The Silent Girl

enough. That showed up in her entrance exam scores. And the first year she was here, she did fine. But after her parents divorced, everything went downhill for her and she barely passed most of her classes. Ofcourse we felt sorry for her, but half our students come from divorced families. They’re able to adjust and move on. Charlotte never did. She just remained a morose girl. It’s as if, just by her poor-me attitude, she
attracted
bad luck.”
    For a woman who didn’t like to speak ill of the dead, Mrs. Forsyth certainly had no trouble letting loose.
    “She can hardly be blamed for losing her mother,” Jane pointed out.
    “No, of course not. That was awful, that shooting in Chinatown. But have you ever noticed the way misfortune seems to target certain people? They’ll lose their spouse, their job, and get cancer all in the same year. That was Charlotte, always gloomy, always attracting bad luck. Which may be why she didn’t seem to have a lot of friends.”
    This was certainly not the impression of Charlotte that Jane had picked up from talking with Patrick. It surprised her to hear about this side of the girl.
    “In the school yearbook, she seemed to have a healthy list of activities,” Jane said. “Music, for instance.”
    Mrs. Forsyth nodded. “She was a decent violist, but her heart never seemed to be in it. Only in her junior year did she finally manage to pass the auditions for the Boston summer orchestra workshop. But it helped that she played the viola. They’re always in demand.”
    “How many of your students attend that workshop?”
    “At least a few every year. It’s the best in New England, taught by members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Very selective.” Mrs. Forsyth paused. “I know who you’re going to ask about next. That Chinese girl who disappeared, right?”
    Jane nodded. “You read my mind. Her name was Laura Fang.”
    “I understand she was a talented girl. That’s what I heard after she vanished. A number of my students attended the workshop with her.”
    “But not Charlotte?”
    “No. Charlotte didn’t pass the audition until the year after Lauradisappeared, so they wouldn’t have met each other. Another question you were about to ask, I’m sure.”
    “You remember all these details, even after nineteen years?”
    “Because I just went over it again with that detective.”
    “Which detective?”
    “I can’t remember his name. It was a few weeks ago. I’d have to check my appointment book.”
    “I’d appreciate it if you looked up his name right now, ma’am.”
    A look of irritation flickered in the woman’s eyes, as if this was more effort than she cared to make. But she crossed to her desk and rummaged through a drawer until she came up with a daily planner. Flipping back through the pages, she gave a nod. “Here. He called me April second to schedule an appointment. I thought he looked a bit old to be a detective, but I guess experience counts for something.”
    A bit old. And asking about missing girls
. “Was his name Detective Ingersoll?” Jane asked.
    Mrs. Forsyth glanced up. “So you do know him.”
    “Haven’t you heard the news? Detective Ingersoll is dead. He was shot to death last week.”
    The appointment book tumbled from Mrs. Forsyth’s hands and slapped onto her desk. “My God. No, I didn’t know.”
    “Why was he here, Mrs. Forsyth? Why was he asking about Charlotte?”
    “I assumed it was her father pushing for it, still hoping for answers. I mentioned it to Mark Mallory at the alumni dinner a few weeks ago, but he didn’t know anything about it.”
    “Did you ask Mr. Dion?”
    She flushed. “The Bolton Academy avoids any contact whatsoever with Mr. Dion. To avoid dredging up … bad feelings.”
    “Tell me exactly what Detective Ingersoll said to you.”
    The woman sank into the chair behind her desk. Suddenly she looked smaller and less formidable, stunned by this intrusion of the brutal outside world into her sheltered universe of books and orchestralscores. “I’m sorry, give me a moment to think about it …” She swallowed. “He didn’t actually ask very much about Charlotte. It was more about the other girl.”
    “Laura Fang.”
    “And others.”
    “Others?”
    “He had a list. A long list with maybe two dozen names. He asked if I recognized any of them. If any had attended Bolton. I told him no.”
    “Do you remember any of the names on that list?”
    “No. As I said, I didn’t know any of them.