“He happened to overhear one of the conversations,” said Jade. “And then he—uh—made some prank calls himself. But that isn’t even how he happened to call the Farbersons’ number.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Martinson.
“Well, you see, there was this bat,” Deena said.
“A bat?” cried her mother, exasperated. “Deena, will you please try to make some sense?”
Deena sighed. She knew how lame the whole thing sounded. And if her parents wouldn’t believe her, how could she expect the police to?
“It’s obvious the girl is trying to protect her brother,” Detective Monroe whispered to Detective Frazier, loud enough for Deena to hear. It was late Sunday afternoon. Deena and Jade had just told the whole story again, from the beginning. But from the expressions on the detectives’ faces it was obvious that they only believed parts of it—the parts that seemed the worst for Chuck.
“Let’s go over this again,” said Detective Frazier. “When did Chuck make the threatening phone calls—before or after he made the bomb threat?”
“You make it sound so terrible!” said Deena, trying not to cry again, trying to maintain control. “But it was just a prank. And he didn’t make all that many calls!”
“Even one bomb threat is a serious matter,” observed Detective Frazier. “And you say he used the name ‘The Phantom of Fear Street’?”
“On one or two calls,” said Deena.
“Someone using that name called nine-one-one right after the break-in at the Farbersons’,” Frazier said.
“That was Chuck,” said Jade.
“Why did he use that name?” asked Frazier. “If he hadn’t done anything wrong, why didn’t he say who he was?”
“Because—we’ve told you!” Deena was so exasperated she felt like screaming. “He was already in enough trouble. He’d been expelled from his old school, he’d gotten in that stupid fight in the cafeteria—”
“A real model citizen, in other words,” said Frazier sarcastically.
“Let’s move on,” said Detective Monroe, “to the night of the murder. Now, you say that Chuck just happened to pick the Farbersons’ number out of the phone book at random?”
“That’s right,” said Jade and Deena in unison.
“And he did this because you girls were scared of a bat?” Disbelief showed on his face.
Deena just nodded. No wonder the policemen didn’t believe her. It all sounded crazy, even to her. And yet it was true.
“Then you kids decided to go over to Fear Street—alone?”
“We thought of calling the police,” Jade said. “But Chuck said you’d never believe us. And he was right! You don’t!”
“Uh-huh,” said Detective Monroe. “So you went over there and broke in the back door—”
“The back door had already been broken into,” said Deena.
“Right,” said Monroe. “And then you discovered the body of Mrs. Farberson.”
“We didn’t know who she was,” said Deena.
“Chuck thought she might still be alive,” Jade added.
“So he started to call for an ambulance,” said Deena.
“And that’s when your mythical masked man appeared,” said Detective Frazier.
“He’s not mythical!” said Deena. “He’s real! He broke in and robbed the house. He stabbed Mrs. Farberson. He was still there when we arrived! Why aren’t you out searching for him instead of putting Chuck in jail?”
“Farberson identified Chuck in a lineup this afternoon,” said Monroe in a flat tone.
“Chuck’s fingerprints were found on the murder weapon,” said Frazier. “No one else’s.”
“But we explained that!” said Deena. “When the man in the mask—oh, what’s the use?” She blinked back tears, then stole a peek at Jade. Jade appeared to be every bit as upset as Deena felt. She looked slightly green, as if she was about to become sick.
For a few moments neither policeman spoke. Then Monroe started in again. “Can either of you explain to me why a burglar—let alone a murderer—would hang around when he heard three people enter the house?”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” added Frazier. “Why would he let you see him? Why wouldn’t he hide somewhere till you left? Or try to escape without being seen?”
“Why would he want to chase you?” said Monroe. “If he’d done the things you say, girls, he wouldn’t be too interested in chasing after three teenagers in his car and then just driving away.”
“We don’t know why!” Deena shouted. “But everything we’ve told you is the truth!”
Detective Monroe sighed. “Listen to me, Deena—Jade. Loyalty is wonderful. I try to teach it to my own kids. But loyalty is no virtue when it causes you to lie to protect someone bad. Now, we understand that you want to help Chuck, but this crazy story can’t do him any good at all.”
“It’s not crazy,” Deena said. “It’s true.”
“Come on, girls,” Detective Frazier said. “This has to be hard on you. You can help Chuck most by telling us the truth. So please, think carefully, and then tell us what really happened.”
chapter
13
Sunday night Deena couldn’t get to sleep. The events of Saturday night and Sunday kept chasing through her mind. It was bad enough that the police didn’t believe a word she and Jade had told them; now she had to go to school and face her friends, who would all know that she and Jade and Chuck were mixed up in a murder.
Monday morning she met Jade in the parking lot before school. Jade was wearing a navy jumper with a fuzzy pink wool jacket. She was dressed like her old self. For once, however, her mouth wasn’t turned up in a mischievous smile—she looked grim.
“Have you seen this?” she said, handing Deena the morning paper.
Deena opened it. There was the story, right at the top of page one. The headline, in bold black letters, said:
LOCAL TEEN CHARGED IN MURDER
Below that, in smaller type, was a subheadline:
18-Year-Old Suspect Tied to Phone Threats
Her heart pounding, Deena began to read:
Charles A. Martinson, the son of local telephone executive Albert B. Martinson, was arrested at his home early Sunday morning and charged with the stabbing murder Saturday night of Edna Lemley Farberson, 45. Mrs. Farberson, who moved to Shadyside only six months ago, was found by her husband, Stanley, 46, in their ransacked house at 884 Fear Street.
According to police sources, Mrs. Farberson surprised the suspect as he was burglarizing the house. A struggle ensued, and Mrs. Farberson was killed with a ten-inch-long knife that her husband identified as from their kitchen. Mr. Farberson told police that he arrived home as the suspect was fleeing. “The moon was right above the house, so I got a good look at him and the license on his car,” Farberson said.
Farberson didn’t pursue the intruder but instead ran inside to check on the safety of his wife.
Farberson had come home early from Alberga III, a popular Italian restaurant that he owns and operates.
“Usually I don’t get home till after midnight,” Farberson told the Press. “But Edna wouldn’t answer the phone, and I got worried. I had a feeling something was wrong.”
The Martinson youth is being held without bail pending further investigation. Also arrested were two juvenile girls who were later released to their parents’ custody. According to police sources, the three teens are implicated in a number of threatening phone calls that have been made in the Shadyside area in recent weeks, including the bomb threat at Shadyside Lanes last Saturday night.
These same sources report that Charles Martinson identified himself as the Phantom of Fear Street in these calls, while the girls made anonymous suggestive calls to local boys.
Deena finished reading the article, then reread it, hoping to find something different. Glumly she handed it back to Jade. “I’m not going to school today,” she said, wishing she meant it.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” s
aid Jade. “But do you think anyone will know it’s us?”
“Who else?” said Deena. “Chuck’s my brother, and everyone knows you and I hang out together. I just can’t figure out how Farberson saw Chuck. We didn’t see him.”
“Deena, we were running for our lives!” Jade answered. Then she looked at the paper again. “It says we were both arrested,” Jade said. “But I wasn’t even there!”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Deena. “The article makes everything look as bad as possible. People are only going to believe the worst.”
“Like the police did,” said Jade.
“Right,” Deena agreed with a sigh.
As Deena and Jade had feared, the only topic of conversation at school that day was Chuck and the murder. Chuck had only attended Shadyside for two weeks, so just a few kids knew him. But by second period everyone in the school knew that he was Deena’s brother, and that Deena and Jade were with him the night of the murder.
But strangely, no one seemed to blame the girls for anything. In fact, a lot of the kids seemed sympathetic. Deena was surprised in her first-period class when Kathy Narida passed her a note. “Don’t worry,” the note read. “Chuck’s in my geography class, and I’m sure he’s innocent.”
Mostly, everyone was curious. They all wanted to know what had happened. Deena didn’t know how Jade was handling it, but she tried to say as little as possible while still seeming friendly. It got stickier when Lisa Blume, assistant editor of the school newspaper, cornered Deena between second and third periods.
“I heard all about your brother,” Lisa told Deena. “Pretty rough.”
“Yeah,” said Deena. “Thanks.”
“I’m sure he’s completely innocent, though,” Lisa went on.
“Of course he is,” said Deena. She started to push past Lisa and head for her next class, but Lisa put her hand on Deena’s arm.
“By the way,” she said casually, “everyone says you and Jade were with Chuck when it happened. The Spectator would really love to do a feature on it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Deena, “but the detectives told us not to talk about it.”
“Don’t you want to let people know your brother is innocent?” said Lisa.
“Of course I do!” said Deena. “But—but every time I try to help him I end up making things worse! Please, Lisa, don’t push me!”
“Sorry,” said Lisa. “I understand. But maybe you can tell me a little bit about the other parts of it—that don’t have to do with the murder.”
“What do you mean?” said Deena.
“Well, what about the phone calls?” said Lisa.
Deena felt her heart sink. “It was just harmless fun,” said Deena. “It didn’t have anything to do with the murder—not really.”
“Can you tell me the names of the people you called?”
“No!” said Deena. Then she smiled, hoping that she sounded casual. “Honestly, the police told me not to say anything. It was no big deal, really! Now, excuse me. I’ve got to get to class.”
“Me, too,” said Lisa. “But when it’s all over, will you give me an exclusive?”
“Sure,” Deena promised. If it’s ever over, she thought.
In trigonometry class Deena was only half there while Mr. Spencer talked about sines, cosines, and tangents. All she could think about was what had happened Saturday night and the terrible trouble Chuck was in. Over and over her thoughts came back to the large man in the mask.
The burglar. The real killer.
If she could somehow find him, then maybe the police would let Chuck go. How could she find him? Where would she begin?
She was still thinking about the masked man after class when someone bumped into her, hard, in the hall. She raised her eyes, startled and annoyed, to see Bobby McCorey glaring down at her.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled, even though he had bumped into her. She started to move on, but he stepped to the side, blocking her path. Now she could see that his two buddies, Eddie Mixon and Ralph Terry, were right behind him.
Even more annoyed, Deena glared back at Bobby. What was wrong with him? He hardly knew her. In fact, they probably hadn’t said three words to each other in their whole lives.
And then she remembered.
Bobby was the boy Chuck had fought with the first day of school. Even worse, he was the first one Chuck had called claiming to be the Phantom of Fear Street.
“Will you let me get by?” Deena said, trying to sound polite but firm.
“Sure,” said Bobby. “After you listen to me.”
“All right,” said Deena, trying to sound tough. “I’m listening.”
“I want you to give your brother a message, Deena,” Bobby said. “Tell the ‘Phantom of Fear Street’ that if he ever gets out of jail, his troubles aren’t over. Got that?”
Deena didn’t answer. “Just give him that message,” Bobby repeated. “Of course, he probably won’t ever get out. In fact,” he added in a nasty tone, “according to the papers, he’s guilty. And that means life in prison.”
A film of tears suddenly formed over her eyes, and she didn’t even notice that Bobby had turned away and gone off down the hall, laughing with his two buddies.
In a daze, Deena stumbled toward the lunchroom and got in line. Usually she was one of the first ones there, because she liked to get eating over with to go outside on nice days, or to go to the library when it was cold or raining. But that day she was nearly at the end of the line. She pointed at random to some things on the steam table, then took her loaded tray over to where Jade was sitting alone.
“I thought maybe you were staging a hunger strike,” said Jade. “I’m almost finished eating already.”
“If you’re still hungry, you can have mine,” said Deena. “I don’t have much appetite today.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jade. “Nobody can talk about anything but the murder.”
“And the phone calls,” agreed Deena. She took a bite of some brown and green stuff on her plate and swallowed without really tasting it.
“That reminds me,” said Jade. “I ran into Rob Morell this morning. He asked me if I knew anything about some sexy phone calls he got.”
“Oh, no,” said Deena. “You didn’t tell him—”
“All I told him was that I didn’t call him,” Jade said.
“But the paper said the two of us—”
“As a matter of fact, I think he wants to discuss it with you,” said Jade. “Look. He’s coming over here right now.”
Deena saw Rob Morell, a friendly smile on his face, approaching with a tray in his hands. In a total panic she stood up, desperate for a way to escape.
“Sit down,” said Jade. “You haven’t eaten a thing.” She pushed back her own chair. “Sorry I can’t stay and talk to you guys, but I’ve got to return a library book.”
“Jade, no!” said Deena. It was too late. With a flash of her mischievous smile Jade had turned and walked off. A moment later Rob Morell slid into the empty seat.
“Hi, Deena,” he said.
“Hi,” she mumbled. She sneaked a look at him. He didn’t seem to be angry, or upset, or anything except friendly.
“I heard about your brother,” he said. “What a drag.”
“He’s innocent,” said Deena.
“Well, sure he is,” said Rob. “I mean, I don’t really know him, but he seems like a nice guy.”
Deena didn’t answer. As always when she was with boys, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“You know,” Rob went on, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you ever since we were in solid geometry together last year. Want to get together sometime?”
“I guess so,” said Deena, not believing what she was hearing.
“You’re probably pretty busy till the trouble with your brother gets taken care of,” said Rob. “But I’ll give you a call, if that’s all right.”
“It’s fine,” said Deena.
“Great,” said Rob, standing up. “Someho
w I have an idea I’ll like talking to you on the phone!”
Later that night Deena tried to concentrate on her trig homework, but it was impossible. No matter how hard she tried to do a problem, her mind skipped to thoughts of Chuck or of Rob Morell.
In fact, Rob Morell was the first thing she’d been able to think about besides Chuck’s trouble. What did he mean he wanted to talk to her on the phone?
Did he know she’d made those calls? Did he think she was after his bod?
Or maybe did he just like her? After all, he had said he’d wanted to talk to her since solid geometry class. And, she remembered, he had smiled at her sometimes during class last year.
Deena yawned and shut her trig book, then started to get ready for bed. When the phone rang she jumped nervously before grabbing up the receiver.
“Hello?” she said, hoping it was Rob.
It was Jade, her voice excited and urgent. “Deena, turn on your TV! Channel seven! Right now!” And she hung up.
Puzzled, Deena switched on the little set she kept on her desk. It was the local news, and a reporter was interviewing a big man with a broken nose. There was something familiar about the man. Deena was sure she didn’t know him, but she had a feeling she had met him somewhere.
“What are your feelings about the suspect?” the reporter was saying.
“I hope he gets the maximum!” said the man in a deep, growling, strangely familiar voice. “I know I’m supposed to turn the other cheek, but I can’t forgive someone for such a terrible crime.”
“Well, that about wraps it up here,” said the reporter. “Thank you, Mr. Farberson. Now back to the studio.”
Deena stared at the television.
Mr. Farberson?
Now she knew where she had seen him before.
She recognized his voice.
Mr. Farberson was the man in the mask!
chapter
14
Deena called Jade back right away.
“Was that who I think it was?” she said as soon as her friend answered.
“It’s definitely him,” said Jade. “I’d never forget that voice.”
“Me neither,” agreed Deena. “I think we ought to tell the police.”