Garden of Evil Read Free Page A

important to understand
why
the girl and the cats had been nailed to the ceiling like that, rather than how. He was sure that the way in which they had been arranged was symbolic, but he couldn’t begin to think what it symbolized. He had seen pentacles and spirals and inverted crosses. But a girl smothered in whitewash and surrounded by eight white cats?
    Just then, there was a soft knock at the faculty room door.
    â€˜Come!’ said Detective Brennan. But the door remained closed, and nobody answered.
    After a while, there was another knock. Soft, again, but insistent.
    Detective Brennan went across the room and opened up the door and said, ‘Yes?’
    A tall, skinny boy was standing outside. He had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and a very pale, angular face. He was quite handsome in a bloodless, bleached-out, hippie-ish way. He was wearing a loose white open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and loose white linen pants, and Jesus sandals. Over his shoulder he was carrying a white canvas bag, like a gunny sack.
    He said, ‘Excuse me, sir, I’m looking for Special Class Two.’ Jim would have placed his accent as Louisiana or Mississippi – Deep South, anyhow. Soft, like his knocking at the door, but insistent.
    â€˜College is closed for today, son,’ said Detective Brennan. ‘Didn’t nobody tell you that when you was coming in? They should of.’
    â€˜Closed?’
    â€˜There’s been an incident. You’ll see it all on the TV news.’
    â€˜We don’t have a TV, sir. My father doesn’t approve.’
    â€˜Oh. Well, you’ll read all about it in the papers.’
    â€˜We don’t have any papers delivered. My father—’
    â€˜Your father don’t approve of papers, neither. I see. Well, no news is good news, that’s what they say, ain’t it, although I don’t see no harm in the funnies.’
    Jim said, ‘Wait up. Let me guess. You’re Simon Silence, right? And your father is the Reverend John Silence.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. That’s absolutely correct, sir.’
    Jim stood up and walked across to the door. ‘In that case, welcome to the wonderful world of mass education. You and I should be meeting each other tomorrow morning, if and when the police have finished combing the college for forensic evidence. My name is Mr Rook and Special Class Two, that’s my class.’
    â€˜Pleased to meet you, sir. I’ve never been in a class before. Well, I’ve never even been in a
school
before. My father taught me, mostly, although I did have outside tutors for physics and math. I’m sure that I’m really going to enjoy it.’
    â€˜You are? Good. I’m glad about that. But before you get too ecstatic, why don’t you wait until you meet your classmates? Even
I
haven’t met them yet.’
    â€˜Go on, kid,’ said Detective Brennan. ‘Push off home now, come back tomorrow.’
    Simon Silence ignored him, and said, ‘May I just ask you one question, Mr Rook?’
    â€˜OK, go ahead. What?’
    â€˜You teach English, I know.’
    â€˜
Remedial
English, if you want to be accurate. English for students who don’t see anything wrong in saying “this pizza’s good – but this pizza’s a whole lot gooder – and
this
pizza’s gooderer than any other pizza I ever ate.”’
    Simon Silence gave Jim the faintest of smiles. ‘What I actually wanted to ask you is whether you ever give your class any spiritual guidance.’
    â€˜Spiritual guidance? What kind of spiritual guidance? You mean religion? I don’t do religion, Simon. Sometimes we talk about life and death, but only so far as they’re part of a poem, or an essay, or a story we happen to be studying. “
Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me. The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
”
Discuss.’
    â€˜I