Scene of the Crime (8 page)

"No more police involvement!" Sy Osserman howled. "Once the cops nail him, they'll release the story to the press."

"Does that matter?" Frank asked. "He attempted murder. This is very serious."

"If the press finds out about this," Osserman asserted, shaking his head, "then, babe, believe me, we won't be able to shoot another scene. The set will be swamped with reporters."

"We'll give you just a couple of hours to figure out what to say to the press. Then you call the police. In the meantime, we'll try to catch him ourselves. Come on, Frank."

Sy Osserman held up his hands like a policeman halting traffic. "Not just yet, Joe."

"What do you mean, 'not just yet'?" Joe's eyes sparkled with anger. "You're not going to let him get away, are you?"

"Of course not!" The director slung his arm around Joe's shoulder. Joe brushed it aside. "But right now we've got Frank's stunt drive along the cliff to shoot."

"Another stunt?" Joe shuddered in disbelief.

"With all that's happened," Frank said, "I'd forgotten about it."

"Well, put it off then," Joe said angrily. "We've got a crook to catch."

"We can't put it off," the director asserted. "We're so far behind schedule, my job's already on the line. The crew has everything ready to go in fifteen minutes. Stunts cost too much to keep rescheduling. I've already lost the leap from the building. If I delay the night drive, who knows when the weather will be this clear again?"

Frank and Joe exchanged glances.

"All right," Frank said. "I'll do it."

"But, Frank — "

"What a guy!" The director beamed. "I knew I could count on you!"

"There's just one condition," Frank added.

"Anything you want." Osserman's voice was breathless with desperation. "Anything."

"Once this stunt's completed," Frank said, "you go straight to the police."

Sy Osserman shrugged. "It's a deal."

Quickly he led Frank and Joe out of the trailer to the waiting limousine.

"Let's hope I can convince Archie Fraser to keep all this quiet," Osserman said.

Ed Kemble and the crew were waiting to shoot the stunt out on the cliffs behind the Garfield mansion.

"We were worried you might not show up," Ed said, shaking Frank's hand when they emerged from the limo. "Wesley thought you might have gotten a case of the jitters. He thought he'd have to perform the stunt for you. 'Not Frank Harris,' I told him."

Frank smiled. "How could I back out on you after the way you saved Janet's life?"

"All in a night's work." Ed winked at Joe. "Anyhow, your brother deserves the credit. If I hadn't heard him shouting down at us as we flew off the building, I would have never suspected anything was wrong with the air bag."

Ed led Frank over to the blue Maserati. He opened the door and handed Frank his protective helmet. Next, Frank slipped a special flame-retardant suit over his own clothing.

He sat behind the wheel and thoroughly examined the car. Everything appeared to be in order, and with Gil Driscoll gone from the set, Frank felt relatively safe.

"All set?" Ed asked him.

"All set," Frank replied, turning to give the thumbs-up signal to Joe and Sy Osserman.

Frank sat behind the wheel. He adjusted the seat and the mirrors.

"This will be the shortest ride of your life," Ed told him. "Just a few hundred feet over to the cliff. In fact, for safety we've only filled your tank with enough special fuel to cover the distance."

Ed smiled at Frank. "Once the flames hit the car, we wouldn't want any extra fuel in that tank to blow you sky-high, would we?"

The path that Frank would follow was completely dark, but special fluorescent tape marked boulders along both sides of the strip so that Frank could see the way.

"We decided that absolute darkness would work best," Ed explained, "so that when the explosion hits, the car will really illuminate."

"I can hardly wait," Frank said dryly.

Ed chuckled. "Don't worry. You know the Maserati is insulated with special protective shields. So while the outside of the car is burning, you'll be safe inside."

"You make it sound easy," Frank said.

"It is easy," Ed assured him. "The only tough part comes when the car is on fire. You won't be able to see through the flames, but all you have to do is drive straight ahead. That way you won't slide over the cliff."

Frank gawked. "What do you mean, slide over the cliff?"

"Once the explosion hits, just count to five and hit the brakes," Ed explained. "That will give you plenty of room to stop."

Frank looked skeptical. "Once I do, how do I get out of the burning car?"

"Push open the driver's door and bail out," Ed instructed. "The crew will move in to push the Maserati over the side of the cliff. That way we'll get a closeup of it smashing against the rocks below."

"Just make sure I'm out of the car before you push it over," Frank said.

Ed grinned. "I'll try to remember."

With Gil Driscoll gone from the set, Frank thought, this might just turn out like the piece of cake Ed Kemble made it sound.

Now he rolled up the window and revved the engine. Then he looked straight ahead at the path. Fifty feet in front of him an electronic device was rigged to set the car on fire as Frank passed. A hundred feet beyond that was the edge of the cliff. Frank could barely see where the sky met the ground in the darkness.

"Action!" Sy Osserman shouted through his megaphone.

Frank raced the car forward. He moved straight ahead, following the path that had been laid out for him.

But even in the darkness, some movement off to the side caught his eye. Gil Driscoll!

As Frank drove by, the man jumped up from behind a boulder. Frank could see Driscoll's twisted grin. He stood in the darkness, waving a fuel can above his head as Frank passed. The last drops of gasoline dripped from the can to the ground.

Instantly, Frank smelled the familiar odor.

Driscoll must have replaced the special fuel in the gas tank with regular gasoline. The moment the flames touched the Maserati, gasoline would send the blue sports car a mile high.

Desperately Frank tried to veer the car away from the path. But boulders on either side forced him back on course. He hit the brakes, but the car was moving too fast to stop him in time.

There was only one way out. Jump!

Frank grabbed the door handle. It didn't open. He reached over to try the passenger side. When he did, the handle came off in his hand. Frantically, he attempted to roll down the windows. They were sealed shut.

Sweat began to roll down his face. Within moments the flames would engulf the car and blow it to bits—with Frank trapped inside!

DESPERATELY, FRANK RIPPED off his seat belt, pushing himself up till the top of his head touched the roof of the Maserati.

With one hand on the steering wheel to keep the car from swerving out of control, he braced himself against the car's roll bar. It had been specially designed to keep the roof from caving in if the stunt car overturned. Now it provided Frank with the support he needed to smash his way out.

With a wild cry, Frank smashed out with his leg in a karate kick against the driver's-side window.

The window shattered, sending glass in every direction. Ducking low, Frank dove forward, hurtling through the small open space the broken window had created.

Frank landed hard on his shoulder, then somersaulted head over heels as flames suddenly engulfed the Maserati. He scrambled away and lay flat on the ground as the car veered wildly out of control, spinning toward the cliff.

The explosion came just as the car flew over, lighting up the sky with a plume of bright orange flame. The fiery shell plunged toward the sea, smashing against the hard rocks and splitting into two burning pieces. A thick cloud of smoke rose above the cliffs as the car disappeared beneath the surface of the waves below.

"Frank!" Joe ran up to his brother, who lay flat on the ground. The rest of the crew swarmed behind him. They, too, had seen Frank's escape. "Are you hurt?"

"Only my professional pride," Frank said, allowing Joe to help him sit up. "I should have never let Sy Osserman talk me into performing a dangerous stunt with our friend still at large. That mistake nearly got me killed."

"Driscoll was responsible for this one, too?" Joe stared in disbelief. "But how? We saw him run off. I'd have thought he'd be miles away by now."

"It looks as if he believes killing us is a better plan than running," Frank said. "I spotted him behind a boulder as I passed. He was swinging an empty container of gasoline. Somehow, he was able to gas up the Maserati before the stunt."

Joe frowned and turned to Osserman. "It's time we were going to the police. This is too dangerous to keep under wraps any longer."

"Absolutely," Frank agreed, scanning the crowd. "Let's get Janet and take her along with us. I want to be sure that she's safe." "Janet!" Joe's eyes opened wide. "Oh, no!" "Wasn't she with you watching the stunt?" "I didn't see her," Joe said nervously. "She wasn't on the set. And with Gil Driscoll out of the way, we didn't think to keep an eye on her." Frank held out his hand so that Joe could lift him to his feet.

"But Driscoll's not out of the way," Frank said. "What's more, he believes Janet has the evidence against him."

"Which means she's in great danger," Joe said grimly.

Sy Osserman and Ed Kemble were surveying the wreckage. Frank decided not to waste time with them. "Let's get out of here and find Janet," he said.

Osserman called after them, but Frank and Joe didn't even turn as they headed back to Janet's trailer. The Hardys dashed past the sets and equipment sheds to the crew's quarters. Janet's trailer was a good ten-minute run. As they approached, they heard a crash from inside, followed by the clumping of footsteps on the trailer's stairs. Janet let out a sudden cry, but her voice was quickly muffled.

"Come on!" Joe urgently whispered, taking off for the front of the trailer.

Two hooded men were dragging the struggling girl toward their car. A third hooded man sat impatiently behind the wheel. Even in the dark, Frank and Joe could tell it was the same black Jaguar they had chased from the airport.

The men carrying Janet looked like the two assailants who had pulled switchblades on the Hardys in the hangar. The shorter man had Janet by the legs, while his taller companion had a thick arm around her shoulders. His gloved hand covered her mouth.

"This time they won't get away!" Joe charged forward.

The hooded men quickly dumped Janet into the backseat. They attempted to climb in after her and drive off without a fight, but Joe was at the door before they could get away.

He hauled out the taller man by his belt, tossing him to the ground. Then he made a grab for Janet as the Jaguar suddenly moved forward.

Frank jumped on the hood, but the car swerved sharply, throwing him off. Joe ran up behind, and leaped for the back door. He missed by inches, when the car turned, and fell flat to the ground.

"Joe! Frank!" Janet screamed. "Help me!"

They scrambled to their feet to make another run for the Jaguar. Now the car had spun around and was heading back, straight for them.

"Jump!" Frank bellowed.

Joe leaped aside, tasting dust as the car plowed on past. The Jaguar barely missed him. Quickly it swerved around, trying to catch Frank.

Instead of jumping aside, Frank timed his leap and made it back onto the hood of the car. Through the windshield he glared at the hooded driver, wondering if it was Gil Driscoll. Hanging on as tightly as he could, he reached across for the passenger door as the car swerved wildly back and forth.

As his fingers touched the handle, the Jaguar suddenly screeched to a halt. Frank went flying, then landed hard on the ground, dazed and dusty. When he looked up, the taller goon was opening the back door and jumping inside. This time, the Jaguar took off, leaving the Hardys behind.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked, running over to Frank, as his older brother once again lay in the dirt. "You've had a rough night of it."

"Not as rough as Janet's had," Frank said.

Her trailer door had been left open. Frank and Joe leapt up the steps and had a look inside. The place looked like a tornado had struck. The furniture was overturned. Janet's clothing was scattered over the floor. Books and papers were ripped and thrown about. Even the mattress was torn.

"I'll bet they were very upset when they didn't find the film," Frank said.

Joe nodded. "Well, they couldn't find it, because Janet doesn't have it. She doesn't even know where it is."

"Yeah," Frank replied. "But we do. Sy Osserman has it, and soon he's going to turn it over to the police."

"Not before we get Janet back," Joe insisted. "We may need it to negotiate with them."

Frank nodded. "Let's get back to our hotel room. Once Gil is convinced that Janet doesn't know where the film is, he'll think we have it."

"And you're willing to set up an exchange?" Joe asked.

"If Gil Driscoll is."

"We've got nothing to give him," Joe reminded him.

"Well, what Driscoll doesn't know can hurt him," Frank said. "If we show up with one blank roll of film, maybe that'll buy us enough time to save Janet."

For the next hour Joe paced the motel room. Frank sat grimly on the bed, glancing every few minutes at the silent telephone. "I hope they're not hurting her," Joe said.

"Janet's strong," Frank told him, even though he'd been worrying about the same thing.

Finally the phone rang.

Frank composed himself. He let it ring three times before he picked it up. Let Gil Driscoll believe Frank was as cold and as calculating as Driscoll himself was, he thought. That might improve his bargaining position.

"Have you called the police?" Driscoll asked the moment Frank lifted the receiver.

"Of course not."

"Good," the saboteur said. "Just remember, if you try to involve them, Janet will meet a very unpleasant end."

"I understand," Frank said.

"I knew you would." Driscoll sounded pleased. "We want the film."