062 Easy Marks (7 page)

Nancy held her breath as the door swung in toward her. She stayed low so Phyllis wouldn’t see her silhouette through the frosted glass in the top half of the door. Please leave the door open, Nancy begged silently, and stay on the other side of the room!

She heard a drawer being opened and some papers being rustled over by the desk. Would Phyllis notice the unlocked file drawer or the missing binder?

Every muscle in Nancy’s body tensed as Phyllis’s shoes clacked back toward Nancy. The assistant head paused at the door a moment, then the door was closed and she was gone.

Nancy’s knees went weak, and she let out a long breath. Phew! I’d better work fast and get out of here in case she comes back again! she thought. Reopening the binder, Nancy flipped excitedly to the last page of entries.

There at the end was her own password, NS444. Just above it was the listing for IW443. The name listed was— Nancy squinted, trying to make out the letters. The initials
I
and
W
were clear, but the rest of the name was scrawled illegibly.

Hmm. She compared the handwriting of the IW443 entry to the others. It seemed to be not as distinct but similar otherwise. Had Phyllis tried to disguise her writing so that no one could link her to the fake entry? Or was someone else trying, not quite successfully, to imitate her handwriting so that Phyllis
would
be implicated in the scam?

Nancy shook her head. She needed concrete evidence. Flipping back to the first page, Nancy ran her finger down the listings until she found Phyllis’s and Victor’s passwords and copied them down. As an afterthought, she wrote down Randi’s password, too. Then she replaced the binder in the drawer and began looking through the other files.

It seemed to be dull stuff for the most part—budget information, personnel files, minutes from staff meetings, curriculum files. There was a fat computer file and a manual for the school’s system, but Nancy didn’t see how reading that would help solve her case.

She glanced at her watch. She’d been there for almost ten minutes now! Phyllis had to be returning any second. Shutting the drawer, Nancy moved quickly over to the filing cabinets, opening them one by one. There was no time to examine them thoroughly, but she didn’t see anything unusual or incriminating at first glance.

With a sigh, Nancy closed the last drawer of the file cabinets and scrutinized the office to make sure everything was the same as when she’d entered. Then, after cracking open the door to check the common waiting room to make sure it was empty, Nancy slipped back through the empty anteroom and into the hall.

Well, she hadn’t hit the jackpot, as she’d hoped, but at least she had those passwords now. Maybe they would lead to some valuable discoveries.

Nancy sat at her bedroom desk and pounded on the papers in front of her. “I need a break here!” she muttered into the air.

It was Sunday evening. She’d spent all of Saturday afternoon at Sally Lane’s, using her computer. After Sally had shown her how to access the Brewster computer with her PC, Nancy had gone to work. Using the passwords she’d copied from Phyllis’s log, she accessed first Phyllis’s, then Victor’s, then Randi’s files.

She’d called up each and every file, checking for anything that would point to any of them as her suspect. By the time she was done, she’d read enough administrative memos, computer programs, and newspaper stories to last a lifetime! But she hadn’t found a single thing to incriminate any of the three.

That day she’d given herself a break and had gone shopping at the River Heights Mall with her best friends, George Fayne and Bess Marvin. But her mind was not on shopping. She kept trying to make sense of the evidence she had so far: the threatening message that had been sent from the newspaper room; Randi’s knowledge of her real name; Phyllis’s hush-hush phone call with Dana; Victor’s abilities to doctor off-limits files; the use of her real name on the threatening message. . . .

Depending on how she read the clues, any one of her suspects could be guilty. Nancy had laid out all her notes and papers on her desk, waiting for something to strike her, some pattern she’d overlooked.

A sheet of paper drifted to the floor and caught her eye. Bending to retrieve it, Nancy saw that it was the funny version of Walter Friedbinder’s biography that Victor had concocted. She picked up the original biography and compared the two. It was amazing how easily he had turned a serious press release into a joke.

As her eyes flicked from one version to the other, it occurred to her that Friedbinder’s real biography was pretty amazing in itself. He had received both a master’s degree and a doctorate in his first five years after college and taught at the same time.

“Wow!” Nancy said softly. “That’s pretty impressive.”

After getting his doctorate, Friedbinder had become dean of students at a small private school. While there he had increased both the percentage of graduates going on to four-year colleges and the number of acceptances at highly prestigious colleges.

No wonder Lane and the other trustees decided to offer Friedbinder the job of headmaster at Brewster. Many people thought the best indication of a school’s success was the list of colleges its graduates attended. A private school that wasn’t seen as successful would stop attracting students and eventually go broke. So Friedbinder’s obvious skill in that area must have been an important plus, at least in the eyes of the board.

Nancy noticed the title of Friedbinder’s Ph.D. dissertation: “The Development of Creative Problem-Solving Skills.” The press release said he’d gotten it published. The dissertation sounded as if it might help Nancy in her work, so she decided to ask him about borrowing a copy.

Nancy saw Friedbinder at eight-thirty on Monday morning in the school hallway. His manner was brusque and businesslike. “I need to speak to you privately, Ms. Stevens. Right away,” he said.

As she followed him into his office, Nancy wondered why she had become Ms. Stevens, instead of Nancy. She soon found out.

“When I came in this morning,” said the headmaster, rustling through the papers on his desk, “I found this note in my mailbox.” He held it up.

“What does it say?” asked Nancy.

“I’ll read it to you, word for word,” Friedbinder replied. He took a pair of glasses from his coat pocket, adjusted them on his nose, and read:

“Good grades are big business at Brewster. And the people raking in the dough let a computer do their dirty work. Want your grade changed? Talk to Victor Paredes and Nancy Stevens.”

Chapter Nine

T
HE FIRST THING
Nancy noted was the use of her alias: Nancy Stevens. Whoever wrote the note probably wasn’t the same person who had sent her the threatening message on Friday.

The next thing that struck her was that the note concerned grade changing. Its author knew about the scam.

“That’s very interesting,” Nancy said, taking a seat. “Do you mind if I have a look at it?”

Walter Friedbinder passed it to her. The accusing message was printed in blue felt-tip ink on ordinary lined loose-leaf paper. The large block letters indicated to Nancy that the writer had apparently tried to disguise his or her handwriting. Nancy noticed one peculiarity, though. The small letter
k
had a closed loop for the upper arm, so that it looked like a small capital
R
with a line sticking up from it. Nancy was sure she would recognize it if she came across it again.

“Well?” Friedbinder said. “I thought you were going to solve this case! Now you’re being accused of the crime. What’s going on?”

Nancy looked up. “Hmm? Oh—I have a pretty good idea who wrote this and why. The interesting part is that Victor and I are accused of grade changing, and not of, say, writing graffiti in the halls or selling test answers.”

“What do you mean?” asked the headmaster.

“This person knows about the grade-changing scam,” she explained. “Maybe he or she has been approached by the culprit.”

“What about Victor Paredes?”

“I’m watching him,” said Nancy. “But I don’t have enough evidence to accuse him. I don’t think the person who wrote this does, either. This is the work of a jealous girlfriend.”

Friedbinder seemed to accept this, and his manner relaxed somewhat.

The nine o’clock bell sounded in the corridor outside. Nancy stood up. “I have a student in a few minutes,” she said. “Will you excuse me?”

“Of course,” Friedbinder replied. “And please forgive me. This whole business has made me tense.”

She was in the doorway when she remembered to ask him for a copy of his published dissertation.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I have only one copy of it, and it must be in one of the cartons of books I haven’t unpacked yet. In any case, it’s pretty dry stuff.”

As she walked upstairs to the learning lab, Nancy had a lot to think about. Why had he been so worried about the letter? The idea of her being involved was ridiculous—he had to know that. He was probably so worried about the effects of a scandal that he wasn’t thinking clearly.

As for the note’s author, Nancy knew of only one person who would want to make trouble for her and Victor, and that was Kim. But why had Kim—assuming she was the one—accused them of grade changing? She must know that someone at Brewster really was changing people’s grades for money.

Kim didn’t seem to have the computer know-how to be in on the scheme, but had she received an E-mail message from the grade-changer? Or heard rumors from students who had? And what about the fact that the note accused Victor? Was that pure spite or a shrewd guess? Victor was, after all, one of Nancy’s suspects. Did Kim know that he was involved? And if so, how?

Nancy shook her head. Too many questions and no answers. She unlocked the learning lab and checked her watch. There were still a few minutes before her student was to arrive. After dumping her things on a chair, she went to her desk to make a phone call. “Mr. Lane?” she said, when she was put through.

“Nancy! I was just going to call you,” the banker said. “A deposit of five hundred dollars was made to the account after four on Friday afternoon. My immediate staff had gone home, so I wasn’t told about it until this morning.”

Nancy whistled. “So if I. Wynn hasn’t already withdrawn his money, he should start withdrawing the cash today. Can you arrange for me to be notified here at school as soon as there’s any activity in the account?”

“I imagine I can,” Lane replied. “You’ll have to move quickly, though. I’ll buy you as much time as possible by placing a special hold and recheck command on the account number, as well as the slowdown we’ve already put in place.”

“Thanks,” said Nancy. “If I’m lucky he or she will go to the Ivy Avenue branch, which is the one closest to the school.”

There was a tap on the door. Nancy finished her call and went to answer it. Victor was standing there, looking glum.

“Hi, partner,” he said. “How do you like a life of crime?”

“What are you talking about?” Nancy asked. “And what are you doing here?”

“I switched appointments with Margie Adams,” he said. “And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you will as soon as Dr. F. gets hold of you. I just came from a grilling in his office.”

“I thought I explained everything to him. That letter really shook him up. I can’t believe he called you to his office! You’d better come in,” she said to Victor, pulling him into the learning lab.

Victor sprawled in the chair next to the computer terminal as Nancy sat at the desk. He gave her a shrewd look. “So you do know about it,” he said. “I thought so.”

“You’re talking about the anonymous letter, right?” Nancy asked.

“Anonymous!” he said with a loud snort. “Kim did everything but staple her photo to the top and put her thumbprint in the lower corner!”

“I figured it had to be her,” Nancy said, nodding.

“Listen, I’ve known Kim since eighth grade, and I’ve never met anyone else who makes those funny
k
’s. Isn’t that proof?”

“That depends,” Nancy replied. “Not if lots of people know she writes that way.”

Victor stared at her, then laughed. “Hey,” he said, “you’d make a great detective!”

Nancy studied his face. Had that been an innocent remark? Or had Victor somehow penetrated her cover? Did he know her name was really Nancy Drew?

She decided not to respond directly to his comment. “Why should Kim—or anyone else, for that matter—accuse us of changing people’s grades for money?” she asked.

“Well,” he answered in an embarrassed voice, “I guess it’s my fault. One time, when Kim and I were going out together, we were talking about how broke we both were. I said I knew how to make a lot of money by offering to change people’s school transcripts.”

“Victor, you didn’t!” Nancy exclaimed.

His cheeks turned pink. “I was just goofing around,” he protested. “I could have said, ‘Let’s hold up a bank or something,’ instead. I didn’t mean it, but I guess Kim didn’t know that.”

“No, I guess not.” Nancy fell silent. Could she believe Victor? He
was
acting uncomfortable. Was it simply because he knew his comment might be misunderstood? Or was this a sort of double-whammy, in which he gave away something embarrassing but harmless in order to convince her that he was being completely open?

“I just told this to Mr. Friedbinder,” Victor added. “But I couldn’t tell if he believed me. I hope he did. I hear colleges pay a lot of attention to your headmaster’s letter of recommendation, and if he shoots me down, I’m dead.”

Nancy realized the conversation was starting to get a little too personal. She was supposed to be tutoring Victor, after all. “Why don’t we see about bringing up your marks in English,” she said brusquely, reaching for her stack of books, “and let Mr. Friedbinder worry about what he says in his letter? Okay, Stu?”

Victor grinned. “Sure thing, Teach!”

After twenty minutes of solid work, Nancy said, “Nice going. Keep this up and I don’t think you’ll have any more problems.”

Victor stretched his arms and yawned. “Thanks,” he replied. “But I can’t help thinking that a lot of what you’re doing could be done by a computer. Not the really creative part, of course, but all those drills.”