The crime lab case, p.1
The Crime Lab Case, page 1
Contents
* * *
1 The Leader Falls
2 Is Nancy Next?
3 The Death Angel
4 A Double Crime?
5 Setting the Scene
6 Rocks, Locks, Rags, and Chomps
7 Whose Clues?
8 Special Delivery
9 The Curly Clues
10 In the Pits
11 An Enemy Returns
12 Contact!
13 A Clue Down Under
14 The Brush-off
15 The Leader Returns
1
The Leader Falls
Everyone looked up when Nancy Drew walked into the room. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, hurrying to an empty chair at the large conference table. Her low heels clattered across the hardwood floor. “Hello, everyone.”
She took her seat gracefully and smiled at the others around the table. She recognized most of them. They returned her greeting, while two strangers seemed to be sizing her up.
“But just a few minutes late on this lovely Saturday afternoon,” Professor Charles Parris said from the head of the table. He glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall. It showed three minutes after four o’clock.
Adjoining the room, which the professor called his study, were his office and a small private bathroom. Nancy knew from previous visits that the office of his administrative assistant was next door. Next to that was his private chemistry laboratory. As a distinguished professor and research scientist at Westmoor University he had been given the office suite his reputation and international acclaim deserved.
“And you’re not even the last to arrive, Nancy,” Professor Parris added. “Some of you know one another, but while we wait for Connor, let’s get the rest caught up.”
He stood up and looked around the table. The professor was very tall and had a husky build. Nancy thought he might have been an athlete when he was younger. He was now forty-four, and his wavy brown hair, which needed a trim, was threaded with gray. As he spoke, a few laugh lines bracketed his dark blue eyes.
“What a great group we have here,” Professor Parris said. “The Crime Lab campers are going to have a blast. I’ve met with each of you several times as we’ve prepared for next week. Now we have our first meeting all together. Let’s go around the table and each say a few words, starting with my good friend.” Professor Parris sat down and nodded to the man sitting to his left.
“Hi, everyone, I’m Hill Truban. Retired army colonel and former chief of detectives in several major cities around the country, now on special assignment to local law enforcement.”
Detective Truban smiled warmly but didn’t seem inclined to say more. Nancy judged him to be about Professor Parris’s age.
“I have to interrupt the proceedings already,” Professor Parris said with a chuckle. “Hill is far too modest. He is a leading forensics specialist, and we’re lucky to have him home right now. He spends most of his time serving as a consultant for crime labs around the world. When he’s not doing that, he teaches criminal justice administration here at Westmoor.”
The professor nodded to the woman sitting next to Nancy. “Now, Lia, let’s hear from you,” he said.
“Hi, I’m Rosalia Mistino, but everyone calls me Lia. I’m a forensics geologist, which means I study the pebbles, dirt, minerals, and such of a crime scene. I’ll be an adviser to the Rocks, one of the camp teams.”
Nancy caught the fragrance of an exotic, spicy perfume as the woman gestured with her hands. It was hard to tell her age, but Nancy guessed maybe late thirties. Lia’s skin was a dark rosy tan, and her wavy brown hair was pulled back from her pretty face with a red headband.
“Again, such modesty,” the professor said. “Lia and I met last night, and she’s arranged a field trip for our campers to a protected area of a nearby limestone quarry to collect specimens. It will be a special treat for the lucky members of the Rocks.”
Lia turned to Nancy, her black eyes flashing. “Now tell us about yourself.”
“My name is Nancy Drew, and I’m an amateur detective from River Heights,” Nancy began, “just a few miles from here.”
“An amateur, but with a reputation and wealth of experience you all may have heard about,” Professor Parris added.
“Thank you,” Nancy said. “I’ve known Professor Parris since he served as an expert witness for my father, who’s an attorney. I was really excited when the professor asked me to help. I’ll be a special adviser and in charge of the camp counselors.” She turned to her left and smiled at her good friend Bess Marvin.
“Hi, everyone,” Bess said. “I’m really excited about being here, too. Nancy’s my longtime friend, and we’ve been on a lot of cases together, and it’s always been fun, although sometimes a little scary, too, but always fun eventually, because Nancy always figures out what happened. So I’m looking forward to helping my team of campers solve the crime.”
Bess’s straw blond hair flipped around her face as she talked. “Oh! My name is Bess Marvin,” she added. Her blue eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a pale pink.
“Well, I guess it’s my turn,” said the next person. “I’m George Fayne. I’ll be the counselor for the Rocks, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be calling on Lia for advice.” George was also one of Nancy’s best friends. She was Bess’s cousin, but there was no family resemblance. George had brown eyes and dark, curly hair. She was tall and slim and looked like the athlete she was.
“Christy, you’re up,” the professor said, looking fondly at the young woman next to George.
“Most of you know me,” the young woman said.
Nancy had met Christy several times; she was Professor Parris’s niece. Christy had told Nancy that her dad was a career soldier, so her family had lived all over the world. Christy had gotten to know her uncle only in the last year, after she joined the science faculty of Westmoor University.
Nancy figured Christy was in her late twenties. She had golden brown hair that brushed her shoulders in waves. Her greenish eyes were framed by long, curled lashes.
“Uncle Charles asked me to be a counselor,” Christy said, continuing. “I know it’s going to be fun.”
“Okay, I’m here. What’d I miss?” A tall, thin man charged into the room with a slam of the door. “We’re doing intros, right? Perfect.” He turned to a young woman who followed him in. She was carrying a professional-looking camera.
“Just take a few shots,” the man instructed the young woman. “We don’t have much time.”
Nancy guessed he was probably in his early to middle twenties. He had tousled waves of thick red hair, penetrating green eyes, and a ruggedly handsome face.
“Connor!” Professor Parris exclaimed. “What’s going on?”
“Photos,” the young man answered. “Publicity. Let’s get this camp on the map.”
“But I’ve given interviews, and—”
“Pictures are what we need,” the young man said. He walked to the head of the table and stood next to the professor’s chair. “Pictures in the local paper. Okay, we’re ready,” he told the photographer.
The woman snapped a few pictures, thanked them, and left.
“You all probably know who I am.” The young man continued without sitting down. “I’m Connor Brandon, the assistant director of the camp, as well as Charles’s deputy on his research project. Because of that, I won’t have much time to deal with the day-to-day administrative issues of the camp. I did agree to be one of the counselors. Studying teeth and bones as they apply to criminal activity is one of my specialties.”
Nancy immediately sensed a simmering undercurrent between Christy and Connor. For one thing, he didn’t seem to care that he’d interrupted her. She glared at him throughout his whole speech.
“Of course, I’m still not as busy as Charles,” Connor said in conclusion. “So I’m available to any of you for consult if you need it.” He folded his long form into a chair.
“Well, now that we all know one another,” Professor Parris said, “let’s get down to business.” He passed out a folder and a loose-leaf notebook full of neatly typed pages to each person. Nancy quickly glanced through her set.
“Before you get to that, Charles,” Connor broke in. “I’d just like to go over the basics once with all of us in the same room. I want to make sure we all have the same idea of the concept and goals of the camp.”
“All right, Connor,” Professor Parris said with a sigh. “But make it brief, please.”
“Charles created this Crime Lab Camp three years ago,” Connor said, “to promote an interest in the physical sciences and to show high school students that science can be fun.” He paced beside the table as he talked.
“Crime Lab Camp is Charles’s own private endeavor,” Connor continued, “although the university kindly donates some lab equipment and the cafeteria for camp lunches every day. We also get donated support and services from the local police department forensics lab”—Connor nodded to Detective Truban—“and a commercial chemical lab, LamberTek, where Lia is employed.” Lia smiled and bowed her head.
“As you know, the counselors and advisers—all of us—volunteer our time and efforts for this worthy community project. As advisers, Hill and Lia will not be on board all the time—just sort of serving on call. They’ll explain procedures when campers have field trips to the police lab and to LamberTek. They’ll also be available to come to the university lab if one of the counselors needs expert advice.”
Connor ran his fingers through his thick red hair. “Camp lasts five days,” he said, “and campers commute from their homes. Twenty campers are selected from teacher recommendations and students’ essays. We have created a crime, complete with clues and suspects, and—”
“Actually, it’s time for Nancy to tell us about the crime scene,” Professor Parris said, interrupting Connor. He smiled at Nancy “After all, she wrote the crime scenario with me.”
Connor slowly lowered himself back into his chair and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.
“There’s a summary of the camp crime on page one,” Nancy said, opening the notebook Professor had passed out. “We’ll lay out the crime scene in this room, and the campers will come in Monday to survey the scene. They will also receive a list of suspects.” She closed her notebook.
“Each of the four teams will get several universal clues and also a few clues that apply to that team’s specialty,” she told the group. “The counselors and advisers will help guide each team to a different scientific solution to the crime, depending on its clues.” She leaned back in her chair, indicating she was finished speaking.
“Very good,” the professor said. “Are there any questions at this point?”
The meeting continued for another hour. Everyone seemed eager to start the camp and was confident that everything would run smoothly. After the others had left, Nancy and the professor sat down for a quick recap of the camp clues.
“You and the counselors are setting the scene tomorrow, is that right?” Professor Parris asked as he brought Nancy a glass of soda from the mini-refrigerator in the corner of his study. She could smell the sharp aroma of his coffee as he poured a cup from the glass pot. He sweetened the coffee liberally with sugar, then joined her at the table.
“Yes, we’re all set.”
“Good. I think we’ll have the best camp ever this year. So many good people working on it.”
They looked over the diagram of the camp crime scene, noting where all the clues would be planted. Nancy noticed that the professor seemed a little tired, although it was only six-thirty in the evening.
“Professor Parris, are you okay?” she asked.
“Mmm,” the professor said, moving his head from side to side, as if to wake himself up. “I need another cup of coffee.” He walked slowly to the coffeepot, poured himself a second cup, and again stirred in a heaping spoonful of sugar.
When he took his seat again, he slurped a huge gulp. His eyes widened as he drank. Nancy figured that was partly because the coffe was so hot. She watched his face as he put down the cup. It drained of color as she watched.
Alarmed, she jumped up. “Professor, do you feel all right? That coffee’s boiling hot. Do you need a glass of water?”
“Yes, that might be a good idea,” he replied, his words slow and deliberate. I seem to feel a little lighthead—”
Before Nancy could move, Professor Parris lost consciousness and collapsed in his chair.
2
Is Nancy Next?
“Professor Parris,” Nancy cried. “Professor, what’s wrong?”
She rushed around the desk to the professor’s chair. He was slumped to the side, his chin resting on his chest. His eyelids fluttered and then closed.
Nancy took the professor’s wrist in her hand and checked his pulse. Then she double-checked it by pressing her fingers on the carotid artery, on the side of his neck. His heart was beating very slowly.
Quickly she dialed 911 and relayed the information to the dispatcher. An ambulance arrived in minutes.
“What happened?” asked the emergency medical technician. While the EMT talked to Nancy, her partner checked the professor’s vital signs of pulse and blood pressure rates. The EMTs worked very quickly and wasted no time.
“I don’t know,” Nancy said. “We were talking, and he drank some coffee with sugar. Then he began to slur his words, and he just lost consciousness.”
The EMTs fitted an oxygen mask over the professor’s nose and mouth. Then they strapped him to a gurney.
“I’m taking this with us,” the first EMT said, pouring a little coffee into a small glass jar and tightening the lid. “It might be some kind of food poisoning, and the doctors can check this out, just in case.”
“Where are you taking him?” Nancy asked as the EMTs wheeled the gurney to the ambulance. “I need to call his niece to tell her what happened.”
“To Westmoor Medical Center,” the EMT replied. Then she climbed into the back of the vehicle and slammed the door.
As the piercing siren trailed off, Nancy rushed back inside Professor Parris’s office and called Christy immediately.
“I’ll get right to the hospital,” Christy said. “Let’s hope it’s just the flu or something simple like that. Wait a minute! He told me once that he has trouble sometimes with hypoglycemia—low blood sugar. He said he even fainted from it once.”
“Maybe that’s what it was,” Nancy said. She could hear the worry in Christy’s voice and wished she knew what had happened so she could reassure the young woman.
“Have you told anyone else yet?” Christy asked.
“No,” Nancy said. “I’m going to call Detective Truban next. He needs to know that your uncle is ill. I’m sure the professor won’t be able to participate in the camp orientation tomorrow. After I talk to Detective Truban, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“Good idea,” Christy replied. “I’d appreciate it if you locked up the office. Uncle Charles told me he keeps a spare set of keys in the study next to his office. They’re in a box on the closet shelf. I’ll call you after I talk to the doctors.”
After she hung up, Nancy looked around the office for some clue to what had caused Professor Parris to fall ill. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, but she hoped she’d know it when she saw it.
Maybe she’d find some remnants of food the professor had eaten earlier that might have upset his stomach or a bottle of medicine that would indicate a health problem. A quick look around turned up no such clues.
Finally, she retrieved the extra set of keys from the box in the study’s closet and returned to Professor Parris’s office to contact Detective Truban.
The detective’s cheery nature bubbled through the phone when he answered Nancy’s call, but his voice took on a tone of concern when he heard the news. “I’ll get right to the hospital,” he said, and hung up immediately.
Nancy took one last look around the professor’s office, then locked up and left the building.
She drove straight to Westmoor Medical Center. At the hospital, Christy met her in the waiting room. She seemed frantic with worry.
“Oh, Nancy, it’s awful,” Christy told her. “Uncle Charles got really sick, and they pumped his stomach. Now it looks like he’s slipping into a coma, and they don’t know what’s causing it. It’s still possible it was low blood sugar. We should know more in a couple of hours.”
Christy took Nancy’s arm and gave her a concerned look. “They also think it might be some weird rare virus,” she said. “They even want you to have some tests, in case it might be contagious.”
Nancy felt a rush of anxiety but fought it down. “I’d be glad to,” she said.
“I can’t believe it,” Christy said. “The doctors say his condition is critical. I connected with my uncle for the first time a year ago, and now I may lose him.” Nancy heard the genuine distress in the young woman’s voice.
“What do you think we should do about the camp?” Christy asked.
Detective Truban, who walked in at that moment, answered Christy’s question. “I definitely think we should continue with all plans,” he said. “The camp means a lot to your uncle, and he wouldn’t want us to cancel at this point. It’s important that we don’t let those kids down.”
“I suppose you’re right, Hill,” Christy said. “After all, the camp starts the day after tomorrow. We hardly have time to cancel everything by then. Will you be the director, Nancy? Take over all the administration stuff? I absolutely do not have the time to do anything but be a counselor.”
“What about Connor?” Nancy asked. “He’s the assistant director. Shouldn’t he be the one to take the professor’s place?”
“He won’t have time either,” Christy said. “He’s Uncle Charles’s deputy on the research project and will have to take over there. If he has a chance to head up a major research study that gives him professional prestige, he’s probably not going to want to spend time on a local school camp.” Christy gave a helpless shrug.
