PEDERSON: Was Ari spreading word that you were a bad hookup?
ADAM: I heard she was talking shit, yeah. But girls do that.
CHANG: You weren’t offended?
ADAM: I know my skills. Why would she chill with me twice if I was so bad?
PEDERSON: Kelly Blake said you were rough with Ariana the first time.
ADAM: Was Kelly there? I was drunk. So was Ari. Barely remember it. Not a big deal. And like I said, she came back for more.
PEDERSON: Kelly told me Ariana was upset. She didn’t want to go as far as you did. That’s why she hooked up with you again. Kelly said it was her way of getting past it. Do it with you on her terms, then ice you out and tell people what a creep you were.
ADAM: Yeah? Tell Kelly she’s a wench with cankles who no guy would touch if she paid him. Look, what’s happening to these girls is screwed up. Whole school is freaked out because there’s a serial killer on the loose, cutting people up, and you guys are wasting time with me and my friends. You don’t think a whole lotta pervs had their eyes on Ariana?
CHANG: And you don’t think twenty-eight is a whole lotta texts to a girl who’s not responding?
ADAM: Ari played games. Acted like she was queen of the place. Like she could do whatever she wanted with no consequences. Teasing guys. Playing like she wanted it, then saying she didn’t. Messed with my head. Figured if I kept texting, she’d come around. You know how girls are. Good luck finding who killed her. She pissed off everyone at school. Probably pissed off every guy in town.
CHANG: But you were the last one she pissed off.
ADAM: So I killed her and three other girls? Oh yeah, you got me. I axed Ari like Sleeping fucking Beauty. Welcome to story time, kids! Where would I get a spinning wheel? And when? Between meat loaf and ice cream at Flynn’s house? And why do ’em like fairy-tale princesses?
CHANG: Princes.
ADAM: What?
CHANG: Chaminade’s team name. The Chaminade Princes. Twisted joke to kill the girls as princesses, don’t you think?
ADAM: About as funny as a chemistry teacher being a cop.
CALLUM
“April 24, 6:52 a.m. On the way to the precinct. This is Detective Callum Pederson, by the way. Should have said that first. And it’s Friday. Voice note for Case B7-22 . . . oh, whatever. Chang wants me to keep voice notes, so this is my voice note, and sorry if it isn’t like proper formatting. My cover is officially blown after yesterday’s suspect party. Told Chang we should have waited, just so we could get a few more days at school, but now the cat’s out of the bag. Pretty ironic. When I was in high school at Brookside, slumming it with the rest of the poor folk, I would have killed for Chaminade kids to know who I was. Well, I got my wish. Someone already made a ‘FuckCallumPederson’ Insta, posting pictures of my face on farm animals humped by, um, larger farm animals. My phone is being hammered by anonymous death threats like ‘Hope the killer gets u next,’ along with thirty spam messages every hour for penile-enlargement devices. Plus, I got blocked from the Princes’ group chat, which makes sense, obviously, but still sucks, because they’re not seeing my side of this. Last week, I was Prince Cally Cal. Eric even put that in his phone. I was their boy. Flynn gave me my own towel ’cause I used his pool so much, and Phillip let me joyride his Porsche, and Adam and I had our own dap . . . and now . . . Yes, I know I’m technically ‘investigating’ them, and it must be a kick in the balls to have your bud suddenly checking you out for murder . . . I mean, I get it . . . I just thought we had a bond . . . What the hell am I saying? Get your shit together, Cally. How do I delete— (ringing sound) Shit. Rebecca.”
PEDERSON: Hello?
REBECCA: Did my dad know?
PEDERSON: What?
REBECCA: Did my dad—the principal of the school that you have been attending as a “student”—know that you were a cop?
PEDERSON: Yeah. Rebecca, look—
(Click)
NAVEEN
CHANG: For the record, this is Wednesday, April 29, at 4:18 p.m. Lieutenant Joseph Chang and Detective Callum Pederson present. Thank you for bringing your son down to the precinct, Mr. Malhotra. I know last week was a little chaotic.
Mr.MALHOTRA: Chaotic! You trap half the lacrosse and basketball teams and interrogate them about dead girls without a lawyer! Pretending to be teacher and student so you can lurk around a school like goons? I knew it when I came to Parents’ Night. All the other teachers give proper syllabuses and talk intelligently about what they’re teaching. But not you! Shifty eyes, gibbering nonsense, with no syllabus, like a buffoon: “I’m going to follow the textbook!” I should have known you were a crook! And now you’re dressed as a cop, telling me my son’s the criminal! Ha! Eric and Adam and these other boys are too stupid to know their rights, but I do!
NAVEEN: Dad, calm down.
Mr.MALHOTRA: And now, maybe my son is as stupid as the others, because today he tells me he wants to come in and talk to you alone!
NAVEEN: About the girl you found yesterday.
PEDERSON: Kelly Blake. Fifth victim.
NAVEEN: I thought I could help.
Mr.MALHOTRA: He didn’t even know this Kellari girl! And now the news is saying she was drowned in the lake with her voice box cut out. Five teenage girls killed! Killed! We know who does these things. Old men with dirty minds. And here you are fooling around with young boys! Look at Naveen. He’s straight-A student, treasurer of Student Council, and won Most Improved for his basketball team. You think he’s out killing girls when he’s doing volunteer service at the animal shelter twice a week! And now you have him in the same room you bring drug dealers and thieves!
NAVEEN: Dad, can you wait outside?
Mr.MALHOTRA: And let them turn and twist you! The only Indian boy at his school! I’ve seen what they do to boys like you. I watch it on Netflix! I’m staying here the whole time. I know your rights.
PEDERSON: He has the right to an attorney, not to his father.
NAVEEN: Dad, please. Ten minutes.
Mr.MALHOTRA: You think you can help. Like some Bengali detective! What a fool. How will you do in jail, huh? That’s where they’ll put you. You think anyone will help you then? I’m calling Prabhu to come on the next flight out. He’s the top lawyer in all New York City. Fake teachers who are police! He’ll have both your badges taken away!
(Door slams.)
PEDERSON: Told you to have a syllabus.
CHANG: Catching a murderer doesn’t leave much time to make one.
NAVEEN: How’d you end up teaching chemistry . . . if you’re a cop?
CHANG: I needed a way undercover, and your chemistry teacher was about to go out on maternity leave. Principal Walker said it was the only option. Lucky my son’s in AP Chem at Mission Science. Been teaching me at nights. He graded your tests. I took it seriously. Did the best I could. You all learned, didn’t you?
NAVEEN: My tutor said you didn’t know what you were talking about.
(Silence)
CHANG: Kelly Blake was your lab mate in my class.
NAVEEN: Not by choice. She was awful at chemistry. I would have taken anyone else.
PEDERSON: Hold up—I asked you to be my lab mate, and you said no.
NAVEEN: A guy can’t be lab mates with another guy.
PEDERSON: Why not?
NAVEEN: It’s Prince code. Ask any jock like Eric or Adam or Flynn. Pair up with a girl, and she’ll do all the work for you. Pair up with a guy, and you’d have to work, like, together. Suppose you screw up a titration, or you’re lost on the assignment? You’d have to admit it, and that would be so . . . awkward. With a girl, you can relax. Not have to try and act cool.