Power of Suggestion (3 page)

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.”

B
UT 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 doing, 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.”

Ned promised he would. Nancy gave him an encouraging smile, while Bess kissed him on the cheek. “We'll see you in the morning,” Bess promised. Then Easterling led Parker down the hall.

A police officer drove Nancy, Ned, and Bess back to the Emerson campus, letting them off at Packard Hall. During the ride, Nancy sat silently,
going over Wayne's murder and Parker's arrest in her mind.

“Hey, Nan, you've been very quiet since we left police headquarters,” Ned said, pausing outside the dormitory.

Nancy took a deep breath. “I know you both like Parker a lot,” she began cautiously, “but so far all the evidence points to him as Wayne's murderer. He was the only one in the lab, his prints are on the gun, and he doesn't have an alibi.”

“Then the evidence is wrong!” Bess declared.

“Bess is right,” Ned added. “Parker wouldn't hurt a fly.”

Nancy hoped her friends were right. But she couldn't rid her mind of the doubts about Parker's innocence.