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“And what was your role in all of this?” I say. “How did you end up at the institute?”
“Me? Like almost everyone who found their way there, I was seeking answers.”
“Did you find them?”
Fritz shakes his head. “But I’ve learned to live with the uncertainty. Working for Ezra Hawthorne helped with that, even though, outside of the occasional test or group study, I didn’t take part, nor did I want to. I was just an administrator. I kept the place running smoothly so Mr. Hawthorne and the others could focus on their research.”
“Who else did research there?”
“Plenty of established scientists and psychologists who wanted to explore a niche interest without fearing ridicule by their colleagues. Don’t ask me for specific names. Even though the place closed long ago, I can’t give them to you.”
“I know one name,” I say. “Johnny Chen.”
Fritz eyes me through a stream of smoke, surprised. “Yes, there was a year in which he spent a lot of time at the institute.”
“But he wasn’t a scientist or psychologist. He was just a teenager. Why was he there?”
“Johnny took part in a group study of ESP. While his results showed no promise in that area, he displayed a curiosity about the place and the work we did there. Because of this, Mr. Hawthorne invited him to come back. He thought Johnny had potential.”
“To do what?” I say.
“Continue the institute’s work. Ezra was always encouraging like-minded people from the next generation. In Johnny, he noticed a sensitivity most teenage boys lack. Unfortunately, those who are the most sensitive are sometimes also the most troubled. Which Johnny was. When he overdosed, it was a shock to all of us.”
I turn to the Chens’ house next door, the windows visible over the hedge all aglow. “No one at the institute knew he was using drugs?”
“Of course not.”
“And no one there had anything to do with his death?”
Fritz takes one last drag before dropping the cigarette and stomping it out on the grass.
“Just so I can keep track, you’re now accusing me of two murders?”
“Can you blame me for being suspicious? Two boys from this very cul-de-sac were at the Hawthorne Institute shortly before their deaths. One died of a drug overdose, and the other was abducted and murdered.”
“And both were sad coincidences,” Fritz says.
“Then why didn’t the police search the grounds of the institute after Billy disappeared?”
“Because they never asked.” Fritz makes a palms-out gesture of helplessness. “If they had, we certainly would have let them search the property. Especially if we had any inkling that Billy’s body was there. He was found in the lake, you say?”
“Yes. The base of the falls.”
“Could he have fallen in?”
I recall what Ragesh told me about Billy’s injuries and the blanket he’d been wrapped in. It makes me wonder if Fritz’s curiosity is genuine or if he’s only pretending not to know the details.
“No,” I say. “But his disappearance was all over the news. Why didn’t you invite the police to take a look around?”
“I suggested it, but Ezra shot me down,” Fritz says. “I disagreed, seeing how we had nothing to hide. But privacy was important to him.”
“And that was the only reason?” I say. “Privacy?”
“He also knew the authorities would jump to the same conclusions you have if they knew Billy had been at the institute the afternoon before he disappeared.”
“You knew about that?”
Fritz nods. “I spoke to him myself.”