastry is made up of many layers. A mystery is like that. As soon as you expose one layer, you find another, then another. Leaf by leaf, you carefully examine what you find.

“You subject the crime scene to thorough analysis. You follow up on every lead. You never leave a question unanswered, even if it takes you months, years or in some cases, all your life.”

Heidi shivered. He’d just zeroed in on her thoughts. Even if it took the rest of her life, she would never stop doing everything she could to see her friend go free.

“If some small point nags at you,” the detective continued, “you listen to your intuition and rethink it, rework it, until you’ve satisfied your curiosity.

“When I’m called to a crime scene, I try to keep an open mind, no matter how strongly I might be persuaded that a certain suspect has to be guilty because of circumstantial evidence.

“Consider Nancy’s story about the skier who was blamed for pushing his girlfriend to her death. We weren’t given a lot of information, yet based on the fact that he was sitting next to her, he had opportunity. We know he was jealous, so he certainly had motive.

“I don’t know how Nancy plans to finish her story, but by the time this class is through, she’ll understand what goes on at a crime scene. Armed with that information, I’m betting she’ll have come up with any number of alternative explanations.

“The victim might have been on drugs and fallen by accident. Or she could have decided to commit suicide—for any of a number of reasons. She might have hated her boyfriend enough to kill herself and hope he got blamed for it.

“Maybe she was pregnant with another skier’s baby and didn’t want her coach to know because he’d throw her off the team. Maybe she was pregnant with her boyfriend’s baby and didn’t want him to know. Or maybe she was afraid that if he knew, he’d insist she give up skiing.

“Possibly she jumped intending to kill the baby but not herself. Then again, maybe the bar holding the skiers in the chair gave way, and it was an accident, pure and simple. Especially if there was enough wind to make the chair sway and send her plunging before her boyfriend could prevent it.”

“I love that explanation!” Nancy cried out.

While everyone laughed and began a lively discussion of which version they felt she should use, Heidi thought back to Dana’s case. According to Dr. Turner, the prosecuting attorney had called it an open-and-shut case. A question of sibling rivalry that turned to jealousy, then murder.

But listening to Detective Poletti suggesting one possibility after another for the fictional skier’s death underscored Heidi’s belief that the police had overlooked something vital in Dana’s case. Something that would point to the real killer.

“Before I tell you which of your stories I’ve picked for the class to analyze, I’m going to pass out a packet detailing a homicide that happened in San Francisco a few years ago.

“This case will be your textbook. Inside is an incident report, crime-scene evidence reports, coroner’s report and a press report revealing the arrests made after a two-month investigation. Go ahead and look through it. Then you’re free to get up and stretch or use the washrooms at either end of the hall. We’ll reconvene in five minutes.”

Only the man named Tom left the room. The others immersed themselves in the information the detective had distributed. Heidi glanced through the pages, but her mind was still on Dana.

How she wished it was her friend’s case they were studying!

As soon as Tom was back, the teacher asked each of them to make one observation about what they’d read. Everyone said the same thing. They had no idea so much evidence could be gathered at a crime scene.

The detective nodded. “Perhaps now you’ll understand why many criminal cases fail to stand up in court. If the investigating officers overlook a piece of vital evidence, or if someone purposely or unwittingly disturbs the crime scene and tampers with the evidence before a team of experts can get in there, crucial bits of information are lost.

“It’s unfortunate that, on occasion, the police themselves have been accused of tainting or even planting evidence, but we’re not going to get into that in this class.

“Okay, let’s proceed to the mystery we’ll be examining. We’ll assume the crime scene is untouched and waiting for Mesa Junior High’s detectives to begin their investigation.”

A ripple of excitement swept through the room.

Heidi hadn’t met Mr. Mcfarlane, but she couldn’t imagine him enthralling the class the way Detective Poletti had. The man possessed so much genuine charm and charisma, everyone was mesmerized.

In fact, she couldn’t think of another man who exuded such confidence and intelligence without being at all overbearing. As she looked around, she realized the men, as well as the women, were captivated by his personality and easygoing manner.

“Emily Deerborn? I’ve chosen your synopsis.”

Everyone clapped for the beaming older woman and told her how lucky she was that her story had been the one selected.

The detective said, “Why don’t we ask Heidi to read it for us this time? When she’s finished, someone tell the class why I decided this was a good mystery for us to study.”

Heidi already knew why. Or at least she thought she knew. After she’d done her part, she sat down. At that point several hands went up, but their answers weren’t what he was looking for. Heidi raised hers.

His gaze swerved in her direction. “What’s your guess, Heidi?”

“A lot of the other stories dealt with motives that would have to be explored by interviewing suspects and witnesses alike. This story involved a poisoning carried out by four culprits. That means there’s an unusual amount of physical evidence that will have to be gathered in order for all four to be arrested in the end.”

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Emily has presented a case in which forensics will play a vital role. Daniel told me you signed up for this class to learn more about forensic science.”

Just as everyone nodded and made comments, the bell rang.

He glanced at his watch. “It’s time to go. Here’s your assignment.”

They all opened their notebooks and started writing.

“Over the weekend I want you to put on your detective hats. You’ll be writing up Emily’s incident report. I’ll start you off.

“It’s a Tuesday morning. You’ve been called to the scene of a possible homicide. You enter the office building with another detective and find two police officers, as well as two paramedics, already there, along with one witness who works in that office.

“Said witness came to work and discovered her boss slumped over the desk, so she called 911.

“With that scene in mind, list as many things as you can think of that need to be done on the spot. Use the textbook case I gave you to help make your list. Wednesday, we’ll put everything on the board and go from there.

“As you leave the room, please put your synopsis on the desk. Make sure your name’s on it.”

The class members got out of their seats and clustered around Detective Poletti. When he went into the hall, they followed, bombarding him with questions. Heidi hurriedly rearranged the desks for Monday morning.

She would have erased the board where he’d written his name and an outline of the class, but he came back inside and did it for her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes were smiling and alive. “What else can I do for you?”

“Not a thing. I’m ready to go. I need to pay my fee for the class before the secretary goes home.”

“Since I have to hand in the attendance roll, I’ll walk with you.”

He waited while she turned out lights and locked the door, then they started down the hall. Her awareness of him made it difficult to act naturally.

Jeff had been a much shorter man with an average build. Detective Poletti’s tall, well-honed frame was a revelation.

The last thing she wanted was to act like some of the other women in the class who’d already made their attraction to him obvious.

“You weren’t a detective in another life, were you?” he asked.

She chuckled softly without looking at him. “No. It just seemed to me that in a poisoning case, a lot of forensic work would be required in order to determine the culprit.”

“I’ll bet no one gets away with much in your geography class,” he teased.

“You’d be surprised. Kids come smarter and smarter these days.”

“You’re right,” he murmured. “Especially on the streets.”

Heidi turned her head to look up at him. “Was it a lot different in New York than here?”

“No. Gangs are everywhere.”

“I know. It’s a tragic situation that seems to be getting worse.”

He followed her into the community-ed office.

“Hi!” Carol greeted them, but her gaze rested on the man who’d just handed her the roll.

“Hi, Carol.” Heidi vied for the secretary’s attention.

“How much do I owe for the class? Detective Poletti was kind enough to let me sign up.” She opened her purse and reached for her checkbook.

“Make it out to Community School for a hundred dollars.”

“That’s all?”

The detective’s mouth curved upward. “Didn’t you know that law-enforcement officers, like teachers, aren’t in it for the money?”

“It isn’t fair. Considering all the times you’ll have to drive to our school, you’ll end up spending most of your teaching fee on gas alone.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “I’m not worried about it, but I appreciate your concern.” Their eyes met. Her pulse began to race when she realized that he seemed to be waiting for her.

After writing out the check, she handed it to Carol. “Thanks. See you later.”

“Good-night,” Carol said as they left the office and headed for the doors that led to the north parking lot.

He held one open for her. “Where’s your car?”

“Right ahead of us in the faculty parking area.”