The Wrong Chemistry

by Carolyn Keene

  “I hope so,” Nancy said fervently. “I’d hate to think that I sat in the closet while the thief got away.”

  “It couldn’t be helped, Nancy,” the dean assured her.

  Nancy shrugged. “Did anyone figure out how the thief got in?”

  Dean Jarvis shook his head. “No. But don’t worry about it. It’s not your problem anymore. I’m taking you off the case.”

  “What?” Nancy gasped.

  “It’s too dangerous,” the dean said firmly. “This person means business. I can’t take the chance that you’ll get hurt.”

  “But, Dean Jarvis, I’m really close now,” Nancy objected. “I didn’t really get hurt. I’m okay now. Please—I know I can wrap up the case. I just need a little more time.”

  The dean was unmoved. He didn’t say a word, only shook his head again.

  “Please, sir? It would save you a lot of trouble. And besides,” Nancy added recklessly, “how will it look if you call in the government now? They’ll want to know why you didn’t report the thefts immediately. If I solve the case and recover the CLT, they can’t say a thing.”

  “Well, when you put it like that . . .” Dean Jarvis began. He paused. “No, I still can’t.”

  “I can solve this case for you,” Nancy insisted. “I’m very close already.”

  “I don’t know.” The dean wavered.

  Nancy smiled. “Think of Emerson. Your science program.”

  “All right!” The dean threw up his hands. “But only if you promise to come to me at the first sign of trouble.”

  Ned waited silently until Dean Jarvis had gone.

  “Are you really that close, Nan?” he burst out as soon as the dean’s footsteps had faded away.

  “Almost.” Eagerly, Nancy swung her legs off the bed. “And I will solve it soon. Right now, we’d better get over to the lab and find out how the thief got in.”

  “There’s no use in my trying to stop you, is there?” Nancy shook her head. Sighing, Ned went out to wait in the hall while Nancy got dressed.

  By the time Nancy and Ned got back to the lab, the mess from the fire had been cleaned up. She could tell from the fine white dust in the room that the campus police had checked for fingerprints.

  The room still reeked of smoke. On the desk Nancy found the walkie-talkie hidden under some papers. The thief hadn’t bothered to take it.

  “Nothing new here,” Nancy said. “Let’s check with your friend Craig.”

  Nancy explained to Craig that Dean Jarvis had allowed them to follow up on what had happened. “The story’s getting more involved than I thought,” she added when he gave them a confused look.

  Craig shrugged and looked as baffled as Nancy. “I checked with all the guards myself,” he told her. “I even had someone watching the fire escape. The elevators, which weren’t in service, were locked for the night. I have no idea how he got in.”

  “Well, you don’t mind if we check around a bit, do you?” Ned asked.

  “Not at all. Here.” Craig threw his key ring to Ned. “These keys will open everything in the building. Yell if you find anything.”

  Out in the main hall, Nancy and Ned tried to decide where to go next. Ned leaned back against a closet door, thinking.

  “It’s a waste of time to check the rooms on this floor,” he said. “Security’s already checked them all.”

  Nancy’s eyes lit up and a grin spread across her face. “Maybe not all,” she said slowly. “Ned—take a step toward me.”

  “Huh?” Baffled, Ned approached, not sure if Nancy was joking or not.

  “That’s fine.” Grinning, Nancy ducked behind him. “This closet,” she said. “We’ve been looking so hard for big clues, we didn’t try the little ones.”

  The closet was locked. Pulling out Craig’s key ring, Nancy tried each key. None of them opened the door.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that door,” Craig said, coming into the hall. “There’s nothing behind it.”

  “You mean the closet is empty?” Nancy asked.

  “It’s not a closet,” Craig said. “It’s an old elevator shaft. There was a freight elevator there. You know the kind that works with a key? It hasn’t been used in years.”

  Nancy’s pulse quickened. “Is the elevator still there? Does it work?”

  “I don’t see how it could. They shut it down years ago because it was unsafe. No one in his right mind would get into the thing, even if he could.”

  Nancy was examining the door, inch by inch. “Ned, Craig—look at this,” she suddenly called. “There.”

  Nancy pointed to a thin crack. It ran around the perimeter of the door. “Someone used this elevator recently,” she insisted. “When the door opened, it cracked through these old layers of paint.”

  Ned and Craig exchanged a look. “You’re right,” Ned said. “Good work, Nan.”

  Nancy found a piece of wire and went to work on the lock. She twisted it until she felt something give. With a triumphant smile, she opened the door.

  The elevator shaft fell off in front of her. Grabbing Ned’s hand to anchor herself, she leaned in and peered down. “How do we call the elevator?”

  Craig gestured to another lock on the wall just outside the door. “I guess you can pick this lock. You used to need a key to call the elevator.”

  Nancy set about trying to open the old lock. Finally it clicked, and she heard the old elevator car creaking up the shaft.

  “Sounds like it’s been used recently,” she murmured. “The thief must have put it in working order.”

  As they watched, a black cage rose out of the gloom and glided to a halt. Nancy grabbed the handle and pulled the iron accordion door to one side. “Anyone coming with me?” she invited.

  Craig and Ned looked at each other uneasily. “It’s pretty old—do you think it will carry three of us?” Craig asked.

  Nancy’s eyes twinkled. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Chapter

  Ten

  NANCY TRIED the old elevator lever. It moved easily. Hurriedly, Ned and Craig hopped on, too. She pushed the lever to the right and the cage began to rise. Through the grate, they could see the rough cement walls of the shaft. They passed the fourth- and fifth-floor doors. The elevator stopped on the top floor. The door to the roof level was locked.

  “If our thief went to the roof, he’d have to climb down without being seen,” Nancy said. “Not very likely. Let’s see what happens when we go down.”

  She threw the switch to the left. Seven floors went by. The elevator settled at the bottom.

  “This must be the lobby,” Craig commented as he reached for the door.

  Nancy shook her head. “No, the building only has six floors. I counted seven. This has to be the basement.”

  Craig looked at her in surprise. “There is no basement,” he said.

  Ignoring Craig for the moment, Nancy pushed against the outside door. It swung open noiselessly. Stepping out, they found themselves in a small, damp gray room. A light next to the elevator door cast dark shadows around them.

  Craig whistled softly. “Well, I’ll be—” he exclaimed.

  “I’ll bet this is the thief’s escape route,” Nancy whispered excitedly.

  The space was empty except for a cobweb-covered fuse box on one wall. A black hole in the wall directly opposite the elevator led to a passageway. There was another passageway on their right. At the end of each, Nancy saw a thin glow of light.

  “These are tunnels!” Nancy said, amazed. “It looks like they connect the basements of the buildings.”

  “That’s right,” Craig said excitedly. “I’ve heard the old maintenance guys talking about using the tunnels in the old days to get from building to building. I thought they’d all been sealed up.”

  “They’re unsealed now,” Nancy said grimly. She took a step toward one.

  “Nan, hold on.” Grasping her elbow, Ned pulled her back. “It’s late and it’s dark in there. Whoever stole the CLT left almost twe
nty-four hours ago. Wouldn’t it be better to come back tomorrow—with a good flashlight?”

  Ned was right, Nancy realized. “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “Let’s go back to the dorm and plan our next move.”

  They left Craig at the lab and headed over to Holland. Nancy and Ned had barely entered the lounge when Jan and Mike burst into the room with a girl Nancy had never met. She was wearing a bulky white sweater and green wool pants, and she had curly dark red hair that swung halfway down her back.

  Breathlessly, Jan introduced them. “Nancy, this is Amber Thomas. She’s Angela Morrow’s roommate,” Jan explained. “And she’s got bad news.”

  Nancy and Ned exchanged startled glances.

  “We’d better sit down,” Nancy said.

  “Nancy, this isn’t like Angela at all,” Amber cried. “She was supposed to come back today. She didn’t, so I called her house.” Amber took a deep breath. “Her mom hadn’t seen her. Angela never went home.”

  “That does it,” Ned declared angrily. “I’m going to find her.”

  Nancy knew better than to try to talk Ned out of it. “At this point,” she said slowly, “I think that’s the best thing for you to do. But, Ned,” she added, “you should wait until morning, too.”

  Ned smiled. “It’s a deal. I’d better get to bed so I can get an early start. Good night, Nan. And don’t you guys worry—I’ll call as soon as I find out anything.”

  • • •

  After a night of troubled sleep, Nancy was hurrying to the science building. As she passed the infirmary, a commotion in the doorway caught her attention. A girl with a shower of long blond hair was pleading with the nurse at the front door. It was Karen Lewis. A brown bundle lay at her feet. Looking closer, Nancy saw it was an injured dog. Curious, Nancy walked over to see what was going on.

  Karen was very distraught. She had found the dog by the side of the road and was begging the nurse to take a look at it.

  “But I’m not a veterinarian,” the nurse kept repeating. “I treat people. I don’t know the first thing about dogs.”

  “There must be something you can do,” Karen insisted wildly. “If you don’t, the poor thing’s going to die.”

  Nancy was right behind them now. “Excuse me,” she cut in. Karen whirled around at the sound of her voice. “Maybe there is something you could do,” she suggested. “Could you describe the dog’s condition to a vet? There must be one in Emersonville we could call.”

  “Well, I guess so,” the nurse said uncertainly.

  “I’ll pay for the call,” Karen burst out. The nurse nodded and went inside.

  Karen stood silently next to Nancy, avoiding her eyes.

  “Is it your dog?” Nancy asked lightly, trying not to put Karen off.

  Karen shook her head. “I found it. I was hiking all morning, and when I returned I saw it beside the highway on the edge of the campus.”

  “And you carried it here?” Nancy was surprised.

  “Does everyone think I’m crazy to help this dog?” Karen challenged. “If it was your dog, you’d be happy.”

  “Sorry,” Nancy offered. “You did the right thing.”

  The nurse returned, smiling happily. “I reached a vet, and he said he was going out and would stop by here.” She bent down and put her hands on the dog’s side. “He said to check his gums to make sure they aren’t too white or too red, take his pulse, and keep him warm.”

  As Karen bent to stroke the injured animal, Nancy backed away. Karen was certainly sincere in her love for animals. She was even softhearted about animals that didn’t belong to her. Perhaps Nancy was wrong to distrust POE and its members. Ned might be confusing his concern for Angela with his feelings about the group.

  There was too much going on, Nancy told herself with a sigh. First the CLT mystery, now the trouble with Angela and POE. At least she felt closer to solving one mystery now.

  Nancy decided against tackling the tunnels under Emerson without more information. She went to the library and buried herself in a pile of books about the architecture of Emerson. After two books, she found what she was looking for—a series of drawings showing the extensive tunnel system. It spread to every one of the original buildings on campus. The map also confirmed that none of the tunnels went beyond the campus. The thief had to be holding the stolen CLT somewhere on the grounds, Nancy decided.

  She was eager to begin her search of the tunnels, but an uneasy feeling nagged at her. She had to check a little further. On a hunch, she went to the section where microfilms of the local newspapers were kept. In the Emersonian, the school’s paper, she found a feature article on Josef Maszak. It mentioned that he had come from Jamison College, another midwestern school, where he had taught for three years. The Jamison students had given him the Beller Award for excellence in teaching three years in a row.

  Nancy remembered the loyalty both Sara and Angela had shown toward Maszak. He really did inspire his students, she realized. Jamison College was in the same sports league as Emerson, and the library kept a record of its rival’s papers. Nancy searched that microfilm, too, stopping at the issues that came out when Maszak was at Jamison.

  A headline caught her eye: BACTERIA DESTROYED IN LAB. She felt a tingle of excitement as she read.

  One of the school’s most important experiments involving five different kinds of bacteria had to be destroyed yesterday in the science lab. A sample of rheumatic fever, a disease caused by bacteria, had begun growing out of control. Professor Aaron Miller, who was in charge of the project, was quoted as saying, “We have no idea what happened. The bacteria grew so quickly that we had to take extreme measures to destroy it. Unfortunately, by destroying the bacteria, we also destroyed the cause of its abnormal growth. Now we’ll never know what brought this about.” No damage or injuries were reported.

  There was no mention of Josef Maszak, but he had been at Jamison at this time. Nancy flipped through the rest of the film. Toward the end of the reel, an ad caught her eye. It announced a lecture series on Third World countries. Dr. Pranav Mohammed would discuss famine relief that Tuesday, and consumer advocate Philip Bangs would lecture on the evils of chemical weapons. The lecture series was sponsored by POE.

  Nancy froze. Environmentalist groups were probably common at schools, but she was sure Philip Bangs had said Karen Lewis had created POE at Emerson. He had even said there were no other POE groups! He had been lying.

  With a start, Nancy remembered the earring Sara had found in the lab. No one had ever claimed it. Was it because its owner couldn’t admit to having been in the lab?

  This was more than a coincidence, Nancy thought with certainty. The same secret group, the same speaker, and the same professor—they had to be connected, but how?

  Chapter

  Eleven

  NANCY NEARLY FLEW across campus. She held her purse steady, glad she had taken the time to make a copy of the tunnel map.

  On the map, she noticed the tunnels led to a dorm only fifty feet from Adams Cottage, where Professor Maszak lived. Nancy intended to take that route herself. If it was unblocked, Maszak would have both a motive and an opportunity for stealing the CLT himself. He’d have a lot of explaining to do, Nancy thought grimly. Philip Bangs might very well be part of his explanation.

  After heading straight for the science building, Nancy picked the lock on the freight elevator and stepped inside. The elevator creaked down to the basement. Nancy slid the door open and stepped out cautiously, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the weak light. She pulled out her map and held it under the bare yellow bulb mounted on the cement wall.

  According to the drawing, the tunnel in front of her led back toward the center of campus, winding under the gym, toward the administration building. The tunnel opposite went to the dorm next to the professor’s house. Nancy pulled out the flashlight she had brought along and played it along the uneven ground. The light was just bright enough to show her the way.

  Moving to the mouth of the tunnel, she bou
nced the small circle of light along the walls. Stepping carefully, her pumps slipped a little on the rocky foundation. From somewhere she heard a dripping noise. A broken pipe? she wondered. She touched the wall gingerly. It was dry.

  There was an odd rustling in the corridor. Nancy swung the flashlight around her but saw nothing. The sound didn’t repeat itself. Cautiously, she continued. There was a faint light ahead and she could tell that she was approaching another building.

  The tunnel opened up and Nancy stepped into another basement area, lit by a makeshift light, which was no more than a bare bulb attached to a long orange extension cord. The ground was sandier here. Bending down, she made out scuff marks in the dirt. So someone had been here before her! Nancy examined her map. She should be standing directly under the English building.

  Could the scuff marks mean someone had come down from this building? The basement was empty, without even a fuse box to bring a maintenance worker there on legitimate business. Nancy tried the door. It was sealed shut.

  The English building was the last exit before the long, dead-end corridor toward Adams Cottage. She tried to look down the tunnel, but the beam from the flashlight didn’t penetrate very far into the darkness. The weak basement light illuminated only the first few feet of the tunnel, but she saw that the footprints led into it. Her muscles tensed.

  As silently as possible, Nancy crept down the corridor. She doubted there was anyone down there with her, but she remembered the rustling she had heard. She wasn’t going to take any chances. Gingerly, she stepped over the small rocks in the foundation floor.

  It was getting harder to see, Nancy realized suddenly. The light from the flashlight had dimmed considerably. She shook the flashlight but nothing happened. The batteries were fading. Looking behind her, she could no longer see the bulb from under the English building. She decided to forge ahead, anyway.

  Shining the light ahead of her, she could see only two or three feet at the most. The tunnel unrolled before her in endless blackness.

  The flashlight dimmed even more, and after she had gone only a few more feet, it flickered twice and died. With a sense of dread, Nancy fished out the penlight she always kept in her purse. Its thin beam barely pierced the blackness around her. She stood absolutely still, trying to picture the map in her mind. She couldn’t be too far away from the dorm, she reasoned. It would be best to save the penlight for an emergency use and grope her way down the rest of the tunnel.