Darkness Falls (13 page)

When Kanekahana was gone, Frank reached for the remote and rewound the videotape. “Let's watch it again, Joe,” he said. “It's just so incredible.”

They watched it again, and then again. It was about two-thirds of the way through the third viewing when Frank noticed something he hadn't seen before. Something amazing. Something that, if he wasn't mistaken, would prove who the murderer was.

Grabbing the remote again, he rewound the tape thirty seconds back and played the key section again. No, he hadn't been mistaken. There was the proof they'd been looking for, right before his eyes. “Do you see what I see, Joe?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” Joe confessed. “Play it again.”

This time, Frank wound the tape all the way back and played it the whole way through.

When they reached the key section, Frank said, “Now watch here.”

Joe paid close attention, and Frank watched his brother's eyes light up at what he saw. “I don't believe it!” Joe gasped. “It was MacLaughlin—and we can nail him with this, Frank!”

“Not quite,” Frank cautioned his brother. “The videotape is only circumstantial evidence. We'd have to search MacLaughlin's room to see if we can find solid evidence to back up our theory.”

“Right,” Joe said, reaching over and ejecting the vidéocassette. “Let's get out of here.”

They got in their car and headed in the direction of their hotel. “He'll be at the hospital tonight, so we can do a good, thorough search of his room,” Frank said, smiling as he leaned back in his seat and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“I still don't get it, Frank,” Joe said. “How could one person possibly have committed all those crimes?”

“I have to admit, it sounds improbable that anyone could have pulled it all off,” Frank said, “but MacLaughlin could have if anyone could. Think about it, Joe. He was on stage with Ebersol when he nearly got fried. He was up on the mountain when someone tried to run us down. He was at Michele's the morning she wound up on that surfboard, and he was
up at the observatory when his van blew. I know he claims he walked down the mountainside after the car bomb went off, but what if he didn't? What if he had another car stowed? He could have driven down to town, shot De La Rosa, then gone to Michele Ebersol's and drugged her before heading straight to the emergency room.”

Joe screwed up his face. “There are two problems with that theory. One, MacLaughlin was in the tent with us during the eclipse. How could he have killed Ebersol? And the second question is why? Why would he do it?”

“That's something we'll have to learn from MacLaughlin himself, or maybe from Michele,” Frank said, pulling into the hotel parking lot. “We really are lucky Kanekahana sent his men out there when he did. As for how MacLaughlin could have killed Ebersol—well, you've got that video in your hands, Joe. Put it together with that photograph with the unidentified head. Think about it—you tell me how he did it.”

Joe thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I see what you're getting at,” he said, gripping the videocassette a little bit tighter.

The brothers got out of the car and hurried up to MacLaughlin's room. Fortunately, there was no one in the hallway. As Joe stood watch, Frank removed the lock pick from his wallet
and used it on the door. It creaked open, and they crept inside.

The place was dark and close. Clearly, MacLaughlin must have told the hotel staff not to clean his room. “I'll check out the bedroom, Joe,” Frank whispered. “You look here in the sitting room.”

Joe nodded and tiptoed straight ahead into the stifling darkness. Frank stepped forward and then to his left, entering the bedroom.

“Nobody home, Frank,” Joe said, entering the room and flicking on the light. “Whoa! This guy is a slob!”

MacLaughlin's bedroom was a housekeeper's nightmare. Clothes and papers were scattered everywhere. “It almost looks like somebody's ransacked the place,” Frank commented. “It wasn't nearly this bad last time we were in here.”

“Well, if you're right, and MacLaughlin's our man, he certainly wouldn't have had time to clean up.”

“And maybe that will be his downfall,” Frank said, a smile creeping over his face. “Let's have a look around, Joe. What do you want to bet we find something?”

Looking around the room, it was clear that MacLaughlin's life was lived primarily in a lab. Everywhere Frank looked he saw half-written
formulas, scrawled notes and drawings, dogeared books, and scientific journals.

“Nothing much here,” Joe said, disappointed.

Frank dropped to his knees, checking under the bed and dresser, and said, “Not so fast, Joe. I think I may have found something.”

Getting up, Frank braced himself against the dresser. “Help me push it away from the wall,” he said.

Joe came over to help. Soon they had edged the heavy piece of furniture far enough from the wall so that Frank could reach behind it. He felt his hand brush against cloth, and moments later he brought it out and held it up.

Both their faces tightened at the grisly sight. In his hand, Frank held the piece of damning evidence they needed. It was a plain white shirt—except for one thing. The front was smeared with a large, dark red streak of blood!

“T
HIS IS IT,
Joe,” Frank said, gulping hard. “We've got the proof we need!”

“Unless someone planted it to make MacLaughlin look guilty,” Joe pointed out.

“Hmmm—that's always a possibility,” Frank admitted. He checked out the room until he spotted a discarded plastic dry cleaner's bag. Carefully wrapping the bloody shirt inside the bag, he unzipped the small pack he wore around his waist and placed the bag inside the pack. “I don't think it's a plant, though,” he added. “Not when you consider that videotape and the photograph with a head. What we need now is a confession from MacLaughlin. Then Kanekahana could really nail him.”

“How can we get a confession?” Joe wondered.

“I think I have a way,” Frank said mysteriously. “After we do some work on the video, we'll get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we'll invite Captain Kanekahana to join us on a visit to MacLaughlin in the hospital, and we'll bring these videotapes along, too.”

The moment Joe's head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. It seemed just moments later that Frank was calling his name, urging him to get up and get dressed.

Frank made a quick call to Captain Kanekahana, asking him to make sure MacLaughlin wasn't released from the hospital early, and to meet them there. The brothers grabbed a couple of muffins and some cans of juice, got in their car, and pulled out onto the Kailua strip.

“It's too early for traffic, I guess,” Joe said, staring at the empty road.

Frank gripped the wheel and gazed straight ahead, but he seemed lost in thought. “Joe,” he said after a few moments, “remember the jacket MacLaughlin was wearing in the tent during the eclipse? He must have used it to cover his bloody shirt after he stabbed Dr. Ebersol.”

“You mean he sneaked out of our tent while we were concentrating on the eclipse, took off
the jacket, went to Ebersol's tent, stabbed him, came back, put the jacket back on, and went back to work?” Joe said with a shiver. “That's a pretty grisly scenario. But you know something?” Joe realized suddenly. “It really explains how that ghostly head got on our film! I must have snapped a picture without realizing it when I handed you the camera, so that picture must be MacLaughlin's head as he was sneaking back.”

“Right,” Frank agreed. “The timing works, Joe. Think about it. He comes back into the tent as you snap that picture. Then he finds that his videotape has jammed, or broken, or overheated while he was gone. So later, when he has the time, he makes a copy of the video, using the first two and a half minutes of the tape twice—at the beginning and then again at the end—to cover the part of the tape that was lost!”

“It makes perfect sense,” Joe said. “And the timing of the photo I took would fit right in with that scenario.”

“Come to think of it,” Frank said, “MacLaughlin never took off his jacket after the murder. He was sitting there the whole time, wearing it!”

“He had the bloody shirt on under it during the first interrogation,” Joe realized, grimacing at the thought. “Why didn't he just get rid of
it?” he asked as Frank pulled onto the avenue that led to Kailua Hospital. “It would've been easy to stuff it in any trash container in Kailua.”

“The shirt might have been found and traced back to him,” Frank pointed out. “From the time of the murder on, remember, MacLaughlin was incredibly busy. He was probably waiting for a free moment to get rid of the shirt once and for all Only that moment never came.”

“But why would he kill Ebersol, Frank?” Joe demanded. “MacLaughlin obviously loved his work. Why would he kill the man who gave him his greatest opportunities?”

“We'll have to find that out from MacLaughlin,” Frank said as they pulled into the hospital's parking lot.

Joe could see Kanekahana pacing in front of the entrance, waiting for them.

“Well, you two, I have some interesting news,” he said, smiling broadly as Joe and Frank strode toward him. “It turns out that Michele Ebersol was in cahoots with De La Rosa after all.”

“What?” Joe and Frank shouted in unison.

“You were right, Joe,” Kanekahana said, smiling. “She must have given my guys the slip at some point yesterday afternoon.”

“But, Captain,” Frank said, almost shouting, “MacLaughlin's your murderer, not Michele!”

“I've got proof of Michele's guilt,” Kanekahana assured them. “Rock-solid proof.”

“But we've got proof of MacLaughlin's guilt!” Joe said, confused.

Kanekahana waved his hand dismissively. “My men found the radio control for a car bomb hidden behind a dresser at her house,” he told them. “Her fingerprints are on it. Add to that the fact that she was the one with the best opportunity to kill her husband and I think you'll see—just as any jury will see—that Michèle—”

“Wait, Captain,” Frank said. “If you'll just let us show you our evidence, you might change your mind.”

The captain shook his head. “Go ahead,” he said with a shrug. “I'm listening.”

“Let's start with this then.” Joe handed the stunned captain the bloody shirt they'd found.

“And when you're done with that,” Frank added, “we've got a videotape to show you. You've seen it before, but I think you'll be surprised at a little something we all missed the first time around.”

A few minutes later Frank was pacing restlessly as Joe and an officer fumbled with wires and cables, setting up the VCR they'd brought
to MacLaughlin's hospital room. MacLaughlin, who was dressed and ready to leave the hospital at noon, sat on the edge of his bed, looking uncomfortable.

“I see you're better this morning, Mr. MacLaughlin,” the captain said cheerfully. “The doctor says you're fit as a fiddle and ready to leave.”

“Which is just what I'd like to do now,” MacLaughlin replied nervously. “I don't see why you're in such a hurry to look at my videotape, or even why you're here, Captain.”

‘Oh, I'm very interested in science,” the captain replied. “Let's get started, shall we? Ready with that tape, Joe?”

Joe popped in the tape and flicked on the TV.

“Here we are at the beginning of the eclipse,” Frank said as the startling images came on. “You sure did a great job of programming the computer image enhancement, Mr. MacLaughlin. There's no doubt at all about the ring of debris.”

“I always knew it would be there,” MacLaughlin said, staring at his work.

“Joe and I were fooling around last night and intercut our roll of photos with your last two and a half minutes of video,” Frank said. “I think you'll be interested in this. Each of our photos has a time marker, as you can see.”

Everyone in the room was silent as the tape ran, but Frank noticed that MacLaughlin was growing more and more fidgety.

The darkened sun on the last part of the videotape began to be interrupted by the images the Hardys had taken. The eclipsed sun was remarkably similar on the photos, and yet, subtly different from the videotaped images. Frank wondered if MacLaughlin had guessed yet what they were up to with their little demonstration.

“Well, there's the proof,” Frank said at one point, staring at the image of a ring wrapping around the eclipsed sun. “Proof that there was once another planet in our solar system.”

“I'm a bit of a novice at this,” Kanekahana said, sitting down next to MacLaughlin on the bed. “Would you mind explaining it to me, Mr. MacLaughlin?”

“Be happy to,” MacLaughlin said. “You see, for years the evidence was there for anyone who cared to look—the subtle irregularities in the orbits of the other planets that made no sense unless there had once been another planet among them. It's like a dance with many performers when one of the dancers is missing. The clues are there, but it takes a careful, unbiased observer to realize that someone is no longer there.”