008 Two Points to Murder (10 page)

"Hang on, Mike. The guards are bringing the ambulance around from the parking lot," the coach told him.

Nancy remembered seeing the vehicle in front of the building before the rally. State law required one to be present at every large public and sporting event.

Mike cried out. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. "Coach . . . get . . . get . . ."

"Like I said, the ambulance is on the way," the coach repeated.

"No! Get . . . Nancy Drew!"

Startled, Nancy stepped forward and sank down next to him. "I'm here, Mike."

"N-nancy . . . I've got to . . . to tell you what happened!" he gasped.

"I'm listening. But, Mike, please take it easy! You're hurt!"

"I know. Got to . . . to get to a hospital," he echoed weakly. "Listen . . . the one you're looking for is . . . is . . ."

Nancy bit her lip. Talking was obviously draining his strength. He should stop, yet she wanted him to continue! He was about to say something important, she felt. Something vital to the case!

"Get away from him!" barked a commanding voice suddenly. "Make room! Make room! We've got to get him on this stretcher!"

The ambulance had arrived, and with it was Ed Riggs, the team doctor Nancy had met the first day on campus.

"Hurry! Get that thing over here!" Dr. Riggs shouted to the ambulance crew. "And you . . . Miss Drew! What do you think you're doing? Get away from him this instant!"

"Sorry." Embarrassed, Nancy rose and backed away. Quickly the medics lifted Mike and wheeled him to the ambulance. A moment later it was speeding to the hospital, its siren wailing.

The small crowd of people nearby began to disperse. Pat Burnett and Dr. Riggs hurried to the doctor's car for the ride to the hospital. Nancy planned to follow them in her Mustang, but first she had to check something out.

Backing away from the building, she glanced up at the roofline. There was a tubular metal railing up there, she noticed. It was about three or four feet high. Had Mike fallen over it accidentally? No way. The logical explanation was a lot simpler--and a lot more disturbing.

Mike had been pushed!

At the hospital, Nancy found Bess, George, and most of the team members already there, as well as several fans and faculty members.

The outpouring of concern for Mike made her ashamed. Ned wasn't the only one who believed hi him, she could see. Others admired and respected him, too. How could she have been so wrong?

She
had
been wrong, of course. Mike hadn't pushed himself off that roof. Someone else had. The practical joker? Maybe, maybe not. Whoever it was, he had tried to kill Mike in order to keep him from spilling what he knew. It was obvious now that Mike was involved in something far bigger than she had imagined.

But what was it? A conspiracy against the team? Against the whole college? There was no way to know, and that infuriated her. Some detective she was turning out to be!

A short while later, Jan Teller arrived. When Ned told her what had happened to Mike, the petite brunette sank onto a couch and burst into tears. A hush fell over the room.

Silently, Ned sat down next to her and put his arms around her.

For what seemed like hours, they waited for some word from the doctors. At one point, Ray Ungar came in and sat quietly with his former teammates, confirming Nancy's belief that his loyalty to the team was genuine. It was no compensation.

At another point, Nancy tried to comfort Ned. He was alone now on a sofa, hunched over, his head in his hands. Nancy sat next to him and lightly placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Ned, I--"

He shrugged her off. Daggers seemed to shoot from his eyes as he turned to her. "Forget it, Nancy. There isn't anything you can say."

"I know, but I still want you to know that I'm sorry. Mike is your friend."

"You finally noticed, huh? Well, congratulations," he spat.

"Ned, please don't be like this."

"Why not? You never believed in him. For all I know you may still think he's responsible for all those pranks."

"I--" Nancy hesitated, uncertain of what to say. "Well, I do think one thing," she said finally. "This case isn't over yet. Not by a long shot."

"Brilliant, Nancy. Absolutely brilliant. Anybody can see that!"

Ned's sarcasm stung, but she deserved it, Nancy supposed. If she had done her work better, then maybe they wouldn't all be sitting in this emergency room right now!

Finally, a white-coated doctor appeared. Heads turned toward him. Ned and Jan leapt up simultaneously and rushed over to the man. "How is he?" Ned asked.

"His condition is serious, but he's stable," the doctor announced.

"How badly is he hurt?"

"Mike has a broken leg and multiple back injuries. We believe there may be some subdural hemorrhage of the spinal cord as well."

"What does
that
mean? Will he be okay?"

"He'll probably recover well enough to walk again, if that's what you mean."

"Walk!" Ned gasped. "What about basketball? Mike was planning to turn pro!"

The doctor shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, young man, but I'm afraid that's impossible now. Mike's basketball days are over."

Groans of horror and dismay filled the air. He had to be kidding. Mike was one of the finest young players in the nation!

No one felt worse about the news than Nancy. Leaning against a wall for support, she silently vowed to work twice as hard to conclude this case. Partly her resolve sprang from guilt over Mike's condition, and partly it sprang from a sudden realization.

Mike was the victim of an attempted murder! Not only that, it was possible that the culprit would try to kill again!

Chapter Fifteen

T
HAT EVENING,
N
ANCY
and her friends watched the game from the stands. Nancy was tense. She was still expecting another practical joke, but by halftime it had not been played. Why was the joker waiting so long? she wondered. Was he saving his knockout blow for the last minute?

Emerson's opponent that night was its arch-rival, Barton College. Traditionally, the match was a close one, but tonight it was even closer since Emerson was playing without its star forward, Mike O'Shea. Ned was doing an outstanding job of keeping the team together, Nancy saw, but even so it was rough going. Try as they might, the Wildcats' lead never rose above five points. Usually it was less.

When the second half started, the Wildcats threw themselves into the game as never before. Barton countered with a relentless man-to-man defense, but it wasn't enough. Slowly Emerson's score climbed, and at last it stabilized at an eight-point advantage. For every two points Barton scored, Emerson scored a matching pair. Every successful Barton foul shot was followed by an Emerson bucket.

The fans cheered nonstop. Nancy had never heard such loud support in her life. The storm of applause reached its peak with ten minutes to go, as Howie Little ran a fast break down court and scored with a spectacular double-handed slam dunk. As Ned and Howie exchanged a high five, Nancy was positive that the noise would bring down the roof.

As the game neared its end, however, she began to see signs of tension in the Emerson players. Andy Hall and Craig Watson looked especially unhappy. During a short break in the action, the two held a midcourt conference that ended with Craig shoving Andy. Nancy heard him shout, "C'mon, man, get with it! It's gonna be a push!"

Puzzled, Nancy turned to George. "What does
push
mean?" she asked.

"Beats me. I've never heard that term before," George replied.

Nancy's curiosity vanished less than a minute later. Just after the Wildcats threw the ball into play following a Barton foul shot, an accident occurred. At least it
seemed
like an accident.

Ned was dribbling the ball up the court with one hand and signaling his teammates with the other. At midcourt he glanced toward his coach. At the same moment, Craig and Andy ran a scissors cut--Craig brushing by Ned in front, Andy brushing past him from behind. The next instant Ned was on the floor, writhing. He had fallen!

Nancy screamed. She couldn't help it. Ned was hurt! He might even be seriously injured! Leaping up, she rushed to the sideline. She wanted to run onto the court, but a pair of security guards grabbed her by the arms, stopping her.

It took a long time for Ned to get up. Once he did, he had to be helped off the court by Dr. Riggs and the team's manager. He was limping, Nancy saw. His teeth clenched together with every step. But in spite of that, he wasn't ready to quit.

". . . I'm okay, honest," she heard him say as he approached.

Dr. Riggs shook his head firmly. "Baloney. I'm not letting you back on this court until I've had that foot X-rayed."

"But the game! The team needs me out there!" he pleaded.

"No dice. You're injured, and if I let you keep playing I'm just begging for a lawsuit on my last day of work."

"But, Dr. Riggs--!"

"Forget it. You're out of the game, and that's all there is to it."

When Nancy returned to her seat she was trembling. She was also deeply confused. Sitting, she began to think feverishly. Her program twisted around and around in her hands.

"Nan, what's the matter?" Bess asked. "Ned's all right, isn't he?"

"Yes. It's not Ned that's bothering me. It's what happened just now."

"What about it? It was only an accident."

"I don't think so. I think Ned was deliberately taken down."

George turned toward her in surprise. "You mean Craig and Andy put him out of action on purpose? But how? Why?"

"I'm not sure how. It happened so fast I couldn't really see. As to why, I'm not sure about that, either. But I've got to figure it out!"

On the court, the game resumed. Around her, the fans continued their chants and cheers. Nancy heard none of it. Elbows on her knees, she desperately tried to make sense out of the senseless events of the last five days.

Why would Craig and Andy hurt a member of their own team? Who had pushed Mike off the sports complex's roof? Who had been driving the black Camaro when the bus's tire was shot, and why was he also beating up Emerson students?

The questions went on endlessly. Nancy looked at them from every angle she could think of. Still none of it made sense. Frustration swelled inside her like a balloon. If she didn't solve this mystery--and soon--she felt like she would burst!

The game entered its final minutes. With Ned out of action, Emerson slowly lost its lead. Seven points . . . six points . . . four points . . . soon Barton would overtake them and pull ahead!

"We're getting killed!" Bess cried, glancing at the clock. "What a time for Ned to be benched!"

George nodded grimly. "You said it! I'll bet the other team is happy about it, though."

Suddenly Nancy sat up. "George! What was that you just said?"

"Didn't you hear? I said, I'll bet the other team is happy."

In one magical burst of insight, everything fell into place. Nancy grabbed her friend's arm. "George, that's it! You just gave me the answer!"

Chapter Sixteen

"
C
'MON, YOU GUYS!
We've got to find a phone!" Leaping up, Nancy began to push her way to the aisle. Bess and George exchanged puzzled looks but quickly rose to follow her.

The lobby outside the gym was empty. Everyone, including the security guards, was inside watching the game. Nancy spotted a pay phone on the opposite wall and ran for it, digging all her change from her pocket as she did.

Please let him be home! she prayed silently as she punched out a long-distance number. On the other end, the phone began to ring. Please let him be there! If he is, I promise that I'll never run my credit card over its limit again!

Carson Drew's voice was calm and steady when he finally answered. "Hello?"

"Dad, thank goodness you're home! I really need to talk to you!"

"Nancy! What is it?" her father asked. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad, but this case has been driving me crazy. You wouldn't believe how weird it's been."

"Knowing you and your nose for trouble, I think I would." He laughed.

Nancy laughed then, too. It was such a relief to talk to him!

"Listen, I think I've worked out most of the puzzle, but there are still a few blank spots," she said. "I need your help to fill them in. Have you got the time?"

"Of course! Fire away," he offered.

Rapidly Nancy sketched the basics of her theory. Her father grasped the situation immediately, and in no time was giving her exactly the information that she needed.

Nancy smiled. Most people knew that Carson Drew was a highly respected criminal lawyer, but few realized that in addition to defending the innocent he also defended the guilty. He knew a lot about crime. Now that knowledge proved highly useful. Her grin broadened as he finished.

"Thanks, Dad. That does it . . . oh, except for one thing. Does the term
push
mean anything special to you?"

It did. Nancy listened for a few seconds longer, then said a hasty goodbye. Hanging up, she turned to Bess and George.

"Okay, let's roll!"

"Wait a minute! What's going on, Nancy?" George demanded.

"Yeah," Bess echoed. "Aren't you going to fill us in?"

"There isn't time. The culprit is probably getting ready to escape right this minute. We've got to stop him!"

Nancy paused to check one final fact, however. Opening the directory that hung on a chain below the pay phone, she looked up a number: the number on the scrap of paper she'd picked up in the bookstore phone booth. Then, satisfied, she started down the main corridor, away from the gym. She motioned for her friends to follow her, then zipped down a stairway.

As they walked, the sounds of the game faded behind them. The final buzzer must be near, Nancy knew, but they would have to wait to find out who won. There wasn't a second to lose!

The final corridor to which they came was just as Nancy remembered it. Like the first time she had gone down it, it was silent. The noise from the gym was no more than a memory here. Stopping at a familiar door, she whispered to her friends.