Power of Suggestion Page 2

  “Psych class wasn’t fun?” Bess guessed.

  Ned shrugged again. “I guess not. But this study group he’s in seems to be helping.”

  “So what do they do in the group?” Nancy asked, kicking at a clump of snow with her boot.

  “I’m not too sure,” he replied. “I do know that Professor Edberg has the students listen to subliminal tapes that are supposed to teach them how to study more efficiently.”

  “Subliminal tapes?” Bess crinkled up her nose. “What are those?”

  “I’m not real clear on that,” Ned told her. “The way I understand it, they’re tapes that have a hidden message underneath the music. You listen to the music and your subconscious mind hears the message.”

  Bess shot Ned a doubtful glance. “And that works?”

  “Beats me,” he said, laughing. “You’ll have to ask Parker about it. There’s the psych building up ahead.”

  He pointed to an ivy-covered stone building a dozen yards in front of them. There were only a few lights on inside, Nancy noticed as they approached. It looked peaceful and inviting.

  They had just reached the steps when the air was shattered by a muffled report. Nancy, Ned, and Bess froze in their tracks.

  “Was that a gunshot?” Bess asked, her voice a whisper.

  Nancy’s heart started pounding. “Definitely,” she said. “I think it came from inside the psych building!”

  She was halfway up the steps when the front door of the psych building flew open, and Parker Wright stumbled out. He tripped as he hit the steps and fell to his hands and knees.

  “Parker!” Bess exclaimed, vaulting past Nancy. Nancy and Ned were right behind her. As they helped him to his feet, Nancy realized he was wearing only his jeans and sweater and he was shivering. Peering into his eyes, she saw nothing but a dazed look.

  “Parker, what happened?” Nancy asked urgently. “Did you hear that gunshot?”

  Parker stared at her blankly. When she repeated the question, he blinked, then shook his head, as if he were trying to gather his wits. “I—I don’t know . . . the music stopped . . . he fell down . . .” he finally stammered.

  “Who fell, Parker? Was it Wayne?” Nancy asked.

  “The song . . . the song is the same . . . always the same,” Parker babbled.

  Nancy turned to Bess and Ned, who were supporting Parker, their arms around his shoulders. “He’s not making any sense,” Nancy said. “I can’t stop thinking about that gunshot. We’ve got to find out what’s going on!”

  “I’ll take Parker into the lobby so he can warm up,” Bess offered. “But you guys, be careful!”

  As Bess slowly led Parker back up the stairs and into the building, Ned and Nancy raced inside. “I’m pretty familiar with the building,” Ned told her. “Edberg’s lab is this way.”

  He led Nancy down a deserted hallway, up a flight of stairs, and around a corner. Nancy’s eyes searched every inch they passed, but she didn’t see anyone else or spot anything that looked suspicious.

  “In here!” Ned said, stopping at a doorway at the end of the second-floor hallway. The door was ajar, and he pushed it open with his gloved hand.

  Nancy burst into the room right behind him and took in the scene.

  It was a small room, not much bigger than a faculty office. The first thing Nancy noticed was a mirror that covered almost an entire wall of the room. There was a door beside it. A comfortable reclining chair sat in the middle of the room, facing the mirror.

  “Ned, look!” Nancy gasped, pointing.

  There, partially hidden by the recliner, a crumpled form lay in a pool of blood on the carpet. Ned’s face went white as he knelt beside the form.

  “Is it—” Nancy began.

  “Yeah, it’s Wayne,” Ned responded, panic creeping into his voice. “He’s been shot!”

  Chapter

  Three

  NANCY COULD hardly breathe as she bent down beside Wayne. Pulling off one glove, she felt his neck for a pulse. There was none.

  “He’s dead,” she said, trying to ignore the sick feeling that welled up inside her.

  “But who . . . ? How . . . ?” Ned’s voice trailed off as he stared down at Wayne’s body.

  “That’s what we’ll have to find out,” Nancy said grimly. She was already sorting through the situation in her mind, and she didn’t like what she was coming up with. If Parker had been alone in the room with Wayne, then he was sure to be the prime suspect in the killing.

  “Hey, there’s a gun!” Ned’s voice broke into her thoughts. Looking to where he was pointing, Nancy saw a revolver lying on the carpet at the foot of the recliner.

  “Don’t touch it!” she advised him. “In fact, don’t touch anything. We don’t want to disturb any evidence. Is there a phone around? We should call the police and an ambulance right away.”

  Ned nodded. “There’s a phone booth down the hall.”

  After he left the room, Nancy turned back to examine the scene of the crime. The small, windowless room wasn’t like any laboratory or classroom she’d seen before. It was softly lit by track lights along the ceiling and was painted a comforting shade of pale blue. The plush carpeting was a slightly deeper shade of blue, marred now by the dark stain where Wayne’s body lay.

  Against one wall was a solid oak library table with several cushioned, armless chairs. The study group probably worked around the table, Nancy guessed. Parker’s leather bomber jacket hung over the back of one of the chairs. The centerpiece of the room was the luxurious recliner Nancy had noticed when she first entered. A set of stereo headphones was hooked over the back of the chair. Set against a side wall was what looked like a control panel, with an assortment of lights and switches.

  Nancy walked over to the recliner and held her ear next to the headphones, but there was no sound coming from them. If something had been playing before the shot was fired, it had been turned off.

  Next, she went over to the door next to the mirrored wall. It was slightly ajar, so she pushed it open and stepped in.

  She found herself in a very small room that was less than seven feet deep. From here she saw that the mirror was really two-way glass, allowing an observer to watch the person sitting in the recliner while remaining unseen himself. There was a console against the mirrored wall, with two desk chairs. Built into the console were a computer terminal, a pair of cassette decks, and a microphone. Several file cabinets stood against the back wall.

  Nancy couldn’t help wondering what all this equipment was for. And what, if anything, did it have to do with Wayne Perkins’s murder?

  Hearing the approach of sirens, she quickly returned to the room with the reclining chair and made certain her brief examination had disturbed nothing. Soon after, Ned came back, accompanied by a woman in an Emerson campus security uniform and a trim, balding man who looked to be in his early thirties.

  “An ambulance is on the way,” Ned said, hurrying over to Nancy and squeezing her hand. The two of them watched while the security officer and the other man knelt beside the body. The balding man felt Wayne Perkins’s wrist and neck, then looked soberly up at Nancy and Ned.

  “He’s dead, all right,” he confirmed. He rose and shook Nancy’s hand. “I’m Dr. Paul Cohen, from the campus infirmary,” he said. He indicated the security officer. “Gina here spotted me walking across campus on my way home and asked me to come along. Are you all right?” he asked, looking into Nancy’s eyes. “Finding a dead body can be very disturbing.”

  “I’m fine,” Nancy assured him. “I’ve seen this sort of thing before.”

  Dr. Cohen looked at her with curiosity. “You have?”

  “I’m a detective,” she explained. “But our friend Parker seemed really dazed. Maybe you could take a look at him.”

  She and Ned led the doctor out of the lab. The security officer, who was speaking into a walkie-talkie, turned to them. “You kids stay close by,” she said. “I’m going to need statements from you.”

  When Nancy,
Ned, and Dr. Cohen got to the entrance hall of the building, Parker and Bess were leaning against a wall. Parker still seemed dazed, but Bess was holding his hand reassuringly. Her parka was draped over his shoulders.

  Nancy and Ned drew Bess aside while Dr. Cohen approached Parker. In an undertone, they told Bess about finding Wayne Perkins’s body.

  “Oh, no!” she gasped. “Poor Parker! No wonder he’s so upset—he must have seen something!”

  Nancy wasn’t sure if that was the real reason for Parker’s confusion. She turned her attention back to Dr. Cohen, who was bending close to Parker.

  “Hello, Parker, I’m Dr. Cohen,” he said in a calm, reassuring voice. “Do you remember what happened?”

  Nancy could see that Parker’s pupils were dilated and his gaze unfocused. He looked past the doctor and shook his head in confusion.

  Dr. Cohen felt Parker’s pulse and looked into his eyes. Then he turned to Nancy, Ned, and Bess.

  “Your friend seems to be suffering from a mild case of shock,” he told them. “Keep him warm and sitting here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Glancing through the heavy wood and glass doors, Nancy saw that another campus security car and two Emersonville police cars had just pulled up, their lights flashing. An ambulance was right behind them. A small crowd was beginning to gather outside, and one of the campus security guards moved to keep the onlookers from entering the building.

  As Dr. Cohen went outside, hurrying over to the ambulance, three uniformed police officers burst into the building, accompanied by a rumpled middle-aged man in a trenchcoat who was chewing on the remnants of a foul-smelling cigar. With them was one of the biggest men Nancy had ever seen. He wore a campus security uniform with gold braid on the cap and shoulder.

  “That’s Captain Marcus Backman, the new head of campus security,” Ned whispered to Nancy as the group hurried past, toward the stairway. “He was the greatest linebacker Emerson ever had!”

  The group of officers was followed by a medic team from the ambulance. They also hustled past Nancy and her friends, accompanied by Dr. Cohen. As Parker watched the parade of officials race past, he started looking more and more confused.

  “Wh-what’s going on?” he finally asked.

  Nancy exchanged an uncomfortable look with Ned and Bess. Could he really not know what had happened? Nancy wasn’t sure what to tell him. If he was already in shock, telling him about Wayne Perkins’s death probably wouldn’t help his condition.

  Nancy looked up as Dr. Cohen returned. Captain Backman and the man in the trenchcoat were with him.

  “I’m Lieutenant Easterling, homicide, Emersonville PD,” the man in the trenchcoat said, speaking around his cigar stub. He focused on Nancy and Ned. “Dr. Cohen tells me you two found the body.”

  “Body?” Parker repeated, suddenly looking scared. “Wh-what body? Is s-someone dead?”

  Captain Backman put a hand on Parker’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said in a deep voice. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Turning back to Nancy and Ned, Lieutenant Easterling repeated, “Now, you two found the body.” When they nodded, he asked, “You’re both students here?”

  “I am—I’m Ned Nickerson. This is my girlfriend, Nancy Drew. And this is Bess Marvin. They’re visiting for the weekend.”

  Captain Backman turned to Nancy, a surprised expression on his face. “You’re Nancy Drew?” he asked.

  “So, who’s Nancy Drew? Someone special?” Easterling asked, chomping on his cigar.

  “Miss Drew is a very talented amateur detective.” Backman turned back to Nancy. “I reviewed the security department records when I took this job. You’ve been a great help to the college in the past.”

  Easterling gave a dismissive wave in Nancy’s direction. “Give me a break,” he scoffed. “A teenage detective?”

  Nancy felt a surge of anger at the man’s attitude. She opened her mouth, but Easterling held up his hand.

  “Later,” he said. “Right now I want to get the details straight. What were you kids doing here?”

  Parker had gradually been coming out of his daze, and now he was lucid enough to respond, “They were here to meet me.”

  “And you are . . . ?” Lieutenant Easterling asked.

  “Parker Wright. I’m a student here.”

  The lieutenant fixed Parker with a stony gaze as he said, “All right. So where were you when the shooting happened?”

  “I—I was in the lab, I guess,” Parker replied. Nancy noticed that the same look of confusion had come over him, as if he wasn’t quite sure.

  “What do you mean, you guess?” Easterling demanded. “You were there or you weren’t! Did you see anything? Who shot this guy—what’s his name?” He turned expectantly to Captain Backman.

  “Wayne Perkins,” the captain supplied.

  “That’s right—Wayne. So who shot him? Did you do it?”

  The bluntness of the question shocked Nancy. If this was the way Easterling conducted an investigation, then she was unimpressed.

  “No—of course I didn’t kill him,” Parker protested, flustered. “At least, I—I don’t think I did.”

  Easterling let out a sigh. “I can see this is going to be a long night,” he said. “I want the four of you to come downtown to the station with me. We’re going to need to ask you a few questions.”

  • • •

  “Why is this taking so long?” Bess asked.

  It was after eleven, and she, Ned, and Nancy had all been questioned extensively by the police at the Emersonville police station. Now they were sitting on a wooden bench in the front room of the station, waiting for Parker. Despite the late hour, several officers were busy at desks in the open room.

  “They’ve been questioning Parker for more than three hours now,” Ned said, resting his elbows on the knees of his corduroys. “I hope they’re not being too hard on him.”

  Nancy wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t blame the officers for questioning Parker so thoroughly. She didn’t want to believe that Parker Wright was capable of murder, but the evidence seemed to point to him.

  The three teenagers looked up as Parker emerged from a hallway to the side of the station’s front room, accompanied by Lieutenant Easterling and a uniformed police officer. Nancy’s heart went out to Parker when she saw his confused, dejected expression.

  “Can we all go now?” Bess asked Easterling as he, Parker, and the police officer approached.

  Easterling hesitated before answering. “You three are free to go, but your friend Parker is going to stay here with us for a while.”

  “What do you mean?” Ned demanded, getting to his feet. “What’s the problem?”

  “Look,” said Easterling. “Parker’s fingerprints were all over the gun. He had motive, and he had opportunity.”

  Nancy gripped the edge of the bench. She had a feeling she knew what the lieutenant was going to say next, and it wasn’t good news.

  “I don’t like to have to tell you this,” Easterling went on, “but I’ve arrested Parker Wright for the murder of Wayne Perkins.”

  Chapter

  Four

  BUT THAT’S impossible!” Bess protested. She looked at Parker, then burst into tears.

  Nancy didn’t even know she’d been holding her breath until she suddenly let it out in a rush. As she wrapped a comforting arm around Bess’s shoulders, her eyes strayed to Parker. He stared down at his feet, but Nancy saw the hot red color that had risen to his cheeks.

  Ned took a step toward the policeman. “You’ve got the wrong suspect,” he said heatedly.

  “That’s for a court to decide,” Easterling told him.

  “Can we at least have a few minutes to speak to Parker?” Ned pressed.

  The lieutenant’s gaze went from Ned to Nancy to Bess. “Yeah, but make it short,” he finally said.

  Ned put his arm around his friend’s shoulders and led him to the bench where Nancy and Bess were sitting. “How are you d
oing, buddy?” Ned asked.

  Parker no longer was the same happy-go-lucky guy Nancy and Bess had met just that afternoon. His face looked haggard, and his gaze darted around nervously.

  “I—I guess I’m okay,” Parker finally answered. “They let me make some calls. I tried to reach my parents, but they’re out of town—out of the country, actually. They’re in South America, rafting down the Amazon or something like that. I was home just last weekend, but I totally forgot about the trip until our housekeeper reminded me.”

  “There’s no way to reach them?” Nancy asked, studying Parker. He still didn’t seem quite right to her. She had seen many crime suspects, and usually they had strong reactions to being accused. But Parker seemed only depressed and puzzled.

  Parker shook his head in answer to her question. “Not right away. The housekeeper promised to keep trying. Maybe it’s better this way. How can I ask them to bail me out? I feel so ashamed.”

  “But you haven’t done anything,” Bess put in emphatically. “This is all a huge misunderstanding!”

  “That’s right,” Ned agreed. “Besides, bail isn’t something you need to worry about. You’re an Omega Chi brother now.”

  Parker raised a questioning brow. “How’s that going to help me?”

  “Hey, maybe bail wasn’t on anyone’s mind when the Omega Chi emergency fund was started, but I’m sure the brothers will agree that this is a real emergency.”

  Easterling had been waiting impatiently a few feet away. Now he came over and said, “Sorry, kids. Time’s up.”

  “Lieutenant, can’t we bail Parker out tonight?” Ned asked.

  The lieutenant shook his head. “You’ll have to wait until the arraignment tomorrow morning. I’m afraid Parker’s a guest in our motel tonight.”

  Parker borrowed a pen and a piece of paper from Lieutenant Easterling and wrote down a name, then handed the paper to Ned. “This is my father’s attorney. I wasn’t able to reach him, either. I left a message on his answering machine, but I’d appreciate it if you’d call him, too.”