Lane led her inside and down an echoing hallway to a door with Administration painted in gold on the frosted glass pane in its upper half. Inside was a small anteroom with a desk, a waiting area, and a couple of file cabinets. Through a doorway to one side, Nancy caught a glimpse of an elaborate-looking computer setup.
The woman at the desk raised her head and said, “Please go right in, Mr. Lane. The headmaster is expecting you.” Nancy noted her nameplate: Ms. Arletti.
Nancy had been expecting the headmaster to be a gray-haired man, perhaps with a trim mustache, but Walter Friedbinder was young and athletic looking, with short-cropped, reddish hair and intense blue eyes. He sprang up from his desk as they entered his office.
“Welcome to Brewster Academy, Ms. Drew,” he said, offering his hand. “It’s nice to have you with us.”
“Thank you. And please call me Nancy,” she said. “But maybe I’d better use the name Nancy Stevens around here. My name has been in the papers, and it might be best if no one knows I’m a detective.”
“Of course,” said Friedbinder, the smile fading from his face. “I hope you can help us. As I’m sure Harrison told you, this is my first year at Brewster. I accepted the position as headmaster because I admire Brewster’s progressive educational system. The thought that the school might be ruined by a scandal makes me sick.”
“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Friedbinder,” Nancy told him.
His smile returned. “Please call me Walter. We try to keep things informal around here.”
He returned to his desk and picked up a file folder. “I think you’ll find whatever you need to know about the tutoring program in here,” he said, handing it to Nancy. “Now, why don’t we go next door and I’ll introduce you to my assistant head, Phyllis Hathaway. She can take you down to the learning lab and get you settled in.”
“I’ve got to be off,” Lane told them, checking his watch.
Just as they left the headmaster’s office, the door across the anteroom swung open. An attractive woman with dark hair pulled back in a French braid came out. She was about thirty years old and stylishly dressed in a black linen dress.
“Why, hello,” Lane said. “It’s been a long time. How are you?”
The woman gave him a surprised look, then smiled politely and said only, “Fine.”
There was an awkward pause, then the banker said, “Well, goodbye, everyone,” and left.
Walter urged Nancy across the room.
“Phyllis,” he said, “this is Nancy Stevens, who is joining the tutorial program. I said you’d help get her squared away.”
Nancy was glad that he’d remembered to use her alias. The fewer people who knew her true identity, the better.
“Hi, Nancy,” the woman said. “I’m Phyllis Hathaway. Come into my office. I’ll tell you a little about the program, then we can go down to check out the classroom where you’ll be working. Have you done much of this sort of work before?”
Walter rushed to answer before Nancy could reply. “Nancy has excellent qualifications,” he said, his voice harsh and impatient.
Phyllis’s expression hardened. “I’m sure she does,” she said in a clipped tone that clearly said, Mind your own business.
The headmaster’s face reddened, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, after another awkward pause, he said, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Nancy, if you need anything, just let me know.”
He disappeared into his office, and Nancy followed Phyllis into hers.
“I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable,” the woman said apologetically after they were seated. “I’ve been at Brewster for a number of years, ever since I finished college out in California. But Mr. Friedbinder is new to the place. We’re still learning to work with each other. I guess we’re experiencing what’s called a personality conflict.”
“That happens, I suppose,” Nancy murmured. She glanced around the office. Half of Phyllis’s desk was taken up by the high-powered computer work station Nancy had glimpsed before. The bookcase behind Phyllis’s chair seemed to be filled mostly with software manuals and books on computer programming.
“I’ve heard that the school has a very advanced computer system,” Nancy remarked.