032 High Marks for Malice (13 page)

Nancy shook her head. “That’s no good. They won’t take us seriously unless we can hand them hard evidence, like one of those faked diplomas—but it’s all just gone up in smoke.”

“There’s still Maria’s program,” Ned offered. He snapped his fingers. “We’d better get over to the Fish Tank before our friends do. I’ll bet they’re on their way there to destroy the program!”

“They wouldn’t risk it,” Maria said. “Not with Marty there. They’d access the program from somewhere else.”

“Like where?” Nancy asked.

“Well, they can log onto the mainframe from the computer center at the administration building. But it’s awfully late—it’s probably locked.”

“Locked doors don’t seem to be a problem for these guys,” Nancy remarked. “I think we should head over there. It’s our only chance to get any proof against them.” She looked around anxiously. “Let’s go before the police get here, or we’ll be stuck for hours.”

They eased through the trees until they were out of sight, then raced toward the Administration Building. Approaching from the rear, they skirted along one side. All the offices were dark except one.

“Whose office is that?” Nancy whispered. The question was answered when a familiar figure crossed hurriedly in front of the window, then moved out of sight. It was Mr. Chapin, the registrar. In a moment, he passed again, a stack of papers in his arms.

“We’ll have to wait for him to leave,” Maria groaned.

They watched curiously as Chapin went to a large picture on the wall. He pushed it aside to reveal the door of a safe. Opening it, he removed a stack of files and shoved them into a briefcase on his desk. Then he crossed to a coat rack to retrieve a white jacket. Folding it quickly, he stuffed it, too, into the briefcase.

“He travels a lot to address alumni groups,” Cass said. “I guess he’s going out of town.”

Frustrated, Nancy said, “We can’t waste time while he packs. We’d better get back to the Fish Tank. Maria, is there anything you can do from there to prevent someone from erasing your program?”

“I’m not sure. I can try.”

“Then let’s go,” Nancy said. The teenagers took off running.

When they arrived at the Fish Tank they saw Marty sitting at the computer, his back to the door.

“Marty—” Nancy began.

“Welcome back,” he said and swiveled around in the chair. “Anybody know where I can take some boxing lessons?”

Nancy gasped. Marty’s glasses were broken. One eye was swollen closed. A knot the size of a Ping-Pong ball decorated his left temple, and his lip was split.

“Bro—ther!” Ned exclaimed. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t ask.” Marty grinned, then winced and touched his lip gingerly. “I was sitting here trying to analyze Maria’s program when somebody reached around and snatched my glasses off. Smart, because without them I can’t see a thing.”

“Look at his poor face!” Maria said.

“Then he—I’m sure it was a he, but that’s all—punched me, and when I wouldn’t go down, he used my head for a baseball. Knocked me cold. While I was out, he erased the program.”

“Oh, no!” Maria slumped against the desk.

Nancy struggled with her despair. All that time they’d wasted watching Chapin pack! “Well, it’s not a total loss. We still have the printout.”

“You were smart to make copies of it and keep the original,” Marty said. “Our man took the one I was using.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ned said. “I made five of them. But you should put ice on the swelling immediately. I’ll get some.”

“There’s an ice machine in the basement,” Cass said. “Take the hallway past the spa and go down the back steps. It’s at the rear of the building.”

“Be right back.” He sprinted out.

Cass stooped beside Marty, peering at the swelling. “Whoever hit you was a southpaw,” she said. “Pick isn’t.”

“But Mr. Chapin is,” Nancy said, her thoughts skidding around. “Left-handed, I mean.”

“Mr. Chapin?” Maria squeaked, her eyes round with alarm. “You think he’s in on this, too?”

“Does he know computers?” Nancy asked.

“You bet,” Marty said. “He even has a computer terminal at home linked to the school.”

Suddenly all color drained from Maria’s face. “Oh, Nancy! I just realized—it didn’t even register!”

“What?” Nancy asked.

“I only wrote one print command into my
program. But tonight there were two! They added a step. When I hit the second command it must have signaled Mr. Chapin’s computer that the laser was being activated! And his house is right across the street!”

“Where does Pickering live?” Nancy asked. A feeling of certainty was growing within her. The solution to this case was in sight.

“Four houses down from me,” Marty said, his unswollen eye widening.

“Within walking distance of the carillon,” Nancy said, her expression grim. “All Chapin had to do was phone Pickering to warn him the laser printer had been activated by someone here. Chapin comes to see who’s at the computer—”

“Knocks yours truly into next week,” Marty supplied angrily. “And erases the program.”

“Meanwhile, Pickering goes to the carillon, hears us inside, and sets a fire.”

“And who turned up in the emergency room right after Line was admitted?” Cass said. “Mr. Chapin! No wonder he was so concerned about how Line was doing!”

In that instant everything fell into place for Nancy. Why hadn’t she seen it earlier? “He wasn’t just packing, he was getting rid of evidence! He—” She stopped, as a horrifying realization hit her. “That jacket!” She bolted for the door. “Come on, Cass! We’ve got to get to the hospital!”

“Why?” Cass asked, grabbing her purse and rushing after Nancy.

“I’ll explain on the way. Oh!” Nancy stopped, already halfway down the steps. “I don’t have the keys to the car!”

“I’ve got Line’s,” Cass said, her voice echoing the urgency she’d picked up from Nancy. “It’s out back.”

Maria started down. “What about Ned?”

“Can’t wait,” Nancy called up. “Stay until he gets back. Tell him to get to the hospital fast! Chapin’s white jacket was a lab coat! He’s on his way to kill Line!”

T
HEY PULLED INTO
the hospital parking lot and hopped out.

“We’ve got to get past the two nurses working Line’s end of the hall,” Nancy said, thinking aloud. “Here’s what we’ll do.”

As they stepped into the elevator Nancy outlined her plan. Cass listened carefully and finally said, “If it’s our only chance to save Line I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do fine.” Nancy gave her arm a squeeze of encouragement.

The elevator doors opened on the sixth floor.

They were in luck. As they peered in the
windows of the doors of the Intensive Care Unit, one nurse hurried into a room, pushing a cart.

“Terrific!” Nancy said. She stepped back into the waiting room where she couldn’t be seen.

Cass stuck her head in to catch the attention of the remaining nurse, one they had seen before during a visit. “Here she comes,” Cass whispered.

The door squeaked, and Nancy heard the nurse. “Sorry, honey, but you’re too late. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I know. I had car trouble or I’d have been here on time. How’s Line doing?”

“Fine, except he’s very upset because we won’t let him use the phone.”

“The phone! He’s awake?” Cass’s voice rose to a squeak.

“Didn’t you know? He woke up right after you and your friend left. I told your friend when he called a little while ago.”

“What friend?”

“He said his name was Ned.”

A heartbeat of silence went by. Both girls knew Ned hadn’t called. “When did he call?”

Nancy relaxed a little. Cass was asking all the right questions.

“About an hour ago,” the nurse answered. “I told him Mr. Sheffield was awake and doing very well.”

“Does Line remember what happened to him?”

“If he does, he shows no signs of it. Head injuries are funny. He may never remember, or it may come back eventually or in a flash. You just never know.”

“Hey!” Cass said suddenly. “Are your patients allowed to wander around like that?”

“Like what?” the nurse asked, alarm in her voice.

“Like the one who just went through that exit at the end of the hall.”

“Excuse me,” the nurse said. Her footsteps became fainter.

“Now!”
Cass whispered. “Hurry, Nancy!”

Nancy scooted out of the waiting room and onto the ward. The nurse disappeared through the door at the end of the corridor as Nancy darted into Line’s room. To her relief, the curtains were drawn at the window that looked out onto the hallway. She could not be seen.

“Who’s there?” a hoarse voice croaked.

Nancy spun around. The room was dark. She could barely see him. “Line? Shhh. I’m Nancy Drew. Ned Nickerson’s girlfriend, remember?”

“Ned? Ned, is that you?” It was obvious that Line was still a little confused.

“It’s not Ned; it’s Nancy—” The sound of footsteps sent Nancy scrambling for the tiny bathroom.

“Ned. Glad you’re here,” he murmured sleepily. Then he was silent.

Voices filtered through the door as the nurses
discussed the person Cass said she’d seen. “Uh-oh,” one said. “Mrs. Troop’s monitor’s gone haywire again. I’m going to need help with this.”

“Okay,” her coworker said. “I can spare a minute.”

They moved away and Nancy relaxed. Obviously, so had Line. He was sleeping. Nancy could tell from the sound of his breathing, which was slow and even.

After listening for a moment, Nancy opened the door. With lightning reflex, she pulled it closed almost immediately. Someone had slipped silently into the room. She was sure it wasn’t Cass. Her job was to keep the nurses distracted. Could it be Ned?

She opened the door just far enough to see. A tall man in a lab coat and baggy white pants. A doctor? Opening the door another inch, Nancy stared at the figure at the bed.

It was Chapin! And now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the object in his hand: a hypodermic needle. It was poised to inject Line with something that would undoubtedly finish the job he’d failed to complete in the bell tower!

Nancy punched the call button on the wall to summon the nurses. At the same instant, she shoved the door open wide. The registrar wheeled around in surprise. Throwing herself at him, she slapped his hand upward and sent the syringe flying.

Recognizing her now, Chapin snarled and grabbed her around the throat, his long fingers closing around her neck. Pushing her backward across Line’s body, he began to squeeze.

The impact woke Line and he gasped in pain. He moaned, “My ribs! Hey, what—Mr. Chapin!” His voice quavered, full of terror. “It was you—Help! Nurse!”

But Line was far too weak to be heard beyond the walls of his room. Nancy hoped one of the nurses would show up soon. Chapin’s strong hands were tightening around her neck. She gasped for air. She had to break free or in seconds she would black out.

Clasping her own hands together, she slashed upward, hitting him squarely under the chin. His head snapped backward, and his fingers loosened their hold around her neck. Nancy jerked out of his grasp, rolled toward the foot of the bed, and stood up. She spun around and delivered a vicious karate chop to the back of Chapin’s neck. He slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The door flew open. “What is it, Mr. Sheffield?” One of the nurses reached in, and light flooded the room. She gaped at Nancy and the man on the floor. “How’d you get in here? What happened to Doctor—” She moved closer. “Who is that? He’s not on staff here!”

Line, one hand pressed against his side, gasped, “That’s Mr. Chapin, the registrar at Basson. He pushed me out of the carillon. I guess
he came back to finish me off, and he just tried to kill Nancy, too.”

Nancy examined Chapin closely to make sure he was really out. Then she looked up at the nurse. “Would you call the police, please? This man is wanted for murder.”

• • •

The next day was New Year’s Eve. Line had been moved to Room 429. Nancy, Ned, Cass, Maria, and Marty tiptoed up to his door. On cue, they started serenading him with a New Year’s song. Then, laughing, they piled into his room. Cass handed him a bouquet of flowers.

Line smiled sheepishly at Cass. As they sat down, Dr. Garrison poked his head in the door. “Hey, go easy on the patient, guys,” he joked. “And you,” he continued, pointing at Nancy. “You owe me a story.”

“She saved my life,” Line said.

“I didn’t do it alone,” Nancy reminded him. “Everyone helped.”

“You’re being modest,” Ned said and draped an arm around her shoulder. “Tell him, Nan.”

“Okay. Well, thanks to Jim Pickering, I know the whole story now,” Nancy said. “He talked as soon as the police brought him in and he saw Chapin in cuffs. I heard every word.”

“Mr. Chapin never opened his mouth,” Cass added, “except to yell for his lawyer.”

“He’ll need one,” Nancy said. “Apparently,
this whole scam started fifteen years ago. An old Basson student who’d been caught cheating on an exam and was kicked out his senior year called Chapin. This guy offered Chapin a thousand dollars for a diploma.”

“Why?” Dr. Garrison asked.