Scene of the Crime

by Franklin W. Dixon

  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."

  "We want Janet."

  "Well, then, I believe a trade can be arranged," the saboteur said. "Bring the film to the wine cellar of the Garfield mansion."

  "The wine cellar?" Frank said in disbelief. "But we'll never get in there tonight. The cops have the place wired. Any movement around the house and they'll spot us."

  "Not if you guys don't break the silent alarm," Driscoll explained. "Walk along the cliffs until you come parallel to the house. Then walk in a straight line—one behind the other, not side by side—until you reach the wine cellar door."

  "All right," Frank agreed. "But still, the cops might see us." "Let's hope for Janet's sake, they don't." Abruptly, Driscoll hung up the phone.

  Frank and Joe drove out to Mansion Row. They parked near the wooded area between the Garfield and Wedmont mansions, just as they had after the chase from the airport. Slowly, they made their way through the trees and out to the cliff.

  A heavy fog had just rolled in from the ocean, muffling all sounds. As Frank followed Joe he co
uld hardly see the rocks they clambered over. But they could hear the waves pounding below.

  They kept low and moved slowly, watching for any policemen patrolling the area.

  Finally they drew parallel to the rear of the Garfield mansion. On a balcony above, one guard, a shotgun on his lap, snored away on a reclining chair. A second officer sat across from him, reading a magazine by flashlight.

  "From here on in we've got to be absolutely quiet," Frank whispered. "Be sure to follow my footsteps exactly."

  "Okay," Joe agreed. "And once in the cellar, no sudden moves until we've got Janet safe."

  Frank nodded and led the way as the Hardys inched closer to the wine cellar door. Halfway to their destination, Joe stepped on a twig, loudly snapping it in two.

  They ducked down against the side of the house as a flashlight beam scanned the area. But after a moment, the officer on the porch seemed satisfied, and went back to his magazine.

  Frank and Joe continued on. The entrance to the wine cellar was slightly ajar. Slowly, they pulled it open and stepped down the steps. Inside, the cellar was pitch black.

  Suddenly lights flashed on. But still they saw no one.

  "Janet?" Joe called. "Are you here?"

  "'Fraid not, fellas."

  From behind the shadows of a huge wine barrel, Gil Driscoll stepped out. In one hand he held two sets of handcuffs.

  "Put 'em on," he said, tossing the cuffs over to Frank and Joe. "Lock them tight."

  Against their better judgment, Frank and Joe did what they were told.

  They didn't have a choice.

  In Gil Driscoll's other hand, aimed at their chests, was a .44 Magnum revolver!

  Chapter 13

  LOCKED IN HANDCUFFS, Frank and Joe were at Gil Driscoll's mercy. We'll have to take our time, Frank thought, and wait for an opening.

  "Did you bring the film?" Driscoll asked.

  "You said we'd make an exchange," Frank shot back. "If you want the film, release us—and Janet."

  That made Driscoll laugh uproariously.

  "When someone points a gun at you," he said, "that's not the time to bargain."

  The saboteur thumped a fist on the wine barrel. Responding to the signal, two men walked out from the shadows — the Hardys' old enemies from the airport hangar.

  Roughly, the henchmen shoved the Hardys up against a barrel and carefully frisked them.

  The taller man reached deep into Frank's safari jacket pocket.

  "Look what we have here," he said, coming away with the reel of film.

  When the man handed the canister over to Driscoll, Frank was able to get a good look at his face for the first time. It was Wesley!

  "So we meet again," Wesley said, his shaven head gleaming even in the dim light.

  The shorter man's identity was the real surprise.

  "Ty!" Frank exclaimed. The stuntman gave him a toothless grin. His injured arm seemed miraculously healed, no longer needing a sling.

  "To think I felt sorry for you hurting your arm in a sabotaged stunt," Joe said.

  Ty merely chuckled. "I act a little, too."

  "It was a neat trick," Driscoll boasted. "If Ty claimed to have been hurt and went around in a sling, who would ever suspect him?"

  "It would also free up his time to help sabotage the other stunts," Frank reasoned.

  Driscoll grinned at him. "You Harris brothers catch on pretty quick. A little too quick, I think."

  He moved up close to peer in their faces.

  "Who are you really?"

  Frank and Joe remained silent.

  "Okay." Driscoll shrugged. "We'll find out, of course, in due time. We have our ways."

  That started Wesley laughing.

  Slowly, Driscoll unwound the film and held it Up to the light. He studied the first frame carefully, and then the second. Angrily, he rolled out the entire reel to the floor.

  "Blank!" he snarled. "That's a bad move, Harris!"

  The back of his hand shot out across Frank's face. The slap hurt, but Frank stood still, his face expressionless.

  "Where is the film?" Driscoll demanded.

  "We'd have to be pretty dumb to walk in here and just hand it over to you," Joe said. "We want some assurance that Janet is okay."

  Driscoll puckered his lips, considering things.

  "Okay." He turned to Wesley and Ty. "Bring out the girl."

  The crooks went and returned from a back room with Janet. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she was gagged. But at least she seemed okay, Joe thought. There were no signs that she'd been roughed up.

  "Now," Driscoll said. "Where's the film?"

  "Release Janet, and we'll send her to get it," Frank suggested. "We'll remain here as your hostages."

  Again, Driscoll laughed. "If I let Janet go, she'll run straight to the police." The saboteur shook his head. "No, that won't do. Now that the three of you are aware of our little hideout, and know how to beat the alarm system, I can't let any of you leave."

  "Then you won't get the film back," Joe told him.

  "I was afraid of that," Driscoll said. "But I have other plans for you."

  Frank shook his head, disgusted. "No matter what your plans, there's no way you'll get away with this. Why'd you sabotage the stunts, Gil? You had everything going for you — a great career, a reputation as one of the top stuntmen in Hollywood ..."

  Driscoll smiled. He moved close to the Hardys. Then he poked the barrel of the Magnum against Joe's chest, laughing as he cocked the gun. Joe didn't breathe.

  "That was a pretty neat trick with the license plate," Frank said to Gil, trying to divert his attention. "How'd you get that fake plate, anyhow?"

  It worked. Gil lowered the gun and turned to Frank.

  "They were courtesy of the film's prop shop," Driscoll explained. "After all, it wouldn't be smart to use stolen plates on our stolen car, would it?"

  "Why are you trying to destroy the film?" Frank asked.

  "Why?" Driscoll smiled, as though he were agreeing that it was a good question. "Because I'm not one of the top stuntmen in Hollywood. I'm the greatest! Perhaps the greatest of all time. And with all my ability, am I given the authority to head the second unit? No! Am I allowed to direct the ingenious new stunts that I've conceived? No way! Instead, that washed-up old fool, Captain Ray Wynn, gets the job."

  Janet shouted at him, but it came out as a muffled cry from beneath the handkerchief in her mouth.

  Driscoll turned to face her. "Look, honey, your father is a fool, long past his prime. He couldn't fill my shoes if he were twenty years younger. Yet he gets the job of stunt director."

  The saboteur held up his forefinger and shook it to make his point. All the while he smiled and nodded his head. Frank realized they were dealing with a madman.

  "But I knew I'd get my revenge," Driscoll went on. "Not only on the captain, but also on that loudmouthed moron of a director, Osserman."

  Driscoll held his fist high over his head and stared at his white knuckles. "Sabotage! Every stunt they could come up with, we found a way to ruin it. Every single one of them."

  "And what was in it for you two?" Joe asked, turning to Wesley and Ty.

  The two henchmen glanced at each other and laughed.

  "Money," Wesley said. "More money than we can make in a lifetime of stunting."

  "And where's this money coming from?" Frank inquired.

  Ty grinned. "From the — " "You'll find out soon enough," Driscoll said, cutting off Ty.

  He turned to take in all three of his captives. "I must congratulate all of you. Your ability to escape death has been uncanny. However, that won't last much longer."

  "You made too many mistakes already, Gil," Joe told him. "Give yourself up now, before you go too far."

  Driscoll just shrugged. "Sure. I made the mistake of getting caught on film. Then, when I went to retrieve the reel from the screening room, I found it had already been stolen."

  Driscoll turned to Janet, smiling. "But with your no
te, the situation seemed crystal clear. You'd have to be taken care of, just as we took care of your father when he got too suspicious." Despite the fact that her arms were tied behind her back, Janet charged forward, with a high kick. Her foot caught Driscoll's shoulder, just missing his throat. He let out a howl, flying backward. Janet went to kick him again, but Wesley smashed her to the ground. "Joe, don't!" Frank shouted. But when he saw Janet being pushed around, Joe lost control. He lowered his shoulder and barreled into Wesley, sending him falling back against a crate of wine bottles.

  "Hold it right there!" Ty ordered, holding a gun smack up against Joe's forehead.

  Frank stepped forward, but Driscoll scooped up the Magnum. "Don't be stupid, Harris."

  "I think we'd better follow orders," Frank whispered.

  "Too bad," Ty said. "We owe you guys a couple of bruises "Yeah," Wesley agreed, rising to his feet. "Let's work them over."

  "Not just yet," Driscoll told them. "I have a far more interesting proposition for our heroic young stuntmen."

  Wesley and Ty grabbed Frank and Joe and pushed them down hard onto the cold stone floor. Driscoll sat before them. This time he kept the gun aimed on them.

  "Take Janet back," Driscoll ordered his men, "and stay with her while I talk business with Frank and Joe."

  Janet struggled, but the two stunters were too strong for her. Ty laughed as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back into the shadows.

  "We have a wonderful situation on our hands," Driscoll told the Hardys once his henchmen had closed the door behind them. "All around us, the police patrol the grounds, completely unaware that we're here."

  "How did you find the way to bypass the silent alarm?" Frank inquired.

  Driscoll waved the question off. "None of your business. The important thing is, there are no police inside the mansion at night. The entire house is open to us. And do you know what they keep inside the Garfield mansion?"

  Joe nodded. "The Newbridge jewels."

  A smile spread across Driscoll's face. "Very good. You guys have been doing your homework."