Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [23]
“As in writing papers for some seniors?”
“Nah, he couldn’t get away with that. It was more like . . . filling up the space. Senior theses are a minimum of thirty pages. That’s a lot of writing for most people.”
Decker nodded.
“There’s nothing evil with that. I mean most of the kids at B and W have been getting tutored for years: from professional teachers, SAT tutors, college kids. It’s well known that if you do a term paper at school, like forty million people have already looked it over before you turn it in. B and W has strict grading policies. You’re expected to perform at a college level—which never made sense to me. Why do you need high school if you’re already at a college level? But you know how it is. The competition is fierce.”
Decker scratched his head. His own kids were past the rat race, but he remembered all too well the stress associated with getting into top-tiered universities. Gabe was the only teen Decker knew who wasn’t nervous about college. So basically it took a musical genius to go through the process without anxiety.
“If Greg was doing well, Joey, why do you think he took a gun to his head?”
Joey’s eyes watered. “It’s a mystery.”
“You told me he was acting different lately.”
The kid paused. “Just that the past couple of months, he became obsessed with his video camera. At first, it was okay, but then it gets annoying to have a camera in your face while you’re eating a hot dog.”
“What was Greg recording?”
“He claimed he was just documenting the lives of typical teenagers.”
Decker thought a moment. “When Greg started filming, did he start distancing himself from you and your group? Did he start hanging with different friends?”
“Not that I could tell. I mean he didn’t start hanging with the bohemians.”
“Who are the bohemians?”
“Ah, you know the type—artsy-fartsy, weird dress, and soooooo intellectual. They give you this crap about how formal education is worthless and the real education is on the streets. Which means they’re stupid. I mean, give me an effing break! Anyone who goes to B and W is a spoiled brat. I mean all those so-called tough guys wouldn’t last a day on the streets.”
“Who are the tough guys?” When Joey waved him off, Decker said, “Did you ask Greg why he started videotaping?”
“He said it was fun . . . that it took the tedium out of high school.” Joey didn’t speak for a moment. “I don’t know why, but I got the feeling that maybe the hobby had to do with a girl.”
“Did you ask Greg about it?”
“I did. He denied it, said if he had a girlfriend I’d be the first to know so he could lord it over me.”
“Girls can lead you in all sorts of directions,” Decker said. “Is your theory a guess or are you thinking of someone specific?”
“I’ve gone through the roster of possibilities in my head. I can’t come up with anyone.”
“What about your sister?” Decker said.
“My sister?” He made a face. “You mean Tina?”
“His mother once picked him up from your house. She said there were girls there and when she asked Gregory about it, he said they were friends of your sister.”
“Tina’s like a kid.” When Decker didn’t say anything, Joey said, “Nah . . . impossible. And even if they did flirt—which I never saw—she certainly wouldn’t be the reason why Greg did what he did. She couldn’t possibly inspire that much passion.”
“What about her friends?”
“I can’t see it.” Joey shook his head. “If you want me to ask her, I will.”
Decker thought a moment. He really didn’t have any good reason to start questioning a bunch of thirteen-year-old girls. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He focused in on Joey’s eyes. “So again, what do you think is the reason behind the suicide?”
“I dunno, Lieutenant, and that’s a fact.”
“Do you think Greg could have gotten into drugs?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did you guys light up together?”
Joey turned bright red. “Occasionally on weekends, and nothing heavy. Maybe a joint between, like, four of us.”
Decker nodded. “Could Greg have gotten in deeper?”
“Greg never acted like he was out of control with anything.” He regarded Decker’s face.