Джозеф Файндер - Judgment

Dr. Cole said, “Of course.”

“One thing all of us here know is, Jake’s a kid with a good heart. So let’s figure this out together. God bless the rules. But he really belongs here. How do we get to that truth?”

Dr. Cole looked at Duncan for a long while and kept nodding. She seemed to be mulling something over.

Duncan said, “I think this is a teachable moment for Jake.”

“I hope so.” Dr. Cole smiled.

Juliana remembered all those times when Dunc talked his way out of a traffic ticket, or into the head of a line, or into possession of Toys R Us’s last Marvel Legion action figure, which Jake had once desperately wanted.

He’d even coaxed a smile out of Dr. Cole.

Dr. Cole cleared her throat. “Alas, we’re not able to make an exception for one student, as much as we might like him. That’s why we have a zero-tolerance policy. This... vaping or dabbing , or sometimes it’s called Juuling — these e-cigarettes, the marijuana use — it’s an epidemic at this school, and the only way for us to stop it is to be firm in our response. Challenging us only makes us the best we can be.”

Duncan nodded again, looked thoughtful, and Juliana could see he was trying to figure out another approach, another way to Dr. Cole’s cold heart. But she could also see that it was useless. Dr. Cole would not be swayed. Duncan’s approach was falling flat.

Juliana spoke up.

“This drug use at the school, you said it’s ‘epidemic’?”

“There’s a high baseline incidence of drug use, an increasing use of this sort of equipment, yes. So Jake’s recent academic troubles all begin to make sense.”

“A ‘high baseline incidence,’ is that right?”

“Yes, quite disturbing. Quite widespread.”

Duncan glanced at Juliana, alarmed at whatever she was doing.

He knew she was a shark smelling the chum in the water. Or a pit bull.

“Huh,” she said. “So essentially you’ve just confessed to me that this institution has utterly failed in its responsibility to — how do you put it in the student handbook? — ‘create and maintain a safe and optimal educational environment.’ I’m pretty sure I’ve quoted that accurately.”

Dr. Cole sat up straight in her chair. Her eyes were angry. “Judge Brody—”

“And that fascinates me, because I’m thinking of your remarks on that recruitment panel in Boston last spring — the one that was on YouTube? — when you indicated there was no drug problem at this school.” She looked directly at Dr. Cole. “It makes me wonder whether this school has changed drastically overnight — or whether you simply don’t know what’s going on here.”

The headmistress started to speak, then thought better of it.

“That would suggest that this issue desperately needs outside intervention.” She took her iPhone out of her purse. “Now, the state Commissioner of Elementary and Secondary Education, as you should be aware, released a statement earlier this year proposing that receivership be considered for any school — I have it on my iPhone here — ‘unable to ensure a safe and drug-free environment for its pupils.’ From your own account, it sounds as if this school should receive a Level 5 designation. Receivership. Meaning they take over control of the school. Do you follow me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good. So should we report the situation to the Massachusetts Department of Education? Should we talk to Lester Milbank about launching an inquiry? Or the Boston Police?” She paused, took a breath.

Dr. Cole’s cheeks had reddened, as if she’d been slapped.

Juliana went on. “I can either infer that you are publicly lying about this institution — or that you have simply lost control of it. It’s difficult to see any other explanation.”

“Judge Brody,” said Dr. Cole.

But Juliana was on a roll. “So you’re telling us you’ve made a decision to expel our son. And looking ahead to what’s going to happen as the result of his expulsion, I’m sure the good name of this school will recover, though it may take a few years. And it won’t be under your leadership, of course. But challenging us only makes us the best we can be, right?”

“That was very sexy in there,” Duncan said.

They were standing outside of her car, in the front parking lot. They’d left Jake behind at school, to begin serving his sentence of detention, which was about three rungs down the punishment ladder from expulsion. Her son had looked at Juliana with stunned disbelief, as if she had just walked on water right in front of him.

“You don’t think I was too hard on her?”

“Not at all. She was going to expel him. You had to get serious. You were a goddamned tiger in there.”

Lion , she thought. Lioness. It had felt good, actually, laying into the headmistress that way, taking control of something finally, when she felt so otherwise helpless.

“Maybe the thing about ‘challenging us’ was a bit much,” Juliana said.

“I enjoyed it.”

“Okay, then.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “so I’ve been thinking a lot. I’ve cooled off a bit. I mean, we’re in this thing together, and we’ve got to work it through together.”

She nodded and said, “I’d like that.”

“We need you at home. Jake clearly needs you. And I miss you.”

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

“I still want to work out our marriage,” Duncan said.

“Me too.”

“Come on home. Okay?”

Martie Connolly came in, with Lucy jingling her tags. Lucy’s tail started wagging metronomically when she saw Juliana. Martie unleashed the dog and hung up the leash on a peg. Then she noticed Juliana’s suitcase.

“You’re leaving,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s time,” Juliana said. “Thank you so much for letting me crash here.”

The dog trotted over to her bed and picked up dog-toy Donald Trump. She had destroyed much of the yellow hair. Now she began industriously gnawing on the face.

“Well, I’m sad you’re leaving. But if this means things are better for you at home, I’m happy for you.”

“We still have a lot to figure out, but Duncan and I finally talked. And with everything going on, I really need to be with my family.”

Juliana found herself looking at a painting on the wall, a fine oil portrait of a grim-looking bearded man that had to be a hundred and fifty years old. “Is that Samuel Colt?”

“The Peacemaker himself. I wonder how he’d feel knowing that his money now pays for dirty martinis for a liberal gun-control supporter in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.”

“He’d have every right to be pissed off, don’t you think?”

Martie’s eyes crinkled. She looked away. “It’s none of my business, of course, and I’m not foolish enough to get involved. But with this, this business between you and Duncan — let me remind you of something. We’re all flawed. Don’t forget that. We’ve all done things we regret, and nobody is perfect.”

“I sure know that.”

Juliana hesitated, but then she reminded herself that she and Martha were always candid with each other. She wasn’t going to stop now.

“Listen,” she said, and she told her about what Hersh had said. How he at first wanted her to stop, to push no further. And what he had discovered. She told her about Noah Miller’s e-mail reporting a “problem” with the lawyer in the UK. And how a few days later that lawyer was dead.

Martie looked stricken. Her normally sparkling blue eyes had gone dark. “What does Philip think you should do?”

“He had an idea, but I have to tell you, it’s pretty bleak.”