Forever Knight

Reunion

Toni Knight chewed on the eraser of her pencil.  She made a few quick lines on the blank sheet of paper in front of her.  She studied them for a few seconds, crumpled the paper and tossed a perfect two pointer into the overflowing wastebasket.

"Writer's block?"  Nick said, softly kissing his wife on the crown of her head.

"More like artist's block.  I've got to flesh out Deidre, the villainess in the latest Jim Reardon novel.  According to the story line, she thinks she's exquisitely beautiful, or as close as cosmetic surgery can get her.  She's also cold, manipulative, self centered, domineering and completely without compassion or empathy.  Add to that the fact that she's totally amoral and will do anything to get what she wants.  Anything.  In other words, she's entirely plastic."

"So?"

"So, everyone I draw comes out warm and sweet and good.  I just can't get that evil look right.  Maybe you can be of help, Nick.  Did you ever meet Lucrecia Borgia?"

"Sorry.  Can't help you there.  I was in Milan at that time.  Janette and I were going through a rather messy ... 'divorce'.  I did hear stories, though.  According to them, she was the epitome of beauty and the archetype of evil.  She could very well be the role model for Deidre."

"I don't suppose you have any portraits of her buried deep within one of your treasure stashes in the attic?"

"Can't help you there, either.  Why don't you try the internet.  There's probably lots of information about her out there.  And maybe there might even be a picture or two."

"Great idea.  See, you were a big help after all.  That's why I married you."

"And all along I thought it was for my terrific body."

'That, too.  Now scoot or you'll be late for work."  She pulled his head to her and kissed him.  "Very, very late."

"Promises.  Promises."  He returned her kiss.

"Just wait till you get home.  I'll show you promises."  She teased as he headed for the door.

**********

Captain Davies stopped before Nick.  "I must be dreaming."  He said in mock surprise.  "If I am, don't wake me.  Detective Sergeant Nicholas Brabant Knight with a clean desk and an empty in-basket.  You are at the right desk, aren't you, Nick?"

"Yeah.  It's been a light week, so I used the time to catch up on all the back paperwork."  He said, grinning.  "If you want me to, I'll even do some more."

"Don't tempt me.  That family reunion you had a few months ago must have done you a world of good.  Maybe you should visit your family more often."

"With my ... ah ... family, once a century is too often."

"Nick, that's not a very positive attitude.  They are, after all, family.  There's bound to be a few rotten apples in the basket."

"You don't know MY family."

"I thought you were an orphan ... that Mr. LaCroix was your foster father."

"I am an orphan."  He didn't lie.  His biological parents had died over seven hundred fifty years ago.   "Although lately, LaCroix has become like a real father to me.  These are more or less ... distant relatives.  Some of them can trace back centuries."

"Speaking of families,  Here's one for you.  Domestic homicide.  Seems pretty much cut and dried.  Self defense.  Battered spouse syndrome."  He said, handing Nick a crime report.  "Still, we have to investigate."

**********

Mike Taylor let out a heavy sigh as they got into the Caddy.  "Good to have you back on this one, partner.  The replacement I've had during these last couple months left a lot to be desired."

"Oh?  Was he that bad?"

"SHE wasn't all that bad, but Patty Romain is fresh out of uniform and green as grass.  I don't think the ink was even dry on her Detective's Certificate.  She has very little self confidence and she almost had to check with me before she did anything.  Add to that, she must have gone to the Mary Poppins School of Personality.  After the third day, I was ready to throttle her.  She was that cheerful."

"I seem to recall I had a partner like that once.  She too, was green as grass, but with a little time and a lot of patience and hard work, she turned into a first rate detective in spite of her perkiness."

"I know.  That's what Tracy kept telling me whenever I complained to her about Romain."

**********

A group of police and other emergency vehicles surrounded the house by the time Nick and Mike pulled up.  In addition, a crowd of onlookers choked the sidewalk and lawn.  They had to push and elbow their way to the front door.  They showed their badges and were allowed inside.

"In the garage."  The officer at the door said.  "And this one's really ugly."

In the garage, photographers were busy snapping pictures of everything.  Quincy McCoy, the coroner, was just finishing zipping the body bag.  "Deceased is Earletta Mumford.  Female.  Age 42.  This is the murder weapon."  He held up an evidence bag containing a large bloody claw hammer.  "She was bludgeoned to death by her husband, Wilfred Mumford.  He's also the one who called it in.  That's him over there with Officer Grady."  He opened the body bag to show the head and upper torso. The victim's face and head were mashed almost beyond recognition.  Nick turned away quickly and shut his eyes so that no one would see them momentary change to gold.  He felt his fangs start to elongate.  He quickly swallowed the vampire back down.

Nick and Mike identified themselves to Mr. Mumford.  He was a small, thin, nondescript looking man with a receding hairline.  His most prominent features were large sad brown eyes, the kind that Toni had once described as 'basset eyes'.  These were framed by coke bottle thick wire framed glasses.  His left cheek was red and rapidly acquiring a blueish tinge, and the left side of his lip was cut and had swollen considerably.

**********

"I did it, Officers."  Mumford began after they had settled into the interrogation room at police headquarters.  Captain Davies and the District Attorney were in the next room watching through the two way mirror.  "I didn't mean to ... at least not at first.  Something just snapped, I guess.  Earletta has made my life a living hell for the past fifteen years and I guess I just couldn't take it any more.  I mean, one minute she could be the sweetest, most incredible person in the world, and in the next minute be a complete hellion." 

He wiped a tear from his eyes and sniffed loudly.  "While we were dating, she was the most wonderful woman I could want.  But the minute I said 'I do' she made sure I did.  In spades.   She questioned every little thing.  If I was five minutes late getting home from work, she was on my case about it.  If I had to work overtime, she would call every hour on the hour to make sure I was there. 

She took my paycheck and gave me an allowance.  I had to account for every penny.  She said that she had to make sure I didn't squander it.  Then one time, I caught her going through my pockets and my wallet.  She accused me of lying because there was seventy five cents less than what I said there was.   After that, she would only give me what I needed when I needed it.  She bought my clothes because she said I had no taste.  She bought all the furniture for the same reason.  She paid the bills.  She handled the credit cards.  And the checkbook. 

My eating habits disgusted her.  She didn't like what few friends I had.  She said they were bums and punks.  According to her, I was a lazy, worthless couch potato.  She complained I had no ambition.  Nothing I did pleased her.  After the first year our ... "  He took a deep breath.  "We didn't  ... you know ... any more.  She said I was a lousy lover."

"Did she ever hit you?"

Mumford stared at his shoes for a long minute and then slowly nodded yes.  "Well ... sort of ... she didn't exactly hit me.  It was with the open hand.  She said that someone had to slap some sense into me on a regular basis."

" Did you ever think about getting a divorce?"

"I asked her for a divorce about five years ago, but then her two brothers came to see me.  They said it was to talk some sense into me.  They were both bikers.  They broke my jaw.  Besides, she said I didn't have any grounds.  She said she's always been faithful to me, even though I wasn't worth it.  She said she took our marriage vows seriously, even if I didn't."

"Did you report her brothers to the police?"

Another long pause.  "No.  She said it was my fault.  She said that if I called the police, I'd be the one to go to jail.  She said I provoked them.  If I hadn't brought up divorce, they wouldn't have gotten angry with me and wouldn't have hit me in the first place."

"Have you ever heard of spousal abuse?"

"Officers!  I've never abused her!  I've never even raised my voice to her!" 

"It can work both ways.  Although it's not very common, the wife can be the abuser, too."

"I guess that's true."  He said softly.  "I suppose she did ... abuse me ... in a way.  But she loved me, too ... in a way."

"Want to tell us what happened today?"

"When I came home from work this evening, she started in on me again.  She found a red stain on my shirt and blond hairs on my pants when she did the laundry.  I tried to tell her that it was ketchup and that the hairs were from our neighbor's golden retriever, but she insisted it was lipstick and a woman's hair and that I was cheating on her.  Honestly officers, with this face and this body, do you think any woman would look at me twice?  

I needed some breathing room, so I went out into the garage to fix this table she had been nagging me about for the past few weeks.  She came after me, still yelling and screaming.  This time she really did hit me.  Several times."  He fingered his now purple cheek.  "Something just snapped.  I had the hammer in my hand.  I swung it at her.  I kept swinging.  I couldn't stop.  It was as if I was outside myself watching me do it.  I didn't want to kill her.  I just wanted her to stop yelling and hitting me.

I know it's murder, but I can't honestly say I regret what I did.  In a sense, I'm glad she's dead.  If I have to spend the rest of my life in prison, at least I won't have to face her and her nagging any more."

Nick and Mike excused themselves and went into the other room.  After a few minutes they returned.

"We've talked with the District Attorney."  Mike said.  "He's agreed to a Night Court arraignment and that you be given bail on your own recognizance.  Battered spouse syndrome is a very valid defense.   There's a good possibility you won't have to go to jail. The DA is going to recommend probation in conjunction with therapy.  I suggest that you get a good lawyer.  I also strongly suggest that make an appointment with the people at the Abuse Crisis Center.  They'll help you work through this."

Mumford reached across the table and grasped the detectives' hands firmly.  "Thank you, Detective Knight.  Thank you, Detective Taylor.  Thank you so much."  He said as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

**********

Mike sighed as he signed off on the Mumford report.  "I guess we don't realize how lucky we are to have wives like Tracy and Toni.  "  He said.  "By the way,  are we still on for tomorrow night?  I got to win back the money I lost the last time."

"Of course. I hope you don't mind if LaCroix and Robyn join us."

"Why should I?  I'll take the old man's money as well as yours."                              

"Don't ever let him hear you call him that, or you'll probably lose more than your money."

" Oh ... Right ... I forgot about his ... sensitivity ... about certain subjects.  See you tomorrow, partner."

**********

"Boo."  Nick whispered into Toni's ear.  Nick knew that when she had her nose buried in a book, she was oblivious to everything.  As expected, she almost jumped straight up.

"Don't EVER do that again!"  She yelled at him.  "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry.  What are you reading that has you so engrossed?"

"My high school yearbook.  I got this letter from the St. Francis Academy Alumni Association.  They're having the hundredth anniversary of the founding of the school and the fiftieth anniversary of the dedication of the present main building.  It's going to be the last weekend of next month.  All the former students are invited to take part.  That brought back so many memories, I just had to dig out the book and read through it."

"And I guess you want to go."

"You know I do.  I missed our tenth year reunion because of the problems I had while I was carrying Donny.  Not that I minded.  The baby was more important than any class reunion.  I would like to see everyone again, though."

"So, go on and go.  I can watch the kids during the day, and I know that either the Feldmans or the Giovanettis would be more that willing to spoil them while I'm at work."

"No way.  You're all coming along.  How can I brag on you if you're a continent away?"

"I don't know about that.  After Cairo, and what happened with LaCroix and Robyn, if I take any more time off, Davies will have a kitten with a wire tail right in my lap."

"Is this the same Captain Davies who is always chewing on your butt because you never take any time off?  If I remember correctly, you have loads of use-or-lose vacation days coming."

"Touche.  I'll ask him first thing tomorrow."

"Good.  Now, about Lucrecia Borgia.  I went out on the internet, but there weren't any pictures that I could use.  What about Lizzie Borden?  Did you know her?"

"No way."

"LaCroix and Robyn Parker are here."  Jenkins, the computerized voice of the smart house, announced.  "And Mike and Tracy Taylor have just pulled into the driveway".

LaCroix and Robyn entered.  Robyn was carrying a large red leather book with gold lettering.

"I see you brought your yearbook."  Toni exclaimed.  "Does that mean you got your invitation to the hundredth anniversary bash?"

"It came in today's mail.  Where's your book?"

"In the den.  Want to compare notes?"

"Of course.  That's why I brought mine.  Let's go.  We'll be back in no time."  Robyn called to the guys as she and Toni disappeared into the den.

"Might as well forget them."  LaCroix said to Nick.  "I know your mother-in-law well enough to know that when she gets like this, she's lost to reality.  Mike and Tracy should be coming in any moment.  At least we'll still have enough for a decent game."

"Where's Toni and Robyn?"  Tracy said as she came in the door.

"In the den.  They're going through their yearbooks."  Nick answered.

"Oh, goody!  I love to browse through things like that."  Tracy said as she headed for the den.  "Don't hold up the game for me."

"Well, we might as well forget about cards."  Nick said picking up the remote.  "Anybody want to watch the Sports Network?"

**********

" ... And that's Rochelle Lefler."  Toni said to Tracy, pointing to a picture in her book.  "... And that's Joel Peterson.  Sister Magdalene, she was our principal, called us the Trouble Triplets.  One time, Roxie, Joel and I parked Father Schorr's car.  He was our chaplain."

"What's so bad about that?"

"We parked it in the gym."

"Oh!"

"On the second floor."

"Oh my goodness!  And how'd you manage to do that?"

"You're the detective.  You figure it out."  Toni said with a grin.

**********

Columbus Ohio, 1986

"Toni!"  Rochelle Lefler whispered. "This will never work!"

"Oh ye of little faith."  Toni said as she laid the boards across the steps to the gym.  "Don't you know me by now?  If I didn't believe we could do it, I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place."

Roxie bowed low and rolled her hand up her chest.  "Forgive your unworthy servant for doubting you, Oh Master of Masters.  Now what do we do?"  She said as they put the last board in place.

"Just don't let it happen again."  Toni chided.  "Now, as soon as I hot wire the car, you and Joel drive it into the gym."

**********

"How."  Sister Magdalene said to the trio standing before her.

"How?"  Toni said solemnly, raising her hand in an Indian salute.

"How did Father's car get into the gym?"

"Somebody put Father Schorr's car in the gym?"  Joel said in mock surprise. 

"But that's on the second floor!"  Roxie added her eyes wide in counterfeit horror.

"I know you three did it.  If anything weird or unusual happens in this school, chances are better than a hundred percent that one or all of you are involved.  Just tell me how you did it and there will be no reprisals."

Toni looked intently at the ceiling.  Roxie and Joel did the same.

"Very well, You three are denied all school privileges for the remainder of the semester, and you will spend thirty days in detention.  I'd give you demerits, but you have already exceeded the school record, and it's only November.  The next infraction could be cause for suspension or expulsion."

"You think she means it?"  Joel asked as they left the principal's office.

"She's always threatening us with that.  She hasn't done it yet and odds are she never will.  She knows that if she kicks us out, the school will lose our tuition money.  She's too greedy for that."  Toni answered.

**********

Los Angeles

"So, that's how you did it!"  Tracy exclaimed.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to read your mind, but you were practically shouting it.  Clever, to say the least.  I would have never thought of that."

"How did they do it?"  Robyn asked.  "They never did tell me."

"Client confidentiality."  Tracy smirked. 

"Who's that?"  She said pointing to another picture. "I've seen her featured in a number of the class pictures."

"That's Claire Krause.  She was Class Everything.  Class President.  Class Valedictorian.  Lead Cheerleader.  President of the Student Council.  Homecoming Queen.  Captain of the Varsity Volleyball Team.  Lead in all the theater productions.  First Chair on the debate team.  Editor of the Oracle ... that's the school newspaper.  Won a National Scholarship.  Never had a zit all through puberty.  Did I mention that she was also Sister Maggie's pet?"

"I kind of got that impression.  I also get the idea that there was very little love lost between the two of you."

"We were always head to head on everything.  The deciding factor was her father.  He was, and still is, president and CEO of Krause and Associates, one of the best known law firms in the area and a big contributor to the school.  Seems her mother went there, too.  I think she was in your class, Mom.  Sister Maggie kissed up to him like you wouldn't believe.  Naturally, Claire always came in first in everything, and poor little Atonia Parker, daughter of a single divorced working mother, was always left out in the cold."

"No, Judith Lang was in the class ahead of me"  Robyn said.  "If you thought Claire was a snob, know that she came by it naturally.  As they say, money breeds money."

"And shit breeds ... "

"Atoina Marie ... "  Robyn cautioned.  "Be a good girl."

"That was being good."

"What about you, Robyn.  What do you remember about your high school days?"

Robyn opened her book.   "That's Marianne Perkins and Catherine Pappert.  Everybody called her Cat.  We were leaders of the AFO-OFA.  That stands for All For One and One For All.  Actually, my mother, Barbara Scott, started the group when she went to St. Francis.  Toni and her friends were members as well.  I have no doubts that Nellie has a  group in her class, too. It's sort of a tradition in the Scott family.  Our chief goal in life was not to take life seriously. 

We perfected the art of cooking breakfast after chapel in the Science Room, among other things.  If anyone asked, we were experimenting on the effects of heat on various proteins, carbohydrates and liquids.  In other words, eggs, hash browns and coffee.  We sold them to the other students for a buck a plate.  Made a tidy little sum, too. Until Sister Catherine, she was our science teacher, caught us and made us put the money in the poor box.

One time we raffled off Sister Frances in order to get money for a new projector for the auditorium.  The old one was falling apart.  Sister didn't mind, and we raised almost three hundred dollars.  Sister Angelica ... who was anything but ... she was our principal at the time ... was pretty upset with us, but she really did appreciate the new projector.

We also were responsible for painting the statues in the stable scene at Mount Nazareth Academy red and gold.  They were our arch rivals.  Of course, they painted the statue of St. Francis blue and white on many occasions, so we were even.

I think Marianne, Cat and I majored in detention."

"And who is that?"  Tracy asked Toni, fingering a picture of an rather unremarkable boy in Toni's book.  He was thin and gangly.  His red hair was close cropped and cowlicks sprouted in every direction.  His heavy black-framed glasses nearly obscured his milky brown eyes.  His thin lips barely covered the protruding front teeth.  All these were accentuated by a generous covering of freckles.  "He looks like a prototype for Alfred E. Newman.  You know, Mad Magazine."

Toni studied the picture a few minutes.  "According to the caption, that's Martin Cerofsky, although for the life of me, I can't remember him.  Maybe he didn't graduate or maybe he transferred out after the picture was taken. He must have, there's nothing listed for him as far as activities go.  Oh, well, it's not that important."

**********

"Everything is set." LaCroix said.  "I've arranged for a private jet to fly us to Columbus.  A limousine will pick us up at the Executive Jet hanger and take us to the Sheraton Suites, where I have reserved the top floor for our use.  Although, I still do not see why I have to go.  Nicholas, I can understand, but me?"  He looked straight at Robyn.

"Same reason Nick is going.  So I can brag on you."  She said, patting him lightly on the backside.  "Besides, Doctor Nichols says you are not fully recovered yet, and you still need looking after, and I can't do that unless you're with me, can I?"

"Who needs looking after?"  He said with a roguish gleam in his eye.  "Who keeps trying to do too much too soon?"

"Then I guess we'll just have to look after each other."

"No. Those arrangements are not all right."  Toni said firmly.

"NO?"

"First of all, we do not need a limo.  Second, the Sheraton Suites Hotel is on the opposite end of the county from Munks Corner.  Third, we don't need an entire floor.  And as far as the private jet goes, what's wrong with commercial airlines?"

"For one thing ... "  He stopped in mid breath.  He was acutely aware that Robyn was staring holes through him.  "Well, I suppose we could do without the limousine ... if I can reserve a Cadillac instead." 

Robyn nodded assent.

" ... And a van.  For Nick and me.  That is, unless you want to be stranded a good part of the time."  Toni interjected.

" ... And a van."  He said with an air of resignation.

"Good." 

"What hotel would you recommend?"  He asked Robyn.  It was as if he were choking on every syllable.

"The Residence Inn is the closest to the farm.  They have home-like suites with their own kitchen, two bedrooms, and a full living area.  Some even have Jacuzzis."

"Very well.  But I shall reserve two of the suites that have hot tubs ...With connecting doors, of course."

"Agreed."  Toni said.

"And we keep the private jet."

"Okay.  You can keep the jet."

"Thank you.  You are so kind."  He said with more than just a touch of sarcasm.

**********

It was late evening when the party arrived at the Gramwood farm a few miles outside Munks Corner.  Sherry and Ron were waiting at the door.

"I  still don't see why you couldn't all stay here."  Sherry said after all the hugs and hellos had been said.  Nellie had immediately shepherded her three cousins into her room.  "Since Jay is in Toronto on a student exchange program between the University of Toronto and OSU, we have plenty of room."

"Simple math."  Nick explained. "There are seven of us and only one room."

"Don't forget the extra room in the cellar."  Ron added.  "We also have a couple of folding cots, courtesy of Nellie's sleep overs.  And Nellie wouldn't mind sleeping on the couch for a few days."

"Even so."  Toni continued.  "Someone could still end up sleeping on the floor. Plus, with Nick's and LaCroix's special requirements, it would mean a radical shift in your daily routine."

"We thank you for your offer."  Robyn concluded.  "It's much better this way.  Each of us has our privacy and yet we are close enough that we can visit as often as possible without disrupting the other's routines."

"In addition, we have an indoor pool at the hotel."  Nick added.

"POOL?"  Nellie exclaimed from her room.  "Did somebody say pool?  Can we go there now?  Please?  Ple-e-a-a-se, Uncle Nick ... Aunt Toni? ... LaCroix?"  Although Nellie was almost seventeen, she still had many little girl qualities about her.

"Maybe later.  I promise you'll get to swim."  Nick said.

**********

Toni wandered through the gym.  If she closed her eyes, she could still see Father Schorr's car sitting in the center circle of the basketball court.  The room had been gaily decorated with banners and posters proclaiming the anniversary.  The walls were lined with pictures of the school in various eras of its existence.  Also, there were group graduation pictures of each class, starting with the carefully posed tintype of the seven ladies in the class of 1904 from the Franciscan Female Normal School.  Knots of graduates were standing around each of the photos studying and discussing them.

Nick, Ron and LaCroix stood in one corner of the room with a group of spouses and significant others of the alumni.  They, like all the others in the same predicament, looked slightly bewildered and very uncomfortable.

The students had arranged to provide babysitting services all weekend for those who needed it, and Donny and the twins were with a group of other children in one of the classrooms, chaperoned by various enterprising sophomores.

Marianne, Cat, and a group of her classmates had pigeonholed Robyn, and they were busily checking out the graduation photos.  Sherry and some of the mothers were occupied directing the student activities.

"Would you like a snack, Aunt Toni?"  Nellie asked.  She and several of the current students were acting as hosts and hostesses for the gathering.

"Thank you very much."  Toni said as she took a glass of punch and a small finger sandwich. "Have you asked your Uncle Nick yet?"

"Uh huh.  He took some, but Uncle LaCroix didn't.  Is he sick or something?  These are really good.  We made them in Family Sciences class."

"You know he's on a special diet.  Don't worry.  He ... ate just before we got here."

"Okay."  She said as she went to the next person.

"TONI PARKER!"  A voice called from behind her.  "I knew you'd be here as sure as the sun comes up."

Toni turned around.  "Only it's Toni Knight now."  She said, holding up her left hand.  "Roxie?  Roxie Lefler?  Is that really you?"

A slender black woman was standing there holding her arms out to her.  "In the flesh.  Only it's not Roxie Lefler any more either."  She said embracing Toni.

"I guess not.  Who'd you snag?  I'll bet it was that cute guy from the class two years ahead if us?  What was his name ... Todd something-or-other?  The one you were always sneaking behind the bleachers with.  If I remember right, you had such a crush on him ... "

"Meeker was his name.  No, it wasn't him."  Roxie shook her head, an amused smile on her face.

"Then it had to be that sailor that you were always mooning about.  The one who sent you presents from all over the world.  He was what? ... The boy next door?"

Another negative shake.

"Don't tell me it was that boy from St. Anthony's.  He was ... what did you call him ... Sexy on a pogo stick?"

"None of the above.  It was God.  I snagged God, or rather He snagged me."  She pointed to her name sticker.  it read 'Sister Mary Grace OSF'.

"A NUN? You?  Rox ... I mean Sister Grace?"

"Not exactly.  I'm a Sister.  Don't you remember what Sister Madonna taught in Religious Ed?  Nuns are cloistered.  Sisters are in the real world.  And unless it's in an official capacity, I'm still Roxie to you."

"But still ... You? "

"Remember, I told you that I thought I had the call?  Well, I was right.  I tried the secular world for a while.  You know, the whole nine yards.  Work.  Dating.  All those things, but I just wasn't satisfied.  So, three years after we graduated, I entered the convent." 

"I thought you were joking.  You hardly seemed like the type."

"And what type is that?"

"So, what are you doing now?  Missionary work?  Running a free clinic in the inner city?  You always did have a soft spot for those less fortunates.  Maybe that's why we got along so well."

"Actually I ... "

Just then, Nellie came up to them  "Excuse me, Sister Grace, but the Monsignor would like to talk to you."

"Thank you, Nellie."

"Monsignor?"  Toni said, cocking her wrist and mock looking down her nose at her best friend.  "We ARE getting up in the world, aren't we."

"It's probably job related. As I started to tell you, I'm now the principal here at St. Francis."

"We HAVE to talk."

"As soon as I've finished, I'll be back.  I guarantee."  Roxie called as she headed toward the priest standing at the doorway.

"I see that the years have really been good to you, Toni."  Joel Peterson said as he approached.  He reached inside his coat and pulled out a bunch of silk flowers.  "For the fairest of the fair."  He said, handing them to her.

"Still doing your magic, I see."  She said as she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Just part time now.  You know, the Moose Hall on Saturday nights, charity benefits, and children's birthday parties.  I did turn pro and I traveled with the David Copperfield Organization for a while, though.  Then Dad died eight years ago and I came back and took over the hardware store full time.  I've got to feed my wife and two and a half kids somehow, and show business isn't the most stable profession."

"Two and a half kids?"

Joel pointed to a woman standing by the buffet table talking with several people.  She was obviously very pregnant.  "That's Annette Pollacheck.  You remember her.  She was one year behind us.  Our sixth anniversary was in January. The baby's due in three weeks.  We have two girls.  This one is a boy."  He pulled out his wallet and showed pictures of his family, including the ultrasound of his unborn son.  "And how about you?"  He took her left hand and fingered the wedding bands.  "Who's the lucky guy that stole your heart?"

"Nick Knight."  Toni said pointing to her husband.  "He's a cop in LA.  We'll be married seven years in September and have three kids."  She pulled out her wallet and handed it to him.

He studied the pictures and nodded his approval.  "You always did have good taste in men.  After all, you even dated me for a while.  Speaking of dating, have you seen Vincent Caligari yet?"

"The Octopus?  He's here?  He was the biggest skirt chaser in the school.  Nearly every girl I know had to fight him off with a very large stick.  He had more non sports injuries than anybody.  A lot of them were from the girls and the rest were from their boyfriends.  I ought to know, I gave him a few bruises myself."

"There he is.  Over there with Roxie."

"But that's the ...  You've got to be kidding."  She giggled and shook her head in bewilderment.  "That can't be Vinnie the Octopus.  That's a priest.  And a Monsignor to boot."

"That's him.  God works in mysterious ways.  Take Roxie, for example.  Who would have guessed.  Reality IS stranger than fiction, you know."

"ATONIA my dear."  The voice could only belong to one person.  Claire Krause.  Toni turned and nearly choked. 

The woman coming toward her was Claire all right, but she had changed radically from her high school days.  Her naturally golden hair was now bleached a platinum blonde and it was teased and lacquered until it looked like the wig on a cheap doll.  She was at least fifty pounds overweight.  Her nose had been reshaped and her breasts had definitely been augmented.  She sported much too much makeup.  < Probably to cover the plastic surgery scars. >  Toni thought. She wore a beautiful dress, but it was not the proper design for a woman of her ... ample proportions, and it accentuated all the wrong places.  In addition, it was at least a size too small.  Toni bit her lip to keep from snickering.  

"It's so nice to see you again, darling."  Claire said, placing her head to Toni's and blowing kisses to the air.

Toni nearly gagged.  The perfume she wore was expensive to say the least, but she reeked as if she had bathed in it. 

"How have you been, Atonia dear?"

"I ... "

"Frank and I were surprised that you didn't make it to the tenth reunion.  It was lovely.  You do remember Frank Siefert, Don't you?  That's him over there."  She pointed to her husband.  "Of course if you've been reading the alumni newsletter, you know we just donated the bulk of the money for the new science wing to the school."

"You married Frank?  I thought you and Bob Messida were practically engaged all through school."

"Oh, we were married, but only for a little over six months. We never could have made it work.  He just didn't have the right goals.  He went on to OSU on a football scholarship but he never even got to the pros.  Then he drove a truck for three or four years. Right now, he's coaching over at St. Phillips.  Can you imagine that?  Wasting his life coaching high school sports.  Daddy pulled some strings with the bishop and City Hall and had the marriage annulled.  Why have influence if you can't use it?"  She shook her head slowly. 

"Then I started dating Frank.  We were married eight months later. His ambitions were much more practical.   He interned at Daddy's firm during his senior year at Law School.  That's where I met him.  When he graduated, Daddy gave him a job.  He's now a junior partner, and Daddy says it won't be long before he's a senior partner.  His specialty is torte and contract law.

We have two children. Tiffany-Anne and Marshall.  Tiffi, that's her nickname, is ten.  She in the third grade at Columbus School for Girls and according to her teachers, she's very bright.  She danced in the Christmas production of Nutcracker this year and she will perform on the flute with the Columbus Youth Symphony this summer.

Marshall is nine and is in the second grade at Columbus Academy.  He was voted most valuable player on his field hockey team this year.  He has also won trophies for soccer and lacrosse. 

Are you married yet?"

"I ... "

"Frank has promised to take me to Majorca for our anniversary.  Have you ever been there?  Everybody I know says it's absolutely fabulous.  They say it rivals the Riviera.  We went there last year.  Had an absolutely incredible time.

Now, you must tell me all about your life.  Did you ever get to go to art school?  You were always doodling and drawing those cutesy little pictures of everyone."

Claire hadn't changed.  She still had that better-than-thou  attitude and she was still rubbing everybody's nose in it. 

"As a matter of fact, I did."  Toni said.  < If Claire wants snob, I'll just give her snob. >  She thought with a mental smirk.  "When I graduated, I got a job with Lucasfilm as an art consultant. You have heard of them, haven't you?  Star Wars?  Indiana Jones?"  She had never worked on either 'Indiana Jones' or 'Star Wars', but Claire didn't need to know that.  "That led to even more assignments.  Now I have my own production studio.  I won an Oscar for my work on 'The Holy Grail Is In The Sidonia Valley' and I received an Emmy for 'Southern Seduction'.  I've been nominated for a second Hugo Award in as many years.  This one's for 'Descent Into Darkness'. The author, Jim Reardon is a dear friend of mine.  There have even been several CLEO awards, too."  < They were all technical awards, but who cares, they were awards just the same. >  She justified.

"I also have been consulted by the police department on numerous cases as an expert Forensic Artist."

Claire looked a little flustered.  Toni's game of one-upmanship was bearing fruit.  "With all that, I suppose you haven't had time for a marriage."

"As a matter of fact, I am married.  Very happily married, as a matter of fact."  Toni held up her left hand, careful to let the myriad of stones in her diamond, ruby, and sapphire engagement ring catch the full light.  "We've been married seven years and have three children.  Joseph and Natalie are twins.  They're six.  Donny is two. 

Joey and Nattie have tested in the genius range.  Joey's IQ is 169 and Nattie's is 172.  They are honor students in the second grade.  They also attend accelerated learning classes at UCLA in the summer months and in the afternoons during the school year.  Nattie speaks three languages fluently and has shown great talent on the violin.  

Joey has a marked propensity for mechanics and CAD.  That's Computer Aided Drawing, by the way.   He has been helping an automotive engineer friend of mine design a racecar for the Daytona 500.  He's also designed and written several computer games.  Mother says they're exceptional and she's going to try to get them marketed.  She ought to know.  You do know she's head of AIS at Microsoft, don't you?  That stands for Artificial Intelligence Systems.  She also has her own electronics design company.

Donny can already read simple words and knows how to write his name.  We think he may be a genius as well.  Naturally, he thinks that's normal.  He thinks that every two year old can read and write."

"My husband is an accomplished pianist and has performed with the Vienna Symphony on several occasions."  < Once in the Seventeenth Century and twice in the Nineteenth. > She added mentally.  "He is also an excellent painter.  One of his portraits hangs in the Louvre.  < He didn't paint it, of course, and he IS in the buff. >

"How proud you must be of them."  The ice fairly dripped from her words.

"You mentioned you were going to Majorca.  I've never been there, but then again, when we vacation it's usually at the castle."

"The castle?"  Claire choked.  "Oh!  You mean the castle in Disneyland, don't you?"

"Oh, no!  Not Disneyland.  Our castle is in Belgium.  It's my husband's ancestral home.  Although Nicholas doesn't like to brag, he is the Count de Brabant, after all.  I guess that makes me a Countess."  She pointed to Nick, who was standing next to Frank.  The difference in the two men was extremely apparent.  Where Frank was balding, wearing trifocals and developing a paunch, Nick was extraordinarily handsome by any standards.

Claire almost physically turned green.  "Melody, darling ... "  She said as she hurried to capture another unsuspecting victim.

"Really, Toni."  Nick said as he approached her.  "I heard everything you said to her.  I thought we agreed that we were not going to exploit our ... unusual circumstances."

"I know.  And I'm sorry ... Come to think of it ... "  She got a twinkle in her eye.  "No, I'm not the least bit sorry.  She deserved it.  I just did what every freak, geek, and nerd has secretly always wanted to do.  I just brought the class snob down a peg or two.  Every school has at least one.  Didn't you ever want to do that?"

"You forget, I didn't go to school.  Fleur and I had private tutors.  There were a few knights in my crusader regiment though, that were interminably insufferable.  What I wouldn't have given to bring them to their knees.  Does that count?"

"Then you understand why I had to do it?"

Nick nodded.  "His name was Paulus DeLa Agrones."

**********

Constantinople, 1223

" ... And so, there I was, in the thick of battle beside my liege, Philip Augustus, at the battle of Bouvines."  Paulus boasted, downing the last of his tankard of ale.  It would have been useless to point out to him that at the time of the battle of Bouvines, he would have been only thirteen years old.  "When the King asked me what  I thought would be a good battle strategy, I gave him the benefit of my countless years of experience ... "

Nicholas wished desperately that he had thought to bring his sword, or at least a dagger to silence the tongue of this braggart.  No matter what anyone else had done, Paulus had done it better, faster, and at a younger age.

" ... That's when he knighted me and suggested that I take a place at the head of the regiment.  Naturally, I refused.  It would have been much too brazen of me ... "

Nicholas gritted his teeth and took another sip of his ale.

Paulus pushed his empty tankard toward Nicholas.  "Brabant, my dear boy."  He said haughtily.  "Would you get me another round.  All this has made my throat very parched."

< BOY!! >  Nicholas glowered  < I'm at least three years older than he is, and battle tested.   Despite his bragging, he doesn't even know which end of the sword to point ... and he has the nerve to call me BOY! >  When he returned to the table, the Company Commander was sitting in Nicholas's place.

"I know you won't mind, Brabant."  Paulus said.  "I asked His Lordship to join us.  Do be a good fellow and get him a tankard.  And make sure it's the good stuff this time.  Not that slop you've been drinking."

Nicholas muttered unthinkables that questioned DeLa Agrones's parentage, heritage, bathroom habits and sexual practices, as he threaded his way through the crowded tavern to the bar.

**********

Columbus

He made his way along the familiar halls.  How many times had he walked them?  No one noticed him then, just as no one noticed him now.  He had stood in the gym for three hours and not one person had come up to him.  No one had welcomed him.  Even the student at the registration desk had to hunt for almost two minutes to find his nametag. He never had any friends.  He was much too shy and introverted.

He stopped in front of the trophy case.  He put his hands on the glass and stared a long moment.  None of the awards in there applied to him.  He was never good at sports.  He was too small and too awkward.  Public speaking was out.  His voice was high and nasal.  He wasn't in any honor societies.  He was lucky he made C's.

As with everything else in his life, there was nothing to distinguish his high school days.  Nothing except the pain and the loneliness. A small smile crossed his face.  Perhaps ... Perhaps there was something he could do.

**********

"...And so there we were, three very frightened seminarians, hopelessly lost in the catacombs under the Vatican."  Vincent Caligari was regaling the group with tales about his years at the American College in Rome.  "When this little old man came toward us.  He was casually dressed, and he looked like he was one of the caretakers." 

'I can sympathize with you.'  He said after we explained our predicament.  'It took me almost a year before I could find my way.  I think the early Christians planned it that way so the Roman soldiers couldn't find them.' "

"And they planned it very well."  LaCroix agreed.  "It worked admirably.  We ... I mean the soldiers ... got lost more times than not."  Then noticing Vincent Caligari's puzzled look, he added.  "I'm a Latin history buff."  No one except Nick and Robyn seemed to notice the slip of the tongue.

"Then he offered to take us in a tour of the Vatican."  Vincent continued.  "We must have spent at least three hours there.  He gave us a detailed description and the history of every significant area, statue, and tapestry in the place.  Finally, he led us back into St. Peter's square.

'You must come again.'  He said as we were leaving.  'There's so much more that you haven't seen.  I should be delighted to be your guide again.'

'How will we find you?'  We asked.  'We don't even know your name.'

'I will find you.'  He said with a wink.  'God bless you, my children.'

It wasn't until Mass the next Sunday that we realized that our tour guide was none other than His Holiness himself."

"Wow, Vinnie ... I mean your Eminence ... I mean ... "  Toni stammered.  "Did you ever go back?"

"Vinnie was a long time ago.  It's just Vince now."  He tugged at his clerical collar.  "The only reason I'm wearing this accursed thing is because Roxie told me to.  Then she chickened out and didn't wear her habit."  He his finger at Roxie.  "You're in for it, Rox.  Just wait until the next time I hear confessions.  You're going to be saying rosaries until your fingers bleed."  He said with a sly grin.  "Also, 'Your Eminence' is a for a Cardinal.  To my parishioners, I'm just plain Father Caligari, or Father Vince.  Most of them don't even know I'm a Monsignor. 

And no, we never did go back.  We were too embarrassed that we didn't recognize him the first time.  And just a little bit awed that he was so friendly and down to earth, and not some mystical being on some lofty ecclesiastical pedestal.  The next time we saw the Pope was in a formal audience with fifty or so other seminarians just before we left to came back to the States."

Nellie came up to them.  Her face was chalk white.  "Come quick, Sister."  She said in a voice barely above a whisper.  "It's Mr. Zuratocic.  He's been hurt."

"That toilet in the girls room on the second floor overflowed again, and Shana and I went to get Mr. Zuratocic."  She said as the group headed for the basement.  "He wasn't in the Custodian's room so we went looking for him.  We found him in the furnace room.  He was unconscious.  Shana stayed with him and I came to get you guys."

**********

The short beefy custodian sat on the floor of the furnace room.  Shana Deere held a damp towel to the back of his head.  His lion's mane of gray hair was covered with blood.  Nick turned quickly away as the smell assaulted him.

"It's nothing."  Stavros Zuratocic said in a thick Slavic accent.  "If I could survive the Gulag, I can survive a little bump on the head."

"It looks like more than a little bump."  Roxie said, gently probing the injury.  She pulled a cell phone from her purse.  "I'm calling the Emergency Squad.  I'll tell them to come 'no sirens' so that they don't alarm the others.  Nellie, go and wait at the freight entrance for them."

"Want to tell me what happened?"  Nick said.

"I was making my rounds when I thought I heard a noise in here.  I came in to search but I guess I must have bumped into one of the pipes.  They're very low, you see.  Really, I'm all right."  He started to get up, but sat down quickly.  "Well, maybe not so all right."

Nick looked at the custodian's bloody head.  He took a deep breath and held it as he forced his fangs and eyes to remain normal.  Something didn't look right.  "Could there have been anyone in here when you came in?"  He asked.

Stavros shook his head gingerly. "Not unless they were ghosts.  This room was empty.  The door was locked and Sister and I have the only keys."

Just then, Nellie led the paramedics into the room.

**********

They returned to the gym.  The party seemed to be going on as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.  From the fact that no one noticed their return, it was safe to assume that no one had noticed their departure ... or the arrival and departure of the ambulance.  Although the medics were reasonably sure that the custodian did not have a concussion, he would require stitches.  The doctors at the hospital would also take X-rays just to be sure.

"Well, I guess that means I'll have to make out tons of paperwork."  Roxie said as she headed for the exit. "No rest for the weary, or is that the wicked?  I guess I won't be seeing you again until the dinner dance tomorrow night."

**********

He fidgeted nervously.  It was too quiet.  They should have found out by now.  The police should have been here with sirens blaring and lights flashing.  The entire gymnasium should have been in a state of near panic.  Things were not going according to plan.

**********

Roxie came back to the gym.  The party had ended and most of the alumni had left.  "Toni."  She whispered to her best friend.  "Did you say your husband was a detective?"

"Yes.  Why?"

"Because I think we have a mystery that needs to be solved."

"What kind of a mystery?"

"Bring him to my office and you'll see for yourself."

**********

Toni stopped and stared at the display case that lined the wall beside the principal's office.  Most of the trophies, ribbons and awards were there, but on the second shelf, the ones that were given to the Class of 1987, were conspicuously absent.  Nick was crouched beside the glass door, intently examining it.

"I can tell you this."  He said as he stood up.  "Whoever did this knew what he or she was doing. There doesn't appear to be any signs of forced entry.   How many people have keys to this cabinet?"

"It's not really locked.  The lock broke several years ago and we never got it fixed.  There was never any reason to.  Why do you ask?"

"I'm just asking the questions that the police will ask.  I do have a feeling that when they dust for fingerprints, they won't find too much usable evidence."

"What makes you say that?"  Roxie asked.

He pointed to the glass.  Even without any enhancement, it was obvious there were a multitude of finger and handprints visible.

**********

" ... And how many people have access to the trophy cabinet?"  Detective Harry Kastile asked.

"Oh, about three or four hundred, give or take."  Roxie replied.  "This is the opening night of the St. Francis Hundred Year Celebration.  Most of the time, this hallway was packed with people."

"And nobody saw nothing ... Right?"

"I wouldn't know.  I didn't question every single one of them.  In fact, I didn't even discover the theft until most of them had already left for the evening."

Detective Kastile opened his briefcase and took out a form.  "If you'll fill this out and bring it to the Police building first thing Monday, we can wrap this up by Wednesday at the latest."

"What do you mean bring it to the station? Aren't you going to investigate this theft?  Dust for fingerprints?  Question witnesses?  And what's this for, anyway?"  Roxie said with a slightly bewildered look on her face.

"It's for your insurance company.  Actually, there isn't that much to investigate.  Like you yourself said, there are hundreds of people who could have gotten in here and taken the trophies.  If you want to give me a list of everyone who was here this evening, I'll see about talking to each of them, but I don't think that'll do much good.  As I see it, it's a simple case of mischievous vandalism.  Probably when the case was cleaned the last time, some student thought it would be a hoot to hide some of the trophies." 

"No.  That's not what happened.  I saw this cabinet not three hours ago and everything was there."

"Even so, it still could be just a prank.  They'll probably turn up in a couple of days.  If they don't, at least you'll have made police report for your insurance records.  If you find out anything more, give me a call and I'll see if there's enough evidence to warrant further investigation."

"Hrrumph!"  Roxie fumed.  "What am I paying taxes for?  We've had a robbery here and you ... you aren't going to do anything except have me fill out a piece of paper?"  She waved it under the detective's nose.

"Please, Sister.  Don't get all upset.  I realize that the trophies have a great deal of sentimental value to the school, but realistically, how much are they worth?  Two ... maybe three hundred dollars, at the most?  This is essentially a case of minor vandalism or at best, Pettit Theft."

**********

In the shadows, the figure slapped his fist into his other hand.  "No.  They just can't walk away like that."  He thought aloud.  "They've got to understand the significance of this.  It's my finest hour.  I won't let them take it from me that easily."

**********

"I don't believe this!"  Roxie seethed as she watched the detective drive away.  "They wouldn't do this in Los Angeles, would they?"  She asked Nick.

Nick hung his head.  "As a matter of fact, they probably would.  Detective Kastile is right.  With hundreds of possible suspects and without a clear culprit or motive, there isn't much that the police can do.  If you want, I'll check around and see what I can find out."

"I'd like that."

"It's getting late."  Toni said.  "I suggest that we all get a good night's sleep and tackle this first thing tomorrow evening."

**********

In the shadows, the figure smiled.  "That's a little more like it."  He whispered to no one.

**********

Nick sat poolside while the children frolicked in the shallow end.  While he knew that Nellie wanted desperately to join them, she had to beg off.  She had to rehearse for the Talent Show on Sunday.  Toni promised her that she would definitely get to go before they left.  He had halfheartedly joined Toni and the others for a while, but now he sat in the shadows, well away from any source of sunlight.  His mind was lost in deep thought.

"A penny for your thoughts."  Toni said as she sat down on the lounge chair next to him.

"It's your school Toni, and the only things missing were from your class.  Who do you know that could have it in for your class?"

Toni just shrugged.  "It's just too bizarre for me to even think about it."

"What about the class snob?  What's her name again?  Could she have taken them?"

"Claire?"  Toni shook her head.  "Not likely.  A lot of those trophies were hers.  Knowing her, she'd want everybody to see them and know how wonderful she was.  And still is ... at least in her mind.  No.  She wouldn't do it."

"What about somebody who has a grudge against her?"

"Do you want the full list?  Top ten?  Alphabetical or by category?"

"That many."

Toni nodded.  "She wasn't as popular as she thought.  The only reason anybody outside of her own snotty little group tolerated her at all was because they were afraid of Sister Maggie."

"Could any of them have done it?"

"Who knows."

"Let's go in a little early.  I want a chance to examine everything before anyone gets there."

"This theft really bothers you, doesn't it?"  Toni asked.

Nick nodded.  "I can see it has gotten to you as well.  And to Roxie.  She's a very good person.  I can see why you two were so close.   I really like her a lot and I don't want her worrying about this.  I want to find the person who did it and ... "

"And what?"

"I don't know."

"We can go now if you want.  I'm sure Mom won't mind watching the kids for a while.  I'll black out the windows in the van."

**********

They stopped at the case.  There, on the empty shelf was a note.  Printed in block letters, it read  'I DID IT.  NOW ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FIND ME.'  Nick carefully studied it.  It was written on plain typing paper with ballpoint pen.  It was possible there could be a fingerprint or two on it that might help him identify the culprit.  Carefully he picked it up and inserted it into a sheet protector that Toni had 'requisitioned'.  Nick didn't know where she got it ... and he didn't want to know either.  Something else on the shelf caught his attention.  To the naked eye, there didn't seem to be anything amiss, but to Nick's enhanced eyesight, it was readily apparent.  He took another sheet protector and dropped the almost minuscule specimen into it.

"What was that?"  Toni asked.

"I'm not sure.  It could have been a hair or possibly a fragment of fiber.  I'll know more when I examine it more closely.  Do you think Roxie would mind if I used a microscope from the Science lab?"

"I don't think she'll mind at all."  Roxie said.  Toni hadn't heard her approach, and she was surprised that Nick hadn't either.

"Well, then what are we waiting for."  Nick said.

**********

Roxie stopped as they passed the auditorium.  Inside, loud music was blaring from the speaker system.  She opened the door. 

There, on the stage was Nellie and Shana.  "Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad, Boys ... "  They sang, undulating their torsos and hips in unison.  "You make me feel so g-o-o-d ... "  Nellie crooned seductively into the mike.   Suddenly they noticed the others. 

"I ... Ah ... We ... Ah ... "  Shana stammered, blushing deeply.  She reached behind her and shut off the tape deck.  "Hello, Sister." 

"Ah ... Uncle Nick ... Ah ... Aunt Toni ... "  Nellie said in a small voice.  Her face was redder than her partner's.

"Aren't you supposed to be rehearsing your number for tomorrow?"  Roxie asked.

"We finished that, and we were ..."  Nellie faltered.

" ... We were just sort of goofing off."  Shana finished, blushing again.

"We didn't think anyone else was here."  Nellie added with a frustrated giggle.

"You know, that wasn't half bad."  Roxie said.  "In fact, if you want to do that one, you can."

Two teenage faces lit up like Christmas trees.  "You mean it, Sister?"

"As an encore, of course."

"Oh ... "  Two teenage faces dropped markedly.

"You'd really let them do that number?"  Toni asked as they continued to the Science room.

Roxie shook her head.  "They know as well as I do that there won't be any encores.  I've made that abundantly clear.  But, they really have talent and I don't want to discourage them.   Remember those horrible songs we had to do for the shows?"

"Uh. Huh.  By the way, what are Nellie and Shana doing."

"They're doing 'If I Never Stop Loving You' from the David Kersh album of the same name.  I left the choice of numbers up to the performers.  Knowing those two, and knowing Nellie's lineage ... she is your niece after all ... and from what I just saw ... I'm not at all certain they'll do it the way they rehearsed it.  Maybe I should make them do 'Side By Side'."

Toni winced.  That was one of those 'horrible songs' that Sister Magdalene made them perform in one of their shows.  "You couldn't be that cruel."

"I seem to recall a certain person who was supposed to sing 'The Lonely Goatherd' at a talent show and wound up doing 'Gypsies, Tramps And Thieves' instead."

Toni stared steadfastly at the ceiling.  "And I got a month's detention for it.  In addition to the thousand word essay on the 'Detrimental Effects of Suggestive Music on Teenage Behavior'."

***********

"Well?"  They said in unison as Nick bent over the microscope. 

"While this equipment isn't the best, and the lighting is poor ... no offense, Sister ... Still ..."

"I told you before, the name's Roxie.  And that's one of the reasons why we need the new science wing."

He nodded.  "I can understand that."  He gestured toward the scope.  "Toni, come take a look and see if you come to the same conclusions I do.  You're the Forensics expert, after all."

"I haven't done anything like that since the twins were born, but I'll have a look."  She picked up the note and placed it under a microscope.  She studied it carefully.

"Nothing on the paper.  Ordinary typing paper.  My guess is that it could have come from anywhere.  Writing is again an ordinary pen.  If you want to get really technical, I'd have to guess a Bic. I take it you've already dusted for prints?"

Nick nodded.  "Graphite worked very well.   The only prints on there are a few of mine here in the corner where I picked it up."   He pointed to several smudges.

"Our thief must have worn gloves.  This, however is something else."  She pointed to the specimen under the glass on another scope.  "Hair.  Definitely hair.  Red hair."

"So, our thief had red hair.  Now we're getting somewhere."  Roxie said with a smile.

"Maybe yes and maybe no."  Nick said.  "Just because this was in the cabinet does not necessarily mean it came from the thief.  It could have been from any redhead who had reason to be in the cabinet.  Maybe a student who was cleaning it.  Maybe someone who had put something in instead of taking something out.  Plus, there's no telling how long the hair has been in there."

"You do have a way of bursting a person's bubble, Detective."  Roxie said with a great deal of disappointment.

"I just don't want you to get your hopes up too high."

**********

He stood in the hallway listening to the conversation.  It was not a big thing for him to wait for them to return to the school.  After all, it's not like he had anything else to do.  He knew that the blond detective could not resist the mystery.  They didn't catch on to the significance of the hair or the note, though.  He would have to leave them more clues.

**********

As they passed the tiny computer room, they heard a familiar voice. 

"LaCroix, what are you doing here at this time of the day?"  Toni asked.

"I had Robyn bring me. And you were correct, Nicholas.  The trunk in a Cadillac is quite roomy."

"What's that all about?"  Roxie looked at Nick with a furrowed brow.

"It's a private joke."  Toni explained.  "Both Nick and LaCroix have a sun allergy.  Several times, Nick has had to ride in the trunk of his car because of it.  LaCroix teases him about it at every opportunity."

"Oh."  

"I had to revise my monologue for tonight and I knew that the school had a voice E-mail on their computer.  I have already contacted KLAC and they are ready to record it."  He handed a sheet to Nicholas.  "Here, read it and tell me what you think."

"Tonight's topic my children ... is rejection.  I am not talking about the occasional rebuffs that we all incur at one time or another in our lives.  I am talking about the chronic rejection that some individuals experience almost from the time they are born. 

Do you know that rejection, Gentle Listeners?  Have you experienced the kind of rejection that robs a person of his or her dreams; his or her pride; his or her self worth. 

This rejection, many times, is not based on anything that the individual has or has not done.  Most of the time, it is based solely on some external quality that the individual has little, or in most cases, no control over.  It could be his or her heritage.  Who were his or her ancestors and / or where did they originate?  It could be geographic.  Is the person from a different part of town, or perhaps a different state, or even a different country?  Economic considerations are another source of rejection.  Is he or she considered poor or indigent?   Is the person's IQ high enough?  Is he or she the same race? Religion?  What about physical differences?  Height ... Weight ... Hair or eye color?  Handicaps?  The list goes on and on.  Sometimes there does not appear to be a discernable reason for these actions.

What does that rejection do to a person?  Does it make him or her a better person?  In some rare cases, it might, but in the majority of circumstances, particularly when the person has no control over the cause, it can destroy the person.  Not physical destruction, although suicide is not uncommon.  I am talking about he destruction of the inner person.   The person withdraws.  He or she becomes bitter, perhaps even hateful.  In some instances, these feelings are translated into actions.  In many cases, they will not only lash out at themselves, but at innocent victims as well.

Why does someone, or a group of people, do this to another person?  Is it to assuage their own feelings of inferiority?  In many cases, yes.  In some, it is merely the reflection of the prejudices they themselves were taught.  In most cases, here is no detectable reason for one person to harass and taunt another in this manner.

Search your hearts, my children.  Do you see yourself in any of any of the above scenarios ... either as a rejecter or as a rejectee?   Do you know how it feels to be on the receiving end of someone's mockery?  What can you do to reverse the effects of these actions?  What is the solution, my dear children? 

Unfortunately, my dear children, the Nightcrawler has no answers.  I wish I did.  I wish there was some incantation or action that would turn those insults and derisions into praise and admiration.  But there isn't.  Until tomorrow then.  Always remember this.   The Nightcrawler loves you ... and I always will ... no matter what. "

**********

The student waiter cleared the dishes from the table.  During the day, the gym had been transformed into a very realistic representation of a posh nightclub, complete with dimmed lighting and appropriate music, courtesy of the student orchestra.  The menu, which was catered, but created by the students, would have done any number of five star restaurants proud.

Most of the Alumni were in elegant dress for the dance that was to follow.  Toni, Robyn, Sherry, and company were no exception, although LaCroix had groused that he could not wear his tie and tails and had to settle for a tuxedo.  Joel and Annette Peterson were also at their table.

The younger children of the alumni, including Toni's,  were enjoying a 'sleep over' in one of the classrooms which was being used as a babysitting room.

At the head table was Sister Grace, as well as the rest of the faculty.  Also at that table was the oldest living graduate, 92 year old Matilda Temple of the class of 1927.  There was also Sylvia Grant, a direct descendant of Charity Penfort, one of the seven in that first graduating class.  Sylvia was a freshman and the seventh generation to attend St. Francis.

After the dinner was over, Roxie and Vince had joined the group.

"Just for the sake of argument."  Nick was saying.  "Let's suppose that the thief was a redhead.  Also, since the only things taken belonged to the class of '87, it's likely that he or she was a member of that class at one time.  Where does that lead us?"   

"Nicholas, you're still running true to form, I see."  LaCroix interjected.  "You are like the old firehouse dog.  You cannot leave a crime unsolved, no matter how hopeless or insignificant it is."

"It is not insignificant."  Nick retorted.  "These trophies are a source of pride and prestige to the school as well as the people who earned them.  If I can help find them, I will."

"And a hundred years from now, what difference will it make in the grand scheme of things?"

"Probably none, but here and now, it's very important."

LaCroix started to say something, but a withering scowl from Robyn silenced him. 

"He has a point there."  Roxie said.  "Those awards mean a lot to us, and I, for one, am glad that he thinks enough of us to want to help."  She glared defiantly at LaCroix.  He only nodded imperceptibly 

"Would you care to dance?"  He asked, holding his hand to Robyn. 

"I think we had better."  She took it and they went to the floor.

"I have a feeling that your father just chose the diplomatic way out of a very sticky situation."  Ron said to Nick.  "I know I wouldn't want to tangle with the angry side of Sister Grace ... or our mother-in-law.  If you combined the two ... "  He shook his head slowly and rolled his eyes upward.

"The culprit could also be somebody who has a grudge against the class."  Sherry suggested, quickly changing the subject.

"Or maybe he or she feels cheated by the accomplishments of one or more persons."  Vince chimed in.

"So."  Toni said.  "How many redheads were there in our class?"

"As I remember it, there were six."  Joel said.

"Seven!"  He whispered.  He had deliberately seated himself at the next table to keep an eye on their progress.  Even here he was still the odd man out.  All the others had companions except him.  "There were seven of us with red hair."

"Sister ... "  One of the student waiters whispered in Roxie's ear.   "I think you'd better come with me.  There's something in your office you should see."

**********

"There ... Through the window.  See what I mean?"  The student said as Roxie fumbled through her purse for the office keys.  The door was locked.  No question about that.

On the wall opposite her desk, someone had sprayed in red paint '87 SUCKS!'

"That fries it!"  Roxie fumed.  "How did whoever-it-was get into a locked office in the first place, and who would have the gahones to spray paint my wall."

"I think we can definitely narrow it down to the class of '87."  Ron said.

"I agree."  Toni added.  "Roxie, you have a copy of the yearbook here?"

"Not here, but there should be one in the library.  In the meantime, let me give one of the detention students the opportunity to earn couple of 'Atta Boys' by getting this ... "  She pointed to the graffiti.   " ... off my wall."

"Atta Boys?"  Toni queried.

"It's something I devised to remove the demerits from their record ... sort of like good deeds removing the punishment of sins."

"Where were those things when we went to school?"

"That's what made me think of them in the first place."

"Well, what are you people going to do about this ... this atrocity?"  Claire Siefert demanded from the doorway to the office. 

Roxie looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"I'm talking about the removal of all my trophies from the case.  I know it was deliberately done.  You never did like me and now you are using this reunion to humiliate me in front of the entire Alumni Association."

"I don't know what you are talking about.  The trophies were stolen and we're doing everything we can to recover them."

"Sure you are.  That's a good story, but I'm not buying it."  Claire's face became hard and cynical.  "I'm giving you fair warning.  If those trophies aren't back in the case by the end of the evening, you can kiss your new Krause Science Wing goodbye."  With that, she turned and left.

"Does she think everything revolves around her?"  Nick asked.

"Yup."  Toni said.  "She's a typical spoiled daddy's little princess.  Always was and always will be.  By the way, Roxie, since when did you start kissing up to Claire Krause?  We always had our own ways to raise money."

"Since we desperately need the new wing.  I know Claire isn't exactly doing it for humanitarian reasons ...it's a huge tax write-off, but as the saying goes, don't look a gift horse ...  Besides, we can't raffle off Sister Frankie anymore.  She died three years ago.  In my fantasies I win the Lotto or that millionaire game show.  Then I tell Mrs. Snotty Face to put her donation where she'd have a hard time explaining it to the intern at the Emergency Room."

"Rochelle Lefler!  Such thoughts."  Joel said in mock horror.

"Yeah.  I know."  She grinned.  "But it's cleaner than some of the other things I could fantasize doing to her."

**********

" ... And here's number four.  John McAuley.  He had the reddest hair of anyone I know."  Toni said, pointing to one of the pictures in the book.

"I don't think he's the one."  Sherry said. "He's practically bald now and besides, he's nearly two hundred seventy five pounds and the closest thing to a slug in these parts.  I'm sure somebody would have seen him."

"Okay.  What about Penny Trent?"

"She's a blonde now."

"And Jeff Styverson?"

"Didn't you see him at the welcoming party?  He's in a wheelchair ... Desert Storm."

"Oh ... "

Well, that's all the redheads, and none of them fit the profile.  I guess we're back to square one."  Roxie said with a dejected look.

"Not quite."  Ron said.  "What about him?"  He pointed to another picture.

"Martin Cerofsky?   I don't remember him."  Roxie said.

"Neither did I when we looked at my yearbook."  Toni added.

"Don't look at me."  Joel proclaimed.

"Let's see what his records have to say."  Roxie headed for the door.

"Finally."  He said from the hall.

**********

Roxie sneezed several times as she entered the storeroom.  "Haven't... (Achoo) ... been down here since the three of us were caught smoking in our junior year ... (Achoo) ... Remember, we accidentally set off the ... (Achoo) ... fire alarms."  She said between sneezes.  She paused and surveyed the stacks of file boxes that were perched on shelves lining the walls.  "There it is.  On the top shelf ... 1987.  Ron ...(Achoo) ... Nick ... Can you ...(Achoo) ... ?"

Ron and Nick managed to wrestle the box from the shelf.  Nick could have easily done it himself, but he gladly accepted his brother-in-law's help.

There was another round of sneezes as Roxie and Toni wiped the dust from the lid.  "Well, I just found me another 'Atta Boy' project."  Roxie mused as they carried it to her office.

**********

"Cerofsky, Martin L."  Roxie read from the Student Record sheet.  "According to this, he was basically a C student.  President of the Philatelic society ... Stamp Collectors for those who don't know.  There were only three members.  It only lasted a year.  Was a member of the Chess team in his sophomore year, but he resigned after the first semester.  Not a good player, according to the notation here.  No other extra curricular activities listed.  No honors either.  His parents were average.  His father was an accountant with the city budget department and his mother was a stay at home housekeeper.  He had no known friends." 

"He most fits the profile for our thief."  Sherry said.

"Is he even here tonight?"  Toni asked.

"I don't know.  Why don't we go back to the party and find out."  Roxie said.

**********

As they entered the gym / nightclub, the music of 'Staying Alive' blared from the orchestra.

"Disco?"  Toni asked. 

"The band decided that they would include several selections from every era."  Roxie explained.  "That way as many of the alumni as possible could do their thing."

Sure enough, the floor was crowded.  However, no one seemed to be dancing.  They were all just standing in a loose circle.  The group gently pushed their way to the edge of the crowd.  There, in the center, Robyn and LaCroix moved in near perfect unison to the beat.  As the number drew to an end, LaCroix fell to his knees and slid to Robyn.  In one fluid motion, he rose, drew her to him and twirled her around.  For the last measure, he pulled her into a deep dip across his knee and held it.  Slowly, they rose and took a low bow to the enthusiastic applause from the onlookers.

"Your mother is fantastic."  LaCroix said as they sat down at their table.   

"You forget."  Robyn said.  "That's my era, and John Travolta was my idol.  I think I must have seen 'Saturday Night Fever' at least twenty times.  The dollar movies were one of the few luxuries I could afford.  But how about you?  Where'd you learn to dance like that?"

"Who do you think taught John Travolta?"  LaCroix said with a sly grin.

"You ...?"  Toni asked.

"No, but I knew the man who did."  He said with a mischievous twinkle.

Just then, the band began a slow dance.

"Now this is more my style."  Nick said as he extended his hand to Toni.  She accepted and they headed for the dance floor, quickly joined by Ron and Sherry.

LaCroix motioned to Robyn. 

"No thank you."  She said, barely above a whisper.  "You may have the vampire's stamina, but I'm just a poor unfortunate mortal.  I'm still winded from that last dance."

"That can be changed, you know."  He whispered back.

Annette leaned to Joel and murmured something.  Suddenly he rose and helped her to her feet.  "Give my apologies to everyone, but my wife thinks that the baby is coming.  I'd better get her to the hospital right away.  The last one was here in just a little over twelve hours after labor started."

" ... And you thought that de Brabant babies had the corner on untimely births."  Nick said when Robyn told him.

**********

He watched the couples on the dance floor.  "I guess I should be thankful I don't have a partner."  He whispered, barely audible.  "Especially since I don't know how to dance."  He became aware that someone was tapping his shoulder.  He looked up and straight into the eyes of Rochelle Lefler, now known as Sister Mary Grace.

"Would you care to dance with me?"  She asked.

I ... Ah ... I can't.  Nuns aren't supposed to dance.  Are they, Sister?"  He stammered.

She smiled.  "Yes, Martin.  Nuns certainly are allowed to dance.  And I'd like to dance with you."

His face became redder than his hair.  Awkwardly, he took her hand and led her to the floor.  "Left ... two ... three ... Right ... two ... three."  He whispered as he stiffly counted the steps to the fox trot.  The only problem was that the number was a ballad.

"Would you like to go somewhere a little less public?"  Roxie asked.

"SISTER!"

"I mean, how about if we go into the hallway."

"Oh."  He stopped dancing and nervously placed his hand in the small of her back and led her to the door.

From the dance floor, Nick saw them leave and edged Toni toward the same door.  As unobtrusively as possible, Ron, Sherry, Vince, LaCroix and Robyn made their way to the hall as well.

Roxie led Martin to the trophy case.  "You took them, didn't you?"  She asked.

"Took what?"  Martin said with a feigned innocent look on his face

"Don't play innocent with me."  Roxie said sternly.  "You're talking to a pro.  I'm one of the people that hold the patent for that pseudo-cherubic look."

"I ... ah ... "  Martin hung his head and blushed vividly.

"Let's go in the office and talk.

**********

Martin and Roxie sat on opposite sides of the desk.  Nick, Toni and the others stood at the back of the office.

"Why?"  Toni asked.

"Why not."  He said rather defiantly.  "Claire Krause was the most popular girl in the school.  You were the smartest. Joel Peterson was an accomplished magician.  Bob Messida was the school jock, and Vinnie Caligari had girls falling all over him.  None of you even knew I existed.  I didn't even have a nickname.  All anyone ever did was pick on me.  Look how long it took you to figure out that I'm the culprit.  I just wanted to do something to get noticed.  Something that, years from now someone will say 'look what good ol' Marty Cerofsky from the class of '87 did.'  Do you know what it's like to be the school nobody?  Once, just once before I die, I want to be a somebody."

"Martin ... Marty, you are a somebody.  Everyone gets their chance sooner or later.  There's an old saying ... something about everybody having fifteen minutes of fame.  Just be patient.  Your time will come."  Nick advised.

Martin slowly shook his head.  "I don't think so.  I'm running out of time.  You see, last year, I was diagnosed with Amyotropic Lateral Sclerosis or ALS ... Lou Gherig's disease.  They give me two to four years.  Six at the most.  Now I'll probably be spending my remaining days in jail."

"You better believe that."  Claire Siefert said as she entered the office.  "I saw all of you leave the party and I thought there was something funny going on, so I decided to follow.  It's a good thing I did.  I want the police called and I want him arrested!"  She demanded.

"Claire."  Roxie said softly.  "If you were in the hall, you must have heard what he said."

"I did, and it doesn't change a thing.  He stole the trophies and he has to pay for it."  She turned to Martin.  "Do you realize you humiliated me in front the whole school?"  She shook her finger in his face.  "You'll pay dearly for that."

"Claire!"  Toni shouted.  "For God's sake!  Be reasonable.  The man's dying.  Isn't that punishment enough?"

"Atonia, my dear, you always did let emotion cloud your thinking.  Rochelle, If he's not in jail within two hours, there will be no more contributions from the Krause family.  Ever. You know what that will mean.  Without the endowments from Daddy and me, this school would be drowning in red ink. In addition, I'll send Tiffi to Mount Nazareth.  I'm sure THEY will appreciate my generosity.   What is more important to you?  The new science wing or this ... this ... nobody.  Think about it Sister Mary Grace.  I expect you to do the right thing."   She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Roxie leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily.  "She has a point, you know.  The school has been operating at a loss for several years now.  Between budget cuts and caps on tuitions, there just isn't enough ready cash to go around.  If it wasn't for her family bailing us out big time on several occasions, we would have had to close the doors.

Of course, I can't find it in my heart to send Marty, here, to jail either.  I can understand why he did what he did, and maybe if he returns the trophies, Claire will back down.  Of course, it will mean some industrial strength  sucking up on my part, but if that's the price I have to pay, well ... "  She puckered her lips several times.  "Now I know why Sister Magdalene did what she did."

"Don't do it, Roxie."  Nick said.  "Something will turn up.  You'll see."

"Perhaps I can help defray the cost of the new wing."  LaCroix pulled his checkbook out of his jacket pocket.  "I am not without considerable means.  How much do you need?"

"The wing will cost about half a million, and that's just for starters."

"Oh, well."  LaCroix said as signed the check with a flourish.  "It's only money."  He handed it to her.

"And I think I can get my people to donate the computers and probably much of the other equipment as well."  Robyn added.

"Mr. LaCroix!"  Roxie stammered.  "This check isn't filled out completely.  You left the amount blank!"

"So I did."  He said with a smile.  "So I did."

"And although I am not particularly wealthy, " Nick lied.  "The director of the De Brabant Foundation is a relative of mine.  I think Monsieur de Brabant can be persuaded to earmark an ongoing grant for the school's operating expenses.  And I don't think he'll mind a bit if we call it the Martin Cerofsky Memorial Fund."

"You'd do that for me?"  Martin said, his eyes misting.

Nick nodded.  "Yes, I would.  Although it was wrong, it took a lot of courage and moxie to do what you did.  Now you will be remembered in a positive way, and for a lot longer that you would be for this harebrained stunt.  Isn't that a lot better?  Next question, where did you hide the trophies?"

Martin smiled softly.  "Really, detective.  That would be cheating.  You've solved the case this far, why not go the whole way.  I'll give you a hint.  They're hiding in a very hot spot, and that's really cool sometimes."

"Hot and cool ... Hot and cool ... Where is it hot and cool?"  Toni and Roxie mumbled.

"Of course!"  Toni exclaimed.

"The ventilation system!"  Sherry finished.

"THE FURNACE ROOM!"  Nearly everyone shouted together.

Martin only nodded, a self satisfied smile on his face.  "I knew you could figure it out."

"You attacked Stavros Zuratocic, didn't you."  Nick stated.  "If he had hit the pipe, the gash would have been on the forehead, not on the back of his head.

"No.  I didn't attack him.  He really did bump his head on the pipes.  The injury was to the back because he was looking for me when he backed into the pipe.  I was going to get help for him.  I swear.  Then I heard the girls coming and I knew that he would be all right, so I left."

"But how did you get in and out of there?  That door is kept locked."  Roxie said.

"Through the walls!"  Toni replied.  "He had to go through the vents.  Don't you remember?  We used to do it all the time.  He probably got in and out of your office the same way."

Martin nodded, smiling.

**********

Roxie waited by the trophy cabinet. She didn't have to wait very long.  Claire Siefert was one of the first persons out of the chapel where Monsignor Caligari and Father Hertz, the school Chaplain, were saying a Mass of Celebration.

"Well, Sister Mary Grace!"  The way Claire said her name, it was almost like an epithet.  "I see you chose to ignore my demands.  Martin Cerofsky is still a free man.  I knew you had no spine, so I guess I'll have to press charges against him myself."    

"For what?"  Roxie said with as much innocence as she could muster.

"For theft, of course."

"What was stolen?"  Roxie pointed to the second shelf.  There, clean and shiny, was every trophy for the class of '87.  "If you do press charges, I'll testify for him.  In addition, I'll also have six unimpeachable witnesses who will swear that the trophies were never missing in the first place.  That you made the whole thing up.  Then I'll see to it that Marty sues you for harassment.  Why don't we go into my office?  I'm sure you don't want to make a scene out here.  Not with all of the Alumni Association looking on."

There was a small crowd gathering and more coming out of the chapel.

"I see."  Claire said as she followed Roxie into the principal's office.  She waited until the door was shut before continuing.  "Very well.  I meant what I said yesterday.  As of this moment, I am withdrawing my pledge for the science wing.  Furthermore, I am going to inform my accountants ... and Daddy's accountants as well ... to discontinue all financial support for this school and any and all of its projects. I HAVE seen the fiscal statements, you know.  The school is nearly broke.  We'll see just how long you can continue to operate without money!"  She gloated.

"Apparently we'll be operating for a very long time."  Roxie replied.  "You see, Toni's husband and her father-in-law have volunteered to finance the school.  From what I understand, their resources are virtually limitless.  And, unlike yours, their gifts are without strings of any kind.  So you can take your petty little threats and shove them where the sun will never shine. Literally!"

"Well!  I never ... !"  Claire sputtered.

"Maybe that's your problem."  Roxie said.  "Maybe somebody should have told you to naff off a long time ago.  Believe me, It really feels good, after all the years of kissing up to your big fat white hiney for every single dime, to tell you just what I actually think of you."

"Maybe you won't feel so good when Mother Superior hears about this ... And the bishop!"

"Mother Agnes already knows.  I told her this morning.  She concurs completely.  And as for the bishop, I'm sure that between Mother Agnes, and Vince ... Monsignor Caligari that is ... and myself ... we can convince him that I am doing what is best for St. Francis."

Claire pulled her mink wrap tightly around her shoulders and huffed out of the office.

" ... And that's when I'll discover that revenge is sweet ... "  Toni sang softly from the doorway.  "That's my girl.  Way to go, Roxie."  She said, hugging her.

"What have I just done."  Roxie said, her face draining to a pasty beige color.  "What if Monsieur de Brabant doesn't come through.  What if it's not enough?  What if ... "

"Don't worry."  Toni said putting her arm around her best friend.  "Nick ... ah ... talked to Monsieur de Brabant last night and the funds could possibly be in the St. Francis account by now."

Roxie went to her desk and turned on the computer.  In a few minutes, she had pulled up the online bank account for the school.  "There's ... " Her eyes bugged out and she swallowed hard.  " ... HOW MUCH ... !"

**********

Toni hugged Nellie and Shana.  They had performed their number basically as they had been rehearsing it, although Toni was certain that some of their moves did not have Sister Mary Grace's complete stamp of approval on them.  Roxie was wrong, though.  The duo was not just good, they were awesome.  They weren't the only superb talent in the show, either.  Every act was outstanding, and the whole thing was very professionally done.  Toni made a mental note to contact a few talent scouts she knew about paying a visit to the school.   

They headed from the auditorium to the gym.  There was another buffet set up, although this one was for good-byes, not hello's.

Toni and Robyn made their way through the crowd amid hugs and promises to keep in touch.  Claire Siefert was conspicuously absent.

Marty Cerofsky was there, though.  He hugged Toni and Nick alternately.  "The strangest thing happened last night.  When I got home, there was a message from my doctor.  It seems I have been chosen to participate in some testing of the drug Rilutek at the University of Chicago.  While there is no cure, Rilutek is one of the best chances to stop the progress of the disorder, and Chicago University Hospital is one of the leading ALS research centers.  The treatments are free and I'll even be paid a modest sum for being a guinea pig.  Can you beat that?"

"See, I told you good things might happen if you just be patient."  Nick said with a huge smile.  "If this works out, we just might have to drop the 'Memorial' from the name of the fund."

"I would really like that."

Just then, the loudspeaker came to life.  "I have just received a call from Joel Peterson of the class of '87."  Roxie said.  "He informed me that Joel Michael Peterson Junior made his entrance into the world at 8:47 PM today.  Weight 7 pounds 3 ounces.  Height 18 and 1/2 inches.  Father and son doing well."

A cheer went up from everyone in the school.

**********

"Well."  Toni said as they walked to their car. She locked an arm around her husband and her father-in-law.  "I see certain people have been busy little vampires."

"Whatever do you mean, Atonia?"  LaCroix asked, looking up at the night sky.

"You ... for openers.  I did not think you were the altruistic type, yet you offered to finance the science wing without a moment's hesitation."

"If you spread that around, I will have no choice but to drain you."  He replied, giving her a slight hug.  "I had the distinct impression that, had I not done anything, Robyn would have made my ... unlife ... thoroughly miserable."

"I thought anything religious played havoc with your karma."  Nick teased.

"Normally, it does.  But the thought of what your friend would say, if she knew that one of the Catholic School's most prominent financial supporters was a two thousand year old pagan vampire, was too exquisite to pass up."

"You wouldn't tell her, would you?"  Toni exclaimed.

LaCroix only smiled softly and shook his head imperceptibly.  "But it is an interesting concept, just the same?"

"And what about you, husband mine.  I saw that bank balance.  That's enough to keep six schools the size of St. Francis going for the next century."

"I figured that after so many years of scrimping and penny pinching, Roxie could use a little 'mad money'."  He said with a wide grin.   "Don't worry, the next installments will be much more reasonable."

And what about Marty ....  I know one of you, or maybe both of you, arranged that, too."

"Actually, it was Dr. Lambert ... Natalie who suggested that." LaCroix explained.  "Naturally, when I called Dr. Nichols and told him of the plans, he agreed.  After that, it was only a matter of contacting some of my ... ah ... colleagues on the staff of the University of Chicago Medical Center." 

"Of course, the De Brabant Foundation has heavily underwritten the research into ALS, as well as many other incurable disorders for quite a few years."  Nick added.  "That fact did not go unnoticed when Martin Cerofsky's name was put before them as a possible test subject."

**********

Nick, Toni and the others watched in fascination as Nellie and her friends frolicked in the hotel pool.  It was LaCroix, of all people, who suggested that they give a pool party for her entire class.  A few well placed 'suggestions' persuaded the manager to allow this, even though it was strictly against hotel policy.  Roxie needed no persuasion.  In fact, she was lounging on one of the poolside chairs.  Quite a few of her students' eyes popped when she exited the dressing room wearing an ice blue lame bathing suit that hugged her slender body tightly.

"I may be a Sister, but I am also a woman."  Was her explanation.

"I wish you could stay longer.  I really enjoyed the last few days."  She said.  "Also, Mr. LaCroix, it will give me an opportunity to go over the blueprints for the LaCroix Science Wing with you.  You know, to see if there are any changes you want to make."

"You call it that, and I will drain ... I will stop payment on the check.  Call the wing anything you like, but do not use my name.  I wish to remain totally anonymous."

"As you say, but this is very extraordinary.  Most contributors, particularly ones who give what you did, would want their names on their projects."

 "I am a very extraordinary man."

< In more ways than you could guess. >  Toni thought.

"What about calling it the AFO-OFA wing?"  Robyn smiled.

"AFO-OFA."  Roxie mused. "Somehow, that seems very appropriate.  Good.  Then it's settled.  The AFO-OFA Science Wing it is.  I'll even put up a plaque explaining the origin of the name."

**********

Toni hung up the phone.  "Yes ... Yes ... Yes ... "  She wiggled her hips and pointed her fingers in the air.

"What was that all about?"  Nick asked.

"That was the publishers.  And they are ecstatic.  I finally submitted my sketches of Deidre for Jim's book.   They said that this was exactly what they were looking for. They said I had captured the essence of the character perfectly.  That she was pure meanness and evil.  A perfect self centered witch."

"I thought you had an artists block on that."

"I did, but on the plane back from Columbus, I had an inspiration and I knew I had found my villianess.  I drew her and sent it in, and they loved her ... or is that hated her.  Anyway, they want me to do the full cover, as well as all the advertising." 

She held up a sheet of bristol board.  On it, with only a few minor alterations, was the portrait of Claire Krause Siefert.

**********

The End.

That's what you think