Double Exposure (11 page)

Ludvik—the man who'd posed as the elevator operator the night before at Video Imaging—was tapping on the back window. He smiled when he saw he'd gotten Joe's attention.

"What the — " Joe began.

Then he saw the cigarette lighter in Ludvik's right hand. The STB man flicked it, sending a small flame shooting up into the air.

Still smiling, he kicked in the window, tossing the lighter into the kitchen.

Joe threw his hands over his face.

But that didn't stop the explosion that followed.

FRANK SAW JOE HURTLING toward him — then a ball of hot air slammed him against the wall.

A split second later the entire room erupted into fire.

He struggled to his feet.

Joe was sprawled against one wall.

Fenton Hardy lay on the floor, pinned under a huge bookcase that had toppled over. Chris had been thrown clear. Flames were already licking at the bookcase.

Joe's eyes flickered open, and he began to cough. "Frank, what — "

"Help me!" Frank cried. "We've got to get this bookcase off Dad!"

Joe staggered to his feet.

"Mr. Hardy! Frank! Joe!" The Beast was at the window. "Are you all right?"

"Larry—get in here! We need your help!" Frank yelled. He knelt beside his father. Fenton Hardy's eyes were shut, and blood trickled from a small gash on his forehead.

Larry climbed gingerly in through the window.

"Come on, come on," Frank called impatiently. The room was already starting to fill with smoke.

Joe and the Beast knelt beside him.

"Don't try to pick this thing up," Frank said. "Let's just lift it a little, and roll him out from under it. Together — one, two, three, lift!"

The bookcase didn't move.

"Too heavy," the Beast said, coughing. It was getting hard to breathe in the room.

"Take some of these books out!" Frank frantically began scooping books from the shelves and throwing them to the side.

"Again!" Frank yelled. They lifted the bookcase up a few inches.

Frank rolled his father out from underneath.

"Joe—take Chris." Frank's voice was raw as he picked up his father, slinging him over his shoulder. He opened the front door and staggered out onto the front lawn.

Fenton Hardy began coughing.

"Easy, Dad," Frank said. "You'll be all right." A group of students who must have been in the other apartments in the building crowded around.

"Don't just stand there!" Frank yelled. "Get the fire department!"

"Frank!" Joe and the Beast came out of the apartment, carrying Chris. They lay him on the ground next to Fenton Hardy. Joe collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. "Frank, there's a woman in the kitchen, unconscious!"

Frank glanced back at Chris's apartment. Smoke was billowing out through the front window.

Frank stood. "Keep the crowd back — I'm going in after her."

"Be careful!" Joe called out, struggling to his feet.

Frank nodded, bent low, and went in the front door.

He could barely see two feet ahead of him now — the fire was everywhere. He dropped to the floor to avoid the smoke and began slithering on his stomach in the direction of the kitchen.

How could the woman have survived? he asked himself.

And who was she, anyway?

Pushing that question to the back of his mind — there'd be time enough to answer it later, assuming there was a later — he moved forward. The heat grew more intense. He expected at any moment to feel the hot flames actually singe his hand.

Then he touched something so unexpected that he almost jumped to his feet.

Water!

He squinted and peered into the smoke.

The explosion had ripped some water pipes loose. Water was spraying every were around the kitchen, and a small shower of it had formed a puddle around—Jean Eykis!

He pulled her to him, and turned back toward the front door.

"What's taking him so long?" Joe asked, sitting on the front lawn beside his father. Chris had yet to stir, but his father had come around a few seconds ago and immediately started coughing. Larry had run off to look for some water for him. "Shouldn't have let him go in there, Joe," his father said.

"Could you have stopped him, Dad?" Joe asked. "You know how hard it is to get Frank to change his mind once he's got it set on something." Joe spoke lightly, but he was worried. Frank had been gone almost a minute. The whole house was on fire now, flames and smoke billowing out of every window.

"I'm going in there after him, Dad," Joe said.

"No, wait," his father said, holding up his hand. They heard sirens in the distance, and a few seconds later a fire engine roared to a stop in front of the house.

"About time," Joe said. "Come on!" he yelled, rushing up to the firemen. "My brother's still in there!"

"All right," one said. He waved to the men behind him. "Let's go!"

Suddenly there was a huge roar behind them, like a clap of thunder. Joe turned. The building shuddered and leaned to one side.

"The crossbeams are giving way!" the fireman in charge shouted. The house shuddered again and collapsed forward. "Everybody back!"

"Frank!" Joe yelled and started toward the house.

"Easy, kid," the fireman grabbed his shoulder. "Nobody could have survived that."

"No!" Joe shouted, struggling free of the fireman's grasp. "Let me go!"

He shoved the fireman aside and moved forward.

"I appreciate the thought, but there's no one in there to save, Joe."

He turned. Frank stood behind him, holding Eykis in his arms.

"We had to go out the back," Frank said. "The flames cut us off." He smiled. "It's nice to know you care, though."

"It's not just that," Joe replied, trying hard not to let his relief show through. "You still owe me for the pizza."

"I thought you were headed for Video Imaging," Considine said, handing Fenton Hardy a bandage. The lieutenant had come as soon as he'd heard the report of the fire—and who was involved—over his radio.

"We were," Fenton said, wrapping it around his hand. "But something else came up." He filled Considine in.

"So now we've got to look out for this Ludvik guy, too," he said. He turned back to Frank and Joe. They were sitting on the street curb beside Chris, who had finally come around. An ambulance crew had arrived and had passed out bandages and oxygen to those who had been in the fire. They were still attending to Eykis—but it looked as if she was going to be all right, too.

"How's your friend, boys?"

"I'm all right, Lieutenant," Chris said.

"He's been filling in some of the missing pieces to the story," Frank explained.

"Last night at Video Imaging," Chris continued. "I started to follow you down the stairs — then someone smashed something over my head. The next thing I knew, I was in my own apartment with Gregor bending over me."

Frank smiled. "I knew you didn't run out on us."

Their father came and stood over the three of them.

"Hello, Chris," he said.

"Hello, Mr. Hardy," Chris replied. "It's been a long time."

Fenton nodded.

"I guess I've made an awful mess of things, haven't I?" Chris stared at the street in front of him.

"Nothing we can't fix, I hope," Fenton replied. "But how did you get mixed up with Krc and Liehm in the first place?"

"They came to me," Chris said, finally raising his gaze to meet Fenton Hardy's. "You see, I was doing some—things—for some friends of mine at school." He glanced over quickly at the Beast, who glanced quickly at Frank and Joe.

"The phony ID ring," Considine grumbled. "I'll want to talk to you some more about this, young man. You have a lot of people on campus very upset. I hear there may be someone else involved in this as well, Larry," he said to the Beast.

Larry gulped.

Chris continued his story. "Liehm heard about what I was doing with the imager, I guess, and came to me to help him with this project he was starting. It was an incredible opportunity, they had a lot of money backing them up. I worked for almost a year with that crazy spy film — "

' 'Deadly Deception," Joe said. "Right, and when that came out so well, Liehm said they were going to do something else using the techniques I'd developed, and if I didn't help they'd turn me in to the police for the phony ID stuff I'd done!"

"What made you decide to stop them?" Frank asked.

"Seeing Janosik speak," Chris said. "I know it sounds corny, but — "

Joe smiled. "It doesn't sound corny at all."

"Why were you pretending to be our brother?" Frank asked.

Chris shrugged. "That's an ID I've been using for a while. I did up the driver's license, the City Hall documents to show how much could be done. I guess I'd always had a secret wish that," — he looked up at Fenton Hardy — "well, that ... "

"I understand," Fenton said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"But why'd you run away that first night?" Frank asked.

"Because I didn't want to see you get killed! Your parents ... " He swallowed. "The time I spent with them — I just couldn't bear to be responsible if anything happened to you, for what it would have done to them." He smiled weakly. "So that's it—the whole story "All right, Chris," Fenton said. "You'd better rest now." He turned to Considine. "Where's Janosik now?"

"He's speaking with a group of reporters — just the local press and TV people."

"Wait a minute," Frank said. "Jean Eykis is with the Tribune."

"Yeah, that's right," Considine said. "Gene Eykis. I checked his credentials myself before we allowed him to enter the room with Janosik."

"No," Frank said, a sudden chill running down his back. "You don't understand."

He pointed at the woman who lay unconscious on the stretcher.

"That's Jean Eykis!"

CONSIDINE STARED FOR A MOMENT.

"Then who's with — oh, no." His eyes widened.

"Oh, yes," Frank said. "Gregor. It has to be." He described the man.

"That's him," Considine agreed. "But how could — "

Joe jerked a thumb at Chris. Considine snapped his fingers.

"That's why he brought me here," Chris realized. "He must have used the equipment in my other apartment to fake her press card."

"And that's why she was here," Frank said. "So she'd be out of the way." He looked up at Considine. "He means to kill Janosik, Lieutenant."

Considine got on the police radio. "Get me Mitchell — he's at the JFK Center symposium. And I mean now!"

He turned back to the Hardys, "All of you — Chris, Frank, Joe, that includes you—get in my car. I'll want you there to help us identify him and the other men."

The three nodded and hopped in the back seat. Their father got in the front on the passenger side. Larry was sent home in a squad car.

"Mitchell, this is Considine. Don't talk, just listen. Stay close to Janosik — got that? One of the reporters there is the guy we want. He's going by the name Gene Eykis. I'll be there in five minutes."

"He replaced the handset and climbed in the front seat.

"Fasten your seat belts, boys," he said, switching on the siren. Considine slammed the car into gear, leaving behind the firemen to fight the still-smoldering blaze.

When they arrived, the JFK Center was chaos. Demonstrators surrounded the entire complex, brought there by the news that Janosik was a CIA plant.

"If only they knew the truth," Joe said as they pulled up across the street.

"They'll find out soon enough," Considine said, getting out of the car. "That isn't going to help us right now, unfortunately. We're going to have to go through them to get to Janosik."

He forced a path through the demonstrators— and they followed in his wake. Frank hoped the walls of the lecture hall inside were thick enough so that Janosik couldn't hear what the demonstrators were saying about him.

Finally, they reached the door to the library-lecture hall complex. A guard waved them in, holding back the fringes of the crowd. "They're in the reception hall upstairs. Second door on your left, Lieutenant "Thanks, Johnson." Considine clapped the man on the shoulder and led them up the stairs. Inside the hall they found Janosik mingling with reporters and other members of the symposium. Considine's partner Mitchell stood quietly at his side. There was a small podium set up at the far end of the room, where Janosik would take questions from the press later.

"I don't see Krc," Considine said, frowning. "Are any of the others here?"

Frank looked the room over. It was almost as crowded in there as it had been outside. He shook his head, as did Joe and Chris.

"No sign of them, Lieutenant," Frank said, speaking for all three of them.

"Stick close to Janosik, then." He motioned to Fenton Hardy, and the two of them went off to check the hall.

Janosik smiled when he caught sight of the Hardys.

"Frank and Joe," he said, shaking hands with each of them enthusiastically. "I'm very glad to see you again."

"And we're glad to see you, too, sir," Frank put in.

Just then the catcalls of the demonstrators outside got very loud. They were saying some very cruel things about Alexander Janosik.

"Free speech," Janosik said ruefully, trying to make light of the moment. "It is a wonderful thing to see in action—no matter what the cause."

"We know you haven't done anything wrong, sir," Frank began. Joe nodded his agreement. "That's partially why we're here."

Janosik's eyes glistened. "I am glad you believe me." He frowned. "This tape—Liehm showed it to me. I do not understand how he did it, but it is preposterous! Never would I take money from the CIA."

Chris spoke up for the first time. "I'm afraid that it's my fault you're in all this trouble."

"Oh?" Janosik raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"

"This is Chris Bayer, Mr. Janosik," Frank said.

Janosik bowed his head slightly. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Bayer."

Chris explained what he had done. When he was through, Janosik shook his head gently. "That is not your fault, Chris." He smiled. "You were weak, when you perhaps should have been strong, but to say this is your fault is nonsense. I know whose fault this is."