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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Dangerous Transmission
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One of the officers checked the prisoner's pulse. “Sleeping like a baby,” he reported.

While Frank told Officer Somerset what had happened, the other two policemen began frisking the man. His pockets were full.

“My necklaces, my brooches,” Geoffrey wailed, as the officers laid out the jewelry.

“Mr. Halstead seems to be fine physically,” the policewoman reported. “He's pretty shaken by the experience, though. I was able to get a full statement from him. We should finally be able to put this guy away for a while.”

“Well, it looks as if you might have caught our neighborhood burglar, Mr. Hardy,” Officer Somerset said. “He fits the description of the thief we've been seeking. He has the stolen items on his person. And it sounds as if Mr. Halstead can give us an eyewitness account of an actual burglary. I have to agree with my colleague. This case seems closed.”

“What case?” a familiar voice called from the front door. “What's going on?”

“Jax!” Frank called. “You're out of the hospital.”

“Indeed,” Jax said. “I took a cab home but was surprised to find police cars in front of my flat. What happened?”

“This time it was your neighbor—Geoffrey Halstead—who had an encounter with the burglar,” Officer Somerset related. “But due to the excellent
skills of your houseguest, we seem to have the culprit in custody.”

“Great, Frank,” Jax said, clapping Frank on the back.

The other two officers escorted the chained prisoner out to the van. The man had awakened by now and was mumbling something about being innocent.

“Mr. Hardy, the city of London thanks you, as do I,” Officer Somerset said. “We may have to call on you for more information or further identification, but I assure you, we will not bother you needlessly. If this goes as I expect, we will wrap up this case for good in a short time—and you and your neighbors will recover your stolen items, Mr. Brighton.”

“I'm afraid I have something more to report,” Jax said. “It's kind of a long story. But I will not tell you unless I can count on your absolute confidence.”

Officer Somerset sent his three colleagues off with the prisoner in the van. Then he, Frank, and Jax stepped outside the store to talk in private.

“You might not have heard of this yet, but I invented a device called the Molar Mike,” Jax said.

“I read about it just today,” Officer Somerset related. “It is fortunate that it was not stolen by the person who broke into your store yesterday.”

“As a matter of fact,” Jax began, “it was.”

Frank and Jax told the officer about the theft, explaining why Jax had not reported it yet. “Now
that it looks as if Frank has caught our local burglar, it seems a good idea to tell you. Please keep your eye out for it when you search the burglar's belongings and residence.”

“Do you have the ransom note with you?” Officer Somerset asked.

“I do,” Jax answered, reaching into his pocket. “You understand that we have to keep this from getting out, because if it does, I may never see my invention again.”

“Excuse me, but can we get a copy of that before we turn it over?” Frank asked. “There's a copier in the back of the store.”

“I don't see why not,” Officer Somerset replied.

Frank went to the back of the jewelry store. Geoffrey's attention was completely absorbed by taking inventory of the stolen items. He barely responded when Frank told him he was going to use the copier.

Frank put the copy of the ransom note in his pocket and brought the original back to Officer Somerset.

“I'll assume you will not be getting any more notes because I believe the writer is now in our custody,” the policeman said. “But if you should receive more, you must let me know immediately.”

“Yes, I will,” Jax said.

“Now I'd better take a look at your office and lab,” the policeman said.

“You two go ahead,” Frank said. “I want to ask Mr. Halstead a couple of questions—as a customer.”

Jax and Officer Somerset walked around the store toward the staircase that led up to Jax's flat. Frank walked back into the jewelry store.

“Mr. Halstead,” Frank began.

“Please call me Geoffrey, and I shall call you Frank. After all, you saved my life and my store.”

“Great,” Frank said. “I just have a couple of questions to ask you—and they have nothing to do with what happened today. Think of me more as a customer.”

“I'm at your service,” Geoffrey said, smiling.

“I'm looking for a pewter clasp,” Frank said. He took out the photograph of the fragment he'd found and showed it to the jeweler. “As you can see, this one is broken and I'd like to replace it. It's sort of a leaf shape and has a hinge on one end.”

“I see that,” Geoffrey said. “I've never had anything like that, but I specialize in custom-made jewelry. If you left this photograph with me, I'm sure I could make a satisfactory replica for you.”

“Thank you,” Frank said. “I'll definitely consider that. Now I have another question.” He closed his fingers around the small container of pearl essence in his pocket.

“I have a string of clear glass beads that I bought for my girlfriend back home,” Frank said, weaving the story as he went along. “I haven't given them to
her yet because she recently told me she really wants some pearls. I figure maybe a jeweler like you can fix up these beads I bought to make them look like pearls?”

“I don't follow you,” Geoffrey said.

“I mean, maybe you have some paint or some kind of material that you can put on these beads so they'll look like pearls?”

“Surely you're joking,” Geoffrey said. “I would never,
never
try to pass glass off as pearls. You can buy ready-made imitations at any ordinary store. You don't need to engage a master jeweler to create them for you.”

“Okay. Well, thanks,” Frank said.

Frank walked up the stairs to Jax's flat and went immediately to the office in the medical suite. Jax and Officer Somerset were there, looking over the damage. Then they all went down to the taxidermy shop and checked it. They found nothing new.

“Try to get us an inventory of everything that's missing as soon as possible,” Officer Somerset said. “That may help us build our case against the man we now have in custody. And thank you again, Mr. Hardy, for your fine work.”

Jax let the policeman out the back door of the shop, and then he and Frank went upstairs to the flat.

“I brought in the mail,” Frank said. “It's on the kitchen table.”

Jax flipped through it, but found nothing interesting. “I'm going to shower,” Jax said. “I want to get the hospital smell off of me.”

“Okay, I'm going to check in with Joe.” Frank went to the small sitting room at the front of the flat. The red light on the phone answering machine was blinking. “Jax, you have some messages,” he called to his friend.

Jax walked in and punched the button. There were three calls. The first was from Nick, hoping Jax was back home and ready to go to work on the exhibit. The second was from Fenton asking his sons to call him. The third was from someone who sounded as if he was disguising his voice.

“Hi, Dad,” the voice said. “It's me, Molar Mike. Put the money in a locked black briefcase and bring it to Signer's Wharf tonight at midnight. Leave it behind the newspaper stand. Then I can come home.”

14 The Chill of Discovery

“Play the message again,” Frank said.

Jax pushed the play button on his answering machine. The voice asking for the ransom was not the only sound on the tape.

“Can you turn up the volume?” Frank asked.

Jax booted it up to the highest level. Frank could hear someone else speaking.

“Do you hear that?” Frank asked. “It sounds like a show going on in the background, someone talking steadily. And there are other noises too. People talking and laughing. Be sure to make a copy for us.”

“Sure,” Jax said, “but I'm not turning this over to Officer Somerset.”

“Jax—,” Frank began.

“I know, I know,” Jax interrupted. “It's the smart
thing to do. It's also a sure way to lose control of my invention for good.” He looked at Joe with a determined glare. “I can't take that chance,” he added. “This is my call, Frank. I'm making it.”

Frank knew his friend well enough to know how stubborn he could be. He decided to drop the subject for now and bring it up again when Joe could make it two against one.

“Okay,” Frank said.

While Jax was in the shower, Frank played the ransom tape again and again, as loud as he could. But he couldn't make out the words in the background.

Next Frank returned his dad's call. “So you fellows are pretty busy over there, I take it,” Fenton Hardy said.

“Our usual vacation,” Frank said with a chuckle. “Can't seem to get away from the family business, Dad.”

“I'm sure you've heard that the Tower of London called me about Jax,” Fenton said.

“Yes—and thanks for the support.”

“No problem. There's no way Jax Brighton is going to be setting fires in the Medieval Palace—and I told them so. I also got an interesting e-mail from one of my buddies in Scotland Yard. He told me you caught some burglar who's been plaguing the city for weeks. Congratulations! I'm really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Frank said. He always felt good when his father told him that.

“So what about Joe?” Fenton said. “It's his turn to catch a crook, right?”

“As a matter of fact, he's tracking one right now. Jax is in trouble, and he's asked us to help him out.” Frank outlined the case and told his father about the suspects. When he mentioned AA42, his father interrupted him.

“I know the woman you're talking about,” Fenton said. “And you'll probably have to drop her from the list of suspects.”

“You're kidding! Why?”

“The latest word on her is that she's working both sides of the fence now.”

“You mean she's a double agent?” Frank asked.

“Looks like it,” Fenton confirmed. “I can't tell you for which countries, but apparently she's basically on our side—for the time being, at least. Best to leave her alone right now.”

The two Hardys talked a little longer and finally hung up. Jax came in from the kitchen, gulping water from a bottle, just as Frank was about ready to call his brother.

“Do you know where Joe is right now?” Jax asked.

“Not a clue,” Frank answered as he punched in the number of Joe's cell phone. “He was going to try to track down Pierre. He was also going to see
what he could find out about that shoe that was kicked into the subway tracks.”

“Hey, Frank, what's up?” Joe asked on the other end of the line. Frank told him about his call to their dad and the ransom call to Jax. Then he asked Joe how his afternoon had gone.

“Pitiful,” Joe said. “First I headed back to that flat where Jax thinks Pierre might be staying. It was only about seven blocks from the park where you and I had lunch. I stopped in a couple of sporting goods stores on the way. No one had seen that black shoe before. One guy thought it might be custom-made, and he gave me the names of a couple of people who might make it. I was trying to call you—I take it you're not tracking AA42 after what Dad said?”

“Right,” Frank agreed. “I'm at the flat. What about Pierre? Was he at his friend's place?”

“No, but I talked to a woman who lives there. She's the wife of his friend. She said he went home, back to Canada. But she acted kind of weird. She might be lying. I called Officer Somerset and left him a message about it.”

“Ask Joe if he signed us up for karate tonight at Black Belt,” Jax said. “I won't be able to make it, but Nick could fill in for me. He's a black belt too.”

“Did you hear that?” Frank asked his brother.

“Yeah,” Joe answered over the phone. “Tell him I didn't sign us up—I'll wait until he's back to full strength. Hey, I'm wondering about something. . . .”
Joe was quiet for a few seconds. Then he spoke again. “You know, Nick seems to be a pretty multi-talented guy. You know? He told us he'd been a TV news anchor, a foreign language translator, a historian, a craftsman, and a restorer. Doesn't he seem kind of young to have done all that?”

Frank turned to Jax. “How long have you known Nick?” he asked.

“Less than a year,” Jax answered. “Actually he's been with the Tower longer than he usually stays with a job, according to him. He kind of follows his instincts about how long to stay in one place and when to cut and run.”

“Did you hear that?” Frank asked Joe again.

“I did,” Joe said. “Ask him who else knew about the Molar Mike before he announced it. Besides Geoffrey, Pierre, and Nick.”

Frank asked Jax his brother's question. Then he held the phone out so Joe could hear Jax's answer.

“I have no idea,” Jax said loudly, so Joe could hear him clearly. “As I said before, I don't really think Geoffrey knew because when we talked early on, I wasn't specific about the invention. We were just discussing microreceivers in general.”

Jax sank into a chair and took a few deep breaths. Frank could tell he was still a little weak from his knockout the night before.

“What did the doctor say you were supposed to do when you got home?” Frank asked.

“He said I could do anything I felt like, but to take it easy. He thought I might be a little woozy. Looks like he was right.”

Jax grabbed a couple of gulps from his water bottle, then continued to answer Frank's question. “When Geoffrey read about the press conference, he must have put two and two together.”

“Who else knew?” Frank prompted.

“Well, Pierre learned about it from the manufacturer I hired in Canada. I have no idea how many leaks there were out there and who was able to pick up on them. That's why this whole thing is so frustrating.”

BOOK: The Dangerous Transmission
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