Garden of Evil by Graham Masterton

misunderstood what you’ve written here. You want to explain it to me?’
    â€˜I don’t just want everybody in the class to know that I’m smarter, sir,’ he said, under his breath, but with fierce intensity. ‘I want
everybody
to know that I’m smarter.’
    â€˜Like everybody on the planet?’
    Kyle nodded so enthusiastically that his spectacles nearly dropped off. Jim gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and moved on to the next student, who was sitting at Kyle’s right elbow. He was a Chinese-American boy whose glossy black hair was cut into a bowl shape, with a fringe so low that Jim could hardly see his eyes. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a large white number 8 on the back, and he had red-and-green dragon’s-tail tattoos all the way up his left arm, disappearing into his sleeve.
    His essay was five lines written in a strange spidery handwriting. ‘Paradise will come on the day when Wo Hop To is gone and Chung Ching Yee is gone and also Vietnamese Boyz and all is Wah Ching. On that day I will walk like a god.’
    Jim said, ‘What’s your name, son?’
    â€˜Xiao Chang but everybody calls me Joe.’
    â€˜All right, Joe,’ said Jim, holding up his essay. ‘These Chinese names you have here – Wo Hop To and Chung Ching Yee, etcetera – these are all Chinese street gangs. Apart from the Vietnamese Boyz, anyhow, and half of
them
are Chinese.’
    Joe Chang nodded, and kept turning his pencil over and over, end to end.
    â€˜Are you a member of Wah Ching?’
    â€˜Not any more, sir. When I live with my parents in Monterey Park I was Wah Ching. But now my father move to West Grove, I don’t hang out with them no more.’
    â€˜But you’d still like to? That’s your idea of Paradise?’
    Joe Chang clenched his fist. ‘In Wah Ching,’ he said, ‘I always felt like I got
strength
,’ although he pronounced it ‘
strempf
.’
    â€˜Nobody stand in our way. Nobody. They dreaded us, is why. They dreaded us! Strength like that,
that’s
Paradise.’
    â€˜Wow, OK. I see. Maybe it’s Paradise for you. But how about the people who dread you? Not exactly Paradise for them, is it?’
    â€˜I was only asked to write about
my
Paradise, sir. Nobody else’s.’
    Jim was about to go on to the next student when there was a knock at the door, and Detective Carroll came in. She crossed straight over to Jim and cupped her hand around her mouth so that the class couldn’t hear what she was saying, although her hair tickled Jim’s left ear.
    â€˜Mr Rook? Everything’s clear now, outside, although the primary crime scene is still cordoned off and we still have at least half a day of forensic work to do. We’ve consulted with Doctor Ehrlichman and we’ve agreed that college will close early today, and try to make a fresh start tomorrow morning.’
    â€˜Oh, OK,’ said Jim. He turned around to Special Class Two and said, ‘Looks like Paradise will have to be postponed for now. You can all pack up your books and beat it.’
    They began to push back their chairs back and noisily gather up their belongings, and it seemed like all of their iPhones started warbling and ringing and playing music all at once. As they shuffled out of the classroom, Jim called out, ‘Just one thing I want you to think of overnight! You’re trapped in a space capsule, right? Going round and round the Earth with no prospect of being rescued for at least a year! You’re allowed to take one book with you! Let me know tomorrow which book you would choose!’
    As Simon Silence came past him, slinging his white gunny sack over his shoulder, Jim said, ‘Shouldn’t be a problem for you, Simon, choosing a book.’
    Simon raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t quite understand.
    â€˜Well . . . your father being a reverend and all. There’s only one really