Eye on Crime (12 page)

Frank leaned over to whisper to his brother. “The furs are a switch. But they didn't take much effort to alter the tape.”

“What was that?” Chief Collig asked. Frank did not reply. “Suit yourself,” Collig said. “Anyway, we don't need a confession.”

“We plan to show how that tape is faulty evidence,” Stelfreeze said. “We will show that it has been tampered with.”

“Oh, we don't plan to hang this all on the tape,” Collig said. “Con?”

Con Riley threw a plastic bag on the table in plain sight of everyone gathered there. Inside was a ragged swatch of fur.

“We got a search warrant for your van, based on the tape. We searched it while you were in school. We found this under the passenger seat.”

“We've been set up!” Joe yelled.

“Simmer down,” Stelfreeze instructed him. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Collig shouted. A uniformed officer opened the door and poked his head inside the interrogation room.

“I have papers signed by Judge Bone, authorizing release on bail of Frank and Joe Hardy.”

Brady Stelfreeze smiled.

“When you hire the best, you get the best results,” Fenton Hardy said.

Chief Collig shook his head with disappointment. “Get on out of here,” he said. “For now, anyway.”

Joe and Frank stood up. Stelfreeze, their father,
and Con Riley filed through the door and out of the room. Frank and Joe started to follow them.

“Hey,” Collig said softly, “for what it's worth, I don't like being the bad cop right now. I hope you guys are being framed.”

Frank and Joe nodded their heads and smiled.

When they got outside, Fenton Hardy drove up in his sons' van.

“It was in impound,” he said. “Stelfreeze got it released.” Frank and Joe got in the van.

“You want to drive?” Fenton asked Joe.

“Nah, you go ahead,” he replied. “Hey, where's your car?”

“I came here with Stelfreeze. We're going to meet him at our house for a strategy session. Maybe you two want to bring me up to speed.”

Frank and Joe filled their father in on their involvement with what they referred to as the
Monty Mania
case. They walked him through their encounters with Monty, their interactions with Rojas and Wingfoot, their girlfriends' involvement, and each of the theories they had put forward on the case.

“Wow,” Fenton said, “that's a busy handful of days. So what you believe is that this hypnotist is planting posthypnotic suggestions in his guests' minds, while Ronald Johnson uses his control of the security company to pull off these robberies and frame somebody else.”

“That's pretty much it at this point,” Frank said.
“Monty has people do stuff on stage that is easily morphed into the security camera footage. And Johnson set up each store's security system, so he would have no problem bypassing it. Then to cover the scent of its being an inside job, he trips the alarms when he's ready to make a getaway.”

“But even if you run all of the videotapes through your computer and show how Johnson could have framed everybody, it still doesn't prove anything. Especially now that some hard evidence has been found in your van.”

“Yeah, how did that get in here?” Frank asked.

“Probably when we were tussling with the thugs-of-the-week club,” Joe said. “I thought that whole tangle ended a bit too easily.”

“Well, now we just have to catch Johnson in the act,” Frank said. “The missing goods have to be tracked right to his door.”

“That's a tall order, son,” Fenton said. “But if it can be done, you guys will do it.”

• • •

After a long night of legal strategizing, the brothers finally got to bed just before midnight.

The next morning they decided to be late for school so they could check out Eye Spy Security. They figured a bold front-door approach would serve them best.

“Put on a nice shirt and a tie,” Frank suggested as he and Joe got dressed.

Joe winced. “I hate ties. Why a tie?”

“It will give our appearance at the Eye Spy Security corporate offices a bit more legitimacy.”

When they reached the office, they walked straight into the reception area.

“May I help you?” asked a young woman sitting behind a desk.

Joe smiled. He gave his brother an I'll-handle-this look. “Yes, you certainly can,” he said as he approached the desk. “We represent a local group of investors who . . .”

Frank tuned out his brother's smooth talk, choosing instead to wander around the reception area. He made his way close to the entrance to the interior offices. Through a set of double glass doors, he saw a familiar face.

“Bill,” he said as he opened the door. “How's it going?”

The security installation man Frank had met at the Bayport Jewelry Exchange gave the teen a puzzled look. Then a smile crossed his face.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “It's going well. What are you doing around here?”

Frank walked up to the installation man.

“All right, I'll confess,” Frank whispered. “I'm here to learn how to foil Eye Spy's latest security system.” Then he flashed the man a big smile.

Bill laughed. “That's a good one. But, hey, are you here looking for a job maybe? I could put in a word for you.”

“It's a tempting offer,” Frank said. “But I don't know—installing alarms at jewelry stores every day? Sounds like it could get old.”

“Hey, we don't just do jewels. In fact, I'm headed out to do a repair at a fur warehouse.”

Just then Bill's beeper chimed. “I got to get this,” he said. Bill turned around and walked down the hallway.

Frank looked around. He spotted an open office door and decided to peek inside. Nobody was in the office, so Frank made sure the coast was clear in the hall and then he walked over to the desk. On top was a stack of papers—bills, from what Frank could gather. The one on top was for Diamonds and Pearls Jewelers. Frank took a closer look and could see the impression of something handwritten reflected on the bill, as if it had been under a piece of paper on which somebody had written a note.

Frank held the paper up to the light.

“Next?” he read.

Just then there was noise in the hallway. Frank put the paper down on the desk and walked into the hall.

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked a man, whom Frank recognized as Ronald Johnson.

“Uh, I'm looking to set up some security for my dad's new art gallery,” Frank replied.

“Art gallery, huh?” Johnson said, approaching
Frank. “Well, I'm Ronald Johnson, president here at Eye Spy Security. You've certainly come to the right place for all your security needs.”

Frank shook Johnson's extended hand.

“Now, if you'll just head on down the hall to the left, I'll have one of our security experts show you some of our wonderful systems and set up an appointment to have one of our men survey the gallery.”

“Great,” Frank said as he walked off in the direction in which Johnson had pointed. He had wanted to press the conversation with Johnson further, but he could tell that the man was not going to stand there and be questioned.

After Frank was certain Johnson had left the hallway, he turned around and went back to the reception area. Joe was leaning against the receptionist's desk, still smiling and talking. Frank tapped Joe on the shoulder.

“Let's get going,” he said. Joe hesitated. Frank gently pulled on his sleeve.

“Well, thanks,” Joe said over his shoulder to the receptionist as Frank dragged him toward the exit. “I'll keep all that in mind.”

“Keep what in mind?” Frank asked as they got in the elevator.

“Nothing,” Joe answered. “Just small talk.”

Frank snorted and shook his head. “I had some small talk, too. With our main suspect.”

“Wow,” Joe said. “I'm impressed.”

“Don't be. I didn't get anything.”

They exited the building and headed for the van. Suddenly, the normal sounds of downtown traffic were pierced by the squeal of grinding brakes.

“Oh, great,” Joe said as he pointed at a black sedan. The car was cutting across three lanes of traffic to make a U-turn. “Here we go again.”

“When will these guys ever give up?” Frank moaned as he sprinted for the van. Joe headed out into the street and ran for the driver's side of the vehicle. When both Hardys were in the van, Joe started the engine.

He could see the sedan in the mirror.

“They're a few cars back,” Joe said. “Good thing there's some traffic.” Joe saw a few inches of daylight between the two cars about to pass the van. He threw the van into gear and shot out into traffic just as the first car passed. In the other car the brakes were slammed on and the horn was pushed.

The van was free of its parking spot and Joe accelerated into the downtown traffic. Frank looked out the passenger-side window.

“They're passing traffic on the right,” he said. “They'll be able to slip in behind us.”

“Great! A slow-speed chase through traffic. That's exciting.” Joe made a right turn onto a side street, hoping to find some space to gain speed. His instinct was rewarded; the traffic was sparse on the narrow side street.

“Let's lose these guys,” Frank said as he spotted the sedan making the right also.

“Yeah, I don't want to dance with these goons again. I want to get to chemistry class.”

Joe pushed the accelerator to the floor. He came right up behind a slow-moving family car before he pulled the wheel to the left. He drove the van across the double yellow line into oncoming traffic. At the last possible second, in the face of the oncoming honking cars, Joe jerked the steering wheel to the right and slipped the van in front of the family car. He could hear the screech of brakes behind him. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed that the sedan had failed to pull off the same maneuver.

“Light's going yellow,” Frank warned.

Joe eased off the gas a little, forcing the cars behind him to slow down as they approached the intersection. When the light turned red, Joe punched the gas and made a sharp left. The sedan was stuck behind the family car at the red light.

“Three for three,” Joe said. “These two better go back to bad guy school.”

“What do you expect?” Frank asked. “They've had it easy. Monty Andrews and Ronald Johnson set up simple, foolproof heists to pull. They probably haven't had to do much thinking.”

• • •

After finishing morning classes, Frank and Joe met the rest of the gang for lunch. They filled everyone in on what had happened, and then they revealed their plan.

“We need to catch these guys with the stolen goods. That is, assuming they haven't fenced them yet,” Chet suggested.

“Con said that none of the stuff has turned up anywhere,” Frank said. “With luck, it's still stashed somewhere here in town.”

“Here's what we're going to do,” Joe said. Everybody huddled over the table to go over the plan. “It'll take all of us to pull it off.”

• • •

Later that evening everyone was in position. Frank and Joe sat in the van, parked around the corner from Diamonds and Pearls Jewelers. It was nearly nine o'clock, and the store was closing for the night. As they watched the owner of the store lock the front door, the cellular phone rang.

“Talk to me,” Frank said, answering the phone.

“It's Tony. We've got a sighting on Monty Andrews. He's leaving the studio.”

“Stick with him,” Frank said.

Tony, Chet, Iola, and Callie had been assigned
to keep an eye on the performer; none of them wanted to be left out of the manhunt, and it was probably safer to go in large numbers anyway. They still suspected that he might be deeply involved with the robberies. “We need to know if he heads our way.”

“What's up at your end?” Tony asked.

“We have the store staked out. It just closed. If Monty plans to rob this place, it'll probably take him twenty minutes to get here. By then the area will be pretty vacant.”

Frank hung up the phone. Thirty minutes later it rang again.

“It's Chet. Monty stopped for dinner.”

“Maybe he doesn't do the job himself,” Joe said.

Joe tapped his brother's arm. Frank looked through the front windshield. He spotted two large, familiar figures walking up the street toward Diamonds and Pearls.

“Why do it himself when he has those two goons,” Frank said. “We'll be in touch,” he said into the phone. “It's show time.”

Joe and Frank watched as the two thugs spent a moment at the front door of the store. When they had disappeared inside, Joe started up the engine.

“Let them get the goods,” Frank said. “Then we'll nail them.”

The brothers waited a few minutes. The two thugs left the store from the front door and nonchalantly walked down the street. They turned
the corner opposite from where Frank and Joe sat. Then suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of Diamonds and Pearls' alarm.

“Hit it,” Frank ordered.

Joe threw the van into gear just as the familiar black sedan came roaring up the block.

“Great,” Joe said. “We guessed wrong on which direction they might go. I thought for sure they'd head downtown. They've already seen us.”

“I don't care,” Frank said. “We've got to run these guys to ground before they can get rid of the goods.”

“Wait,” Joe said as he kept pace with the accelerating sedan. “Forget the goods from this one store. Let's see if we can catch them with everything. Then we'll all be cleared of the charges.”

“Good thinking,” Frank said. “But if they know we're on their tail, they probably won't go to their hideout.”

“Then we'll let them lose us. Call Callie and have her intercept their trail. When the thugs think they're in the clear, they won't be looking for our backup crew. Callie can follow them to the stash.”