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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: Eye on Crime
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• • •

While Frank was using the whole building for his game of cat and mouse, Joe kept his chase confined to a smaller area. He used his speed to stay ahead of his pursuer. Unfortunately, when Joe entered the ninth-floor stairwell, he had picked up two tails.

“Aww, does that mean you can't find my brother?” Joe said to the tan thug. “I'll try to move more slowly for you.” Then Joe poured on the speed and sprinted up the stairs. Both thugs lumbered several yards behind him.

If Frank wiggled free, Joe thought, there's only one place he's going. Sure enough, as Joe led his two chasers on a grueling climb of flight after flight of stairs, Joe heard a groan ahead of him.

“What hit me?” a voice said. There was the sound of footsteps a flight above Joe.

“Frank!” Joe called as he ran. “I want to lose these guys for good.”

“Up here!” Frank called to his brother. When Joe hit the next landing, he went through the stairwell door and into the hallway on the thirteenth floor. Just ahead of him, he saw Frank
standing at the bank of elevators, Monty Andrews leaning heavily against him. Joe sprinted to join his brother. As he reached the elevators, he could see that Frank was pressing the button so that both cars were held open. Joe stuck his head into the car on the left and pressed the buttons for every floor. Then he got into the other elevator car with his brother and Monty Andrews. Frank continued to hold both elevators open.

Two seconds later both thugs came into the hallway.

“We held the elevator for you,” Frank called as he let go of the button. He ducked his head inside the right-hand elevator car as the door began to close. The poorly dressed thug reached the bank of elevators just as both doors closed.

“You could always take the stairs!” Joe hollered. Then he slumped against the wall, letting his hot muscles unwind.

“Do you think we lost them?” Frank asked.

“Thirteen more flights of running stairs?” Joe replied. “They probably gave up for now.”

When the elevator reached the lobby, Frank cautiously poked his head out into the corridor.

“Coast looks clear,” he said, taking a wary step out of the elevator. He looked around again. Satisfied that the two thugs had not yet reached the ground floor, Frank motioned to his brother.

When the trio made it out of the building, Frank led the still groggy television celebrity to the van.
He pushed Monty inside, and then he and Joe got in. Joe started the engine and pulled out into the sparse downtown traffic.

“Okay, time to answer some questions,” Frank said to Monty Andrews.

“Wha . . . Who . . .” Monty rubbed his abdomen. “Hey, you're those two—wait, I never forget a face.”

“The Hardys,” Joe said.

“Yeah.” Monty snapped his fingers. “The kid detectives from the show.” Monty suddenly turned pale. “Hey! Where are you taking me?” he asked with a shaky voice.

Frank and Joe remained silent, letting the fear grow in the entertainer.

“What do you want with me?” Monty ventured.

“To confess to robbing those jewelry stores!” Joe spat.

“I was afraid this was going to happen,” Monty said, trembling.

“What, that you'd get caught?” Frank asked.

“No, that I'd get blamed.” Monty hung his head in shame.

“You'd better start making some sense,” Joe threatened.

“I-I'm not behind those robberies,” Monty stammered. “But I think I may be responsible.”

Frank stared icily at the television star. Monty gulped.

“Come on, what are you going to do to me?” he asked, but the brothers remained silent.

“Okay, look,” Monty said. “I think the real thief is Ronald Johnson. I think he set me up.”

“So far the only people who've been set up are some friends of ours,” Joe said.

“Johnson,” Frank cut in. “He owns Eye Spy Security.”

“That's right,” Monty replied. “That's where I was when those goons, Louie Spicolli and Larry Zybysko, grabbed me. I went there because I saw the newspaper and I realized that both sets of teens that landed in jail had been hypnotized by me the evenings of the robberies. I think Johnson is using them somehow to make these heists. When I confronted him, Johnson unleashed Spicolli and Zybysko.”

“So far you both sound guilty,” Joe said. “What's your connection to Johnson?”

“I'm into him for a lot of money. The guy's a loan shark. He kept letting me run up the interest on my loan. Then when I hit it big with
Monty Mania,
he decided to call in the marker. But by then my debt was huge, much more than I could pay all at once. He made me a deal.”

“And what was the deal?” Frank asked.

“He wanted me to give some of the people I hypnotized special instructions. It was purely by chance whom he chose. Or so I thought. Now I'm
thinking there was something particular about these people, but I don't know what.”

“The teen gang theory,” Joe stated. Frank nodded in agreement.

“What? Anyway, sometimes Johnson would coach me before the show on how he wanted me to do my routines. He wanted a lot of young guests. And he wanted the hypnotism routines to contain a lot of mystery and action. It sounded like good, solid entertainment, so I integrated his suggestions into the act. Anyway, after some performances, he would meet me backstage and have me give posthypnotic instructions to some of the guests.”

“What were the instructions?” Frank asked.

“Seemed innocent enough. He wanted them to go to the park, make sure that nobody followed them, and to stay out of sight for several hours. He told me to do it, and I didn't ask any questions. He owns me!”

“So how does this all fit together?” Joe asked. “Ronald Johnson, legitimate businessman and loan shark, uses a two-bit hypnotist to give innocent teenagers weird instructions on what to do onstage and where to go later that night. I'm not sure I'm buying any of this.”

“I don't know how this ties into the robberies,” Monty said. “Maybe Johnson goes to the park and snatches the kids and uses the influence of my hypnosis to get them to hit the stores.”

“Great,” frank said. “The hypnotism probably doesn't leave any telltale traces that can be used to prove the robbers weren't in their right minds when they did the crime.”

“So, we know how Johnson might be doing it,” Joe said, “but that doesn't help us catch him.”

“Oh, yes it does,” Frank said as the van pulled into the television station parking lot. “It gives me an idea on how to nail Ronald Johnson at his own game.”

12 Caught in the Act

“So how do we nail him?” Joe asked.

“He's looking for actors.” Frank smirked. “Teenage actors. Like us.”

Joe gave his brother a questioning look. Then he nodded his head.

“So where do I fit in?” Monty asked.

“You're going to put us on your show,” Frank said.

“What!” Joe was taken by surprise by his brother's request. But he immediately recovered and backed up his brother. “What a great idea.”

“We'll be your next teens chosen from the audience,” Frank explained. “Then let's see if this Ronald Johnson comes after us.”

Joe stopped the van at the back door to the television studio.

“Are we agreed?” he asked.

“Okay, sure.” Monty reached into his jacket and pulled out two tickets to his show. “I guess I owe you guys for saving me up on that roof. You're on Monday.”

“Good,” Frank said. “Make it four tickets.” The performer produced two more tickets. Frank opened the van door and let Monty out onto the sidewalk.

“Just for the record,” Joe said, “which goon is which?”

“Zybysko's the one with the tan,” Monty replied.

“Thanks,” Joe said.

“Hey, what about my car?” Monty cried. “It's still downtown. And what if Spicolli and Zybysko try to grab me again.”

“Catch a cab to get the car,” Joe shouted as he put the van in gear. “And as for those two goons, I doubt they'll be after you again. Johnson probably just wanted them to scare you.”

When they were away from the studio, Joe questioned his brother.

“Why do we want to be on the show?”

“Because it's the best way to see how things operate around there. And I want to stick close to Monty.”

“So you don't buy the whole Ronald Johnson story?” Joe asked.

“I buy into most of it,” Frank replied. “But I think Monty's in it with him.”

“But now Monty's scared that Johnson will have him killed,” Joe said.

“Hey, robbery and frame-up is a dirty business. But big money makes for strange partners. I figure Monty will be back in on the scam either to make more dough or to save his own hide.”

• • •

The Hardy brothers spent the rest of the weekend in relative serenity. They checked in on Callie and Iola and brought the girls up to speed on their investigation. The rest of the weekend was spent doing homework and catching up on lost sleep, except for the time Frank did a background check on Ronald Johnson.

Frank fired up the computer Sunday night and surfed the Internet. He visited Eye Spy Security's Web site, where he learned that the company provided security for countless businesses in Bayport. Their systems were state of the art. In fact, Eye Spy prided itself on using cameras of such high quality that even some television studios used them for inexpensive video filming.

“I wouldn't be surprised to learn later that Eye Spy Security provides cameras for the
Monty Mania
production,” Frank speculated. “That would give Johnson fast access to the film he wanted to splice into the surveillance camera footage at the stores.”

As for Ronald Johnson himself, there was very little to be learned. He had graduated from a small-town business college, had no police record, and supposedly built Eye Spy from scratch. Some intense creative research did unveil that he was a distant relative of a small-time New York crime boss, but other than blood, there was nothing to tie Ronald Johnson into anything shady.

“Still,” Joe pointed out, “that could be where the loan shark money originally came from. Then he turned that money into Eye Spy.”

“Possibly. And being a security expert would help him get inside any place he wanted to rob. Especially places for which he provided the security system.”

• • •

At school on Monday, Frank and Joe gathered Callie, the Mortons, and Tony Prito together. The group sat in the cafeteria at their usual table by the window.

“Okay, the timing is going to be tight,” Joe said. “We have baseball practice after school, so Frank and I will have to rush over to the station.” He took two tickets out of his pocket and handed one to Chet and one to Tony. “You two meet us inside. Get there early and see if you can get close to Monty Andrews, like you're autograph hounds or something. Better yet, say you're doing a story for the school newspaper. He's such a ham, you might
be able to get him talking. Maybe you can pick up some buzz backstage.”

“Hey, where are our tickets?” Iola asked.

“At first we were thinking Callie and Iola would go to the show with us,” Frank replied. “But I think seeing two of his former victims might spook Monty or Ronald Johnson.”

“So we get left out in the cold?” Callie sounded very disappointed.

“Exactly,” Frank said. “We need you to park and hold the space next to you for us. Then we want you stationed at that back entrance to the studio, where the guests come out after the show.”

“This is important,” Joe continued. “You're our safety net. If we're given a posthypnotic suggestion to get out of sight for a while, your job is to stay right on top of us wherever we go.”

“Should we go with you in the van?” Iola asked.

“No,” Joe said. “Just in case the crooks are keeping tabs on us to make sure they can pull off a robbery, we want them to think they're in the clear. You'll have to be very discreet in following us.”

“What should Tony and I do after the show?” Chet asked.

“Go to our house and wait for us there,” Frank replied. “If the setup is anything like what happened with Callie and Iola, we'll be long gone from the studio before you could get outside to
your car. But our house will give you a base from which to back all of us up if we need you.”

With the plans wrapped up, they all went their separate ways for the afternoon. They met for one more pep talk after classes. Then Frank and Joe went to baseball practice. A grueling two hours later, the Hardys were in the locker room, washing their aching muscles in the shower.

“Man, the coach sure put us through some workout for the first day,” Joe said.

“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “He found out that Shoreham started practice last week, so he wants to make up for lost time.”

The brothers finished their showers, got dressed, and drove over to the television studio. The parking lot was almost completely full. They circled the rows of cars until they found Callie and Iola, standing in an empty parking space next to Callie's car.

“People must have loved you two,” Joe said. “This is the last spot.”

“A wink and a smile does wonders,” Callie replied. “Even for some poor guy looking for a parking space.”

The brothers ran into the studio while the girls took up their station by the back door of the building.

Inside, Frank and Joe found their seats next to Tony and Chet.

“Get anything?” Frank asked.

“Some autographed pictures,” Tony said. “And a look at somebody we think is Ronald Johnson.”

“Black hair, small pug nose, wide, round blue eyes?” asked Frank.

“Yeah,” Chet replied.

“That's him,” Frank said. “His picture was on the Eye Spy Web site.”

“Yeah, well, as soon as he showed up, Monty shooed off the fans who were backstage. Johnson wanted to talk to him. Monty didn't look happy.”

BOOK: Eye on Crime
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