My student confessed to assaulting another boy. Now he's saying he didn't do it.

On the fourth of November of last year, one of my fourth graders, a boy named Nathan, confessed to bludgeoning one of his classmates in the back of the head with a stick. It was during morning recess, behind the multipurpose building near the back of the school. The boy, Steven, was found unconscious by his homeroom teacher after he failed to return to class. There were no witnesses.
Later that morning, a third grader by the name of Nicole came forward, saying she had seen Nathan alone in the vicinity of the crime during recess. Soon after, Principal Swan called Nathan into his office. A half an hour later, police were called, and another thirty minutes after that, Nathan's mother arrived at the school.
As Nathan's teacher, I found myself involved among those summoned to the office. The officer in charge, a portly, balding man named Jacobs, had separated all parties into separate rooms and was taking dispositions one at a time. I was the last one to be interviewed, by which time everyone involved had gone home for the day.
Nathan was a troubled boy. The kind that never smiled. I told Sgt. Jacobs as much when he asked me to give my opinion on the matter. It's not uncommon for boys his age to quarrel. Sometimes it comes to blows, but with Nathan, it always seemed to go one step further. A broken nose. Another call to his mother, who would always leave Principal Swan's office red faced and in tears. It wasn't the first time he'd been in a spot of trouble, but myself and the other teachers were at a loss as to how to help.
Nathan's mother, Ms. Kea, was a young mom. Too young. She had gotten pregnant with Nathan while still in high school, and had raised the boy on her own. Her parents had thrown her out for birthing out of wedlock; quite the scandal here in Redlands. As for Nathan's father, I had not the heart to inquire.
"Was there a reason he gave for it?" I asked the balding sergeant, not yet knowing that Nathan had already recanted his confession.
"Well," Jacobs began, "According to the principal, Nathan confessed without any fuss. He said that little Steven had stolen something from him. A few Magic: The Gathering cards?whatever those are?and wouldn't give them back. He gave Mr. Swan all the details. Even brought him out to where he had done it and showed him the stick he did it with. It must've been a hell of a blow, or blows as it seems. Said he must've hit the other kid three or four times. The victim's skull was darn-near split in two. Blood all over the place."
"We found the Magic...whatever they're called cards in Stevens backpack, so the part about theft seems to hold up. Swan asked Nathan why he'd choose to sneak up on the kid, to which Nathan said that he'd never be able to take a big boy like Steven fair and square."
To me, everything added up. The motive was clear, he had presented the weapon he'd used. Nathan would almost certainly be expelled, if not brought up on charges. Sgt. Jacobs excused himself while I collected my thoughts, returning a few minutes later with a couple cups of coffee and a leftover donut from the morning staff meeting.
"Mr. Finch," he said after taking a few bites. "What's your opinion on Principal Swan?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"He a good man? Good boss?"
I shrugged. I have been a teacher for nearly thirteen years now, seven of which here at Condor Elementary. Of those seven, Swan had only been present for three. In truth, I didn't think much of the man. Not many teachers think much of administrators anyway. But Swan had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about things. Wasn't afraid to get in your face about it either.
There were rumors, of course. Every school has them, but the ones about Swan were particularly off putting. Apparently he had garnered up quite the gambling debt. Too many weekend trips to the craps tables. He had a ring on his finger, but no one had ever seen or heard of a Mrs. Swan, and whether or not she existed was dependent on who you were talking to.
I kept these things to myself, however, and answered only that Mr. Swan was a fair boss, and that I had no outstanding issues with him during my tenure.
"Well, here's the thing. Nathan never actually confessed to us. Quite the opposite. As soon as we got him in a room with his father, he vehemently denied the accusations."
"What?" I asked, leaning toward the policeman.
"Yeah, it's weird," Jacobs said. "The kid admits to going to confront Steven about the cards. Mustered up the courage to square up to him. But he says that at the last moment, his courage failed him, and he turned and went back to the jungle gym to play with his friends. Says that Principal Swan pressured him to fess up to the attack, saying he'd go easy on him if he'd just confess."
"Sounds like he's realizing that he's in real trouble now and trying to get out of it," I said.
"Yeah. That's what I thought too. But the more he talked, the more things made sense. First, about the cards. Nathan's motivation for smashing Steven's head in was to get them back, right? But the cards were still in Steven's backpack. No one had touched them. Why'd he go through all the trouble just to leave the cards there?"
I said nothing.
"Maybe he forgot. Heat of the moment kind of thing. Kid sees what he's done, panics, and runs off. If it was just that, I wouldn't think much of it," Jacobs continued. "But then he brings up the weapon. The stick, right? Says that Swan took him out to the yard and made him point out a stick that looked hefty enough, so he did."
I couldn't understand what I was hearing. "Sgt. Jacobs," I interjected. "You're suggesting that Mr. Swan pressured the kid into confessing to something he didn't do? Why? What reason would he have to bully a kid like that?"
"Well, now, let me finish," Jacobs held up his hand, imploring me to stop. "The stick was the first thing we took in as evidence. I didn't think anything of it until Nathan started swearing up and down that hadn't done anything. But after I sent him home, I took another look at it. There was no blood on the stick, Mr. Finch. Not only that, but we searched the whole area and found nothing that would fit the bill."
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, but like the Sergeant, I found myself being swayed by the circumstances. We spoke for another ten minutes before he slapped his hands on his knees and sent me on my way. It was already dark outside, and I went to bed that night without any dinner.
The school was closed the next day as an official investigation took place. I was privy to no details after my conversation with Sgt. Jacobs, of course, but I kept my eyes on the morning paper for any crumbs that might trickle down from above.
Steven made a full recovery, and returned to school the following week. No one spoke a word of what had happened until the afternoon of November the 16th, when it was reported on the news that Principal Swan had been formally charged with making a false statement to police.
It's been two months since the incident now. Nathan returned to school in early December, quite reformed from the ordeal. I've kept my eye on him since then, but sometimes, it feels as if he's keeping his eye on me. He smiles now. In fact, he's always smiling. Something I commented on yesterday after class.
"How's your mother doing?" I asked on a whim.
He looked at me then, the shadow of a half grin on his face.
"Just fine, Mr. Finch. She's got no reason to cry anymore."


Source.