The Amboy Dukes by Irving Shulman

Author:Irving Shulman [Shulman, Irving]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, suspense, crime
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2012-08-04T08:21:04+00:00

Chapter 8

The hum of conversation ceased as Detective Lieutenant Macon walked into the conference room at the Liberty Avenue police station. There were approximately ten uniformed policemen and thirty-five detectives in the room, and they filed into the straight rows of seats as Detective Macon slid into his chair behind the desk on the raised platform. Behind him on the blackboards were two chalk drawings of the New Lots Vocational High School. One drawing was an aerial view of the ground plan of the school, showing the schoolyards and the entrances to the school. The other drawing was a floor plan of the second floor of the school.

“All right, men,” Macon began the discussion, “you know why we’re here. The mayor and police commissioner have given us orders to break this case or else. And”—he cleared his throat—“I don’t want to think about that or else while pounding a beat in Staten Island.”

Macon waited for the movement of laughter to subside before he continued. “Now what’ve we got? One tough high school and one murdered teacher and plenty of motives for killing him. The kids in his classes were tough—I know, I’ve talked to them—and he had a time keeping order. But so did the other teachers in the school. I’ve talked to them too. But this guy Bannon had trouble with his official class the day he got it, and since”—he referred to one of the cards he had on the desk—“there are thirty-seven students in the class, we only get thirty-seven first-class suspects.”

Macon silenced the groan. “I know, it’s tough. The mayor wants the killer. And we’ve got to find him. And we haven’t much time. School lets out the end of June, and then we’ll really be in a spot. So that’s why”—Macon gestured with one hand—“the commissioner has assigned you men to the case. We’ve got to find the killer. Probably a kid that’s been in here, that we talked to, and hasn’t even got a record. We talked to about two hundred and fifty kids, and”—again he referred to his cards—“there were only fourteen who’ve been in a reformatory or before the juvenile court. So now you know what the newspapers know, and we’ll go on from there.”

“Can we ask questions?” one of the policemen asked Macon.

“Any time.” Macon nodded. “Just get my attention. Now let’s see.” Macon stood up and went to the board. “The teacher was killed by one bullet, a .22. Our ballistics people say that there weren’t any regular rifle marks on the slug, and so we know that it must’ve been fired by one of those homemade pistols. We fired some slugs with some of those pistols, and they looked like the bullet that killed Bannon. So we’re pretty sure that he was killed by some kid. Nothing was taken out of his pockets and his clothing wasn’t disturbed, so we’re pretty sure that robbery wasn’t the motive. Bannon had been in a fight. Before we go on, see if

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