The Whisperer (Nightmare Hall)

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The Whisperer (Nightmare Hall) Page 11

by Diane Hoh


  Of course I remember, Shea thought dismally. It scared me to death.

  “I had to do well,” Dinah continued. “Copying the exam was the only thing I could think of. I didn’t want to, but I was so scared I’d fail.”

  “Me, too,” Shea said. Dinah looked so pathetic, guilt and shame written all over her face. Then a picture of Dr. Stark, lying on the floor of her office, blood on the back of her head, flashed into Shea’s mind. How far had Dinah been willing to go to get her hands on that videotape after she learned that it existed?

  And would she be willing to do the same thing now, if Shea refused to hand over the tape?”

  There was only one door in the tiny cubicle. And Dinah was standing beside it.

  She took two steps backward.

  “Oh, Shea,” Dinah said softly, a bleak expression on her face, “I didn’t hit Dr. Stark on the head. I’m a cheat, but I’m not violent. How could you … ?”

  “I’m sorry,” Shea apologized. “But if not you, then who … ?”

  “I think,” Dinah said with great effort, “I think it was Sid. Maybe to protect me. I told him I was on that videotape. He knew how upset I was.” Her voice softened. “He really does love me, Shea. In his own way.”

  Shea snorted in disgust.

  “He probably went to her to plead my case, she got nasty with him the way she did with me, and he just lost it. All he told me was that he broke into her office when she wasn’t there, to steal the videotape, and it was already gone. I almost went crazy. Then when she got hurt and the tape didn’t show up, I thought Sid had attacked her, but I couldn’t imagine where the tape was. Until … until I saw you at Nightmare Hall in the housemother’s room, hanging around the VCR. That made me suspicious. Then when you asked me later who had a VCR, I was positive you had it. I didn’t know why, though. I couldn’t imagine you cheating, Shea. Then I thought maybe it was Coop who had cheated, because he wanted that summer job so much. I figured he was on the tape, too, and you were trying to protect him the way Sid had tried to protect me. So you stole the tape.”

  Shea didn’t know what to think. If Sid was the one who had hit Dr. Stark on the head and left her on the floor of the office, was he the whisperer? Where had Sid been when she got those phone calls?

  He’d been at Vinnie’s, playing pool, that first night. He could have called her from the front telephone. She had no way of knowing where he’d been when she’d received the other calls. With Dinah, probably, but he could have slipped away for a few minutes in the lounge or the Student Center or a movie theater and made a quick phone call.

  “Sid isn’t good for you, Dinah,” she said quietly. “He really isn’t.”

  “I know. That’s why I took the summer lifeguard job. I really didn’t think Sid would get that lab job. I was sure Coop would get it. Dr. Stark couldn’t stand Sid. So I figured Sid would have to go back home, and I wouldn’t. I’d be free of him all summer long.”

  Shea moved forward to stand close to Dinah. “What if the two of us take this tape and go straight to the dean right now? I know it’s late, but I have a feeling she’d see us if she knew how important it was.”

  Doubt filled Dinah’s tear-streaked face. “To the dean? Oh, god, Shea, that means automatic expulsion! My parents would kill me!”

  “Maybe not. We’re confessing, right? That should count for something. And there just might be something on this tape the police can use to catch whoever attacked Dr. Stark.”

  Dinah looked confused.

  “Come on, Dinah,” Shea urged gently, “we have to do this. We’ll both feel better. What do you say?”

  “She says no way,” a harsh guttural voice shouted. An arm in a maroon jacket reached in from beyond the door and shoved Dinah so hard, she fell against the doorframe, cracking her head sharply. Her knees gave way, and with a startled, “Oh!,” she slid to the floor. Her eyes closed as she landed, her back against the wall, her head sinking into her chest.

  Shea stared at her, so shocked that when the same arm reached in and yanked the videotape cassette out of her hands, she offered no resistance.

  Uttering a cry of triumph, the figure in the maroon jacket, a gold baseball cap on his head, took off down the hall, waving the cassette in the air.

  All Shea saw was a maroon and gold blur.

  “Dinah?” she whispered.

  Dinah remained motionless on the tile floor.

  Shea glanced around desperately for a telephone. None. Were they all upstairs?

  If she took the time to hunt for a phone, Dinah’s attacker would get away.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  Taking one last, regretful glance at the unconscious Dinah, Shea ran from the room.

  Chapter 19

  THE LONG, DIMLY LIT hall was empty. Rushing from door to door, Shea hastily checked each cubicle. They were all empty, with no place for anyone to hide.

  There was, she knew, a back staircase at the far end of the hall. Probably used for deliveries. Had he gone back upstairs?

  She ran down the hall, and hesitated when she reached the foot of the staircase. Completely enclosed, narrow, it was very dark. No lighting. He could be hiding up there in the shadows, knowing she would follow him. Was she doing yet another stupid thing? Wouldn’t it be smarter to go upstairs by the front staircase and tell the librarian to call the police?

  But there was no time. If he got away …

  Taking a deep breath, Shea ran up the stairs to the upper floor. Which was completely dark. Either the librarian had forgotten Shea and Dinah, and closed up or …

  Or the whisperer had taken care of her.

  Shea stopped, afraid to move away from the door. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe properly. She couldn’t think.

  Phone … where would the phone be? On the main desk, the big, wooden semicircular desk like a giant letter “C,” in the middle of the room as you entered the library. If she could find it … over there … to her right, wasn’t it?

  Trying to picture what else was in the area, Shea began cautiously moving forward, one hesitant step at a time, feeling with her feet for any obstacle in her path.

  “I didn’t think you’d find the tape.”

  Shea froze.

  The whisper came from somewhere above and to the right of her.

  The balcony. Stacks and stacks of books up there. Another curving iron staircase led the way. An iron railing ran the entire length of the area. Old, leather or overstuffed chairs and reading tables were placed along the railing. Shea had always found it a cozy place to sit and study or read.

  But not now. Now, it hid the whisperer.

  “I didn’t think you were smart enough to figure out the obvious,” the voice above her hissed. “The tape in the VCR. If you’re so smart, how come you were cheating? I saw you on that tape. It’s more disgusting when smart people cheat. They’re just lazy, that’s all.”

  Coward! Why didn’t he come downstairs and face her instead of hiding in the dark and whispering? Sneaky, slithery little snake! Shea whirled around to face the balcony, lifting her head to shout, “You hurt Dinah!”

  “She had it coming. She cheated, too. Although there’s a little more excuse in her case. She isn’t as bright as you are.”

  Shea had never been so angry. Frightened, too, alone in this dark, empty library with a sneaky, slimy, sick creep. But she was angrier than she was frightened. He had no right to play these stupid games! He had no right to hurt Dinah, to frighten Bethany and Annette, to attack a teacher, to chop off Tandy’s hair. No right at all.

  “Don’t even think about the telephone. You’d never get there before I got to you. And you’d be sorry you tried.”

  He was always telling her she’d be sorry. She was sick of it.

  She couldn’t see him. But … that meant he couldn’t see her, either. She bent at the waist to pull off her boots. Maybe she’d never make it out of this library alive. But before she gave up, she was going to find out who had been tormenting her
for so long.

  No matter what he said to her, she wouldn’t be able to answer him as she made her way up the stairs. Speaking would give away her location. He mustn’t know she was on her way up there. The only tool she had to use against him was the element of surprise. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  There was a light switch at the top of the stairs, on her right, she remembered. If she could make her way to the top without giving herself away, she could hit that switch and flood the balcony with light.

  She had no idea what she would do after that. But at least she’d know who she was dealing with.

  “You’re all alike, you cheats.”

  Shea bent to pick up one boot, gripping it tightly in her left hand by the top, so that the two-inch, stacked wooden heel swung free. Then she tiptoed to the stairs and put her foot on the bottom step.

  “You want things the easy way. Don’t want to have to work for them. Too much trouble. All you care about is having a good time, partying while the rest of us work to get what we want. You make me sick.”

  The second step, the third, the fourth … her breathing was too loud. He’d hear her. Did that last step just creak?

  No. He was still whispering away.

  “You think it’s easy, always working so hard? You think the rest of us wouldn’t like to take the easy way, too? But we’re not like you. We know that cheaters are only cheating themselves.”

  The fifth step, the sixth … how many were there? She must be careful not to bump the railing, even brush against it … her sweater might make a rustling sound … alert him.

  “Why don’t you answer me? Cat got your tongue? Or are you too ashamed to defend yourself? You know I’m right, don’t you, Fallon?”

  The seventh, eighth … why was her breathing so loud?

  She froze again halfway up the steps as he stirred, moved above her. “Are you still down there?” Suspicion in his voice. “You couldn’t have left. I would have seen the door opening. And you couldn’t have called for help. I’d have heard you on the phone.” Silence. Then, with a note of uncertainty, “Fallon? You there?”

  She had to hurry. If he moved away from the railing, decided to come downstairs and get her … he’d meet her on the stairs!

  The ninth step, tenth, eleventh, hurry, hurry, but quietly, be quiet! Stop breathing, you idiot, just for these last few seconds, these last few steps. Then you’ll hit the light switch, and you’ll see who has been trying so hard to drive you over the edge.

  The whisper, when it came, was louder, more insistent. She could practically feel all of his senses on alert. “Fallon? Where are you? You’re not down there, are you? Why don’t you answer me?” Then, heavy with suspicion, “What are you up to?”

  The twelfth, thirteenth … she was so surprised to reach the top of the steps, she almost stumbled and fell against the wall. She held her breath as her right hand stretched out and felt along the wall, up, up, for the light switch … where was it?

  “Fallon?” The whisper edged closer … he was moving toward her! “Fallon, what are you trying to pull? I won’t stand for any nonsense, do you understand that? I’m the one with the upper hand here. …”

  Her desperate fingers felt only the flat, smooth surface of the wall. Still, they kept searching, searching …

  There! The switch, at last! If she didn’t take a deep breath in the next second, she was going to pass out.

  “Who do you think you’re messing around with …”

  Shea flipped the switch.

  The balcony filled with light.

  A shout of rage came from the figure in front of her.

  It took Shea several stunned seconds to grasp who it was. The person was wearing a maroon football jacket … jeans … boots … baseball cap … no hair visible … but … if there had been hair spilling over the shoulders of the maroon jacket instead of tucked up under the baseball cap, it would have been, Shea knew now, almost the same color as hers. Something Dinah had pointed out that night at Vinnie’s.

  The same color, yes, but worn very differently. Not short and wavy and worn loose like her own, but pulled back from a thin, stern face into a severe, eyebrow-tugging knot at the nape of the neck.

  And Shea realized something else. The person stood on two perfectly good legs.

  It was Dr. Mathilde Stark.

  Chapter 20

  “YOUR LEGS …” SHEA STAMMERED, staring with disbelieving eyes at Dr. Stark.

  The professor looked down with amusement. “Yes, they’re my legs.”

  “But … but you’re paralyzed!”

  “Apparently not.” The doctor pushed a leg forward, lifted it, wiggled her foot in its flat-heeled shoe.…

  A shoe, Shea realized, very much like the shoes she had seen disappearing through a side door in the lounge the night the whisperer had hidden in the television cabinet.

  “No. Impossible.

  “Be there or be sorry,” the professor whispered, leaning casually against the black metal railing. The videotape was still in her hand. She smiled lazily, her cold blue eyes on Shea’s face.

  “You?” Shea gasped. Her hand was still on the light switch. “You?” Her other hand held the boot. And, she remembered then, her shoulder bag held a tape recorder. With a tape in it. As nonchalantly as possible, she slipped her hand into her purse and pressed RECORD.

  “So … who attacked you? I thought the whisperer had done it. But if you’re the whisperer, then who … ?”

  The professor laughed wildly, a cold, chilling sound that echoed throughout the balcony. “Oh, you stupid girl, there was no attack! No one hit me on the head. I lost a contact lens, and when I was crawling around beside my desk looking for it, I got tangled in the lamp cord and accidentally pulled the lamp and that stupid paperweight down on top of me. The lamp hit me on the back of my head, knocking me flat on the floor, and the paperweight was right behind it. Slammed me on the temple. I saw stars, and when I came to, you were in the room. I wanted to see what you’d do, so I played possum.”

  Shea’s mouth fell open. “You … you were never attacked?”

  “Well, of course I was …” another cackling laugh … “by my enemies, the lamp and the paperweight. The wretches hit me when I was down, you might say.” Dr. Stark tilted her head. “Did I ever thank you for calling the emergency crew? No? Well, thank you, Fallon. I deeply and truly appreciate it.”

  Shea struggled to comprehend what she’d just been told. No attack? No one had hit Dr. Stark with the lamp or the paperweight? It had been an accident?

  “You … you were conscious when I was in your office? And you deliberately let people think you were attacked? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It certainly does.” Dr. Stark began tossing the black plastic cassette from one hand to the other, as if she were playing catch with a ball. “I knew exactly what I was going to do the minute I woke up on that floor and realized what had happened. It was the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson. I’d already looked at the tape. I knew you had been cheating.” Her eyes narrowed. “Cheating me! You were not going to get away with it. I realized that if everyone thought I was paralyzed, I could do anything I wanted to, and no one would ever guess that it was me. So … I faked paralysis.”

  The look in Dr. Stark’s eyes was chilling. Shea shrank backward, pressing into the wall. It was past midnight on a Monday night. Wouldn’t Tandy begin wondering where she was? Maybe Dinah had awakened downstairs, found a phone down there somewhere, called the police?

  Someone had better have done something. Because Dr. Stark wasn’t going to tell Shea this whole story and then let her go. And there was that look in her eyes … if help didn’t come … her only consolation was that the tape recorder, she hoped with all her heart, was recording this entire conversation. If anything happened to her, someone would at least find that tape recorder in her bag.

  “You couldn’t have fooled all those doctors into believing you were paralyzed.”

  “Oh, they cou
ldn’t find any reason for the paralysis. But I’d been traumatized by the attack. So they decided it was psychosomatic. But real, nevertheless. Actually, that worked out well. Had they thought it was my body turning on me, they’d have kept me in the hospital. Since they decided it was only my mind, they let me transfer back to campus, to the infirmary, which gave me the freedom I needed.”

  “The freedom to make my life miserable?” Shea asked bitterly.

  “You’ve got it. The infirmary is so poorly staffed. And since I was no longer in any danger, they paid very little attention to me. When I wanted to leave, all I had to do was have someone wheel me into the whirlpool and leave me there. I locked the door, insisting on my privacy. The first time I left by the back door, I had to borrow a nurse’s uniform I found hanging in the closet. I picked up these clothes at the lab and from then on, when I went out, I was dressed as you see me now.” She laughed. “So unlike me! Twice, I ran into people I knew, colleagues of mine. They never even blinked. Had no idea who I was.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to do,” Shea said with contempt. “Fooling everyone into thinking you’d been badly hurt, that you were crippled!”

  The expression on Dr. Stark’s face changed. She jerked upright, standing very straight and rigid, her thin, angled face cold and filled with hate. “And how dare you judge me? You stole an exam! Did you think I was going to let you get away with that?”

  Trembling, Shea watched as Dr. Stark, her face red with fury, took a step forward.

  There might not be much time left.

  “What happened to the paperweight?” she asked.

  “I shoved it under the bookshelves. It’s still there. I didn’t turn it over to the police because I wanted to handle things in my own way. I always say, if you want anything done right, do it yourself. Actually,” she added, her voice cold, “that paperweight is going to prove very useful to me.”

  Shea didn’t want to know how.

 

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