Joe and Frank exchanged glances.
"You'll have to do better than that," Joe said. "The jacket story might have washed if you weren't also wearing similar jeans and the same color T-shirt and had your hair in a pony tail, the way Janet's been wearing hers."
"It was a good disguise for going into her trailer," Kitt told them.
"You went to all that trouble just looking for flowers?" Frank said. "Come on."
"So you think I'm lying?" Kitt raised her chin. She stepped off the stairs, but Joe grabbed her arm before she could walk away.
"Let go of me," she protested.
"Sure." Joe released her arm. "But I wish you'd level with us."
Tears welling up in her eyes, Kitt slumped down on the trailer steps. "Okay. There's also this." She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small white envelope. Frank unfolded the letter inside.
" 'I know who has the missing film,' " he read. "Signed, 'Janet Wynn.' " Frank glared at Kitt. "Is that why you're here? You have the film?"
"No!"
Suddenly Kitt was up, pushing Frank back and rushing past him. But she hadn't run more than a few steps when a canister of film flew out from under her jacket.
Kitt reached for the canister as it fell to the ground, but Frank scooped up the film while Joe grabbed her. "Look what I found," Frank said.
But he didn't have long to enjoy his discovery. From behind Janet's trailer, Burke Quinn ran forward. The actor roared like a madman, his hands aimed for Frank's throat. Frank turned just as Quinn charged him, and he nearly had the wind knocked out of him.
The film can flew up in the air. But Joe caught it before it hit the ground.
"Hit him, Burke," Kitt shouted, furious.
Quinn and Frank struggled and rolled around on the ground. Finally Frank managed to pin Quinn beneath him, his legs imprisoning the actor's arms.
"What gives?" Frank shouted. "Why'd you attack me?"
"You guys can't manhandle my girlfriend," the actor shouted back.
"Burke, you were defending me?" Kitt asked. "How wonderful."
"Did you also help Kitt steal the stunt film?" Frank asked.
"She didn't steal it," Quinn said, "I did."
Frank and Joe stared at him.
"I did it as a little prank. I wanted a private viewing of some of the rushes in my trailer, that's all. But I didn't sabotage any stunts."
"But why did you just steal the stunt scenes?" Frank asked.
"I wanted to see if the action scenes were going to be strong enough. This is an action movie, and if it's not exciting, it won't sell."
Frank let go of the actor and helped him to his feet. Quinn took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Frank, who read it quickly.
"It's the same as the one Kitt received," he said.
"I would have put the film back," Quinn explained. "Only after what happened to the captain, I was afraid to admit what I'd done."
"When these notes arrived," Kitt said, "we decided to stash the film in Janet's trailer."
"We hadn't even looked at them yet," Quinn added.
"Where are the rest of the reels?" Joe asked.
Kitt unzipped her jacket, slowly pulling out five more canisters. Grudgingly, she handed them over to Joe.
"What a relief," Joe said. "For a moment I thought you'd suddenly put on weight."
Kitt made a face. "What are you going to do now?"
"You're not going to turn us in, are you?" Burke Quinn sounded nervous.
"There's only one thing to do," Frank decided.
"Let's go view the reels and see if we can spot our saboteur."
Cal was in the projection booth when they arrived to view the missing reels. They took their seats while Cal threaded reel 242 — Janet's motorcycle stunt scene—through the projector.
"Now we'll see if the captain's hunch was right," Frank said.
Before Janet's ride, the cameraman had taken a series of shots, first filming a wide-angle panoramic view of the set. Next the camera closed in on the road and fence. At last the scene settled in on Janet's motorcycle, following her down the road and into the fence. Joe winced as he once again watched her hit the wall and go up in flames.
"See anything suspicious?" Frank asked.
Kitt Macklin and Burke Quinn shook their heads.
"It all went by too fast," Joe said.
They watched the scene again, then a third time.
"Hold it," Frank said. "I think I see something. Cal? Can you slow this down?"
"Sure. I'll roll it one frame at a time." Cal fiddled with the projector. Then the scene appeared on the screen as still shots from a slide show.
"Right there!" Frank shouted.
In the corner of the picture, a man was standing by the fence, a gallon container in his hand.
Quickly he doused the fence with a clear liquid. Then for half a second—in the space of just three frames—the man turned toward the camera.
Joe's eyes opened wide. "It's Gil Driscoll."
"Stuntmen," Burke Quinn growled, putting his arm around Kitt. "You can't trust any of them."
Frank sat very still. "I was just thinking that Janet probably sent those notes, but she couldn't possibly have seen the film."
"Of course not," Joe agreed. "Sending those notes to Burke and Kitt was just a trick to expose the saboteur."
"But if she sent notes to Burke and Kitt, she sent notes to other people on the set as well."
"You don't think — " Joe slapped his forehead.
"Exactly," Frank said. "If Gil Driscoil got a letter, too, then Janet is in danger."
Joe looked at his watch. "And her next stunt begins in just a few minutes."
The entire crew seemed to be on hand to witness the film's most dangerous stunt - Janet and Ed free-falling from the top of the Garfield mansion.
When Frank and Joe reached the set, Janet and Ed were already up on the roof of the building, which was well lit. In fact, the whole area was lit up like day. On the ground, directly beneath them, two large air bags were being set up to break their falls.
"There's Gil!" Joe exclaimed.
The stuntman was helping to move Janet's air-bag into place. Slowly, with his back turned to the crowd, he reached inside his cowboy boot.
"A knife," Frank shouted. "He's got a knife!"
But the crowd was too loud and too excited to make sense of the warning. Frank and Joe pushed forward, struggling through the knot of people.
Everyone was looking up at Janet and Ed as Frank and Joe saw Gil Driscoll slash Janet's air bag. Slowly the air bag began to deflate.
"Stop the stunt!" Frank shouted, still pushing through the crowd. "Stop it!"
His shouts alerted the saboteur. Driscoll turned and spotted Frank and Joe battling their way toward him. They'd reached a temporary barricade set up to keep everyone at a safe distance.
"Hey!" a security man shouted as Joe hopped the wooden horses.
Driscoll took off. Joe ran after him, but the saboteur ducked around the side of the building. And when Joe turned the corner, Driscoll was gone — vanished into the darkness.
"A minute to action!" Sy Osserman called through his megaphone.
"Hold it! Don't jump!" Frank called up to the rooftop, as he scaled the wooden barricade.
But the crowd noise was too loud for the stunters above to hear. Before Frank could call out again, he was tackled by two security guards.
"Don't jump!" Frank continued to shout as the guards were dragging him off. "Look," he said to the security men. "You've got to stop the stunt. It's been sabotaged!"
The guards continued to drag him along.
Frank twisted in their grasp, kicking one guard behind the knee. As the man's legs buckled under him, Frank pushed him in front of his partner and ran for the building.
Joe was ahead of him, dodging the guards, who were coming for him like running backs.
Together, the Hardys entered the building and plunged up the tall, steep bac
k stairs.
"Thirty seconds," Sy Osserman called.
Frank and Joe pulled themselves along the railing, taking the stairs three at a time. They heard the security men pounding along behind them. "We can't think of them now," Frank gasped, pushing Joe ahead. Joe felt his heart pounding. Never had he run up stairs so fast before.
They reached the trapdoor to the roof and Joe smashed his shoulder against it, Frank right on his heels. The fresh air revitalized them, and the sight of Janet, poised, ready to jump, pumped up their adrenaline, which made them scramble even faster.
"Action!" Sy Osserman bellowed.
"Janet, don't jump!" they screamed.
Joe dove forward, his arms straining to grab hold of Janet's ankles. His chest hit the roof edge, and he teetered.
But Joe's straining hands came up inches short. Janet floated in the air just beyond his grasp.
Then she dropped like a stone, and fell to the ground below.
Chapter 11
"JANET!" JOE SCREAMED.
The crowd stared silently from below, while the camera rolled, capturing Janet's fall to certain death.
Down she dropped, seeming to pick up speed as she passed the top floor, then the third, the second ...
Suddenly Ed Kemble, his arms and legs fluttering in the wind as if he were trying to fly, reached over and grabbed Janet!
Joe broke into a broad smile. This was his old screen hero Ed Kemble, coming to life before his eyes. He was taking a big risk, but by pulling Janet close to him, he was diverting her from her own air bag and over to his.
Arm in arm they descended the last two stories, to land hard, smack in the center of Ed's fully inflated air bag. Their bodies bounced up once, as if they'd hit a trampoline, then softly fell back to rest.
Instantly the crowd gathered around them. Janet gave Ed a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Ed smiled and waved at the crew. He was pleased to be cast as a hero again.
At the director's orders, the security men had brought Frank and Joe to his trailer. Osserman was now pacing back and forth before them, while the Hardys sat together on the couch, explaining the situation.
"You're saying Gil Driscoll sabotaged all the stunts?" Sy Osserman asked. "I can't believe it."
"Check out the air bag," Joe said. "It's slashed with a knife—and we saw him do it."
"We've got hard evidence against Driscoll, too," Frank added, handing the director the important canister of film. "We've recovered the missing rushes — "
Osserman's eyes lit up. "How?"
"That's not important," Frank cut in, protecting Kitt and Quinn. "What is important is that during the filming of Janet's motorcycle stunt, the camera caught Gil Driscoll sabotaging the fence."
"Are you certain it's Gil?" Osserman asked.
"He's only on film a few seconds," Joe explained. "But when you run the scene in slow motion, frame by frame, there's no doubt at all."
The director slapped his forehead. "I just can't believe it! Gil's one of the best stuntmen in the country. He earns top dollar for his craft. Why would he toss his entire career away?"
"Good question," Frank said.
"Maybe we should consider catching him to find out." Joe jumped to his feet. "He can't be far away yet. And if we call Chief Fraser to set up roadblocks — "
"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 op
en 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!
Chapter 12
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.
Scene of the Crime Page 6
