The Wrong Chemistry, Page 2

  “Okay.” He shrugged. “My back injuries weren’t as bad as the doctors first thought, and my leg is healing. I can even walk short distances now without the cane.”

  “I’m going to rummage around for some chips or something. Anyone want anything?” Jan headed for the kitchen.

  “Yeah, bring everything you can carry,” Ned called. “I’m starving!”

  “Ned, I’m sorry,” Nancy said in dismay. “You should have gone to lunch without me.”

  “And missed my number-one girl? No way! But we will have dinner tonight—at a very romantic little place I know,” Ned said. “But what did happen? Did Dean Jarvis keep you talking? I know he loves to talk.”

  “Partly, but then I ran into some people,” Nancy said wryly. “Literally. Do you know about POE?”

  Ned groaned. “Not them. Did they try to recruit you?”

  “Sort of.” Nancy explained what happened in the arboretum.

  “Water guns? They’re nuts!” Ned exclaimed. “They might mean well, but their methods—” He shuddered.

  “Ned’s right,” Mike agreed. “I’m all for protecting the environment, but I think there are better ways to do it. POE’s tactics are weird.”

  “What exactly do they do?” Nancy asked.

  “They go out in the woods where they live off the land and go rock climbing and stuff. And they’re always talking about stopping any technology that threatens the environment,” Ned said in a steely voice.

  Nancy frowned. “Well, those all sound like good causes.”

  “They are good causes,” Jan said lightly, coming back in the room. “Ned’s exaggerating. Right now they’re all fired up about a visit from Senator Claiborne.”

  “I read about that,” Nancy exclaimed. “He’s the one who thinks we should sell our national parklands to developers. Most people think he’s a genuine nut. If POE is against him, I’ll have to be for them.”

  Jan and Mike exchanged uneasy looks. Nancy noticed Ned’s jaw clench and anger wash over his face.

  “Did I say something wrong?” she asked warily. She started to put her hand on Ned’s shoulder, but he backed away. Nancy felt her heart sink.

  “Maybe we should stop all this talking and eat,” Nancy said, trying to change the subject. “It’s not too late for this snack, is it?”

  Ned glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid it is,” he said curtly. “Anyway, I don’t have much appetite now, and we’re going to be late for class. Come on, Mike, Jan. We’ve got to hurry.”

  Jan helped Mike to his feet. Giving Nancy apologetic looks, they headed for the front door.

  “Ned, what’s wrong?” Nancy grabbed Ned’s arm as he started to follow Jan and Mike out of the room. “A minute ago you were so happy to see me. What happened? What did I do?”

  Ned pulled away. At the front door he stopped, his face set in a hard mask. Nancy stared, completely baffled by the change in him.

  “If you think POE is such a great group, fine. But just do me a favor, okay? Don’t ever mention them in front of me again!”

  Chapter

  Three

  NANCY WAS STUNNED. She’d been so thrilled to see Ned, and now this. It was so unlike him to overreact. Whatever she did, Nancy vowed, she wouldn’t mention POE.

  She watched as Ned walked off with Jan and Mike. As soon as he had calmed down, she’d find out why her sticking up for the group had upset him so much. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it now, so she decided to find her dorm and unpack.

  Nancy didn’t have to share her room, and it had a private bath. With a sigh, she dumped her bags, plopped onto the bed, and kicked off her shoes. Then she remembered she had promised to let her father, Carson Drew, know when she had arrived.

  Rolling onto her stomach, Nancy grabbed the phone and dialed. Her father’s voice came over the wire.

  “Carson Drew,” he answered pleasantly.

  “Hi, Dad. Just called to let you know I’m safe and sound.”

  “I knew you would be, but it’s always nice to hear your voice. Have you learned anything more about the case yet?”

  Carson Drew was a celebrated lawyer, and he was always interested in Nancy’s cases. The famous father had passed his curiosity on to his daughter, and it was one of the things that made her such a good detective.

  “It’s pretty fascinating,” Nancy began. She stopped, having heard a noise in the hall. “Hold on, Dad. Someone’s at the door. The dean promised to send over some information, and this is probably it.”

  Nancy tucked the telephone under her chin and went to the door, dragging the long cord behind her. Before she could open the door, an envelope was slid under it.

  Stooping, Nancy quickly grabbed the envelope and opened the door just in time to see the back of the person who had obviously delivered it.

  “Hey, thanks,” she called.

  Whoever it was gave a casual wave but didn’t turn around or slow down to look back.

  “Oh, well,” Nancy said to her father, explaining what had just happened. “So much for the natives being friendly.” The envelope was much smaller than Nancy had expected. Puzzled, she weighed it in her hand. Judging from the envelope’s lightness, there wasn’t much information on Professor Maszak at all.

  Shrugging, she slit open the flap and gave her father a brief account of her conversation with the dean. She described how secretive Professor Maszak’s experiment was, and how difficult it would make her investigation.

  “That is a problem,” Carson said sympathetically. “But maybe this new information will help you out.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy agreed. She pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope and scanned it quickly.

  “Nan?” her father asked after a long silence. “Are you still there?”

  “Uh—sorry, Dad.” Nancy shook herself. “It’s—well, there isn’t much information here after all.”

  “Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” Nancy heard her father say. “But that’s nothing new.”

  “I guess not,” Nancy answered, smiling wryly. “Look, Dad, I’ve got to go. It looks like this case is going to be harder than I thought.”

  Hanging up, Nancy stared at the piece of paper in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to worry her father, but the envelope wasn’t from Dean Jarvis.

  Instead, it was a warning, hastily scrawled in bold red ink. “Go home, Nancy Drew. CLT is not in your future.”

  Nancy quickly ran back into the hall, but there was no sign of the messenger who’d delivered the threat. Making her way down to the lounge, she tried to remember what the person had looked like.

  She questioned the girl at the front desk, but she hadn’t seen anyone who matched the sketchy description Nancy gave either enter or leave the building. In fact, the look the girl gave Nancy as she questioned her made her blush.

  “Listen, if you remember anything, let me know. You can leave a note at the desk,” Nancy said.

  “Sure,” the girl said, rolling her eyes.

  It wasn’t the best start to an investigation. Already, just minutes into the case, Nancy had missed an important clue by not paying attention to what was happening around her. It wouldn’t happen again.

  She had to admit that part of her mind was still on Ned. Why had he been so angry with her earlier? Well, if she couldn’t figure Ned out, at least she could track down the missing CLT.

  Squaring her shoulders, she set off for the science labs a quarter mile away toward the center of the campus. A steady stream of students poured from the building entrance, jostling and shouting, obviously in high spirits at the end of the day. Nancy waded through them to the big glass double doors.

  An unattended desk stood on one side of the almost deserted lobby. Pausing at the elevator banks, Nancy checked the directory. Professor Maszak’s lab was on the third floor.

  When the elevator doors opened on the third floor, Nancy found herself face-to-face with a security guard seated behind a desk.

  “Signature and ID,”
he said automatically, without looking up from his magazine. “But classes are over for the day.”

  “I’m not here for class,” she replied to the brim of his cap. “And I don’t have an ID. I’m here to see Professor Josef Maszak.”

  The guard glanced up sharply. “What did you say your name was?”

  He reached for the sheet she had just signed. “Nancy Drew. Wait a minute.” The guard checked another piece of paper. “Right—you’ve got clearance.” Then he went back to reading. “Last door on your right,” he mumbled.

  Nancy raised her eyebrows. Some security! The guard hadn’t even tried to verify who she was. It obviously wasn’t very difficult for anyone to get into the building. She hoped the lab itself was better protected.

  Nancy found the door easily and knocked.

  “It’s open,” someone called.

  Great security, Nancy thought again as she entered a large, bright room dominated by huge picture windows. Long lab desks, each with a sink and gas outlets, faced the chalkboard in the front of the room. Three or four students were still there, bent over the tables.

  “Excuse me,” Nancy ventured. “Is Professor Maszak here?”

  A freckle-faced boy gestured to a door on his left. A large combination lock was mounted on the wall next to it, but the door was slightly ajar.

  “Right there, in his office,” the boy said.

  Nancy pushed into a much smaller room strewn with lab equipment. Professor Maszak sat on a high stool behind a counter busily doing paperwork. His bush of salt-and-pepper hair obscured his face.

  “You’re late,” he barked.

  “I didn’t know I was expected,” Nancy said pleasantly.

  The professor started. He raised his head, his light brown eyes widening in alarm. Color rushed into his face.

  “Who do you think you are, sneaking up on me like that? How did you get in here?”

  “It wasn’t very hard,” Nancy said pointedly. “Dean Jarvis said this room was always under lock and key.”

  Maszak had the grace to look embarrassed. “I left it open only for a minute,” he said, defending himself. “I was expecting my assistant, Sara,” he muttered. “I thought you were she.”

  “I’m Nancy Drew.”

  “Oh, now I remember. I was expecting you,” the fiftyish Maszak said gruffly.

  He got up, wiping his hands on a dirty lab coat, and closed the door. “Jarvis told me he’d called you in to investigate.” He eyed Nancy closely. “You don’t look much like a famous detective.”

  Nancy ignored the remark and surveyed the room. A ten-foot fish tank ran along the right wall and several open-wire cages covered the left. An industrial-size freezer filled the back of the room. Maszak motioned Nancy over to the fish tank.

  “This,” he announced proudly, “is my experiment.”

  The tank held carp of all sizes, but one very large fish swam along the bottom of the tank. Nancy bent closer. The fish was enormous.

  Professor Maszak’s eyes followed hers. “My pride and joy,” he said. “How old do you think he is?”

  Nancy had no idea how to judge the age of a fish. “A year?” she guessed.

  Maszak snorted. “Six months,” he said proudly. “Can you believe it?”

  Smiling slightly, Nancy went to examine the cages. Each one held several mice, which ranged from normal size to several exceptionally large ones.

  “I take it CLT is some kind of growth drug,” she remarked.

  “You’re very quick,” the professor said. “That’s precisely what it is.”

  Nancy stared at him. What kind of “top secret” experiment was this? First, there was hardly any security around the lab, and then the professor practically boasted about his so-called secret experiment.

  “I don’t understand,” Nancy told him. “I thought this was all restricted information. It can’t be as simple as a chemical to grow bigger fish and mice.”

  Maszak laughed. “Some people get a little carried away with the cloak-and-dagger stuff,” he said, returning to his papers and shuffling them. “CLT is a rare, extremely expensive chemical. There are others that give much the same results.”

  “And it isn’t dangerous?” Nancy asked, feeling more and more confused.

  The professor snorted. “If you drink it, it’ll give you a stomachache. But if you mean, is it potentially lethal, the answer is no.”

  “The dean told me that both times the CLT was stolen, it was taken at a very crucial time during your experiment.”

  “Well, yes,” Maszak said, “but not during the experiment, before it. I treat the CLT in a special way that only I have the formula for. It’s a lengthy process. After it’s treated, I put the finished product in the freezer. That was when the CLT was stolen.”

  Maszak threw open the freezer door. On the lower shelf, Nancy saw a large metal cylinder that nearly filled the freezer.

  Nancy whistled in surprise. “It’s huge! I guess I thought they’d be smaller.”

  “The amounts are very small,” Maszak explained. “The CLT itself is sealed in small plastic tubes. The container helps keep it at the right temperature. I got a canister in this delivery,” he continued. “My first delivery was two canisters, and one of them was stolen. My second delivery was only one canister and it was stolen. But I did do work with the one canister that wasn’t stolen.”

  “And now you’re about to complete the third treatment?” Nancy asked.

  Maszak eyed her with grudging admiration. “As you guessed,” he said, gesturing to a mass of test tubes set up at the other counter from where he had been doing his paperwork, “I’m in the final stages of treatment now.”

  Nancy examined the tubes and beakers on the central counter. They meant nothing to her. Maszak could be telling the truth, or giving her the runaround to hide his real purpose. Without some hard facts about the experiment, there was no way for her to know for sure.

  A noise came from the outer lab. Frowning, Maszak hurried to the door. Nancy followed him.

  The students she’d seen before had left the lab, but in their place was a girl with brown hair who was standing at a lab table near the windows. She was holding a beaker up to the light. Her scarf and bag had been thrown over a nearby chair, but she still had her coat on.

  “You’re late again, Sara!” Maszak exclaimed. “Nancy, this is my assistant, Sara Hughes.”

  As the girl whirled around, a look of fear flashed across her plump face.

  “I—I know I’m late,” she stuttered, “but I can finish this up in a minute.”

  Maszak nodded curtly. “Nancy is here to interview me for the paper. She may want to ask you some questions, too.”

  The girl looked guardedly at Nancy. “Well, I have to get this done right away. I don’t have time for questions.”

  Sara turned back to the setup on the table and gently scooped some dull gray powder into a small measuring spoon.

  “At least take off your coat,” Maszak said.

  Still balancing the spoon in her right hand, Sara began to unbutton her coat with her left hand. She shrugged her shoulders vigorously, trying to slip the coat off.

  “Sara, watch yourself,” Maszak cautioned. “Remember what you’ve got in your hands!”

  Nancy had an impulse to help, but as she came up behind Sara, the girl suddenly twisted sharply, then stumbled. As she reached to steady herself, the spoon fell from her hand. The gray powder landed in the beaker with a small fizz.

  “Watch out!” Maszak cried.

  The beaker exploded, sending splinters of glass flying everywhere!

  Chapter

  Four

  CLOSING HER EYES, Nancy threw up her hands to cover her face. She heard Professor Maszak yell to Sara to protect herself as pieces of glass clattered to the floor. Sara gave a little cry, and Nancy heard her footsteps as she rushed out of the room.

  When Nancy opened her eyes, the professor was staring after Sara with a rueful expression. He bent to pick up the larger fragm
ents from the floor.

  Nancy bent down to help him. “What was that?” she asked.

  Maszak sighed. “Nothing. A stupid mistake.”

  Nancy arched an eyebrow.

  “Sara is supervising two class experiments at once. She wasn’t paying attention, and she dropped part of one into part of the other. They didn’t agree with each other.”

  “To put it mildly,” Nancy murmured. “Shouldn’t she take better precautions with explosives?”

  “Neither is explosive by itself. The powder is zinc,” the professor said. “And there was hydrochloric acid in the beaker.” The professor was silent for a moment, studying the glass fragments nestled in his palm. “But you’re right. They shouldn’t have been near each other. I’m afraid Sara has been a little distracted lately. I’ll have to speak to her about it.” He didn’t seem to be looking forward to their conversation.

  “I have to get ready for a dinner date,” Nancy told him, hoping Ned was still speaking to her. “But if I need to ask any more questions, where can I reach you?”

  “Here or at home. I live in Adams Cottage, near the main gate. But I’m usually here.”

  Nancy thanked the professor and left the lab. She decided to head back to the dorm to see if Dean Jarvis had sent the information he’d promised or to check if Ned called. Nothing. She’d have to check with both of them later.

  Nancy flopped on her bed and tried to concentrate on the case, but her thoughts kept coming back to Ned. She hated it when they fought, especially when there wasn’t any real reason for it. She decided then and there to do whatever it took to make up with Ned.

  After a quick shower, Nancy slipped on her blue silk dress—Ned’s favorite. In that dress she could smooth out their problems. The soft fabric flowed smoothly over her hips. She brushed back her thick hair, which looked more gold than red in the artificial light, and was just running some clear gloss over her lips when the telephone rang. Nancy’s heart leapt.

  “Nancy, this is Mike O’Shea. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

  “No, not at all.” Nancy swallowed her disappointment. She’d have to call Ned as soon as Mike hung up. “What’s up?”