Chess not Checkers
Previously: Jeannie and Mark visit Xavier Prep and begin by chatting with Brother Driscoll.
11:55 AM - Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Xavier Prep, Outer Richmond District, San Francisco
“That, I couldn’t tell you.” The Jesuit said. “Bad investments? Other payoffs or settlements we don’t know about? I’m not sure.”
“Other payoffs?” Jeannie ventured, “do you think he’s the kind of man to have a gambling problem, or some kind of an addiction?” Jeannie’s eyebrow shot up like a dart.
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Why do you say that, brother?” Mark asked softly. The old man turned to him.
“You get a good sense of people when you’ve been in my job. My job, that is, both as a Jesuit and as the Dean of a prep school - I had both in one.” He heaved a deep sigh, the cardigan settling a little further down his shoulders. “You get to know kids, you get to know parents; you know parents through their kids and vice-versa. Now, Jim Hartman’s boys have always been trouble which leads me to think maybe there’s something happening at home.”
“Well, that was pretty clear with Nathan, wasn’t it?” Jeannie’s tone was short. The old man turned toward her slightly, nearly rolling his eyes.
“Jean, whatever you’re thinking I did or didn’t do there, you’re wrong. We all tried to help Nathan, his mother was especially concerned — she saw the tension between him and his father and stopped it most of the time.”
“Most? I was wondering about her. Where is Mrs Hartman, anyways? She stopped it with Nathan but what about Tripp? If a father, as you say was “trouble”, it doesn’t stop with just one kid.” Jeannie was stoney-faced. Brother Driscoll looked at her but said nothing. “That’s what I thought.” She said quietly. “So the mother kind of allows it to happen — she’s either helpless, in denial —”
“Or getting abused herself.” The old man countered. They looked at each other silently. Mark could see a multitude of follow-ups passing across Jeannie’s features, all being discarded for one unspoken reason or another.
“Okay, brother, what about the son between Nathan and Tripp?” Mark asked.
“Ah - Evan. Not as angry as Nathan, nor as devious as Tripp. I think he’s probably about to finish college. I think he went on to Notre Dame.”
“Did he have any kind of issues here?”
“No - not remarkable, really. Smart enough to get by and get into a good college, but I’m sure there was a donation attached to that too. He kept to himself, played football and basketball, I think — it’s been a few years. I do remember him being a smart-ass, and landing in detention from time to time, but nothing notable. Smoking in the yard, dress code violations - that kind of thing.”
“So, the middle son kept his head down and avoided notice so he could get out of town. Seems like he’s more than smart enough.”
“Well,” the old man breathed, “I just hope he stays well-enough away. I hate to reveal anything confidential between myself and Nathan, but when I visited him in the Youth Authority a few years ago he had a tremendous guilt about his younger brothers, that he wouldn’t be there to protect them, that sort of thing, but he wouldn’t go back. He, and I, both hope they’ll get away and stay gone.”
“So you know where Nathan is?” Mark asked.
“I do. But you won’t get that out of me. He doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in this because of his brother and father.”
“We agree on that.” Mark assured him. The all stood silently for a long moment. “I think, Jeannie, we should go into the school.” Jeannie nodded shortly.
“If you don’t mind, Agent Greenberg, I’d like to speak with Jean for a moment.” Mark nodded and with a glance at Jeannie, walked away toward the doors to the building.
“I know you’re angry, Jean.” Brother Driscoll began when they were alone. Jeannie sighed, not knowing what to say.
“I’m angry that a school as rich and powerful in the community as this one, is just like any other school when it comes to following the money, even if it means putting their students at risk. I’m angry that a girl is dead because a student that goes here hosted a party where there were illegal drugs. I’m angry that that student’s father also provided alcohol to minors at that party, and I’m angry that father beats his children, yes. And I’m angry that nature and nurture is a thing, because with any other parent, those Hartman boys wouldn’t be so fucked up, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” The old man’s smile bloomed at her profanity, revealing straight tobacco-stained teeth.
“I’m angry about it too, Jeannie, but we can all only do so much, you know. All we can do here is give kids — rich or poor — the intellect to grow themselves out of their circumstances, like you did.”
“Me?” Jeannie’s face contorted in confusion.
“Yes, you went from law into law enforcement. You pivoted. You grew. You may not see it that way right now, but it’s true. Your father said you were devastated to fail the bar,” Jeannie huffed, “and that’s understandable, but you moved ahead and translated your skills into something else. “Teach me to serve you as you deserve1…” You know the rest.” Jeannie nodded. “And the job you have now is going to make you angry, but it’s what you do with your anger, how you react that matters.”
“Oh, you’re a Buddhist now?” Brother Driscoll gave a deep chuckle from his gut.
“We’re not that far off you know. St Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises are fairly close on the foodchain to Buddhism, wouldn’t you say?” He gestured to the large statue standing over them. Jeannie nodded again. “Maybe it’s time for a re-read?”
“Well, I probably shouldn’t admit this to you, Dan, but I’m not very Catholic these days.” Jeannie admitted, noticing she didn’t even feel guilty saying it. “And, I scarcely have time to read anything these days.”
“You have to make time, time for yourself, time for Christopher. And how are your brothers?”
“Brandon and Orla are great…PJ is…well, he’s going through something. He’s incredibly nasty these days, picking fights, not spending time with Dad. I told him to go to therapy.”
“He misses your mother.”
“We all do.”
“Yes, we all do.” Brother Dan Driscoll and Maevy had been friends even before Jean and her brothers attended Xavier. She knew he felt the loss of the friendship deeply. They were silent, listening to the fountain gurgle. “Would - well…I’ve heard about your father’s stroke. Would he be upset if I visited him?” Jeannie made a barely audible noise in reply.
“Um - let me ask him, okay? I’ll get you a message either way. I think he’s coming around to visitors.” The Jesuit nodded shortly. “I - I need to catch up to Mark, we have a lot to get done today. Please keep our talk between us, I know how rumors fly around here and we need to keep everything locked down right now.” He nodded again.
“Yes of course.” The both stood and Jeannie embraced him. “Please be careful, Jean. Jim Hartman is ruthless. To be honest, I think the board let the whole money thing happen the way it did because they didn’t know what kind of a wild card he’d be if he didn’t get his way.”
“I understand. Someone has to stand up to him, though.”
“I’m not sure it needs to be you.” Jeannie offered him a half smile at that remark.
“I agree, but here I am: to fight and not to heed the wounds…”
“Oh, very good, but be smart. Play chess, not checkers.” She nodded.
“I’ll be in touch soon.” She began walking away toward the doors.
“Bless you, my dear.” Jeannie pretended she didn’t hear it.
Paco was at his desk gobbling a sandwich when Amanda sent him a message asking if he’d want to join her on a look-over of the Ecology Trail. By the time they arrived at the small parking lot at Inspiration Point, the fog had cleared and golden sunlight lit the windows of the houses in Presidio Heights.
“Okay, where are we starting?” Paco asked.
“Let’s go down to the rock again, but what I want to do is head north to where the trail meets the redwood grove? You know where we found Seb Podesta’s jacket in the garbage can?” Paco nodded as they made their way down the trail stairs from the parking lot. “I don’t know what it is, but I guess I just have a feeling like I need to look it over again.”
“I get it - it’s a hunch.” Amanda giggled a little.
“Yeah, we all get them.” Paco toted the small evidence kit for them.
“Yes, but - remember the photo we found on Alexa’s phone? The first one? The creepy one with the wolf mask? I think it was taken over there. There’s not a lot of detail in the photo, but I want to try it.”
“And the wolf masks were all found in the redwood grove.” They crunched around to the left past the big rounded rock mass that had served as the location for Tripp Hartman’s “after party” on Halloween. The trail narrowed and went up a small rise before descending sharply. Blackberry encroached on both sides as the path wound down.
“Do you guys have any idea who wore those wolf masks?” Amanda asked as they made their way along slowly. She was looking outward over the waves of thick blackberry to see if anything was out of the ordinary.
“No, nothing firm as of yet, but we have some ideas. Hopefully Jeannie and Mark will get something more concrete this afternoon.”
“Hopefully we will too.” Amanda said slowly, her footsteps slowing. They were close to the juncture of the two trails: where the Ecology Trail split with the trail offshoot passing the redwood grove and landing at the base of the hill about 50 yards from El Polin Spring.
“What do you see?”
“Maybe nothing, but let’s slow down from here…I have that spidey sense right now and I need to listen to it.”
The Prayer of St Ignatius of Loyola