Somebody Else's Music(51)

“I’m sorry.” Gregor sat down.

Kyle reached across the coffee table and took the Coke. “So,” he said. “Like I told you, Mr. Demarkian has been asked to come in and look over what happened to Michael, because—”

“Because the supermarket tabloids are making Elizabeth Toliver sound like a murderer, and her famous boyfriend doesn’t like it. Yes, Kyle, I know what’s going on. Not that I mind, really. If I were in her position, I’d probably do the same thing. Maybe some good will come of it. I’ve never been in the kind of financial position that would allow me to hire a famous detective to look into Michael’s death.”

“What about at the time?” Gregor asked her. “Were you satisfied with the extent of the investigation? I keep getting the impression that not very much was done, and yet that makes very little sense. The murder of a teenager in a small town is usually major news.”

“And it was major news, for about two months,” Daisy told him. “I can’t say I was dissatisfied with the investigation. They searched that park backward and forward. It stayed closed for the rest of the summer. They questioned all of those girls, the ones who found the body.” Daisy Houseman fluttered her hands in the air. “Maybe I shouldn’t start on that. Gene—my husband—Gene was very angry about that. He said they were the ones with blood on them. They were the ones the police ought to keep under observation. He was very bitter when the summer was over and they started going to college and nobody stopped them. But I could see the police point of view. There was no weapon. And unless you thought they were all in it together, they all had alibis. They were all together, you see, not killing Michael in the dark.”

“Did anybody ever consider the possibility that they were all in it together?” Gregor asked.

Daisy flashed him a smile. “I considered it. Gene did, too. Oh, I did not like that group of girls. Not a bit. I didn’t like it when Michael stayed so close to Chris Inglerod, and I didn’t like it when he was dating that other one, Emma. Although that came and went the summer between his sophomore and junior years. She dumped him as soon as they got back to school. She didn’t think her reputation would survive if anybody knew she was dating a boy in her own class. If it was up to me, the system would be very different. I’d cancel all the proms and all the dances and all the cheerleading squads. I’d make school school. But nobody would listen to that.”

“Michael was close to Chris Inglerod all his life, wasn’t he?” Gregor said.

“Oh, yes.” Daisy nodded. “We bought this house in 1953, and the Inglerods had the one next door around the back on Carter Street. We were the only families in the area who had children. Everybody else in the neighborhood was older. Their children were grown-up and gone. Most new young families in those days bought houses in the subdivisions that had just started going up. They had nobody to play with but each other, when they were very small children, and then later they walked to and from school together. That was why Gene and I bought this house, not so that Michael could walk to school but so that I could, when the children were bigger and I wanted to go back to teaching.”

“Excuse me if I’m wrong,” Gregor said, “but I keep getting the impression that that was unusual. That in this high school, the groups are pretty much closed off from each other.”

Daisy took a long sip of coffee. Gregor hadn’t even noticed her making it, but now that he looked down at the tray he saw that she’d made him a cup, too, but hadn’t put any milk in it, and probably hadn’t added any sugar. She put her cup down again and said, “You’ve got to understand. Hollman is a small town now, but in those days it was teeny. They all knew each other, all these kids, for most of their lives. In a large school, you can break up into groups and refuse to interact with anybody else, but in a small one you end up having to spend at least some time with almost everybody. There’s no practical way to avoid it. And, if you want to know the truth, they probably don’t want to avoid it. There’s a psychological dynamic there that somebody ought to study. Somebody who isn’t a complete fool, that is. I’ve read some of the literature on ‘adolescent status hierarchies,’ as they call them. It’s completely idiotic.”

“Was Michael going out with anybody in particular, that summer?” Gregor asked.

Daisy shook her head. “Nobody. He took the little Haggerty girl to the senior prom, but that was a matter of convenience. They both wanted to go, and neither of them had dates, and they were lab partners in biology. When summer came around, he was just working, just marking time. I’m sure he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. It seemed to Gene and me that he’d have plenty of time to find out.”