The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

my father that you were transferring here. Since I pretty much know everybody in the senior class, you stuck out like a fox in a chicken coop.”
    Because of his accent, I had to strain to understand him, especially over the hubbub caused by students talking and shouting and the jukebox belting out the nonsensical lyrics to “Sh-Boom.”
    “Are you a senior?” I asked, before I remembered that he had been a sophomore last year.
    “No, I’m a junior. But I’m the editor of the Carter High Bulldog. So I talk to a lot of people.”
    That was the name of the school newspaper, as I had found out from Sylvia. Since we were Carter High and our nickname was the Bulldogs, it made sense to call the newspaper the Carter High Bulldog. To some people, anyway. He must be pretty good if he was editor of the school paper as a junior. I jacked him up a notch on my first-impression scale.
    While I digested this information, Ed ate a couple of bites of his sloppy joe burger and then said, with a smile, “I hear you got expelled from Atherton.”
    I cringed and quickly looked around to see if anybody else was within earshot. Couldn’t anything be kept secret?
    He saw my reaction and said, “Sorry. I guess I put my foot in my mouth. And I don’t want to get started on the wrong foot with you.” He chuckled.
    To get off this subject, I said, “How are we related?”
    “Well, my last name is Drucquer. Does that ring a bell?”
    I thought about the name for the first time. Then I remembered. “My grandmother’s maiden name was Drucquer.”
    “Right. Our two sides of the family were separated for over seventy years. Your ancestor, Thomas Drucquer, came across the pond from London to the U.S. in 1881.”
    “The pond?”
    “Sorry. The Atlantic Ocean.”
    “My grandmother was born in this country.”
    “In 1883, to be precise. My family only made it here two years ago, as you can tell from my accent. My father took an interest in genealogy and found out about your ancestor who had come over. Everybody on our side of the family had forgotten about him. Probably because he was drummed out of the family when he left.
    “Well, there was some contact. Dad found letters from him that had been written to his cousin in England—my great grandfather. Thomas said he was living on a farm in Carter. When my parents decided to come over, they came to Carter because it sounded like a good place to live.”
    “Based on seventy-year-old letters?”
    “You’re right; my parents are a little naïve. Anyway, about a year ago we found out that the descendants of Thomas were still living on the farm. I knew Ralph for a year before I realized that he was my cousin.”
    “I wasn’t at Ralph’s funeral,” I said. “I was sick.”
    “I know. But I got to meet the rest of your family.”
    “Ralph was my first cousin. But you…”
    “My father said that Ralph and I are fourth cousins. That is, we are three more generations removed from our common ancestor than you and Ralph. I assume that means you and I are also fourth cousins.”
    “I’ll take your word for it.” Apparently, Ed had known Ralph quite well. “I’ve been trying to find more out about how…Ralph died. All I know is what my dad has told me, which isn’t much. I did see the obituaries in the Buffalo Express and the Carter Press, but they weren’t exactly fountains of information, either.”
    Ed looked solemn. “Poor Ralph. That was a tragedy. Because there were no witnesses, nobody knows exactly what happened. But I have a theory.”
    “I’m ready to listen to anything.”
    “On the fatal afternoon, there was an assembly. The whole student body gathered in the auditorium for a talk by somebody forgettable, and when it ended, we were supposed to return to class. Ralph cut his class. He obviously went back into the auditorium or, perhaps, he never left.”
    “So he couldn’t have been drinking or something like that.”
    “Of course not. It was right in the middle of the school day. Okay, so Ralph was on the football team, and football players have been known to hoist a pint, but nothing like that happens during school hours. No, I believe Ralph was despondent because he and Ruthie—she was his girlfriend—were breaking up.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Because she told me. We’re friends.”
    “Are you saying that Ralph jumped off the balcony?”
    “Nothing that deliberate. I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re his cousin, and you have a right to