032 High Marks for Malice by Carolyn Keene

receptionist directed her to the back of the stacks.
    The most recent directory had been published two years earlier. Nancy opened it to the Bs. No Andrew Bladinsburg. A check of earlier directories, published every two years, revealed no Bladinsburg, either. Why had this man been left out?
    Nancy pulled all the yearbooks from 1970 to 1980. He wasn’t in any of them. Frustrated, she put them back on the shelves. Oh, well. Ned was checking the public library for information. Maybe he’d have more luck.
    She decided to check out Doc since she was there. The yearbooks featured sections on the faculty and underclassmen, as well as graduates. Retrieving the one for the previous year, she flipped through it.
    She saw several pictures of Line, most taken in classroom settings, a few in the computer lab. Maria Arnold’s wide eyes stared back at Nancy from a couple of them. Then she turned to the faculty section of the Department of Computer Sciences. “Here he is,” Nancy said, under her breath. “Paul R. Evans, Ph.D. Doc.”
    Nancy examined the picture with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and sadness. A boyish face,with skin the color of honey; dark eyes, sparkling with humor, his lips stretched in an amused smile.
    Doc had graduated from Basson in 1970 and had returned to teach three years later with his Ph.D. He looked like such a nice—
    Nancy heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw the tall, silver-haired man from the hospital. Nancy’s mind whirled as she tried to remember his name. The college registrar. Chaplin? No, Chapin.
    “Good morning, Dr. Chapin,” she said.
    “Mister,” he said with a smile. “Good morning. Looking into Basson, are you? It’s an excellent university, one of the best in the nation.”
    “So I understand. A friend of a friend graduated last year,” Nancy said, feeling that she should provide a cover for her activities. “I was trying to find her picture.”
    “What was her name?”
    “That’s the problem. I don’t remember. I only met her once, but I’d recognize her face if I saw it.” Casually, she turned the page, then another. Doc’s image was gone. “She was really sold on Basson, I remember that. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to visit.”
    “I would recommend it highly, and not just because I’m the registrar. We have a wide choice of academic majors, state-of-the-art equipment, and a faculty composed of the finest minds in thecountry.” Abruptly he changed the subject. “I hear young Sheffield’s hanging on. I am very relieved, especially since we haven’t been able to reach his father. Are you and he good friends?”
    “I’d never met him,” Nancy said. “Still haven’t, to tell the truth. Just happened to be passing the carillon and heard him moan.”
    Chapin nodded gravely. “A very lucky young man. And a foolish one, too. But they will try to climb the tower, no matter what we say.” He lifted his right arm and glanced at his watch. “I must go. Nice seeing you again.”
    “Thank you.”
    “If you have any questions about the school, come by my office. I’m always available for young people interested in my university.”
    “Thank you. That’s good to know. Goodbye.” Nancy watched him leave, wondering if he was always so stiff. Perhaps being a registrar was a stressful position.
    It was Nancy’s turn to check her watch. Except for a mild headache, she felt almost normal. There was just enough time to find a restroom and splash some water on her face. Then she had to report for work.
    • • •
    “Work, huh?” Nancy said to herself after she’d been on duty an hour. “This is almost fun.”
    That is, after she’d proved to Mr. Pickering that she could handle the equipment. Dressed ina sweatshirt, shorts, and running shoes, he had made the rounds of all the weight machines with her, becoming more cheerful as they moved from one to another. Nancy spotted him, making sure he used his body and the weights properly.
    As prearranged,