thought Mr. Thomas A. Thompson had robbed his own store for the insurance money. When he couldn’t prove his case, that policeman not only lost his job, he was sued by Mr. Thompson. Thompson lost his law suit, but the cost of the case wiped out that police officer and destroyed his family.”
I didn’t know what to say. Mr. Thomas Thompson was now Mayor Thompson. He owned a big construction company, a new car dealership, a discount electronics store, a small chain of frozen yogurt shops, and I’d seen his name on some kind of stock brokerage firm downtown. Thomas Thompson was the richest and most powerful man in town. His son, Ben Thompson, was in my civics class; he was dumb as a post and one of the school’s biggest bullies. “Are you talking about Mayor Thompson?” I asked, just to be sure.
“He wasn’t mayor then,” Mr. Greenwald continued. “In fact, he was almost bankrupt. He was what they call leveraged in gold. That means he’d borrowed a lot of money based on the price of gold and the price of gold was dropping. That meant he owed a lot of money he couldn’t pay back. Not unless a miracle happened. Like a robbery. He used the insurance money from the robbery to start his construction business, and from there he started—”
“Wait a minute! Did his construction company build this school?” I asked.
Mr. Greenwald sat down next to me and looked deeply into my eyes. “You do know something about all this, don’t you?”
Now it was my turn to stand up and pace. I didn’t know what I thought. All I knew was I had a lot of half-ideas running around inside my head. I needed to say some of them out loud. I needed to start putting them together and making sense of them. But now that I was ready to talk about them, I couldn’t figure out how to start. I mean, when you came right down to it, what did I really know?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
But ideas were starting to form. Just baby ideas now, but I knew if I left them alone for a while they would group themselves together in my brain and begin to grow. Pretty soon I’d have a notion, then a thought, and then—well, then I’d have this whole ghost thing figured out.
But at that moment I realized I had nothing. I felt terrible! For a few seconds I really thought I had something. Now I looked at the floor sheepishly and sat back down. I glanced up at Mr. Greenwald. He patted my arm and stood up. He crossed to his desk and sat down. He took off his glasses and stared out the window, saying nothing.
I felt as if I’d let him down—but I didn’t know exactly how I’d let him down. I started to get up to leave, but suddenly I realized there was a lot of Mr. Greenwald’s story he hadn’t told me yet. “I still don’t understand what you were doing dressed like that at school last night. What does all this have to do with you?”
Mr. Greenwald put his glasses back on and picked up the pile of papers he had been working on when I walked in to his class. He tapped the papers on his desk, a clear sign that our meeting was basically over. “The policeman whose life was destroyed, that policeman was my father. I’ve sworn to solve the case and clear his name.”
Mr. Greenwald lay the papers back on his desk, took out his red pen, and began reading. He made a quick mark on the top sheet, turned it over and began reading the next sheet. I stood up awkwardly, not knowing if I should say anything or not, not knowing what I could say, and left the classroom. Mr. Greenwald didn’t look up or say another word as I left.
Chapter 12
Ben Thompson
After I left Mr. Greenwald’s class I was really at a loss for what to do. My mind was reeling from everything he’d told me, but I still felt tired and drained from my experiences with Mr. Greenwald and the ghost last night; my head felt as if it was filled with wet cotton. None of the ideas trying to swim around in there stood a chance right now.
What I really need to do was go home and get
I didn’t know what to say. Mr. Thomas Thompson was now Mayor Thompson. He owned a big construction company, a new car dealership, a discount electronics store, a small chain of frozen yogurt shops, and I’d seen his name on some kind of stock brokerage firm downtown. Thomas Thompson was the richest and most powerful man in town. His son, Ben Thompson, was in my civics class; he was dumb as a post and one of the school’s biggest bullies. “Are you talking about Mayor Thompson?” I asked, just to be sure.
“He wasn’t mayor then,” Mr. Greenwald continued. “In fact, he was almost bankrupt. He was what they call leveraged in gold. That means he’d borrowed a lot of money based on the price of gold and the price of gold was dropping. That meant he owed a lot of money he couldn’t pay back. Not unless a miracle happened. Like a robbery. He used the insurance money from the robbery to start his construction business, and from there he started—”
“Wait a minute! Did his construction company build this school?” I asked.
Mr. Greenwald sat down next to me and looked deeply into my eyes. “You do know something about all this, don’t you?”
Now it was my turn to stand up and pace. I didn’t know what I thought. All I knew was I had a lot of half-ideas running around inside my head. I needed to say some of them out loud. I needed to start putting them together and making sense of them. But now that I was ready to talk about them, I couldn’t figure out how to start. I mean, when you came right down to it, what did I really know?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
But ideas were starting to form. Just baby ideas now, but I knew if I left them alone for a while they would group themselves together in my brain and begin to grow. Pretty soon I’d have a notion, then a thought, and then—well, then I’d have this whole ghost thing figured out.
But at that moment I realized I had nothing. I felt terrible! For a few seconds I really thought I had something. Now I looked at the floor sheepishly and sat back down. I glanced up at Mr. Greenwald. He patted my arm and stood up. He crossed to his desk and sat down. He took off his glasses and stared out the window, saying nothing.
I felt as if I’d let him down—but I didn’t know exactly how I’d let him down. I started to get up to leave, but suddenly I realized there was a lot of Mr. Greenwald’s story he hadn’t told me yet. “I still don’t understand what you were doing dressed like that at school last night. What does all this have to do with you?”
Mr. Greenwald put his glasses back on and picked up the pile of papers he had been working on when I walked in to his class. He tapped the papers on his desk, a clear sign that our meeting was basically over. “The policeman whose life was destroyed, that policeman was my father. I’ve sworn to solve the case and clear his name.”
Mr. Greenwald lay the papers back on his desk, took out his red pen, and began reading. He made a quick mark on the top sheet, turned it over and began reading the next sheet. I stood up awkwardly, not knowing if I should say anything or not, not knowing what I could say, and left the classroom. Mr. Greenwald didn’t look up or say another word as I left.
Chapter 12
Ben Thompson
After I left Mr. Greenwald’s class I was really at a loss for what to do. My mind was reeling from everything he’d told me, but I still felt tired and drained from my experiences with Mr. Greenwald and the ghost last night; my head felt as if it was filled with wet cotton. None of the ideas trying to swim around in there stood a chance right now.
What I really need to do was go home and get
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