Chapter 24

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

“Mr. and Mrs. O’Leary, please, take a seat.”

Gina grips O’Leary’s hand tight as they are shuttled into the headmaster’s office. There’s the requisite dark wood, old portraits of old white men, classical music floating in the background. Headmaster Pendleton walks with that slow, nothing-is-that-urgent gait of old money before sitting behind his antique desk. O’Leary remembers the first time he visited this space. Pendleton acted as though he’d have to have the office fumigated when O’Leary left. Not that it stopped him from taking the “donation.”

Gina says nothing. She hasn’t said much since her world ended.

“You have our deepest condolences. Although Anthony wasn’t with the Academy long, he’s part of our family. The outpouring from his classmates has been uplifting.”

O’Leary nods. What else is there to do? He could point out that not one of those classmates ever came over after school, invited Anthony to their houses. That the guidance counselor brushed off Gina when she called to raise concerns about their son. Lashing out won’t change anything. It will only upset Gina more.

Pendleton waits for them to say something, as if unclear why they’re at the school.

Finally, O’Leary says, “We’re still in a state of shock. We just can’t understand why Anthony would commit suicide and—”

“We don’t say ‘commit suicide,’” Pendleton interrupts. We say ‘died by suicide.’”

O’Leary feels his blood turning hot. “Excuse me.”

“At the Academy, I mean. We teach the children to not say ‘committed’ suicide since it evokes associations with a crime and fosters negative stereotypes about mental illness.”

Gina sobs lightly. O’Leary needs to get control of his emotions lest he commit a crime himself.

“We just want to know why. We hoped his classmates might know something.”

Pendleton lets out a loud sigh. “I know this is hard. But, from my experience with the mental health of our students, I can tell you there usually isn’t a clear answer. Did Anthony leave a note?”

Gina releases another sob. O’Leary pulls out the sheet of notebook paper. Pendleton watches as he sets it on the desktop. “Yes, but it doesn’t tell us anything.”

The headmaster puts on his reading glasses and examines the note. He doesn’t pick it up but leans in close enough so he can make out the words:

I’m sorry.

I tried.

I love you.

O’Leary continues: “Have any of the students said anything? Any of his teachers?”

Pendleton shakes his head. He gestures to a file box sitting on a wing chair. “We have Anthony’s things from his locker. I’m not sure if they will provide any answers…” He lets the sentence fade.

“So, you’ve heard nothing? Nobody has any clue why my son committed suicide,” O’Leary says, daring Pendleton to correct him.

“I spoke with the students before and after this tragedy about Anthony,” Pendleton assures him. “And I’m sorry, no. He was new at the school. He was quiet, still acclimating, but no one had any idea he might do this.”

This is going nowhere. O’Leary stands, gently helps Gina out of her chair. Without saying anything more, O’Leary takes the file box and they leave.

After getting Gina buckled up in the car—she’s still in a near-catatonic state—O’Leary picks up the phone, dials Chaz.

“Hey, boss.”

“You hear from the doctor?” O’Leary’s concern about Gina’s mental state is growing.

“Yeah, he’ll come to the house whenever’s convenient for you.”

“This afternoon, before the wake.”

Chaz nods.

“And how about the tech guy?”

Anthony’s cell phone and laptop are password protected. Chaz took them to one of the tech scammers they work with to see if he could get inside. It’s their only chance for real answers. O’Leary knows it won’t bring him back. But maybe understanding will help Gina.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear. This guy’s good. If anyone can get inside, he can.”

“Well, tell him to step on it,” O’Leary says.

“Yes, boss.”

“And I want our boys at the force to interview this twat headmaster at the school, talk to some kids.”

“I reached out. They said they don’t usually investigate cases where—” Chaz stops himself. “The kids at that school have parents who aren’t gonna just let them be interviewed. It’s complicated.”

“You tell Doyle it’s gonna get a helluva lot more complicated if they don’t do what I say.”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’m leaving the school now. The headmaster lied to me.”

“Lied?”

“He said he talked to the kids about Anthony before what happened, but has no idea why Anthony was having trouble.”

“Yeah?”

“Why in the hell would he be talking about my boy before if there wasn’t somethin’ up?”

Chaz is silent.

“Tell your guy that I wanna know what’s on that headmaster’s computer, and phone too.”

“Will do.”

O’Leary kills the line.

He reaches over and hugs Gina, kisses her on the forehead. “I’m gonna find out, my girl. You watch me.”