The Case of the Psychic's Vision

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Do you really believe all of this, Fenton?” Aunt Gertrude suddenly asked her brother.

  “Do I believe this, Gertrude?” Mr. Hardy said. “Well, if I can’t disprove it on my own, then I don’t say I disbelieve it. I may be skeptical, but I always try to keep an open mind. That’s what’s important. I just don’t know. I don’t think anybody really knows.”

  “Have you ever used a psychic to help you solve a crime, Dad?” Joe asked.

  Frank thought he saw a slight blush come to his father’s face, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Mr. Hardy smiled. “Well, as a matter of fact I did once,” he said.

  There was an audible gasp from Mrs. Hardy, who had come back into the dining room.

  “Fenton, I didn’t know that,” she said. “You never told me. When did it happen?”

  Mr. Hardy turned to the boys and Aunt Gertrude. “Your mother’s reaction is typical. For some reason, psychics scare people. I think it’s because we all have a fear of the unknown.” He turned to his wife. “It was a couple of years ago, Laura. I was really stumped by the Marston case.”

  “I remember that,” Frank said. “Missing diamonds.”

  “Right,” Mr. Hardy said. “I was talking to Chief Collig about it and he just happened to mention a psychic who had helped him solve a similar case two years before.”

  “Chief Collig uses psychics?” Joe exclaimed.

  “That information is not to leave this room, Joe,” Mr. Hardy said. “Chief Collig told me that in confidence and I expect my family to keep the confidence. I only mentioned it to you because you boys have been involved in solving a lot of crimes and you understand these things.”

  “Right,” Frank and Joe said in unison.

  “The psychic was a man named Wilson Chatham. He lives about thirty miles from Bayport, in Brand-stone,” Mr. Hardy explained. “I contacted him and he agreed to use psychometry. That’s when a psychic takes something that belonged to the victim, in this case, a leather drawstring bag that held the diamonds, and touches it to get information. Research has shown that in times of great stress, such as when somebody is stealing a fortune from you, your energy merges with the energy of the object, the bag, and leaves a memory trace. I don’t know enough about this to explain it very well, but the psychic can pick up on that memory and give the police—or in my case, a private investigator—all kinds of clues.”

  “It worked?” Joe asked.

  Mr. Hardy nodded. “I got enough information from Chatham to locate the diamonds and return them to their owner.”

  Just then, the telephone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Joe said. He excused himself from the table and grabbed the extension in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Joe! It’s Chet! Are you guys ready?”

  “Ready?” Joe said.

  “We’re going over to Callie’s, remember?” Chet said. “We’re going to make sure this is a séance they’ll never forget.”

  Joe couldn’t believe that he had forgotten about the séance again, but just listening to his father talk about using psychics to solve mysteries had taken his mind off it.

  “Yeah, sure! Frank’s finishing up dinner,” Joe said. “Are you coming by or do you want us to pick you up?”

  “I’ll be by,” Chet said. “It’s just going to be the three of us.”

  “What happened to the rest of the gang?” Joe asked.

  “They chickened out,” Chet said. “I think they got spooked.”

  I can almost understand that, Joe thought. “Well, we’re still on,” he said to Chet.

  “I’ll be by in about ten minutes,” Chet said. “I’ll honk.”

  “Okay,” Joe said and hung up the receiver.

  He had just started back into the dining room, when the telephone rang again.

  “What is it?” Joe said into the receiver. He was sure it was Chet again. “Do you want me to bring you what we didn’t eat for dinner?”

  But Joe heard only a crackling noise on the other end before a voice said in a low whisper, “Don’t go to that séance. If you do, you won’t leave there alive.”

  Then there was a click and the line went dead.

  3 Attacked!

  * * *

  Just then Frank came into the kitchen, carrying some dirty plates and bowls. “Who was that on the phone?”

  “The first call was from Chet,” Joe said. “He’ll be by to pick us up in a few minutes.”

  “I don’t know, Joe. Do you really think this is a good idea?” Frank asked. “Maybe we should be more serious about what psychics do. Dad certainly is.”

  “Ask me about the second call,” Joe said.

  Frank gave him a puzzled look. “Okay,” he said. “Who was the second call from?”

  Joe shrugged. “I didn’t recognize the voice, but whoever it was said if we went to the séance, we wouldn’t leave alive.” He grinned at Frank. “So I’m definitely going. No threat is going to scare me away from this now.”

  Frank put the dishes by the sink. “Good call,” he said.

  Just then, Aunt Gertrude and Mrs. Hardy came into the kitchen, so the boys cut short their conversation.

  “We’re going over to Callie Shaw’s for a little while, Mom,” Frank said. “We’ll be back later.”

  “Okay, boys,” Mrs. Hardy said.

  Frank and Joe headed through the house.

  “Do you think we should tell Dad about the séance, nothing about the practical joke, but maybe just to let him know what’s going on?” Joe said.

  “Maybe we should,” Frank agreed. “I’d like to hear what he has to say.”

  But Mr. Hardy had already gone into his study, closing the door, which was a signal to the rest of the family that he was hard at work on a case and didn’t want to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. Frank and Joe both agreed that this probably wasn’t an emergency.

  They had just stepped outside when Chet pulled into the driveway. The boys ran out to Chet’s car and got inside.

  As Chet backed out of the driveway he said, “Are you guys ready for some fun? I’ve been thinking of all the things we can do over at Callie’s house. We’re going to freak those girls out!”

  When neither Frank nor Joe said anything, Chet asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “Joe received a threatening phone call before we left,” Frank told him. “Whoever it was said we’d never leave Callie’s house alive.”

  “Yeah, right,” Chet said. He looked over at Joe. “Who do you think called?”

  “I didn’t recognize the voice,” Joe said. “The person was whispering.”

  “I wonder if it was Colin Randles,” Frank said.

  “Nella’s brother?” Chet said.

  “Yeah. We talked today,” Frank said. “I just haven’t had time to . . .”

  All of a sudden, headlights from behind blinded them.

  “What’s wrong with that stupid driver?” Chet said. “He’s got his brights on, and he’s tailgating me.”

  “Speed up,” Frank said. “You’re only going thirty and you can go forty-five on this street.”

  Chet sped up. “I’ll put an end to this,” he said.

  He turned a corner rapidly, but so did the car that was following them.

  Inside Chet’s car, it was almost as bright as day.

  “We can take the expressway to Callie’s house,” Joe said. “You should be able to lose them there.”

  “It’s hard to see,” Chet said. “Maybe I should pull over and let them pass.”

  “No! It could be a carjacking,” Joe said. “Dad said there was one in downtown Bayport just last week.”

  “Joe’s right, Chet,” Frank said. “You’ve got those fancy rims on your wheels; they might want those. I wouldn’t pull over. I’d try to lose them.”

  Up ahead, they saw the entrance to the expressway.

  “Hold on, then!” Chet said.

  He floored the gas pedal and shot ahead of the other car. But soon their follower was back on their tai
l again as they barreled down the expressway.

  “There’s no way these guys are going to get my rims,” Chet announced. “I used up almost all of my savings to buy them.”

  Still, the car stayed behind them.

  “Where’s a patrolman when you need one?” Joe said.

  “Callie’s exit is the next one,” Frank said. “Don’t signal. Just turn at the last minute.”

  “Okay! Okay! We’re almost there!” Chet said. “Hold on!”

  He swerved his car onto the off-ramp and raced down to the service road.

  “All right!” Joe shouted. “I think we lost them.”

  Above them, on the expressway, they could see the car. It was a couple miles away, so they thought they would be long gone before the car made it back to where they were.

  “Creeps. Low lifes!” Chet muttered. “Why can’t they save their money and buy their own rims?”

  “I’ve been thinking, Chet. Whoever that was may not have wanted your rims after all,” Frank said. “It could be the same person who called Joe and told us not to go to the séance.”

  “Colin?” Joe asked.

  Frank nodded. “The telephone call didn’t work, so maybe he thought something like this might.”

  “I don’t get it,” Joe said. “If it was Colin, then why is he so uptight about this séance?”

  “Wait’ll you hear the rest of what I learned about him and his family today,” Frank said. He told his friends about his lunchtime conversation with Colin.

  When Frank finished, Chet said, “He could have killed us!”

  “No. I think he just wanted to scare us away. He’s afraid that if all this psychic stuff upsets people, they’ll have to leave town again, and he doesn’t want to do that,” Frank said. “He probably thought that if he could keep us occupied with a chase long enough, we might miss the séance.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Chet said. “There’s Callie’s house just down the street.”

  Chet parked in front of the house next door to the Shaw’s.

  “How are we going to do this?” Joe asked. “We weren’t invited to the party. Are we just going to crash it?”

  “I’ve got this all figured out,” Chet said.

  Frank was sure he did. Chet knew every trick in the book.

  Frank and Joe followed Chet around to the side gate of the Shaws’ house.

  “Iola said they were going to have the séance inside the gazebo in the backyard,” Chet said. “Nella told them it has just the right atmosphere.”

  Good, Frank thought. Callie’s parents might not appreciate having Chet’s practical joke carried out in their house.

  Chet slowly opened the side gate. It was dark enough now that they couldn’t be seen in the shadows beside the house. The Shaws’ backyard was planted with tall leafy trees and thick flowering bushes, which hid them as they headed toward the gazebo at the back of the yard.

  All of the spotlights in the backyard were off, too, and the only light was coming from a candle in the center of the gazebo.

  Frank could feel the adrenaline flowing. He loved a good practical joke too. He only hoped Callie appreciated it.

  Finally they reached the side of the gazebo without being detected.

  Through the latticework, Frank saw Callie, Iola, and Nella seated around a table.

  “Are you all believers?” Nella was saying.

  “Yes,” Callie and Iola said.

  Suddenly, Iola giggled.

  “Iola!” Callie whispered. “Stop!”

  “Sorry,” Iola said.

  “If you do not believe, you will ruin this for everyone,” Nella said.

  “I believe,” Iola managed to say.

  “Then listen carefully and concentrate on what we’re doing,” Nella continued. “We must make sure the spirits have the right atmosphere, or we won’t be able to contact them. Do you understand?”

  Callie and Iola nodded.

  Frank peeked through the latticework again. The flickering candles made strange shapes inside the gazebo and distorted the faces of the girls. Callie had said this was all for fun, as part of the sleepover, but Nella seemed pretty serious about it. No wonder Colin had panicked. Things like this tended to upset certain people in the community—and sometimes those people could cause problems.

  Joe heard someone murmuring and thought it had to be Nella. This must be part of the ceremony, he thought. He was beginning to feel kind of creepy being there. He looked around, wondering if Nella would be able to attract spirits to the séance, then stopped, surprised at himself for even thinking that.

  Suddenly, Nella stopped murmuring. “There are spirits here,” she said. “I can feel them.”

  “Who?” Callie asked.

  “Call out some names and see who answers,” Nella said.

  “Roberta Sanders,” Iola said.

  The three boys looked at each other. Roberta Sanders was a physical education teacher at Bayport High School. She had gone to South America one summer and just disappeared. A lot of the girls were really upset about it.

  Suddenly, Chet said, “I’m here! What do you want?” He used a high-pitched and faraway-sounding voice.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Callie cried. “It works!”

  That seemed to spur Chet on.

  “I heard you calling me from faraway South America,” Chet said in his ‘spirit’ voice. “I’ve come back to Bayport to answer your questions.”

  Joe had started to wonder if Chet was going too far. Just as he looked over at Frank to see if he felt the same way, Frank fell to the ground and disappeared around the other side of the gazebo. It was as though someone was dragging him out of sight.

  “Frank!” Joe shouted.

  On the gazebo, the candle had gone out, and the girls began to scream.

  Frank was fighting just to breathe. Someone had grabbed him from behind and had his hands around Frank’s throat, choking the life out of him. It was so dark that he couldn’t see the person’s face, but Frank was sure that he knew who it was.

  Finally, Frank managed to flip over onto his back. The person’s hands were still around his neck. Choking. Frank knew he was close to passing out. He couldn’t let that happen. With one final push, he managed to shove his attacker off of him.

  Frank sat up, gasping for breath. Floodlights lit up the backyard. Mr. and Mrs. Shaw had come outside to see what was going on.

  “Is everything all right?” Mr. Shaw shouted.

  The girls were all standing together in the center of the gazebo, looking down into the yard, where the three boys were crouched.

  “Frank! Joe!” Callie shouted.

  “Chet!” Iola shouted. “I should have known!”

  Joe was hoping that at least one of the girls would start laughing, but nobody seemed to think there was anything funny about what had happened.

  Chet and Joe helped Frank up.

  “We just wanted to see what the séance was like,” Joe explained lamely. He didn’t think this was the time to mention practical jokes. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have slipped up on us like that,” Callie said. “You should have just joined us around the table.”

  “And you definitely shouldn’t have pretended you were Ms. Sanders, Chet,” Iola told her brother. “That’s just, well, that’s just plain sick.”

  “Sorry,” Chet said.

  “Nella!”

  Everyone turned to see who had come through the side gate. After a few seconds, Colin Randles walked into the light.

  “I need to talk to you!” Frank shouted at him. “You have some explaining to do.”

  “What do you mean?” Colin said.

  “If you’ll come closer, I’ll show you the bruises your fingers made on my neck,” Frank said.

  “You’re crazy, Hardy!” Colin said.

  “Really?” Frank said. “So you deny attacking me just a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes, I do,” Colin said. “I just got here.�
��

  “I don’t believe you,” Frank said.

  Just then, two more people came into the light to stand behind Colin.

  “Colin’s telling the truth. I’m his father,” the man said. “We’ve come to take Nella home.”

  Frank was stunned. If Colin hadn’t attacked him, then who had?

  4 I See Things

  * * *

  “Why don’t we all go inside and discuss this?” Mr. Shaw said.

  Frank could tell by the expression on Nella’s face that she was hoping her parents would accept the invitation. Since the tone of Mr. Shaw’s voice was nonthreatening, Mr. and Mrs. Randles agreed.

  Once inside, the Shaws made everyone feel at ease. Their large family room was comfortable and already stocked with snacks and cold drinks for Callie’s friends.

  “Now then,” Mr. Shaw began, after everyone had plates piled high with food, “who wants to start?” He was looking at Frank, Joe, and Chet.

  “We thought it would be funny to scare the girls during the séance,” Chet volunteered. He shrugged. “I guess it kind of got out of hand.”

  “Yeah, just a tad,” Callie agreed.

  Iola was giving her brother a dirty look.

  “Who were you fighting with, Frank?” Mrs. Shaw asked.

  Frank looked around the room, his eyes finally landing on Colin. He shrugged. “I thought it was Colin, but I guess it wasn’t.”

  “You don’t know?” Callie said.

  Frank shook his head. “It was dark. When the lights came on, the person was gone.”

  “It was someone who was visiting the séance,” Nella said.

  “Nella!” Mrs. Randles said sternly. “Keep quiet.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Shaw looked at each other.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Randles,” Mrs. Shaw said. “We’re an open-minded family here. We always try to listen, even if we, well, don’t always believe everything we hear.”

  “We moved here to Bayport to get away from all of this,” Mr. Randles said. “It’s become a curse!”

  “What has?” Callie asked.