Killer Connections

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Nigel Nabb,” I said. Guessing that Darity didn’t spend much time watching R and F Report, I quickly gave him the 411 on the guy. “He’s been poking around campus for at least the past hour or so,” I added.

  “I see.” Darity looked concerned but not too alarmed. “Well, we do get the odd gossip reporter up here now and then. No wonder, given that our student body comes from some of the most esteemed names on the Forbes 500. I’ll look into it.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Because if he figures out what’s been going on—”

  Darity’s phone rang, cutting me off. Like almost everything else in the office, it was old-fashioned and dusty.

  “Excuse me, fellows,” Darity said as he reached for it. “Unless there’s anything else …”

  Joe and I stood. “Nothing important,” I said. “We’ll keep you posted, sir.”

  We grabbed Killer and headed for the door. As we opened it, the dog’s hackles rose and he let out a growl.

  “Easy, boy,” said Joe. “What are you—oh.”

  We’d both just spotted Nigel Nabb. He was scuttling down the dim, dusty hallway, heading away from Darity’s office door.

  He turned around when he realized he’d been spotted. “Hullo, chaps. Fascinating old building, isn’t it? Just getting some location shots.” He patted his camera and flashed us an ingratiating smile.

  Joe narrowed his eyes. “Location shots, huh?” he said. “Isn’t it a little dark in here for that?”

  “Oh, you’d be amazed by what today’s technology can do.” Nigel’s smile never wavered. The guy was good.

  I looked nervously at the microphone he was holding. Today’s technology indeed. The thing was so high-tech it made the space shuttle look like a paper airplane. Exactly how sensitive was it? Sensitive enough to, say, pick up on a couple of ATAC agents’ voices through some thick old walls?

  “Come on,” I said to Joe. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We headed for the exit. Killer kept tossing suspicious glances back at Nigel. I knew how he felt.

  “That was interesting,” Joe said as soon as we emerged onto the steps outside. “Think he heard anyth—”

  KA-BOOOOM! The rest of his comment was swallowed up in an ear-shattering explosion from somewhere close by.

  Weird Science

  Come on!” I yelled, taking the steps three at a time. “That came from the direction of the frat houses!”

  Killer was ahead of me, and Frank right at my heels. We raced down the alley between Firth Hall and the next building. That brought us in view of fraternity row—and the huge smoking hole in the lawn in front of the GTT house!

  “Whoa,” said Frank. “Wasn’t there a tree there?”

  “Was being the operative word,” I said.

  We rushed over. GTT brothers were pouring out of the house. Most of them looked pretty shaken. No wonder. It’s not every day half your front yard explodes.

  “What was that?” one of the guys shouted.

  Spencer was staring at the pile of matchsticks that had once been a tree. “Oh, man!” he exclaimed.

  There was a moment of chaos. People were running around, shouting. One or two of them appeared to be bleeding. The explosion must have blown out some windows in the house.

  Meanwhile I was having problems of my own. Killer kept lunging off to one side of the yard, away from the ex-tree. Since he was a former police dog, I knew he’d been trained to sniff out explosives and stuff. He’d proved that by locating a bomb that Ellery had planted. So why was he acting like he wanted to get away from the scene of the crime?

  “Knock it off!” I yelled, yanking on his leash.

  I wanted to check out the explosion site before any clues or evidence got trampled by the students milling around. But the dog refused to give up. I gritted my teeth, wishing I’d ignored Frank and taken the beast home before the meeting with Darity.

  Killer barked loudly and lunged away again. This time he pulled me off balance a little. That was all the opening he needed. He took off toward the evergreen hedge between the GTT house and the next place over. I scuttled a few steps after him, desperate to keep my hold on his leash. The last thing I wanted was to have him get loose and end up chasing him all over campus. Been there, done that.

  “Quit it, you mangy … huh?”

  I blinked as Killer skidded to a stop and barked again. His long, narrow nose was pointing to something sticking out from under the hedge. It was a plastic bag with some stuff spilling out of it. Some suspicious-looking stuff.

  I moved aside slightly to block it from view. Then I looked around for Frank. He was nearby questioning a couple of the brothers. They seemed shaken as they insisted they had no idea what had happened.

  Ducking down, I glanced into the bag. Just as I’d thought. ATAC had given us some basic explosives training. More than enough to recognize the remains of a simple chemical setup for a homemade bomb.

  “Killer, sit,” I told the dog. “Stay.”

  Killer sank to his haunches, his ears pricked in my direction. For once he seemed willing to take orders from me. I just hoped it wasn’t a trick. But I had to take the chance. Dropping his leash, I hoped for the best.

  Whew! He seemed willing to stay put. His furry body was in front of the bag, hiding it from view.

  Frank was still talking with the brothers. Dashing past him, I headed for Spencer. He was standing alone, staring into the crater the bomb had left in the yard.

  “Dude,” I hissed to him. “Can you get everyone back inside for a few?”

  Spencer caught on fast. He knew Frank and I were with ATAC. “You got it,” he murmured.

  Within minutes all the brothers were filing back into the house, along with a few random people who had heard the explosion and come to see what was happening. It was pretty impressive. Frank looked a little confused as Spencer herded them all inside like a border collie rounding up the flock.

  Meanwhile I was making a beeline for Killer. “Check this out,” I called over my shoulder.

  Frank’s eyes widened when he saw what was behind the dog. He bent to examine the contents of the bag. “Whoa,” he said.

  “Let’s pack it up and get out of here.” I glanced at the frat house. “With any luck, maybe the culprit left some fingerprints somewhere.”

  “Okay.” Frank pulled some thin latex gloves out of his pocket, along with a plastic bag. “But I’m not holding my breath.”

  “Me either. But hurry, let’s move before anyone starts asking questions.”

  Soon we were back in my cottage. Killer was lounging in his kennel while Frank and I took a closer look at the contents of the bag. “No doubt this stuff was used to make that bomb,” said Frank, sitting back on the sofa and peeling off his gloves. “But it could’ve come from any decently stocked science classroom.”

  I nodded. As expected, there were no fingerprints to be found. Or anything else to tell us who the bomb maker might be. Even the plastic bag was generic, a recycled number from the school store.

  “So now what?” I said.

  Frank looked thoughtful. “Let’s think for a minute. Who was at the frat house when it went off?”

  I shrugged. “Usual suspects,” I said. “Spencer, the other frat guys, the new pledges—well, not all of them.” I stopped to think for a minute. “I don’t remember seeing Lee around. Or Patton, either.”

  “Patton wouldn’t be,” Frank pointed out. “He got cut again, remember? Or at least everyone assumes he’s going to be.”

  “Oh, right. Makes sense he wouldn’t be hanging around then. Poor Peachy—rejected two years in a row.” I glanced at Frank. “Think he’s taking out his disappointment on GTT?”

  “I guess it’s possible.” Frank stared at the bomb-making stuff spread before us. “We already suspected he might have been the one who tampered with Lee’s grades, trying to make him look bad. He could have done some of the other stuff too, I suppose.”

  “Or he could have done this but not the other s
tuff.” I kicked back and put my feet up on the coffee table. “After all, we’ve already nabbed two bad guys on this mission so far. Why shouldn’t there be three or four more to go?”

  Frank groaned. “Don’t even say that! Anyway, I think it’s worth adding Patton back onto the list.”

  “No argument there, bro.”

  Frank checked his watch. “Let’s not just sit around here,” he said. “When Aunt Trudy called today, she was sounding kind of …”

  “Aunt Trudyish?” I supplied.

  Frank grimaced. “Yeah. Anyway, the faster we wrap things up here, the better. She and Mom are going to start getting suspicious if we miss another week of school back home.”

  He had a point. “So what do you have in mind?” I asked. “Want to check out the science lab, see if anyone noticed anybody sneaking around there this weekend?”

  “Why don’t you do that?” Frank said. “I was thinking of digging into the school’s computer records, see if we can find out which students or faculty might have access to that drug that was in the Winner’s Cup.”

  Computer research sounded pretty boring to me. In other words, right up Frank’s alley.

  “Okay, let’s split up.” I jumped to my feet. “Science lab, here I come.”

  “What about Killer?” Frank reminded me as I was heading for the door. “You might want to take him along. You know, as cover.”

  I groaned. If Frank had his way, that dog would be glued to my side 24/7.

  But he had a point. It was easier to blend in when Killer was with me—nobody asked questions if I went just about anywhere as long as he was there too. The dog was seriously popular around campus.

  Besides, I couldn’t help remembering how Killer had zeroed right in on those bomb-making supplies. Maybe he’d come in handy again. Hey, you never know.

  The science center was a lot more modern than most of the buildings at Firth. In other words, it had actually been constructed during this century. It was mostly concrete and green-tinted glass. Tasteful pewter letters spelled out the name marks science center over the doorway.

  Yeah, Marks. As in Ellery. The kid’s family was loaded, and they weren’t shy about showing it off. Their name was all over Firth on various buildings, plaques, and trophies.

  And they weren’t the only ones. The building right next door housed the school’s indoor pool. It was labeled the Lewis McPherson Sr. Swimming Complex. Lewis McPherson Jr. was the kid who’d been killed when one of Ellery’s pranks went awry. Now here his name was, right next door to his killer’s.

  “Ironic, huh?” I murmured to Killer.

  The dog shot me a bored glance. I shrugged and headed into the science building. He padded along beside me.

  The place was empty and echoing. No surprise, since it was Sunday. Luckily, nothing was locked. I started poking around to see which classrooms held the supplies in question.

  When I opened the third or fourth door, I was surprised to find someone inside. I was even more surprised to realize it was Dr. Montgomery.

  “Hello, my boy,” the former headmaster said in his quavery old-man voice, looking up from some test tubes. “Can I help you?”

  “Um …” Like Spencer, Dr. Montgomery knew that Frank and I were with ATAC. However, I wasn’t sure I wanted to remind him of that fact. Maybe he was senile enough to have forgotten. “Just taking Killer for a walk. But what are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you know, son?” Dr. Montgomery smiled. “I still teach a senior science seminar for the more … worthy seniors here at Firth.”

  “Oh.” As a matter of fact, I hadn’t known that. But I didn’t much care, either. It wasn’t exactly the info I’d been looking for.

  “As long as you’re here, my boy, could you help me with something?” The old man pointed to one of the windows along one wall of the lab. “I wanted to open that window to allow this place to air out a bit, but it’s a little sticky, and I’m afraid my old back isn’t up to the task.”

  “Sure.” I stepped over and yanked the window open. “By the way, Doc, have you noticed anything missing from your lab the past day or two?”

  “Missing? What do you mean?”

  What the heck? He already knew, right? I made an executive decision, figuring Frank would understand. Maybe.

  “There was an explosion outside the GTT house,” I said. “Nobody was hurt, but we’re trying to track down how it happened.”

  I figured that was a good compromise. I hadn’t actually reminded Montgomery about the ATAC stuff. If he remembered on his own, well, no biggie, since we already knew that he knew.

  Dr. Montgomery looked startled as I went on to list the chemicals and stuff we’d found. “As a matter of fact, I did notice just today that I seem to be missing a few things,” he said, glancing at a wall of open shelving that held a bunch of vials and beakers full of various liquids and powders. “I thought I’d just misplaced or mislabeled them, but perhaps …”

  “Have you seen anyone sneaking around this place in the past couple of days?” I asked. “Especially anyone connected with GTT?”

  “Oh, I’m sure those boys would never pull such a serious and dangerous prank.” Montgomery shook his head firmly, then hesitated. “Well, most of them, in any case …”

  He looked troubled. I was about to ask him what he meant by “most of them.”

  But before I could, I heard a piercing, terrified scream from somewhere outside that open window.

  Sneaky Dealings

  I don’t know, Frank.” Dr. Darity looked concerned. He glanced at the computer on his desk. “The Firth community’s medical information is always kept strictly confidential. Perhaps I can have the medical staff check into the stored drug supplies and get back to me. I can pretend it’s just a routine inventory or something.”

  “I’d really rather not wait that long, sir,” I said, doing my best to hide my impatience. “We need to know who poisoned that Winner’s Cup—the sooner the better. Otherwise the culprit might strike again.”

  Darity still seemed hesitant. I got that. He seemed like an upright guy for the most part, and he obviously took his job seriously. But this could be a matter of life and death.

  “You don’t have to worry,” I assured him. “ATAC will keep any information we find strictly confidential.”

  Darity checked his watch, looking harried. He’d already mentioned he was about to leave for a late luncheon with some trustees. “I need to head out before I’m late, and my secretary doesn’t come in on Sundays,” he said. “Maybe we should meet first thing tomorrow and take care of this, hmm?”

  “I’d really rather handle it today, if you don’t mind,” I said firmly as he stood up. “But if you need to leave, that’s fine. I’m pretty handy with a computer. All I need is for you to type in the necessary passwords or whatever and I can take it from there.”

  For a moment Darity looked ready to argue. But then he checked his watch again and sighed.

  “Fine,” he said. “As long as I have your personal assurance that the information goes no further than ATAC personnel. If the outside world got hold of some of it …”

  “Absolutely. You can count on us, sir.”

  He stared at me for a long moment. I just sat there, doing my best to look trustworthy and responsible.

  Anyway, he finally bent over the keyboard for a moment, then straightened up. “There you go,” he said. “You should be able to access whatever you need. Please log off when you’re finished, all right?”

  “Of course. Thank you, sir. And enjoy your luncheon.”

  Darity just grimaced. I wasn’t sure if he was dreading the luncheon for some reason, or already regretting giving me access to the school records. Either way, he just gave me a little wave, grabbed his coat from behind the door, and left.

  Within seconds I was searching the medical records. It turned out there were several people at Firth with a history of epilepsy or related conditions. One of the arts teachers, a couple of students whose names
I didn’t recognize … and one whose name I definitely did.

  “Zeke?” I murmured, blinking at the name on the screen in surprise. “Whoa.”

  Zeke was my roommate. Not that he was too happy about that. In fact, he’d made it pretty clear all along that he resented losing his private room when I showed up. He definitely wasn’t the type to hold back on his opinions. Or his burps or various other bodily emissions either, as I’d learned being his roommate.

  “Guess old Zeke’s just full of surprises,” I mumbled to myself, remembering that he’d recently won an award for poetry. Trust me, if you met Zeke, poetry would be the last thing you’d expect to come out of him.

  After making a quick mental note of all the relevant names, I clicked away from the medical info page. Then I glanced at the door, realizing I had a unique opportunity for a little extracurricular snooping.

  See, Joe and I liked Darity. Like I said, he came across as a stand-up guy. But more than once, we’d had to wonder if the headmaster was being totally straight with us. We’d caught him in a few minor lies over the course of the investigation, mostly of omission. Nothing major, but still …

  Clicking over to Darity’s desktop, I scanned the file folders there. Most of them were pretty boring stuff—financial records, admissions reports, that kind of thing.

  There were also a bunch of folders detailing various plans for modernizing the school. Darity had been headmaster for only a few years, but he’d already made lots of changes at Firth and was planning more. Some were welcome, like computerizing the records. Others were more controversial, like the persistent rumor that he wanted to do away with the fraternity system. Could those plans make someone angry enough to lash out?

  A quick look through the folders didn’t turn up anything suspicious. At least not until I came across a subfolder labeled “Love Letters.” I almost clicked right past that one, figuring that sort of thing was none of my business.

  Then I hesitated, my mind flashing to Darity’s daughter Destiny. What if this had something to do with her relationship with Lee? Everyone thought Lee was one of Darity’s personal favorites, the shining success of his new scholarship program. But what if the headmaster didn’t like the idea of a poor kid dating his own daughter? He didn’t seem like the type, but you never knew at a place like this….