The Headmaster's List
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For Mike and Mattie, always
In the end,
one of them was dead,
one was in jail
one was in rehab
and only one graduated.
Eighteen, headstrong and stubborn.
Seventeen, and headed to play soccer for Michigan.
Sixteen, and just got their driver’s license.
Fifteen, and just along for the ride.
One of them was driving.
One of them was high.
One of them screamed.
One of them died.
ONE
SPENCER COULDN’T TAKE HER EYES away from the officer’s pen as it hovered over his report, patiently waiting. The cap of the pen had been chewed like a dog toy. Her head throbbed, pain all over. She blinked, realizing he’d asked her a question.
“What?”
Spencer’s mother squeezed her hand and said, “Can’t we do this some other time?”
“I understand that, Dr. Sandoval. I truly do. However, a child died. We take these things very seriously.”
Spencer’s gaze landed on his badge. Officer Potentas, no, Detective Potentas. He’d introduced himself earlier. Her brain was hazy around the edges, like a cloud. How much time had passed? A second? An hour? The drip of the IV was cool in her arm. Spencer could sink right through the hospital bed and onto the floor.
“Okay, Spencer, let’s try again. What happened last night? Can you walk me through it?”
Scream. Float. Crash. An eternity in the blink of an eye. Who screamed? Did she?
“There was an accident,” she said, and swallowed, her throat dry. Her teeth felt too big for her mouth, or maybe it was the other way around. He wrote as she spoke. “We were at a party … Before school starts. End of summer. In the hills.”
End of summer. End of Spencer. Her heart pounded. Why was it so hard to breathe? She didn’t feel real. She wasn’t sure she was talking; in fact, she wasn’t sure she had a mouth and she folded her lips over her front teeth. Drip-drip went the IV, away-away went the pain. Cloud nine.
“Do you remember who was in the vehicle with you?”
“My boyfr—Ethan.”
“The driver.”
Spencer’s breath hitched. Scream. Float. Crash. Pain. Ethan.
“Do you remember what happened next?”
When she screwed up her face, remembering, the skin on her cheeks pinched. Stitches from her cheekbone to her jaw. Sewed together like a doll. Chewed up like the detective’s pen cap. “No. I can’t … think.”
“She’s on sedatives, Detective,” her mother said. Her brown hair was so shiny, like a penny. Spencer wanted to reach out to touch it, but her other hand was in a cast and too heavy.
“I know this is difficult. But everyone’s story checks out. I’ll be in touch.”
One minute the detective was sitting at the foot of her hospital bed, and the next he’d teleported to the door where Spencer’s father stood, holding Spencer’s sister’s hand while talking to a doctor. The detective said something to him, and her sister Hope looked at her and something inside Spencer snapped.
She cried, blinked, reliving it all over again. Scream. Float. Crash. She had to go. Run for help. Her mother held her down and called out, and a nurse rushed in and pushed a button on the IV. More cold snaked up her arm. Sink into the bed. Let it swallow her up. Sleep came over her like a wave crashing on shore.
“Shoo … shoo…” Her tongue felt like a worm trying to crawl out of her mouth.
“He’s going, sweetie. He’s leaving,” her mother said, squeezing her hand.
Her lids were almost closed, going bye-bye. Scream. Float. Crash.
Bliss took her away.
OFFICIAL COPY
Los Angeles Police Department
Crash Report Form
Crash Severity
Fatal / Injury / PDO
Time & Location Information
Date of Crash: 03/SEP/2021
Time of Crash: 2:30 A.M.
Time Officer Arrived: 2:34 A.M.
Weather Conditions: Clear
Road Hazards: None
At Intersection: Sunset Blvd & Benedict Canyon Dr
Number of Motor Vehicles: 1
Number Injured: 3
Number Fatal: 1
Section 1
Vehicle Year: 2019
Make: Porsche
Vehicle Type: Automobile
Use: Private Transportation
Airbag deployed: Yes
State: CA
Vehicle Identification Number:
Vehicle Speed Est. 120 mph
Posted Speed: 45
Section 2
Name of Driver: Ethan Amoroso
Current Address:
Date of Birth: 12/NOV/2003
Driver License Number:
Injury Status: Minor injuries, declined transport
Drug & Alc. Test: Pending
Section 3
Please Fill Out for All Other Occupants Involved
Spencer Sandoval—18—F—Injuries requiring hospital transport
Tabby Hill—16—F—Minor injuries, declined transport
Christopher Moore—15—M—Fatal
Officer’s Notes: Vehicle 1 collision—damage extensive—no fire. No immediate danger to first responders. Impact with tree (standing). Light conditions dark-lighted. Weather clear. Driver sitting on pavement next to Passenger 2 prone, unconscious. Driver suffered injuries to head and shoulder. Passenger 2 had substantial injuries to arm and face. Passenger 3 emotionally distressed on curb, visible facial injuries. Passenger 4 remained in vehicle, fatal status. Resuscitation unnecessary. EMS arrived at 2:45 A.M. Driver and Passenger 3 declined transport. Driver claims they were coming home from a party in the hills. No tire marking to indicate brakes were applied. Driver tested for alcohol and drugs on-site. Pending results.
Officer Diagram Attached
Case Status: Open
Get Salty: A True Crime Podcast with Peyton Salt
[Get Salty Intro Music]
Peyton Salt:
Welcome and good listening, Salters. As always, I’m your host, Peyton Salt.
Sasha Firth:
And I’m your cohost, Sasha. You’re listening to Get Salty, now the twenty-fourth most downloaded true crime podcast on Earworm, the world’s most popular podcast hosting network!
Peyton:
Twenty-fourth! Incredible! Can you believe it? We love you all so much, Salters. Our fans are so supportive, and we look forward to getting some new merch available on our website as a special thank-you. Maybe some mugs or pins. We’ll do a poll on our subreddit so people can decide! How does it feel, Sash?
Sasha:
Unreal. I get to share my love of true crime with all of you!
Peyton:
Oh, for sure! But this week, I’ve got a story for you, Sasha, that is as juicy—if not the juiciest yet, because this one is recent and hits close to home for me.
Sasha:
Oh yeah? Tell me more!
[SFX: crickets, tires screeching, crash]
Peyton:
In the early hours of September third, just a few days ago, a parent’s worst nightmare—a phone call, informing them their child wouldn’t be coming home. In a place like Los Angeles, the home of the rich and famous, one might be surprised to find themselves surrounded by death and tragedy. After a frantic nine-one-one call, EMTs arrived on the scene to find a black Porsche 911 Targa wrapped around a palm tree at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Benedict Canyon, a scene of terrible carnage in the center of Beverly Hills’s glitz and glamour. The driver and owner of the vehicle is Ethan Amoroso—
Sasha:
How do I know that name?
Peyton:
I’m so glad you asked! We covered a case a while back—
Sasha:
Oh! The house party!
Peyton:
Exactly. Episode one thirty-one, for anyone who wants to go back and listen. I know you Salters are already googling it furiously as I speak! [laughs] But for anyone who needs a refresher—the driver and owner of the vehicle is Ethan Amoroso, All-State athlete and millionaire’s son and classmate of mine, the same Ethan Amoroso who two years ago was at the center of a huge scandal involving a serious accident at a party at his house in Brentwood, an incredibly affluent neighborhood in Los Angeles. Allegedly, the victim fell off a second-story balcony, suffering extensive injuries to the head, neck, and back, leaving the victim in a coma.
Sasha:
That’s awful!
Peyton:
Usually we don’t cover these kinds of cases, just because they’re tragic if not common, but you can see wh
y this one caught my interest. Star athlete, the Brentwood neighborhood, an obvious suspect.
Sasha:
Now I know what you meant when you said this case was “juicy.” Like OJ!
Peyton:
[laughs] It’s true, the murder of Nicole Brown Simpson did happen in Brentwood, but that’s an entirely different case. We’re not here to speculate, obviously, but you can see why I was so excited to share this! These kinds of things just don’t happen in Brentwood. Ethan’s involvement in one accident is a tragedy, but two accidents … let’s say, my eyebrows are raised! Ethan hadn’t been charged with anything before. Who knows what will happen now?
Sasha:
What do you know so far?
Peyton:
Ethan Amoroso and three others had been driving home from a party celebrating the end of summer, one last rager before school starts, in a residential development property called Highwood Estates in the hills when he crashed at high speed, shredding the car to ribbons. Only one person in the vehicle died. The victim, fifteen-year-old Chris Moore, was adored by just about everyone. He was about to start his sophomore year at a private school called Armstrong Prep.
Sasha:
Ooh la la. Sounds fancy.
Peyton:
[laughs] I know I risk doxing myself because I’m a junior at Armstrong, but I’d be doing a disservice to the community not talking about it. The tailored uniforms, the designer backpacks, daddy’s money—definitely not my style, but it’s the norm at Armstrong. Ranked top in the country in academics and athletics, Armstrong Prep is a private school for the rich and soon-to-be famous. Nestled among the meticulously green lawns of movie stars and tech moguls in the hills, it’s the perfect spot for privilege to go unchecked, a sort of bubble from the real world. Ethan and all the others in the car are students there, one of them was even his girlfriend, I know them all personally and the incident has shaken me to my core. For sure, this is a tragic way to start the new school year.
Sasha:
So the police don’t think it was an accident?
Peyton:
They want to charge Ethan for aggravated reckless driving and child endangerment, but they haven’t arrested him yet. At the end of the day, I mean, it was an accident, but a senseless and selfish one.
Sasha:
The cops sound real serious about this. Are they doing anything about it?
Peyton:
Well yeah, an innocent kid died, Ethan put everyone in that car in danger. It could have been so much worse than it actually was. He could have hit another car even! Ethan had been going over one-hundred-and-twenty miles an hour before he crashed. I’ve got the police report right here.
Sasha:
Drugs? Alcohol?
Peyton:
It was a high school party in LA, of course there were drugs and alcohol. Duh. But the toxicology report on the driver hasn’t come in yet. Since the case is so new, there’s no other information to confirm, but it’s safe to say that I won’t be surprised if we find out he was drunk or high. He has a reputation after all.
Sasha:
Horrible. What kind of person would do that?
Peyton:
Someone who’s not told no a whole lot. He actually just returned from a stint at a behavioral rehabilitation center—basically military school, but he came back to Armstrong Prep for his senior year. Could it be that he hasn’t learned his lesson?
Sasha:
Was Ethan the one hosting the party again? Like that accident before?
Peyton:
No, for once. This party was thrown by the son of a multimillion-dollar housing developer, using the unfinished mansions like their own personal playground. Out in Mandeville Canyon, most of the houses are just skeletons of what their grandeur will soon be. Because they’re empty and on winding streets up the mountain, with excellent views of the ocean by the way, it’s the perfect location for a party to run wild. No neighbors to complain about the noise. No running water, no electricity, no rules. Rich kids just party different from the rest of us. Armstrong is like that.
Sasha:
What makes the school so special?
Peyton:
At Armstrong, there’s this thing called the Headmaster’s List. Only a few students are chosen every year, but everyone tries to make the cut since it’s a surefire way to get into the best colleges. The Headmaster himself writes your recommendation. It’s super competitive. Think of it as an honor roll but on steroids.
Sasha:
Are you on it?
Peyton:
No, sadly. I’d kill for a spot. But I’m too busy with this podcast anyway! Guess who is, though! None other than Ethan Amoroso. The crazy part is that everyone in that car was on the List too. The only one who wasn’t was the victim, Chris Moore.
Sasha:
That’s crazy! I hope justice can be served, that Ethan will face the consequences of his actions.
Peyton:
We’ll see about that. His family is wealthy, like, absurdly wealthy. His parents are on what the school calls the “Headmaster’s Circle,” an exclusive club only for the richest donors to the school. It’s easy for Armstrong to look the other way when you’re in the Circle, especially when your family is helping to pay for a new stadium or the year’s theater production. Is he on the Headmaster’s List because of his daddy’s money? Who knows. But I’ve been going to private school long enough to be cynical about these types of things. He’s going to have a ton of resources on his side, but one can only hope that the case against him is strong. It’s a shadowy reminder that privilege is a real problem. Being in Armstrong’s good graces has shielded him from a lot of consequences. Affluenza is a disease! That’s why I want to start a fundraiser for the victim’s family, so I’ll set up a link on our Instagram page where you can donate in their time of mourning. Maybe we’ll add a pin or T-shirts, showing support and getting the word out about the case. Justice for Chris! I plan to keep you and all our Salters up to date on this case as it inevitably proceeds. But first, a word from our sponsors …
[End segment transcript]
Update from the Uploader:
BREAKING:
Ethan Amoroso has been charged with felony manslaughter! Stay tuned for more episodes!
TWO
SPENCER WAS SECRETLY GRATEFUL THAT her parents had left her in peace for a couple minutes. If the doctors hadn’t interfered, they would continue to fuss over her, constantly asking her every five minutes if she needed anything. Sleep. Lots of sleep. Maybe some more pain meds. A snack. And a book, something mindless. Her dad, chronically unable to sit still, went to the bookstore in the hospital lobby, no doubt picking up some reading material for them all, and her mom went to the cafeteria, hopefully grabbing Spencer as much cake and chocolate as her stomach could handle.