Read Online Star Chamber Brotherhood by Preston Fleming - Free Book Online
Authors: Preston Fleming
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toward town. Upon reaching the Old Manse again he noticed a handsome middle-aged man dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt digging in a flowerbed not far from the sidewalk. As he approached he thought the man had a familiar look. Since the most likely connection would be the Academy, Werner asked him if he had been associated with the school as a parent or a teacher.
“Both,” the man replied with a warm smile, introducing himself as Parker Motley.
A few minutes later Werner discovered that both Marie and Justine had taken English courses from Motley. In response to Werner’s many questions, Motley described in detail the final days of Concord Academy and its principal actors, while Werner reciprocated by offering a brief and rather vague account of his work in the West. Werner also disclosed that his wife and daughter Justine had died of the Saigon Flu and that he and Marie had become separated when he was sent West. To Werner’s disappointment, Motley had not heard of Marie since she left Concord years earlier.
“How odd that we should meet just now,” Werner mused. “Barely an hour ago I spoke to another young woman from Marie’s class. She and Marie took English together in tenth grade; perhaps they were your students. Does Monica Cogan ring a bell?”
“Yes, I think I may have taught her,” Motley replied.
Werner noted a sudden coolness in Motley’s voice and wondered whether he knew something about Monica he was unwilling to share. He decided to change the subject and asked Motley how he might reach other students who could provide leads to Marie.
“Is there still an alumni association somewhere, or a CA historical society, or some other vestige that serves as a gathering place for people associated with the old Academy?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Motley replied. “I’m sure that the alumni records and many of the Academy’s historical archives still exist in private hands somewhere but, to my knowledge, there is no public access.”
“Why the secrecy?” Werner persisted. “CA was always such a tightly knit community. I can’t believe all those people would suddenly go incognito.”
“How long have you been away? Four years? Five? Didn’t they have a Moneymen Purge where you were?”
Werner knew the term, but hadn’t run across many of the purged Moneymen in the camps. Either their numbers were few or they hid themselves well or they never reached the camps in the first place.
“Maybe out west where you were, the Moneymen Purge didn’t leave much of an impression,” Motley explained. “But in banking centers, like Boston, it devastated the financial sector top to bottom. I remember it well because the press picked up the Moneymen mantra shortly after the President-for-Life announced his plan to eradicate private education.”
“Please go on,” Werner encouraged him, noticing Motley’s hesitation.
“While the Academy was coping with being forced out of business, many of our board members and parents were being arrested and hauled before grand juries, Congressional committees, and every kind of commission that the politicians could conjure up. Graduates of Ivy League universities and elite New England private schools were singled out for special persecution. To stand up and declare yourself a graduate of an Ivy League college or a New England prep school was like declaring yourself a member of the Nazi Party or the Ku Klux Klan a couple of generations ago.”
Motley’s discomfort was palpable.
“I see what you mean,” Werner replied quietly while he thought of a way to change the subject. “I guess a lot happened while I was away.”
He spotted the garden and spoke again.
“You’re doing a bang-up job with that flower bed,” he told Motley. “How is it that you’re out here gardening on a weekday afternoon? What does an English teacher do for a living without a school?”
“The same thing I did before, except now I’m a tutor. I teach in my
“Both,” the man replied with a warm smile, introducing himself as Parker Motley.
A few minutes later Werner discovered that both Marie and Justine had taken English courses from Motley. In response to Werner’s many questions, Motley described in detail the final days of Concord Academy and its principal actors, while Werner reciprocated by offering a brief and rather vague account of his work in the West. Werner also disclosed that his wife and daughter Justine had died of the Saigon Flu and that he and Marie had become separated when he was sent West. To Werner’s disappointment, Motley had not heard of Marie since she left Concord years earlier.
“How odd that we should meet just now,” Werner mused. “Barely an hour ago I spoke to another young woman from Marie’s class. She and Marie took English together in tenth grade; perhaps they were your students. Does Monica Cogan ring a bell?”
“Yes, I think I may have taught her,” Motley replied.
Werner noted a sudden coolness in Motley’s voice and wondered whether he knew something about Monica he was unwilling to share. He decided to change the subject and asked Motley how he might reach other students who could provide leads to Marie.
“Is there still an alumni association somewhere, or a CA historical society, or some other vestige that serves as a gathering place for people associated with the old Academy?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Motley replied. “I’m sure that the alumni records and many of the Academy’s historical archives still exist in private hands somewhere but, to my knowledge, there is no public access.”
“Why the secrecy?” Werner persisted. “CA was always such a tightly knit community. I can’t believe all those people would suddenly go incognito.”
“How long have you been away? Four years? Five? Didn’t they have a Moneymen Purge where you were?”
Werner knew the term, but hadn’t run across many of the purged Moneymen in the camps. Either their numbers were few or they hid themselves well or they never reached the camps in the first place.
“Maybe out west where you were, the Moneymen Purge didn’t leave much of an impression,” Motley explained. “But in banking centers, like Boston, it devastated the financial sector top to bottom. I remember it well because the press picked up the Moneymen mantra shortly after the President-for-Life announced his plan to eradicate private education.”
“Please go on,” Werner encouraged him, noticing Motley’s hesitation.
“While the Academy was coping with being forced out of business, many of our board members and parents were being arrested and hauled before grand juries, Congressional committees, and every kind of commission that the politicians could conjure up. Graduates of Ivy League universities and elite New England private schools were singled out for special persecution. To stand up and declare yourself a graduate of an Ivy League college or a New England prep school was like declaring yourself a member of the Nazi Party or the Ku Klux Klan a couple of generations ago.”
Motley’s discomfort was palpable.
“I see what you mean,” Werner replied quietly while he thought of a way to change the subject. “I guess a lot happened while I was away.”
He spotted the garden and spoke again.
“You’re doing a bang-up job with that flower bed,” he told Motley. “How is it that you’re out here gardening on a weekday afternoon? What does an English teacher do for a living without a school?”
“The same thing I did before, except now I’m a tutor. I teach in my
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