It was Kim! She was wearing a wig, but Nancy recognized her anyway.
“Stop!” Nancy cried as Kim bolted for a red car parked down the street.
Chapter Ten
Sprinting to her car, Kim jumped in and turned the key to rev the engine. With a squeal of rubber, the red car roared away from the curb and tore down the street.
Nancy didn’t hesitate. She jumped into her Mustang and broke her own personal record for getting under way. Soon she spotted the car several blocks ahead. It was turning left onto a side street. Nancy followed as fast as the law allowed.
At the side street, she made a racing turn and sped down the winding, tree-lined avenue, the red car still far ahead of her.
Nancy pressed down on the accelerator. Her blue Mustang responded instantly, and the gap began to narrow. They were heading into Sally Lane’s posh neighborhood. The street went down a little hill and curved to the left before straightening out. As Nancy came out of the curve, she muttered, “Oh, rats!”
The street was empty as far as she could see. Somehow Kim had given her the slip.
Nancy braked to a screeching halt. The car couldn’t have gotten that far ahead in the few seconds it was out of sight. It must have turned into one of the driveways.
She began to move again, at little more than walking pace, pausing to peer up each driveway. At the fifth one she got lucky. She could just see the back fender of a red car, sticking out from behind a trellis of vines. She pulled over and parked just beyond the driveway.
The redbrick house was very large, with white shutters, and was set well back from the street. Matching oak trees flanked the brick walk that led to the front door. Nancy walked up to the door. The name engraved on the brass door knocker was Archibald. Hadn’t Sally told her Kim’s last name was Foster, or—Forster, yes, that was it.
Nancy pressed the mother-of-pearl bell to the right of the door. After a few moments a middle-aged woman with gray hair, wearing a navy blue dress and two strings of pearls, opened the door.
“If it’s the Junior League raffle,” she began, “I’m afraid I’ve already—”
Nancy smiled politely and said, “No, ma’am. I’m looking for Kim.”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Kim? Oh, yes, of course. You must be one of her school friends. It’s around the back, dear. Over the garage.”
Nancy thanked her and went in the direction the woman had indicated. At the back of the house, separated from it by a high hedge, was a two-story brick garage with spaces for four cars. A wooden staircase led up to a second-story door on one side. Nancy climbed the stairs and knocked.
No one answered, but Nancy was sure she heard someone stirring inside. She knocked again, louder, then called out, “Kim? I have to talk to you.”
There were more rustling sounds, then the door swung open. Kim stood there obviously defeated, the black wig in her hands. “Come on in,” she said, “before Mrs. Archibald hears you.”
Nancy followed her into a small but comfortable living room. On a table between two windows was a large photo in a silver frame. The picture showed a younger and happier Kim seated between a man in a dark suit and a woman in a black dress. Apparently her parents were the housekeepers for the Archibalds.
Seeing where Nancy’s attention was focused, Kim rushed over and turned the photo facedown on the table. “Why don’t you stay out of my life?” she cried.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” Nancy told her. “Kim, what were you doing at the bank?”
“Just what you said,” Kim shot back hotly. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“What I said?” Nancy echoed, very confused.
“I haven’t kept a single penny of it for myself, and you both know it,” Kim continued.
Nancy simply stared at the girl. What was she talking about?
“Kim, listen to me,” Nancy said. “I’m a detective. Whoever you think I am, you’re wrong. My real name is Nancy Drew. The reason I’m at Brewster is that someone on the board of trustees asked me to find out who is responsible for the grade-changing racket. And I’m pretty sure you can help me.”
“Oh, su-u-re,” Kim replied, rolling her eyes. “This is a test, right? To see if I can be trusted? Don’t worry. I’ll live up to my end of the bargain.” With that, she collapsed into a chair and began crying bitterly.
Nancy waited until Kim calmed down and straightened in the chair, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks. “I guess that’s it, huh?” Kim told her. “Now you’ll lower my grade-point average, just the way you said you would if anything went wrong. I can kiss college goodbye.”
Nancy went over and held Kim by the shoulders. “Listen to me! I am not the person responsible for this. I swear! You’ve got to tell me what’s going on, Kim. It’s the only way I can help you.”
Kim stared up into Nancy’s eyes. “Are you for real?” she finally asked.
Nancy nodded.
“I was so sure you had to be involved. I just couldn’t see Victor running this on his own,” Kim continued. “He loves fooling around with the school computer and getting it to do weird tricks, but once he’s figured something out, he gets bored and goes on to something else. He couldn’t be bothered to do the same thing over and over, not even for money. So I figured he had to have a partner. Then you showed up, and I was sure.”
“If Victor did have a partner, it would be someone at the school,” Nancy pointed out, perching on the edge of the sofa. “But I’ve only just started there, and this grade-changer has been operating for almost two weeks. Besides, what makes you so sure Victor’s involved?”
Kim stared down at her lap and said so softly that Nancy had to lean in closer to hear, “He told me so. He said that he’d changed someone’s grades. He pretended to feel really bad about it, but now I can see that was just a put-on. If he’d meant it, he wouldn’t have kept doing it, and he wouldn’t have forced me to get involved.”
Nancy’s breath caught in her throat. “Why did you write that note to the headmaster?” she asked after a pause. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. I was furious at you and Victor for what you were doing to me,” Kim replied, her pale blue eyes flashing. “I wanted to get you in as much trouble as I could without getting myself in hot water. It didn’t work, did it?”
“It might have,” Nancy told her, “except that Mr. Friedbinder knows who I am and why I’m at Brewster. How did you get involved in this racket?”
“There was a message in my E-mail,” Kim explained. “Whoever sent it knew I couldn’t afford to pay to have my grades changed, but he said I could improve my transcript if I ran a few errands. He also said that if I didn’t agree, my transcript could end up looking a lot worse than it really is. So I opened the account wearing this dumb wig. And he tells me when to pick up the money.”
“Why didn’t you go straight to the headmaster and tell him about it?” Nancy asked.
Kim shook her head sharply. “I couldn’t bring myself to turn Victor in. I’m really hung up on the guy.”
“Victor’s not the only one who could be responsible,” Nancy told Kim. “If I’m going to catch the culprit, I need to know how the money transfer works. I know you have a bank card for that account, but how do you know when to use it, and what happens to the cash?”
“I get an E-mail message,” Kim replied. “In code. If it says M five, I know I should withdraw five hundred dollars on Monday. T ten means one thousand dollars on Tuesday, and so on. It’s usually after or before school, but today the message said to go at lunchtime. I’m missing math right now.”
“How do you deliver the money?” Nancy asked.
“I put the bills in a brown envelope and leave it in one of the faculty mailboxes before school.”