Dead on Target (7 page)

"When, Sir Nigel, we have some questions," Frank said. "We came here after the Assassins. Have any more been caught?"

"Frankly, no," Sir Nigel said. "We found the tunnel they used. hard to miss, actually. They used too much explosive to seal off the digging and blew out one of the nearby roads. Blasted thing went three blocks to an abandoned building. Well outside the cordon we'd drawn up."

“So they got away,” Joe said, disappointed.

"From that building, yes. From London . . . well, that's another story. We've sealed the city. Buses, motorways, airports, even the shipping routes are being watched."

"You're saying it's impossible for them to escape?" Frank asked.

Sir Nigel shook his head. "Not impossible but very dangerous. If they want to escape arrest, they'll have to lie low for the time being."

"That means they won't be able to have much to do with whatever is going on in Bayport," Frank said. "I suppose that's a win."

"And you've already cost Al-Rousasa the reinforcements he was expecting-that pair who tried to hijack your plane," Perkins pointed out.

"That's a victory, too." He smiled. "In case you're wondering, the people who were on the flight with you are now arriving in London - a little stiff from having to sit around in the plane so long, but otherwise safe and sound."

"The surviving hijacker can't tell us anything more about the planned terror campaign in the U.S.," Sir Nigel said. "We've passed everything we found on to your government.

"But the question still remains-what about you?" His face grew serious as he went on. "Perkins told me a bit about your backgrounds and why you've involved yourselves in this case. I tell you frankly, I don't approve of people with personal axes to grind."

"So what do you figure on doing?" Joe cut in. "Do you want to keep us here?" His scowl clearly showed what he thought of that idea.

"Sir Nigel," Frank said more diplomatically, "if you've informed the American authorities of what's going on, maybe you should send us back to Bayport so that we can" - he paused for a second - "give whatever assistance we can."

"What are you talking about? ’Give whatever assistance we can’?' Joe burst out. "I want to kill - " A look from Frank silenced him.

"Um, I mean, I really want to see this Al-Rousasa caught," Joe said. "And if there's anything I can do to help-" "We do know the town," Frank put in.

Sir Nigel gazed at them seriously. "Under the Official Secrets Act, I'd be quite within my rights to keep you. But under the circumstances, I'll accept your promise to tell no one - no one about what took place after you left Bayport."

He smiled suddenly. "I can see that you both feel strongly about getting home. And that was Perkins's suggestion as well."

He picked up an envelope from his desk. "These tickets are for the next flight. Somehow, I suspected - you'd want to be on it."

Frank took the tickets gratefully. "You're right, Sir Nigel. Thank you."

Perkins was just opening the door for them when they heard a disturbance in the outer office.

"I demand to see Sir Nigel!" a voice cried angrily. "That collapsed building was a safe house for the Assassins, and I want to know - "

Frank recognized the voice and quickly shut the door.

"That's Dad," Joe whispered. "What do we do now?"

"Sir Nigel," Frank said, "I think we have a problem." Quickly he explained Fenton Hardy's arrangements for them and where they were supposed to be. "So if our father finds us here, we'll give away the whole show."

"Well, you are heading home now," Sir Nigel said with a conspiratorial smile. "Perkins, why don't you go out there and talk to Mr. Hardy? In the meantime, I'll show the boys the other exit from the office."

On the flight home, the Hardys talked quietly about their narrow escape.

"If Dad had seen us coming out of that office, he'd have skinned us alive," Joe said.

Frank nodded. "It's just lucky that we heard him before he saw us."

"He didn't seem happy," Joe went on. "Maybe his investigation isn't coming along too well."

"No better than ours, I guess." Frank closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

"Well, Dad's got a tighter schedule than we have, Frank. He can't stay undercover forever. There's that big Walker rally at the mall. He's the head of security. He'll have to be there."

Frank's eyes snapped open. "What idiots we've been," he said, breathing hard. "What?" Joe said.

"A bombing at the mall. What connection does it have to Iola? Why was she at the mall?" Frank turned to his brother, who was staring at him doubtfully. "Joe, what do we know about this Al-Rousasa?" "He's an Assassin. A heavy hitter never misses." "Besides that," Frank said. "Remember what that guy we caught told us." Joe pulled his brows together as he thought. "He was supposed to be in America to run a big terror campaign.” "And?" Frank prompted. "And what?"

"That campaign had its timing thrown off by a special job." Frank shook his head. "Don't you see?"

"See what?"

"Iola-all of us-were at the mall for a dress rehearsal of Philip Walker's appearance this Saturday. Suppose that bomb in our car was a dress rehearsal, too. Suppose Al-Rousasa was practicing how he'd assassinate Philip Walker!"

FRANK HARDY'S FIRST question on landing at the airport was, "Where's the phone?" Joe stared in surprise. "Phone? I thought we were going to get right in the car and ... oh - “

"Right," Frank said. "No car."

Joe jingled the change in his pockets. "And not enough money for a cab."

Frank led the way to a pay phone. "I'm going to see if I can get hold of Callie. She'll give us a lift. And then our first stop is the police station."

Frank made the call; then he and Joe waited for Callie. Frank looked impatiently at his watch until Callie's green Nova finally pulled up. "Frank! Joe!" she called. "Where have you guys been? I've been trying to call - "

Frank gave her a quick kiss. "I can't explain right now, but we've got to get to the police station.”

Callie's dark eyes narrowed in concern when she heard their destination. "We're going to be cutting it mighty close," she said as they got in. "The day shift ends right now."

The street in front of the station was jammed with patrol cars. "Looks like the changing of the guard," Frank said as Callie pulled up at the corner.

He and Joe piled out. "Let's just hope the people we've got to see haven't left yet.”

They ran through the big double doors and across the corridor to the desk officer. "Excuse me," Frank said. "I'd like to talk to whoever is handling the security for Saturday's rally at the mall.”

The man behind the desk was a stranger. "Look, boys, right now isn't the best time - "

Behind him a door opened, and Con Riley stepped out, dressed in street clothes. "Hi, boys," he said when he noticed Frank and Joe. Seeing the frustrated look on their faces, he turned to the man behind the desk. "Aw, stop giving them a hard time, Jerry. I know these guys."

"They want to see the man in charge of security for the mall rally," Jerry told Con.

"Oh. I'll take 'em." Con's face was unreadable as he led the Hardys into the Detective Division-and over to the door marked S. BUTLER.

"Oh, no," Joe moaned.

"He's in charge of security?" Frank said.

"Well, it's his specialty," Con replied. "He ran the detail that guarded the United Nations in New York." He rushed on. "He's a tough cop, but a good one. He - " "Does anyone here like him?" Joe asked. "He's a good cop-" Riley began again. "That's not what I asked." Joe looked Con in the eye. Con looked back. "No," he answered finally. "Most of us think he's a real pain in the - "

The door opened, and Butler stepped out. "What's all the noise out here?" He stopped when he saw Frank and Joe. "Oh. It's you two. Have a nice vacation, boys?" Although his poker face was still in place, Butler's voice dripped sarcasm.

"Inspector, we've got to talk with you." Frank stepped forward. Con Riley instantly took the opportunity to fade back.

"I can't tell you how honored I am that you decided to drop by," Butler said, cutting Frank off. His shook his finger, nearly jabbing Frank's face. "I told you not to leave town. And what's the first thing you do? Pull strings and disappear. Maybe some of the dumb hicks around here will take that, but not a real cop."

Butler grabbed Frank by the arm and pulled him into his office. "You too, bright eyes," he said to Joe.

Frank spun out of Butler's grip as soon as they were in the office. "Inspector, you're running security for the rally on Saturday. We think someone's going to try to kill Philip Walker there."

"Oh, you do?" Butler's tone was frankly mocking. "Do you know who?"

"An international terrorist organization called the Assassins. They've sent one of their best men, Al-Rousasa, over here to run a series of terror attacks in American cities. But he was switched to a special project-right after Philip Walker began talking about fighting terrorists." Frank looked at Butler, who had walked to his desk and leaned against it.

The inspector's arms were crossed over his chest, and his face gave nothing away. Trying to convince that expressionless face was the hardest thing Frank had ever done.

"This rally at the mall is a big thing for Walker's campaign. There'll be lots of media coverage, and lots of his supporters will be there. But-it will also be the perfect event for a terrorist. I'm certain that Al-Rousasa is aiming for it.

"Look at how many supplies have disappeared from the mall recently," Frank went on as he showed Butler the list in his notebook. "I think the bombing of our car was just preparation for what will happen on Saturday."

Butler still didn't move. "And what do you expect me to do?"

"Search the mall," Joe put in eagerly. "We can still move before the terrorist does."

"Let me get this straight," Butler said, pacing in front of them. "You think this guy blew up your girlfriend so he could get in a little practice on killing Philip Walker? That's how he's going to spend his Saturday?

"Now," he went on, "what I should do is get every cop in town to turn the mall upside down before the big rally. I've got just one question. Do you think this terrorist might escape on a UFO?”

Butler whirled to face the Hardys, his expression becoming angry for a moment, then grimacing, then going mask like again. "How stupid do you think I am?" Butler shouted. "I knew you'd I come up with some sort of cock-and-bull story to beat the rap on getting that girl killed. But this one wins the prize!"

"Inspector," Frank said, "we're telling you the truth.”

"Oh, sure," Butler said. "You have any proof of this little fairy tale? Somebody to back you up? Evidence? Something a little better than a list in your notebook?"

"We - " Frank stopped. He couldn't reveal anything that had happened in London. He and Joe had made a promise to Sir Nigel. And there was no way the Gray Man could speak for them. "You could call - " Again he stopped. He could just imagine Butler's response to being told about British Intelligence.

"Well, you could talk to our father," Joe finally said.

"Oh, great. Are you sure Daddy will put in a good word for his darling boys? And where do I get in touch with the great Fenton Hardy? I've been trying to talk to him for days."

Joe bowed his head “We - uh - don't know." "That's really great, Sherlock." Butler turned his back on them. "Get out of here before I throw you out."

Once again, Frank and Joe found themselves storming out of Butler's office.

"Come on," said Frank, leading the way down a corridor. "We've got to go over this clown's head." But when they reached Chief Collig's office, the lights were out.

"Hey!" said a voice behind them. Jerry, the desk cop, came hurrying forward. "What do you two think you're doing?"

"We need to see Chief Collig," Joe said. "Well, you'll see him tomorrow," the policeman replied. "He's left for the day." "Great," Joe muttered as Jerry marched them outside.

Frank rushed over to the green Nova. "Callie," he asked, "did you see Chief Collig leave?"

"Yup," she replied. "Just a couple of minutes ago." "Think you can catch up with him?" Frank asked as he and Joe climbed in. "Let's find out." Callie hit the gas and pulled smoothly away from the curve.

The chief's route home took him away from downtown Bayport, along the Shore Road. As soon as they were out of traffic, Callie started speeding up. Far ahead, they saw a pair of tail lights - taillights that grew rapidly nearer. "It's a cop car," Callie said.

"It has to be the chief's," Joe agreed. "Flash your lights at him," said Frank. "We've got to get his attention."

"The way we're speeding, I think we've got his attention," Callie said. Still, she flicked her headlight control.

The blinker on top of the police car began to revolve as it headed to the side of the road. "All right, pull over," said a voice over the car's loudspeaker.

When Frank and Joe got out of the car, they found the chief's chauffeur standing in the beams of Callie's headlights, his hand on his pistol butt. "Chief," Frank called out, "I've got to talk with you.”

"What the - " Chief Ezra Collig stepped out. "Frank and Joe Hardy! What do you think you're doing, driving around like maniacs?" "We had to catch up with you, Chief," Frank said.

"It's important," Joe added. "Have you found out something about Iola Morton?" Collig asked. "Yes. But it's even bigger," Frank said. He explained about the Assassins and about his suspicions that the Walker rally could come under attack. "It would be a massacre," he finished. "We've got to search that mall."

Chief Collig's face was serious. "You won't like to hear this, boys," he said. "But I can understand why Butler reacted the way he did. You don't have any evidence." He shook his head helplessly. "You want me to put all my men on a time-consuming job just on your say so." "Chief-" said Joe.

"You've done a lot of good work, but you just don't know what you're asking this time." Chief Collig started walking back to his car. "If you had anyone to back you up - your father, for instance. . ."