'Long enough,' he replied.
'Did you work here last summer? Were you around for last year's camp?'
He shoved nervous hands in his pockets. 'No. I move in winter. Winter always makes me feel like I should be somewhere else. I came here last winter.'
So he couldn't have observed something suspicious when my sister was killed. But he might have noticed some recent activities that would be useful for me to know.
'When the electricity went off yesterday, were you around?'
'I'm always around,' he replied guardedly.
'Oh, I know, I know you do your job. I was just wondering if you saw anyone doing something he or she shouldn't. Or perhaps you saw one of the campers alone in the building, not with the group of us.'
'You came back alone on Monday,' Arthur noted.
Oh, good. He'd seen me being suspicious, and I hadn't even been aware of him.
'Anyone eke?'
'Paul and the weird girl.'
'Arthur, do you have any idea who could be cutting the power?'
'No,' he replied quickly. 'I don't know nothing! I don't see nothing!'
'Okay, okay, no problem, I was just wondering.'
He was too nervous and worried to provide information now, and the best thing for me to do was back off. But I had been around a lot of custodians in my life; I would slowly make him my friend.
'Where are we going?' I asked, two hours later.
'If it were up to me, California,' Brian said, taking my lunch tray from me, setting it down at the base of a maple at the far end of the quadrangle. 'But that's a long walk, so let's stop here.'
The energy our troupe had shown earlier in the day had run out by lunchtime. Maggie didn't want kids returning to the dorms unsupervised, but she let us bring our lunches out on the quad and take a nap there, where she could keep an eye on us. Kids had scattered over the grass, some in the shade of tall, leafy trees, others basking in the sun.
Brian stretched out on the grass. I sat and rested my back against the maple's rough bark.
'The truth is, Jenny, there are two more long days till the weekend. Lots of stupid stuff is happening around here, and I have to deal with it. I need a reward-lunch with you.'
'It must be tough for you and your mother. Being in charge of the dorms as well as working all day in the theater, you never get a break.'
'I think it's getting to her more than me,' he said.
'How so?'
Lying on his back, Brian gazed up at the tree, thinking before he answered. The movement of the branches, the shifting sun and shade, were reflected in his dark eyes. 'She's overreacting to things. The pranks in the theater have got her really upset. This morning she accused me of them.'
I decided not to tell him I'd heard part of their argument.
'Why does she think you'd do something like that?'
'To mess things up. To get back at Walker.'
'I didn't realize you disliked him that much.'
'I don't. I know I'm a good actor, a good stage manager, too, and let what he says run off me. But I think his criticism of me over the years has gotten to my mother. She tries to act professional and doesn't let people see what upsets her, but she's pretty sensitive. She can get down about stuff, really down, and she imagines I feel the same as she does.'
'Do you have any idea who could be behind these pranks?' I asked. I was not about to mention my first theory that Liza was haunting us. I knew Brian was too practical to consider it.
'Paul, but I don't have proof. Paul and someone else who can cut the electricity, maybe Arthur, someone not expected to be present when my mother counts heads.'
'Does Paul have a case against Walker?'
'Not really. Walker has given him a lot of breaks.' Brian rolled on his side and pulled himself up on his elbow. 'I don't know if I should say this. I could be way off, but I think Paul does the pranks as a way of making Liza Montgomery live on.'
I thought of how Paul sniffed at her perfume, as if he couldn't get enough of it. My stomach felt queasy and I set down my sandwich.
'Is something wrong?' No.
Brian sat up. 'Jenny, I have to tell you something. It may sound crazy, but I have a feeling it won't.'
I met his eyes warily. 'All right.'
'This morning, when I was talking with my mother, I remembered a conversation I had last summer with Liza Montgomery. I remembered that Liza had a sister named Jenny.'
I looked away.
'According to Liza, Jenny knew a lot about theater, and she had talent, but she was afraid to get up on stage. She never did any acting.'
'No,' I said quietly, 'she did gymnastics.'
I heard his quick intake of breath. He rested his hand on mine. 'Why did you come here?' he asked. 'It has got to be miserable for you.'
'I told her I'd come. I promised Liza I'd visit her. I just'-my voice caught in my throat-'arrived a little late.'
He lifted his hand and touched my cheek gently. 'I'm sorry. I'm really sorry about what happened.'
I nodded, pressing my lips together, hoping he wouldn't hear the sob building in my throat. He leaned closer and brushed my hair back from my face.
'There is something else I want to know, but I'll ask when you're feeling better.'
'Ask now,' I said.
He waited a minute, until I was breathing more regularly. 'Does anyone here know who you are?'
I shook my head.
'You're sure?'
'There would be no reason for them to know. I don't look like Liza or act like her, and most people, like you, wouldn't expect me to come here after what happened. I love Liza with all my heart, but, as you probably noticed, she was a person who spent a lot of time thinking and talking about herself. I'm sure she bragged about Dad, but truthfully, I'm surprised you ever heard she had a sister.'
'It came up once, in a conversation about the pros and cons of being involved with theater when your parents are. That's something Liza and I shared.
But, Jenny, don't you see, if I heard your name and finally made the connection, somebody else might.' I suppose.
'Does Mike know?'
'I'm sure he doesn't.' If Mike had figured it out, he wouldn't have lied to me about his relationship to Liza.
'It worries me,' Brian continued. 'Because if Mike knows, Paul knows-they're close. And Paul was totally obsessed with Liza, still is. If he finds out you're her sister, he might…' His voice trailed off.
'What?' I asked.
I thought he was going to answer, then he changed his mind. 'I don't know. My imagination's working overtime.'
'Brian, have you ever thought that Liza might have been killed by someone other than the serial murderer?'
'I guess everyone here looked at everyone else when we first heard about her death. But then we learned that the murder had the trademark of the serial killer who was working his way up the East Coast.'
