The Cheating Heart
The swimmer stared at her belligerently.
“Professor Tavakolian tells me you did quite well on the placement test,” Nancy continued. Steve’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing. “I just wanted to ask you how you studied for the test, and what your high school English teachers taught you to prepare for it,” Nancy pressed on, improvising her story.
Steve snorted. “My high school teachers did nothing to prepare me for it. They were jerks—I taught myself everything.”
“That test covered a lot of material,” Nancy said guardedly. “How did you know what to study?”
“I read a lot, okay?” Steve replied, snapping his towel. “Just because I’m a jock, you think I can’t read? Hey, what is this really about?”
Nancy decided to risk showing her cards. “There was a question about whether a copy of the test answers leaked out,” she began.
“Oh,” Steve interrupted, beside himself with fury. “And you jumped to the conclusion that I cheated?” His eyes flashed with a nasty gleam, the veins in his forehead protruding. “Well, I’m sick and tired of being sold short. Let me tell you, Nancy Drew, you’ll be sorry if you don’t get off my back!”
Chapter
Four
NANCY DREW BACK in surprise, but she quickly regained control of the situation. “I’m interviewing several students about the test,” she told Steve calmly. “Perhaps you saw somebody else in the room cheating?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell,” he snarled. Wheeling around, he dove into the pool, splashing water on Nancy. With a resigned shrug, Nancy left the sports complex, her T-shirt damp but not worth changing.
Glancing at her watch, Nancy saw it was almost time for her next two interviews. She headed for Ivy Hall.
Professor Tavakolian was at his desk in his office, surrounded by stacks of test papers. He suggested that Nancy use a study lounge down the hall to interview the students. Nancy waited outside his office until Carrie Yu arrived, exactly on time. Carrie was a short, stocky girl with blunt-cut black hair and gold-rimmed glasses. Nancy greeted her and led her to the lounge, a small windowless room with a few scruffy armchairs and low tables.
“The professor says you did quite well on the test Wednesday,” Nancy said as they sat down.
Carrie’s face lit up. “Really? Good enough to be allowed to skip the course?”
Nancy tried to be noncommittal. “I think so, but the professor will let you know for sure.”
“I hope so,” Carrie said. “I’m a pre-med student, you see, and I could use the extra class time for a science course.”
“You shouldn’t have trouble getting into med school if your grades are good,” Nancy noted.
“They’re pretty good,” Carrie said. “At least in math and science. English and history aren’t my best subjects. . . .” She stopped, as if she wished she hadn’t admitted her weak points.
“Unfortunately, there’s a chance that some people may have cheated on the test,” Nancy said, closely watching Carrie’s reaction to this news.
Carrie’s face remained blank. “Really?”
“The professor may have to throw out these scores and retest you all,” Nancy added.
Carrie pursed her mouth stubbornly. “That’s a drag. I just hope I do as well next time.”
Nancy realized she wouldn’t get anything more out of Carrie Yu. After a few more routine questions, she finished the interview and walked out to meet Gary Carlsen.
Gary was a skinny, nerdy guy with close-cropped black curls, thick glasses, and medium-brown skin. As he sat in the lounge with Nancy, he answered her questions with a cynical smirk.
“That test was a pushover,” he scoffed. “The Chaucer quotations were translated into modern English, when everybody knows Chaucer wrote in the Middle English dialect. And there wasn’t a single question about metaphysical poetry.”
“English is a favorite subject of yours, I see,” Nancy prodded.
“Oh, not just English—I also read German, French, Russian, and Spanish literature. And I plan to take classical Greek here at Emerson. But physics and astronomy are my real loves. Those and ancient history.”
“And Sumerian archaeology?” Nancy threw in.
“Oh, do you study Sumerian archaeology?” Gary asked eagerly.
“No,” Nancy admitted wryly. “Did you happen to see anyone cheating on the placement test?”
Gary gave a short, scornful laugh. “I didn’t pay much attention to the other students. I finished the test early and went back to my dorm.”
After Gary left, Nancy sat for a while thinking. Having copies of her suspects’ high school records to tell which students were brains and which ones weren’t would help.
Nancy decided to go down the hall to the English department office, three doors away from Professor Tavakolian’s office. The only person there was Ms. Belzer, the motherly-looking secretary, sitting at her computer at a large desk just inside the doorway. “Oh, yes, Nancy Drew,” she said with a smile when Nancy introduced herself. “Mr. Tavakolian told me you’d be using the lounge.”
“May I use your phone for a minute?” Nancy asked. Ms. Belzer nodded and turned the phone toward her. Nancy made a call to Dean Jarvis, who promised to arrange for her to get access to student records in the admissions office.
Then Nancy asked Ms. Belzer to show her around the English department office. The secretary pointed out the faculty members’ cubbyholes for mail and a large bulletin board with several sign-up lists and notices on it. The department’s laser printer sat on a table near the windows, behind a bank of file cabinets. Through an archway was a small side room, where the photocopier was.
“Do you remember Monday afternoon, when Ned Nickerson was photocopying Professor Tavakolian’s literature test?” Nancy asked the secretary. “He used your computer to print something out.”
Ms. Belzer knit her eyebrows. “Gee, Monday was a real zoo around here, with all the freshmen coming in. I just don’t remember. People are always borrowing my computer, because it’s hooked up to the laser printer. Have you seen how fast that gizmo can print out a document? It’s awesome, as the kids would say.”
Just then, Professor Tavakolian walked in. “Ms. Drew, I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’ve graded the rest of the tests. Speedy grading—that’s the main virtue of multiple-choice tests, isn’t it, Ms. Belzer?”
“Whatever you say, Mr. T,” said the secretary cheerfully. Nancy could sense her affection for the professor.
“I have three more students who made perfect scores,” he announced. “Usually there are only one or two perfect scores. Now we have a total of six—highly suspicious, I’d say.”
He handed Nancy a slip of paper with three more names written on it: Tom Mallin, Annie Mercer, and Linda Corrente. Ms. Belzer handed Nancy a copy of the new campus directory, and she began phoning the students.
Answering Nancy’s call, Annie Mercer said she was just going out the door. “I don’t know if I’ll have time to meet with you today,” she said breathlessly. “There’s so much going on. I’m signed up for a tour of the library at one-thirty, and at three I have tryouts for field hockey, and then I’m going to the bookstore—”
“We could do it sometime over the weekend,” Nancy offered. “I’ll be around.”
“Oh, but I’ll be busy then, too,” Annie hurried on. “My roommate and I are going to the crafts fair to buy stuff for our dorm room, and there’s the concert Saturday night.”
“How about if I meet you at your dorm room, Saturday at twelve-thirty?” Nancy offered.
“Y-yes,” Annie said reluctantly.
“See you at twelve-thirty.” Nancy hung up.
The other two students agreed to meet Nancy at the professor’s office that afternoon—Linda Corrente at three o’clock, Tom Mallin at four.
Before meeting Ned for lunch, Nancy had just enough time to go to the admissions office one floor below Dean Jarvis’s office. The admissions director, Ms. Karsten
, called Dean Jarvis to get clearance for Nancy to look in the admissions files, much of which was confidential information. Once she got his approval, Ms. Karsten showed Nancy an enormous metal file cabinet, where copies of each freshman’s application materials—SAT scores, high school grades, application forms, and teacher recommendations—were kept in thick green file folders. Nancy pored over her suspects’ files intently. Three of her suspects looked like shoo-ins for perfect scores: Gary Carlsen and Annie Mercer were both straight A students, and Linda Corrente, a gifted poet, did well in English.
The other three didn’t have stellar records in English. Carrie Yu had A’s in math and science, but C’s in history and English. Tom Mallin’s English grades were mostly B’s, and Steve Groff’s were C’s and D’s, though his high SAT verbal score suggested some untapped ability.
Nancy was still mulling over this information as she rushed into the student center five minutes late. “Sorry—I got held up,” she apologized to Ned, dropping a kiss on his cheek.
Ned rolled his eyes. “Nan, you’re still in your running clothes from this morning!”
“I know.” She grimaced, glancing down at her white T and blue running tights. “I’ll shower and change after we eat, but I’m starving—let’s get in line.”
Ned followed her, groaning. “Nan, I was looking forward to having the weekend with you. Are you going to spend the whole time on this case?”
“I hope not,” she said. “But, Ned—I’m just trying to clear your name.” She smoothed the sleeve of his light blue cotton shirt, hoping he’d understand.
“I know, I know.” He waved his hand. “Did you find out anything interesting?”
Nancy hesitated, peeking back over her shoulder. “I can’t say yet—most of what I learned today is confidential.”
Ned acted hurt. “You mean I can’t even help you with the case?”
Nancy bit her lip. “There’s one thing you could do—call the Emersonian and find out who placed that personal ad to Paul DiToma.”
Ned was obviously perplexed. “Okay—but what does that have to do with the missing test answers?”
“Nothing, probably—I’m just curious,” said Nancy. She picked up a tray and peered into the glass food case. “Oh, good, tuna salad plate!”
After lunch Nancy ran back to the Theta Pi house, showered, and changed into fresh clothes—black jeans and a mint green cotton sweater. As she walked back to Ivy Hall, she went over her list of six suspects—especially Carrie Yu, Steve Groff, and Tom Mallin, whose perfect scores on the test were suspicious.
Linda Corrente was waiting for Nancy on a chair outside Professor Tavakolian’s office. She had long chestnut brown hair, slanted gray-blue eyes, and a smoky soft voice.
As soon as she and Nancy were seated in the lounge, Nancy told her about the stolen test answers. Linda acted shocked, but she was only mildly concerned when Nancy said she might have to take a new test. “If I did well before,” she murmured, “I’ll probably do well again. Anyway, I don’t care whether I get exempted from the course. I love taking literature classes.” Nancy nodded, mentally striking Linda off her list.
Since her interview with Linda was over so quickly, Nancy waited in the hall for Tom Mallin. When he finally came, he was walking hesitantly. He had a round, fair-skinned face and china blue eyes. Nancy introduced herself and led him to the lounge. She noticed that he darted nervous glances around as he perched on the edge of an orange armchair.
Nancy told him about the stolen test answers and the possible new test. “Another test? What if I don’t pass it next time?” Tom asked anxiously. “I studied so hard for it the first time. I might have forgotten everything by the time I take it again.”
“Why is it so important to you?” Nancy asked.
Tom dropped his gaze. “Well, you see—I’m on financial aid. I’m afraid my money may run out before I can get my degree. Any extra credit I can pick up will help.”
Nancy felt sorry for him, but she steeled herself. The question for her was, did passing the test mean so much to Tom that he’d cheat? She asked him several questions about his whereabouts on Monday afternoon and on Wednesday morning, and made notes to check his alibis.
Exhausted from her sessions in the stuffy little lounge, Nancy tried to clear her head as she strolled to the campus bookstore. Ned was waiting outside, sitting on a stone wall with a tall stack of books beside him. Nancy kissed him lightly. “Mmmm,” Ned murmured warmly. “So—any new developments?”
Nancy shook her head as she sat down next to him. “I’m no nearer solving the mystery than before. I have too many suspects, and there’s not a scrap of physical evidence yet.”
“It’ll happen,” Ned said, reaching out to massage her shoulder reassuringly.
Nancy rolled her head, enjoying his strong touch. “Did you go to the Emersonian office?”
“Yeah—what a waste of time,” Ned said. “The guy who runs the personals column doesn’t keep records of who placed which ads. I told Paul—I ran into him in the bookstore. He was surprised that I was checking on the ad.”
“You didn’t tell him that I’m a detective, did you?” Nancy asked with some concern.
“No, I know you like to keep a low profile,” Ned said, winding up her shoulder massage with a friendly squeeze. “Anyway, I asked him to go with us to the movie tonight. Maybe you could invite Brook, too.”
“Doing a little matchmaking, Nickerson?” Nancy teased.
“Maybe,” he answered, smiling.
“Fine with me,” Nancy said. “So did you get all your books?”
“At last,” Ned said. “I spent three hours in that place! The lines were humongous. But I saw lots of people I hadn’t seen in ages, and I had a couple of good conversations, catching up on news.”
Nancy reached over and picked up a thick textbook from the pile. “Principles of Geology?”
“It’s supposed to be an easy course—nicknamed ‘Rocks for Jocks.’ ” Ned grinned. “I need one easy course.”
“Could I look?” Nancy asked curiously. She opened the book cover and a sheet of paper fell out Her eyes grew wide.
Across the top of the page were printed the words Freshman Literature Placement Test—Answer Key.
Chapter
Five
NANCY FELT HER stomach sink. The missing answer sheet—in Ned’s possession!
“What’s that?” Ned asked innocently.
Without a word, Nancy showed him the sheet of paper. She watched Ned’s face go white.
“But . . . but . . .” Ned spluttered. He swallowed and began again. “I never saw this paper. I just bought the book ten minutes ago.”
Nancy looked at him with a troubled gaze. “How could it have gotten into this book?”
“I took the book off the shelf about an hour ago, just after I finished talking to Paul,” Ned recalled. “But I spent some time looking for other books I needed. I did set down my pile a couple of times while I was talking.”
Nancy nodded. “So someone could have slipped it into your book. But why would anyone do that?”
Ned looked anxious. “Someone must be trying to frame me.”
“Yes, but who—and why?” Nancy pointed out. “I know you’re innocent, Ned, but I have to tell Dean Jarvis and the professor about finding this. It’ll put you under stronger suspicion, I know, but I can’t suppress evidence.”
Ned agreed, reluctantly, and walked Nancy to the Theta Pi house. Nancy called the dean to tell him about the answer sheet Ned had found. Jarvis asked to meet her and Ned at his office the next morning, along with the professor.
• • •
“Hey, earth to Nickerson!” Brook teased Ned that evening. Ned, Nancy, Paul, and Brook were sitting in the auditorium in the student center, waiting for the movie to start.
Ned, who had been staring absently at the blank movie screen, shook his head. “Sorry, Brook,” he said. “What were you saying?”
“She was mocking the fine cuisine we had
tonight at the Omega Chi house.” Paul said with a grin.
“Come on, Paul, you have to admit the fried chicken was a little greasy,” Brook teased back.
Nancy smiled, but she was acutely aware that Ned, sitting to her left, hadn’t been himself all evening. She reached over and took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“So what are we seeing tonight?” Paul asked.
Brook had picked up a page of notes distributed by the Emerson Film Society. “It’s a sixties detective movie called Marlowe,” she said, reading the sheet. Paul leaned over to read it, too. Nancy saw he was using this as an excuse to lean against Brook’s shoulder.
Feeling a tug on her hand, she turned to exchange a smile with Ned. He had noticed the attraction between Paul and Brook, too.
Nancy leaned against Ned’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
Ned heaved a small sigh. “I’m not anticipating seeing the dean tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Ned. We’ll find out who’s framing you,” Nancy said confidently, when she actually didn’t feel so sure. She hadn’t made any headway on the case yet—and she had no idea what move to make next.
• • •
The next morning at ten o’clock Ned and Nancy met the dean and the professor at the dean’s office. Dean Jarvis was a different man in his weekend clothes, a knit sport shirt and Bermuda shorts. Professor Tavakolian wore his usual tweed jacket, but this time over a black polo shirt.
Nancy described how she and Ned had found the paper in Ned’s book. Dean Jarvis frowned as he listened. “What do you have to say for yourself, Ned?” the dean asked when she had finished.
Ned spread open his palms. “I’m mystified. I swear I don’t know how the sheet got in there.”
Nancy cleared her throat. “We haven’t established that the paper I found is the missing answer sheet,” she pointed out.
“Well, I happen to have made a new copy of the answer key,” Tavakolian replied, pointing to his well-worn black leather briefcase. He rooted around for a minute and pulled out the test, handing the top page to Nancy.