It was the night before the mid-term algebra exams. Teacher Margaret Jokiel, a pretty blonde of 24, went off to a concert, to relax before the big day. She left her mother alone in the parlor. A little after 9, the phone rang.
Was Margaret there, a small soprano voice asked. Mrs. Jokiel said no. "Well," said the voice, "if she doesn't pass everyone in math tomorrow, she'll soon be pushing up daisies." Mrs. Jokiel, a teacher herself, thought the call was probably a joke. But a few minutes later, gunfire echoed through the quiet Brooklyn street. Bullets zinged through windows, smacked...
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