"Have the plumbers arrived yet?" Lyman demanded in an irritated voice when he entered the foundation later that night.
"No," Nurse Rhodes answered then quickly looked over her shoulder to where Fenton was looking through one of the files.
"You alerted Mr. Poe?" Lyman demanded in outrage.
"No, Sir," the nurse quickly denied. "He showed up here after you left and refused to allow me to call you. He said he wanted to inspect the foundation without your presence,"
"Great," Lyman mumbled, shaking his head. "Whatever. How bad is the damage?"
"Sir?"
"The pipes in the east wing?" Lyman questioned.
"Oh. Two rooms are completely water logged and it's still flooding," the nurse told him. "Fortunately, that section of the wing is currently empty."
"Thank God for small favors," Lyman said with a wan smile. "Call the plumbers again and see how much longer it will be," he instructed.
"Yes, Sir," acknowledged the nurse.
"Mr. Poe," Lyman greeted Fenton, going over to where he stood. "I did not realize you intended to return this evening."
"I chose to do a little delving on my own," Fenton stated. "I understand there is a problem with the plumbing?"
"So it seems," Lyman agreed. "Mr. Poe, may I be blunt?"
"Please."
"I do not know why you chose to return after my absence and I suppose it doesn't matter," Lyman began. "But I want to state one thing for the record: I have given my full cooperation and have denied you access to nothing. This entire foundation is open for your inspection at any time and my presence is not mandatory. I was merely being courteous in helping you. You have no need to sneak around when I am gone. You have merely to say so and I will gladly take a day off to allow you your discretion."
"Mr. Lyman, where were you this evening?" Fenton asked.
"My private life does not enter into this," Lyman stated firmly.
"In the inspection, no," agreed Fenton. "But into the murder of one, possibly more, patients, then it does."
"What?" gasped Lyman, his face riddled with shock.
"Your facility is conducting unethical experiments on its patients," Fenton informed him, watching his reaction closely.
"Wha.." Lyman couldn't get his words out. With eyes bulging and mouth hanging open, he grabbed the desk for support.
"You have no idea?" asked Fenton.
"Tha...that's not possible," Lyman said.
"The patients' folders all are labeled with two identifying marks," said Fenton. "The first is a number and the second is a letter. The code is used to identify which control group the patient is in."
"The...the control numbers do have something to do with research," Lyman admitted. "We are a research facility," he reminded him. "Dr. Holden and Dr. Turner came up with the system to identify which patients are in need of a more stringent regime. But I assure you," he added, "there is nothing unethical going on here."
"Then you believe it is ethical to give depressants to a patient with severe anorexia?" accused Fenton.
"Absolutely not!" Lyman declared angrily.
"And yet, Joe Hardy was given them this morning," Fenton informed him, his own anger greater than Lyman's although a bit more concealed.
"You must be mistaken," Lyman insisted so strongly that Fenton was starting to believe him.
"Am I?" pushed Fenton. "Am I also mistaken in believing that you stalled as long as possible this morning when Mrs. Hardy desired to pick up her son? Stalled long enough, in fact, for Dr. Holden to pay Joe another visit?"
"Okay, I did," Lyman confessed. "But only so Dr. Holden could give Joe a final physical. He and his brother have done a lot to help people and I didn't want him leaving without making sure he was no worse than when he arrived. He doesn't deserve this."
"And the other patients do?" inquired Fenton.
"Of course not!" Lyman denied. "But, well, I owe Joe and Frank," he ended lamely, not noticing the look of shocked disbelief that flitted across Fenton's face.
"How?" demanded Fenton.
"Awhile back there was a hypnotist that managed to frame some youths for various crimes," Lyman informed him. "My son was one of those kids. The Hardy boys proved it was the hypnotist behind the thefts and my son was released."
"So you really wouldn't do anything to hurt Joe Hardy?" Fenton asked, believing the man was sincere.
"Of course not," Lyman answered. "Why are you so interested in Joe anyway?" he asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
"First, tell me about Crystal Lane," Fenton said. "How did she die?"
"She..she committed suicide," Lyman answered, his perplexity still obvious.
"How?"
"She broke into Dr. Holden's office and stole some amphetamines," Lyman answered.
"Amphetamines?" queried Fenton. "All the patients here have a problem with weight loss. Why would Holden even have them?"
"I...I hadn't thought about that," a stupefied Lyman stuttered.
"You have no idea what's going on here, do you?" inquired Fenton.
Lyman opened his mouth to protest but his words weren't what he had planned. "What is going on here?" he asked. "Who are you? Really? What's your interest in Joe and Crystal?"
"I'm Joe's father," Fenton answered.
"Father? Fenton Hardy?" gasped Lyman. "But...why?"
"Joe lost weight, without my consent or knowledge, so he could get in here and find out who murdered Crystal," Fenton informed him.
"But she wasn't..." he began but broke off. "The amphetamines," he said dully.
"I need all the information you have on Holden and Turner," Fenton told him. "They have taken Joe somewhere."
"There are unused rooms here," Lyman said. "It is possible they put him in one of those."
"We have already checked," Fenton said.
"We?"
"My eldest son, Frank, is working here as an orderly," Fenton said.
"You have access to all of the files," Lyman said. "You should have both Holden's and Turner's addresses."
"And I had both checked out," Fenton told him. "But neither address exists."
"No," Nurse Rhodes answered then quickly looked over her shoulder to where Fenton was looking through one of the files.
"You alerted Mr. Poe?" Lyman demanded in outrage.
"No, Sir," the nurse quickly denied. "He showed up here after you left and refused to allow me to call you. He said he wanted to inspect the foundation without your presence,"
"Great," Lyman mumbled, shaking his head. "Whatever. How bad is the damage?"
"Sir?"
"The pipes in the east wing?" Lyman questioned.
"Oh. Two rooms are completely water logged and it's still flooding," the nurse told him. "Fortunately, that section of the wing is currently empty."
"Thank God for small favors," Lyman said with a wan smile. "Call the plumbers again and see how much longer it will be," he instructed.
"Yes, Sir," acknowledged the nurse.
"Mr. Poe," Lyman greeted Fenton, going over to where he stood. "I did not realize you intended to return this evening."
"I chose to do a little delving on my own," Fenton stated. "I understand there is a problem with the plumbing?"
"So it seems," Lyman agreed. "Mr. Poe, may I be blunt?"
"Please."
"I do not know why you chose to return after my absence and I suppose it doesn't matter," Lyman began. "But I want to state one thing for the record: I have given my full cooperation and have denied you access to nothing. This entire foundation is open for your inspection at any time and my presence is not mandatory. I was merely being courteous in helping you. You have no need to sneak around when I am gone. You have merely to say so and I will gladly take a day off to allow you your discretion."
"Mr. Lyman, where were you this evening?" Fenton asked.
"My private life does not enter into this," Lyman stated firmly.
"In the inspection, no," agreed Fenton. "But into the murder of one, possibly more, patients, then it does."
"What?" gasped Lyman, his face riddled with shock.
"Your facility is conducting unethical experiments on its patients," Fenton informed him, watching his reaction closely.
"Wha.." Lyman couldn't get his words out. With eyes bulging and mouth hanging open, he grabbed the desk for support.
"You have no idea?" asked Fenton.
"Tha...that's not possible," Lyman said.
"The patients' folders all are labeled with two identifying marks," said Fenton. "The first is a number and the second is a letter. The code is used to identify which control group the patient is in."
"The...the control numbers do have something to do with research," Lyman admitted. "We are a research facility," he reminded him. "Dr. Holden and Dr. Turner came up with the system to identify which patients are in need of a more stringent regime. But I assure you," he added, "there is nothing unethical going on here."
"Then you believe it is ethical to give depressants to a patient with severe anorexia?" accused Fenton.
"Absolutely not!" Lyman declared angrily.
"And yet, Joe Hardy was given them this morning," Fenton informed him, his own anger greater than Lyman's although a bit more concealed.
"You must be mistaken," Lyman insisted so strongly that Fenton was starting to believe him.
"Am I?" pushed Fenton. "Am I also mistaken in believing that you stalled as long as possible this morning when Mrs. Hardy desired to pick up her son? Stalled long enough, in fact, for Dr. Holden to pay Joe another visit?"
"Okay, I did," Lyman confessed. "But only so Dr. Holden could give Joe a final physical. He and his brother have done a lot to help people and I didn't want him leaving without making sure he was no worse than when he arrived. He doesn't deserve this."
"And the other patients do?" inquired Fenton.
"Of course not!" Lyman denied. "But, well, I owe Joe and Frank," he ended lamely, not noticing the look of shocked disbelief that flitted across Fenton's face.
"How?" demanded Fenton.
"Awhile back there was a hypnotist that managed to frame some youths for various crimes," Lyman informed him. "My son was one of those kids. The Hardy boys proved it was the hypnotist behind the thefts and my son was released."
"So you really wouldn't do anything to hurt Joe Hardy?" Fenton asked, believing the man was sincere.
"Of course not," Lyman answered. "Why are you so interested in Joe anyway?" he asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
"First, tell me about Crystal Lane," Fenton said. "How did she die?"
"She..she committed suicide," Lyman answered, his perplexity still obvious.
"How?"
"She broke into Dr. Holden's office and stole some amphetamines," Lyman answered.
"Amphetamines?" queried Fenton. "All the patients here have a problem with weight loss. Why would Holden even have them?"
"I...I hadn't thought about that," a stupefied Lyman stuttered.
"You have no idea what's going on here, do you?" inquired Fenton.
Lyman opened his mouth to protest but his words weren't what he had planned. "What is going on here?" he asked. "Who are you? Really? What's your interest in Joe and Crystal?"
"I'm Joe's father," Fenton answered.
"Father? Fenton Hardy?" gasped Lyman. "But...why?"
"Joe lost weight, without my consent or knowledge, so he could get in here and find out who murdered Crystal," Fenton informed him.
"But she wasn't..." he began but broke off. "The amphetamines," he said dully.
"I need all the information you have on Holden and Turner," Fenton told him. "They have taken Joe somewhere."
"There are unused rooms here," Lyman said. "It is possible they put him in one of those."
"We have already checked," Fenton said.
"We?"
"My eldest son, Frank, is working here as an orderly," Fenton said.
"You have access to all of the files," Lyman said. "You should have both Holden's and Turner's addresses."
"And I had both checked out," Fenton told him. "But neither address exists."