Carolyn Keene - Easy Marks

Nancy continued to sort through the papers. On a yellow legal pad she found names and Friedbinder’s notes to himself scrawled casually across the paper. “Sally Lane—$1,000,” read one line. Altogether, Nancy counted six more students’ names with numbers scribbled beside them. On the top of the pad he’d written a note to himself. “Kim Forster—eager to go to college. Needs scholarship. Can’t afford payment. Any use?”

“You found a use for her, didn’t you,” said Nancy, completely disgusted. She tore the sheet off the pad of paper and stuck it in her jacket pocket. Then she continued to search through the drawer. The next thing she found was a small notepad. Opening it, Nancy saw computer notes. Most of them were unintelligible to Nancy, but she recognized the dots, squiggles, asterisks, and letters as being computer commands. They were definitely in Friedbinder’s handwriting. Here was good proof that Friedbinder had a very sophisticated knowledge of computers!

Suddenly the sound of raised voices made Nancy jerk up her head. “Mr. Friedbinder!” Victor nearly shouted, warning Nancy. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same,” Nancy heard Friedbinder reply, his voice full of accusation. “As if I didn’t know.”

Shoving the notepad into her jacket pocket, Nancy moved quickly to the door but not quickly enough. She was momentarily blinded as Friedbinder entered his office and snapped on the light. He stopped short when he saw her. “And what are you doing here?” he growled.

“My job,” she said coolly.

Friedbinder seemed to relax. “And you’ve done a good job, too,” he said. “I see you’ve witnessed all three of them. I should have guessed they were all in it together.”

He was trying to pin the whole scam on Phyllis, Dana, and Victor, but Nancy already had the proof she needed. “Why are you here?” she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“Forgot some papers,” he said. “It was just a lucky coincidence I got here in time to see them trying to finish the job they started by setting today’s fire.”

“What job is that?” asked Nancy.

“Isn’t it obvious? Trying to destroy evidence of their little grade-changing racket. I guess they realized you were getting close.”

Friedbinder walked to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. “Harrison? Walter here. Listen, Nancy Drew and I have our grade-changer,” he said into the receiver. “Can you get down here? Good.”

At that moment Phyllis Hathaway appeared in the doorway, her face livid with anger. Apparently she’d overheard part of the conversation. “What are you up to now, you—you worm?” she cried.

“Nice try, Phyllis, but it won’t work,” said Friedbinder, glowering at the assistant headmaster. “I think you can kiss your career as an educator goodbye.”

“Is that so?” Phyllis replied. “Well, for your information that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’ve just given Dana the last payment making me half owner of PointTech Computers. I’m giving you my notice.”

That certainly explains a lot, thought Nancy—the money changing hands, the phone calls, the meetings.

“Why would the records being destroyed spoil your plan?” Nancy asked, recalling what she’d heard Phyllis say when they came in.

“Because I couldn’t resign with Brewster in the middle of a total computer breakdown. That would be pretty irresponsible. It would look as if I’d done it to make work for PointTech—which is not true,” Phyllis said emphatically. “A major computer problem would delay my leaving by months.”

“That’s almost convincing,” Friedbinder sneered. “You and your partners don’t fool me. First Dana saddled Brewster with an overelaborate and faulty computer system. That was bad enough. But now this grade-changing plan . . . Is your greed limitless?”

Nancy observed Friedbinder carefully. He was as tense as a tiger ready to spring. His icy blue eyes were fixed menacingly on Phyllis. He was hardly the controlled headmaster one would expect.

Dana and Victor walked into the room. “We haven’t done anything wrong,” Dana insisted. “I sold Brewster a fine computer at a fair price. Anyone in the business will say the same. And if you are implying that we are involved in some grade-changing—which I just overheard—you’re insane!”

“Then what are you doing here now, after school hours?” Friedbinder asked.

Phyllis stepped forward. “There was a message on my answering machine, saying that someone was going to sabotage the computer system this evening. I thought it was probably a crank call, but I couldn’t take the chance that it wasn’t on the level. I collected Dana, and we came right over.”

“Just in time to see the hard disk erase itself,” said Nancy. “Mr. Friedbinder, I think you have some explaining to do.”

“What!” he cried. “I—I—you’re in on this, too!” he sputtered.

“You know that’s a lie,” said Nancy, facing Friedbinder squarely.

Just then, a breathless Harrison Lane rushed into the office. “What on earth is happening here?” he asked.

“Ms. Drew seems to have lost her mind completely,” said Friedbinder. “Either that, or these three have induced her to join their sordid scheme.”

Turning to Nancy, Lane asked, “What is he saying?”

“He’s upset because I’ve accused him of being the phantom grade-changer,” Nancy told him, her eyes still on the headmaster. “Which he is.”

“What!” cried Harrison Lane.

“You can’t prove anything,” Friedbinder said at the same time. “Those records are completely lost. Erased.”

“No, not really,” said Dana. “At the end of each workday, the contents of the computer’s hard disk are automatically copied into a high-capacity tape cartridge. That way, no matter what happens, you can’t lose more than one day’s work. I’m surprised at you, Walter. Obviously you didn’t finish reading the user’s manual I provided.”

“Would those include a record of when and from where the command to erase the hard disk was entered?” Nancy asked.

Dana smiled. “Yes, they would.”

“I bet I can access those files right now,” said Victor, leaving the room.

“I find this hard to believe,” Lane put in. “Why would a man in Walter’s position do such a thing?”

“Greed,” Nancy suggested.

“I’ll sue you!” Friedbinder shouted. “You’d better watch your step, Ms. Drew!”

Victor returned to the office. “I won’t be able to get those records tonight. It’ll take too long.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to get,” said Friedbinder. “You have nothing on me.”

“I wouldn’t call these nothing,” said Nancy, pulling the yellow sheet of paper, the newspaper clipping, and the pad of computer notes from her pocket. “ ‘Sally Lane, one thousand dollars . . .’ ”

All the color drained from Walter Friedbinder’s face as Nancy read the list of students and the amounts he’d gotten from each of them. “Where did you get that?” he sputtered, his face purple. Without waiting for an answer, he lunged toward Nancy.

Nancy was ready for him, but before he reached her, Victor butted his shoulder into the headmaster’s chest. Friedbinder went flying backward and landed on the floor.

Harrison Lane examined Nancy’s evidence. “I don’t think we’ll be needing computer records,” he said. “You’ll be hearing from the board’s lawyer in the morning.”

“This is an outrage!” cried Friedbinder, climbing to his feet.

“No. Fraud, arson, extortion—those are outrages,” replied Lane.

Friedbinder flashed a furious gaze at Nancy. “I was on easy street,” he said, puffing his chest out arrogantly. “I had those kids so scared I knew they’d never tell anyone what was going on. And who would they blab to, anyway? Me, that’s who.” He let out a short, disdainful laugh. “Everything was going great—until you came along.”