Killer Connections

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Killer Connections Page 9

by Franklin W. Dixon


  “I’m thinking maybe that was just an accident.” I shrugged. “Anyway, we’re freewheeling it here, remember? Let’s not get too caught up in the loose ends.”

  “So what do we do now? Confront him with the evidence and see what he says?”

  “Yeah. It’s getting late, but we should track him down first thing tomorrow.”

  “Why wait?” Joe pointed across the darkening Green. “There he is now.”

  He was right. Nigel himself was hurrying along the path on the far side of the lawn. Even at this distance, I could see the little red “record” light on his camcorder blinking away.

  “Quick, don’t let him out of sight!” I took off across the grass with Joe right behind me.

  When we caught up to Nigel, he was talking to himself. Or rather, to his camera. Some kind of voiceover stuff, maybe.

  “Mr. Nabb,” I called as we neared him. “We need to talk to you about something.”

  He glanced over at us. When he recognized Joe, he frowned.

  “Oh. It’s dog boy,” he said. “Sorry, lads. I’m busy.”

  “It’s important,” Joe insisted. “Come with us, okay? There’s a place nearby where we can talk in private.”

  “Sorry, lads.” Nigel kept hurrying along in the direction he’d been going. “No time for chitchat. Just got a hot tip on some barmy upper-crust secret-society ritual going down any second now. It’s going to be gold—I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  Joe and I traded a look. Secret-society ritual? Was he talking about the Brothers of Erebus? Could the shadowy group still have something to do with all this?

  “Let’s let him go, then tag along and see what’s up,” Joe whispered, holding me back as Nigel rushed on. “We can always bust him afterward.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We let Nigel get a head start, then started tailing him. He was rushing along toward the woods at the edge of the manicured campus, not seeming to notice we were following.

  “Think he’s heading for that old hunting cabin in the woods where all that other BoE stuff went down?” I whispered.

  Joe shrugged. “Kinda looks that way. If he turns down that path, we’ll know he—hey, what’s he doing?”

  Nigel had stopped just short of the forest’s edge. One of the Firth golf carts was parked there. The school maintained a small fleet of the carts, which were outfitted in the Firth colors. I’d seen them shuttling elderly guests around campus and being used for other errands.

  “Brilliant!” Nigel’s loud, distinctive voice drifted back to us on the cool breeze. Talking to himself again. “Now I won’t have to ruin my Ferragamos slogging through the mud and snow in this godforsaken place… .”

  “Quick,” Joe hissed. “He’s going to commandeer that cart! We’ll never be able to keep up on foot.”

  I was already darting forward. Nigel had been pretty quick to tell us where he was going, which meant he wasn’t too concerned about keeping it secret. Maybe if we asked nicely, he’d let us ride along with him. Especially if we promised to share lots of juicy Firth gossip on the way.

  Joe was clearly thinking along the same lines. “You do the talking, bro,” he said, putting on a burst of speed as Nigel climbed into the vehicle and reached for the ignition. “He’s more likely to—”

  BLAM!

  I was knocked flat on my back as the golf cart exploded in a fiery blast.

  Out of Time

  I hit the ground hard. Beside me, I heard Frank let out a surprised “Oof!”

  A quick glance showed him looking dazed but okay. I pushed myself to my feet. All my parts still seemed to be in working order. Good.

  I glanced ahead at the remains of the golf cart. Not so good.

  “Nigel?” I called, racing forward.

  It was still hot up there from the explosion. I could feel it on my feet, even through the soles of my shoes. Flames licked at the twisted metal and plastic chunks.

  When I got a little closer, my stomach started to churn. I turned away and hurried back to Frank, who had just climbed to his feet with a groan.

  “Nigel?” he asked.

  “Dead.” I shuddered. “Way dead.”

  Frank looked grim. He glanced over his shoulder as several shouts came from the direction of the cafeteria.

  “Guess everyone heard the blast,” he said. “What should we do?”

  “Blend in, I guess.” I bit my lip, shooting a quick glance in the direction of our top suspect. What was left of him, anyway. “Because I’m thinking we may still be here for a while.”

  Frank shook his head. “Just when we thought we had this mission nailed down …”

  There was no more time for conversation. The shouts and confused voices were getting closer. Frank and I split up and melted into the gathering crowd.

  I found myself surrounded by chattering freshmen. They were all excited about yet another explosion on campus. Guess they hadn’t expected prep school to be so much like an action movie.

  Glancing around, I spotted Dr. Montgomery. He was hobbling over from the direction of his home.

  Seeing him reminded me of something. He was a Brother of Erebus. His name had been on the list Frank had seen on Darity’s computer. Plus, Montgomery had all but admitted it before. And Nigel had been rushing off in search of the secret society. Maybe this was a good time to ask the former headmaster a few questions about the mysterious group.

  “Hello, sir,” I said, falling into step with him.

  Montgomery peered ahead. People were milling around the site of the explosion. There were a few shrieks. Probably people getting a look at the body.

  I felt a flash of guilt. Frank and I were better equipped to handle that kind of sight than the average high school kid. Should we have stayed put and chased people off until the cops—or at least Dr. Darity—arrived on the scene?

  I pushed the thought aside. We’d gotten away with doing that once before when Lewis was killed. But our cover was a lot shakier now. If we played traffic cops again, especially after the implications on the blog, there was no way we’d be able to stick around at Firth any longer.

  “What’s going on, my boy?” Montgomery asked me, leaning heavily on his cane for support.

  “I’m not exactly sure.” That much was the truth, anyway. “I think it was that reporter, Nigel Nabb.”

  Montgomery shot me a sharp-eyed look. “You can be straight with me,” he said quietly. “I know you’re ATAC, remember?”

  That’s right. I’d almost forgotten.

  “Okay,” I said. “It was Nabb. We were tailing him—he said he was going to film some secret-society ritual going on tonight. I’m guessing it was the Brothers of Erebus.”

  “What?” Montgomery pursed his lips and shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no ritual happening tonight, or I’d know about it.” Then he caught himself. “Er, if there were such a group as the Brothers of Erebus anymore, of course …”

  I was about to remind him that he could be straight with me. After all, I’d been there to hear Ellery’s confession.

  Instead I decided to let it drop. I’d just noticed that Spencer was among the students milling around. He was a BoE member, so if there was a ritual, he’d surely be out there in the woods instead of here. So maybe Montgomery was right and there was no ritual. Had somebody lied to Nigel to lure him to his doom?

  Another thought occurred to me. We didn’t know how Nigel had heard about the ritual. What if the lie had actually been meant for Frank and me? What if we were the ones who were supposed to be tempted by that golf cart parked oh-so-conveniently at the head of the trail?

  The thought made me queasy. But I pushed it aside, doing my best to focus on the facts.

  I looked around. Patton was goggling at the scene nearby. So were most of the GTT guys. Destiny was standing alone, staring at the wreckage. Her boyfriend, Lee, was nowhere in sight. My heart sank. Did that mean something?

  Dr. Montgomery was still standing there, watching the
flames. His lined face was sad and tired.

  “It’s just too bad this had to happen,” he muttered. “If Darity hadn’t pushed things …”

  “Sir?” I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to me or himself. I guess it was the latter. Because he just looked at me and then turned away.

  My hands clenched in frustration. Why did the former headmaster have to be so prim and proper all the time? I had a feeling he’d been about to say something critical. Something about Darity. Possibly something that could help us crack this case.

  But I was pretty sure it wouldn’t do any good to question him. He was too genteel to come out and criticize the current headmaster, no matter what. Firth First …

  I heard a buzz and reached for my pocket. But it wasn’t my phone. It was Montgomery’s.

  He pulled out a cell phone. No, not just a cell phone—a super-high-tech PDA. He glanced at it, then started texting back a response, his gnarled fingers flying over the tiny keys.

  I couldn’t help being surprised. Montgomery was an old-fashioned guy—it was like seeing Shakespeare typing up Macbeth on a laptop while listening to his iPod. Okay, maybe not that bad. But I never would have pegged the old guy as a techie.

  “Joe!” Dr. Darity hurried toward me, looking pale and anxious. “There you are. Where’s Killer? The authorities are on their way, but I was thinking Killer might be able to pick up some clues before they arrive.”

  Uh-oh. “Um, Killer’s not here,” I said.

  Darity looked impatient. “Could you go get him, please? Your cottage isn’t far, and I really think we—”

  “No, that’s the thing.” I swallowed hard. “Killer’s, um, missing.”

  “Missing?”

  “Dognapped.”

  Darity stared at me as if I’d just started speaking a different language. But he recovered quickly. “Are you sure?” he hissed, lowering his voice. “My God, whatever you do, don’t let Dr. Montgomery know!” He looked nervously toward the former headmaster, who was still bent over his PDA nearby. “If he thinks he’s lost one more beloved Firth tradition, it’ll probably kill him!”

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered back. “We’re keeping it on the DL until we figure out what’s going on.”

  I stopped as Mrs. Wilson suddenly appeared on the scene. She started to hurry toward Dr. Montgomery. Then she spotted me and stopped short.

  “What’s he still doing here?” she demanded in a loud voice, jabbing a finger in my direction.

  Darity blinked, looking taken aback. “Er, what do you mean?”

  The housekeeper glared at me. “Everyone knows that dog disappeared yesterday and hasn’t been seen since,” she declared loudly. By now, several people were staring at us curiously. “Didn’t you fire the last girl for much less?”

  I froze in horror. But my mind was still clicking along. Was the glare she was giving me extra suspicious? I flashed back to the day Frank and I had paid a visit to the Cottage to talk to Montgomery. That was when we’d first discovered that he knew our true ID. While we were leaving, Mrs. Wilson had appeared. We hadn’t been sure if she’d overheard the conversation or not.

  I still wasn’t sure. She was never exactly pleasant even at the best of times. And if she felt as strongly about school tradition as her boss, it was no wonder she’d react this way if she thought Killer was missing.

  “Um, Killer’s just been under the weather,” I stammered out, too startled to come up with a better excuse. “He—he’s staying at the vet’s office in town for a day or two.”

  I scurried off before she could say any more. Luckily, there was so much chaos it was easy to disappear into the crowd, smoke, and darkness.

  Frank was watching the school security guards hold the crowd back. A couple of the guards looked a little queasy. I guessed they didn’t see too many casualties of this type on the sleepy little campus.

  Pulling Frank aside, I filled him in. “Oh, man,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Our cover is breaking up faster than ever. How’d Mrs. Wilson find out about Killer?”

  “Who knows? Everyone says she sees all and knows all around this place.” I shrugged. “Anyway, we’ve got to work fast.”

  “No kidding.” Frank looked grim. “I’d say we have maybe twelve hours max to solve this. Otherwise we’re going to have to pull out and let someone else handle it.”

  I wanted to argue. We’d never quit on a mission before, and I hated to think we might have to do it now. But I knew he was right. Still, twelve hours was twelve hours.

  “Okay,” I said. “So what’s our next move?”

  • • •

  The dorm hallway was dim and quiet. Everyone was still out at the blast scene. Almost everyone.

  Frank and I had sneaked off just far enough to discuss our suspect list. It was getting smaller all the time. Nigel was off, obviously. And so was Darity. We’d realized that he couldn’t have rigged that golf cart. It hadn’t been there when I’d passed by on my way to dinner, or I would have seen it. And Darity had already been in the caf when I’d arrived.

  We’d discussed the possibility that he could have an accomplice. But neither of us was feeling him as a suspect anymore. Among other reasons, I’d noted how surprised he’d seemed when I’d told him about Killer being missing. The guy just didn’t seem like that good an actor.

  That left only one likely suspect on the list. Lee.

  Who else could it be? Once we got past his

  Mr. Nice Guy demeanor and the inspiring life story, it actually made a lot of sense. He was probably the only one on our list who could have pulled off everything.

  He was a star of the soccer team, which meant nobody would look twice at him going in or out of the coach’s office. Like to smear that grease on the floor that had caused the swim coach’s tumble.

  Lee worked in the school office. That gave him access to the computer records, which would have made it easy for him to change his own grades. Although why he would do that was still not clear.

  He could have planted that bomb at the GTT house as easily as anyone, especially since we hadn’t seen him around that day. And he might have tainted the Winner’s Cup to throw suspicion off himself. Stealing that key could have given him access to Darity’s house for the vandalism.

  And now this. When we’d started looking around for him in the crowd at the bomb site, he wasn’t there. And Frank remembered that he’d left dinner a little early.

  And of course, there was that ticket back to Boston, almost as if he’d been planning to run away tonight after one last spectacular stunt….

  “He might already be gone,” I murmured as we tiptoed toward his room. “That bus leaves in, like, three hours. He might have wanted to make sure he was early so he didn’t miss it.”

  Frank shook his head. “I’m guessing he’ll stick around long enough to see the results of his latest stunt. Criminals always seem to do that.”

  I was quiet for a moment as we crept along the deserted hallway. “Why do you think he did it?” I said at last. “Think all the teasing about being a charity case finally drove him over the edge?”

  “We can figure out the psychological details later,” Frank whispered. “If we want to wrap this up, let’s try to stay focused.”

  I shrugged. We were almost at Lee’s door anyway.

  We stopped in front of it, listening.

  “Just go ahead and knock,” I whispered. “We’re on the third floor—it’s not like he can go out the window or anything.”

  Frank nodded. Taking a deep breath, he rapped sharply on the door. “Lee?” he called. “It’s Frank. I need to talk to you.”

  There was no answer.

  For some reason, my mind jumped to Killer. He was the one piece of the puzzle we hadn’t really discussed.

  “Think Killer could be in there?” I whispered with a flash of hope.

  “Let’s find out.” Frank let out a whistle. “Killer? Here, boy!” he called.

  Silence. My heart sank. So much for tha
t—if his beloved Frank called him, Killer would definitely find a way to respond.

  “This is ridiculous,” I hissed. Let’s just break down the door already. Or at least call Darity to let us in.”

  “I have a better idea.” Frank backed away from the door. “Let’s stake out the dorm and see if he comes out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We don’t really have any solid evidence against Lee right now. And like I said, a lot of criminals can’t resist sticking around and visiting the scene of their crime. Maybe Lee will sneak out to see his handiwork before he takes off for town—and give us some more solid proof that he’s our guy.”

  Okay, I had to admit that made sense. “He might go visit Destiny to say good-bye too,” I said. “If Lee does have Killer, maybe he will stop off to release him from wherever he’s got him hidden.” I swallowed back the rest of what I was thinking: If Killer is still alive.

  “Yeah. That would definitely give us enough proof to bust him.” Frank turned down the hall. “Let’s find a spot outside.”

  We set up our stakeout in some bushes with a good view of the dorm’s main entrance. The back door was always locked after nine p.m. If Lee left the building, we’d see him.

  Soon after we got settled, people started drifting back in from the explosion scene. We could hear some of the chatter as they passed us. Most people didn’t seem too sure what had happened. Or even that there had been someone killed in the blast.

  It was kind of fun to sit there and listen to everyone go by. No matter how long I’m in ATAC, playing spies never gets old.

  But eventually things quieted down. After that, nothing happened for a while. A long while.

  I started to yawn. It had been a busy day. My eyes started drooping. I had to pinch myself every few minutes to stay awake.

  Soon my arms were black and blue from all the pinching. Well, not really. But I did realize I actually missed having Killer around. If he’d been here, he’d be keeping watch with no chance of sleepiness.

  The campus grew darker. And quieter. Lights flicked off in the dorms. Stereos went silent. I could almost feel people falling asleep all around us.

 

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