Scene of the Crime

by Franklin W. Dixon

  He grinned at Frank, trying to cheer him up. But his brother glumly stared out the barred window. "Why do you suppose Driscoll's guys tipped off the cops?" Frank asked after a while.

  "You've got me," Joe said.

  Frank shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense. They could have had the jewels."

  Joe sat across from Frank on his thin mattress. "That's not the only thing that doesn't make sense," he added. "When you handed Driscoll the sack, he didn't even look inside. Instead, he tried to push me over the balcony rail, and he made a run for it. Why was he running? He had us at gunpoint."

  Frank slapped his knee. "He was running because he knew the police would arrive any second, and he had to make his escape."

  "Then why not take the jewels?" Joe asked, confused.

  "He left them behind so we'd be framed." Abruptly, Frank rose from his mattress and paced back and forth across the cell. "That means Driscoll wasn't really interested in the Garfield collection after all." Frank smiled at his realization. "What he was interested in was our method for stealing them!"

  "That's why he relayed every move we made over the walkie-talkie," Joe said. "No doubt Wesley took careful notes. All of which leaves me with just one question Why?"

  "I've been wondering myself," Frank said. "If Driscoll and company wanted to learn our method, they could only have one scheme in mind."

  "Another robbery," Joe reasoned.

  "You got it!" Frank said.

  "Okay," Joe agreed. "But where?" Frank laughed, making Joe stare. Being thrown in a jail cell didn't usually put Frank in a good mood.

  "Chief Archie Fraser gave us the answer himself," Frank said. "Remember when he told us about the Newbridge jewels, saying the most precious gems were displayed in the Wedmont mansion?"

  "And that all the mansions had similar layouts," Joe said, "meaning they could rob the Wedmonts the exact same way we robbed the Garfields."

  Frank dropped to his mattress and held his head in his hands. "I just realized something," he muttered. "The chief told us the Wedmonts wouldn't be back in Newbridge till the twenty-fifth."

  "That's tomorrow, Sunday," Joe said. "Well, I think it is. It's one in the morning now, so it's Saturday the twenty-fourth."

  Frank nodded. "Which means the theft must take place between now and the morning."

  Joe jumped up. "We've got to warn Fraser."

  "I don't think he's exactly ready to believe us," Frank said. "What makes it worse is that if Driscoll pulls the robbery off, we get the blame."

  "But why?" Joe cried desperately. "We're locked in jail. How could we commit the crime?"

  "Since the Wedmont mansion has been empty all month," Frank explained, "the police will believe that the house was robbed before the Garfield mansion. And since they've already caught us for one theft, naturally they'll believe we knocked off the Wedmont place as well."

  Archie Fraser was willing to give Frank and Joe another interview. But when he heard their warning instead of the confession he expected, the chief's patience disappeared.

  "Look here, Harris, or Hardy, or whoever you've decided to be," Fraser bellowed at Frank. "I don't want to hear any more fantastic stories. The Wedmont mansion is completely secure."

  "That's what you said about the Garfield mansion," Joe pointed out.

  Fraser grew defensive. "It was secure. We caught you red-handed, didn't we?"

  "Only because Gil Driscoll's men turned us in," Joe said.

  "Oh, that's right, Gil Driscoll, the criminal mastermind." Fraser pounded his desk. "Listen, you guys will have to do better than that."

  He turned to the officer who had brought the Hardys out from the cell. "Take them back," Fraser ordered. "And I don't want to see these two out of their cells until they go before the judge on Monday morning."

  "Believe me, Chief," Frank urged. "Just this night you've got to provide extra security for the Wedmont estate." The officer grabbed Frank's arm. "You've got to!"

  Hours of monotony followed as Frank and Joe spent all of Saturday trapped in their cell. As the sun went down for the evening, their guard approached to inform them that they had visitors.

  The Hardys looked at each other, astounded. They had no idea anyone in Newbridge knew of their arrest, except for Sy Osserman, and surely he wouldn't be coming to see them now.

  "Maybe Dad sent us someone who can help," Joe said, hope rising in his eyes.

  But when the outer door opened, Frank and Joe were surprised to see Burke Quinn and Kitt Macklin.

  "I always wanted to meet actual jailbirds," Kitt said sweetly.

  The stars sat across a table from Frank and Joe, while a guard watched from beside the door.

  "How'd you hear about us?" Frank asked in a whisper.

  "Everyone on the set is talking about your arrest," Kitt said.

  "We appreciate the way you got the missing film back to Sy Osserman without pinning any of the blame on us," Quinn said with a grin.

  "So if there's anything we can do for you, let us know," Kitt offered.

  "If only there were," Joe said.

  "There might be something," Quinn told him.

  Slowly he reached into his pants pocket, then coughed, raising his hand to cover his mouth. A quick twist showed Frank and Joe what he was holding. Burke had smuggled in a cherry tomato!

  "These local cops were a little reluctant to search a big star like me," Quinn bragged.

  "Listen, Burke," Frank began. "Don't be fool — "

  "Okay, time's up," the guard growled, coming up behind them.

  Quinn and Kitt stood. Then, as they turned to leave, the actor brought back his hand.

  "No!" Frank shouted.

  But it was too late. Quinn threw the cherry tomato down at the guard's feet.

  Poof! A cloud of thick red smoke rose up. The officer coughed hard, stumbling blindly ahead.

  "Frank! Joe! Run!" Quinn shouted.

  Frank and Joe didn't move. Out from the smoke screen came the officer, gun in hand. He wavered blindly, his eyes watering.

  But he obviously made out Burke Quinn's shape. His weapon came up, pointed directly at the actor's head!

  Chapter 16

  BURKE QUINN STARED terrified down the barrel of the guard's gun. Frantically, he waved his arms before his face and shook his head. The guard, still dazed from the smoke of the cherry tomato, drew back the trigger!

  But the gun didn't fire. Leaping over the table, Frank dive-tackled the guard, grabbed his gun hand, and knocked the weapon to the ground.

  The guard reeled back but slammed his fist into Frank's jaw. Dazed, Frank still kept the officer in a bear hug. Got to stop him from ringing the alarm for help, he thought.

  He swung the guard around, then released him with a hard shove. The guard tottered back, crashing to the floor of the open holding cell. Before he could get to his feet, Joe raced over to the gate and slammed it shut.

  In a fury, the guard banged ferociously on the bars.

  "Relax," Joe told him. "You've got a cell all to yourself. I had to share mine."

  Frank was in no mood for humor. He rubbed his sore jaw, then grabbed Burke Quinn by the arm. "This is some mess you've gotten us in," he barked at the star. "We've just broken the law. Now we're escaped prisoners, and you two are accomplices."

  "We can sort all that out later," Joe told him. "Right now, let's get out of here."

  "Right," Frank agreed. "We've got a robbery to stop."

  He turned to Burke and Kitt. "No one suspects you've done anything wrong," Frank told them. "You two can walk right out the front door. Act natural, as if nothing's happened. Then get your car and bring it around to the back entrance. And be sure to keep the motor running."

  Frank and Joe waited a few minutes until they saw Burke and Kitt through the window, driving a gray Mercedes convertible around the back.

  "Now it's our turn," Frank said. "We'll play it casual, walking out as if we're perfectly free to leave. Maybe we'll get to the door with no interference
."

  "And what if we don't?" Joe asked.

  Frank's face went grim. "Then we'll do what we have to do."

  To reach the back door, they had to walk down a long hallway, turn a corner and climb a staircase, then follow another hall to the exit. Fortunately, they didn't encounter any guards until they rounded the bend. One officer sat by the staircase, but he merely raised his eyes from his newspaper and nodded at the Hardys as they strolled past him onto the stairs.

  When they reached the landing, the doorway was in sight. So were the two burly officers sitting on either side of the door.

  "Great," Joe whispered.

  Slowly the Hardys came up to the officers. The cops waited motionless, watching Frank and Joe.

  "Visitor's pass, please," the guard on the left asked Joe.

  Joe reached down as though to check his pockets. Then he suddenly grabbed the policeman by the arm and jerked him from his seat onto the floor.

  The other guard jumped up, his hand going for his holster. But a karate blow from Frank numbed the cop's arm, and another sent the officer sprawling on the ground.

  Frank and Joe dashed through the door, sprinting for the waiting Mercedes. The cops shouted after them as they vaulted into the convertible, squeezing in behind Quinn and Kitt.

  "Take off!" Frank ordered.

  Tires squealed as Quinn floored the gas and sped away. In the distance they heard sirens wailing as the police began their pursuit.

  "Turn some corners," Frank told Quinn. "Lose them!"

  Quinn couldn't have been more pleased. Like a professional race driver, he sliced the Mercedes around sharp curves, darting up and down the narrow streets of Newbridge.

  "All right." Frank placed an arm on Quinn's shoulder. "You can slow down now. We've lost them."

  "Hey," Quinn complained, "I was having fun."

  The Hardys had the actor take them around to Mansion Row.

  "I'd lay low for twenty-four hours," Frank advised the two stars as he and Joe jumped out of the car. "By that time we should have this entire mess cleared up."

  Quinn saluted them army style, and Kitt blew each of them a kiss as they drove off.

  Once the Mercedes was gone, Frank and Joe hit the wooded trail between the Garfield and Wedmont mansions. From the edge of the trees, they could see the Wedmont house, silhouetted in the darkness.

  "Looks like Chief Fraser didn't take our advice," Frank said. "I don't see an officer in sight."

  Joe sighed. "Driscoll's luck is still running high."

  Since the Wedmont mansion wasn't open to the film crew, the Hardys were able to approach the house without fear of running through a gauntlet of police.

  "Our only problem will be getting into the mansion itself," Frank said.

  But when they reached the front entrance, they were amazed to find the door slightly ajar!

  "Your hunch was right, Frank," Joe told him. "Now we know for sure that Driscoll and his boys are inside."

  Frank examined the doorway. An extra wire, which didn't seem to be part of the alarm system, was attached to the top of the door.

  "They've enlarged the alarm circuit," Frank explained, tracing the wire. "That lets them open the door enough to squeeze inside without triggering the alarm."

  "Then suck in your gut," Joe whispered. "We'll go in the same way."

  As Archie Fraser had told them, the floor plans of the two mansions were similar. Even with the lights off, Frank and Joe had no trouble finding their way to the main corridor..

  They paused at the kitchen door to look in— and found two German shepherds sprawled silently on the floor.

  Joe pointed to some scraps of meat on the floor. "They used the steak trick again," he said in a low voice. "These dogs are out for the night." They continued down the corridor, clinging to the walls so they wouldn't be seen by Driscoll and his men.

  "Look," Joe whispered as they slowly ascended the staircase. "There's Janet!"

  The stunt girl sat on the stairs with her hands tied behind her back. Gil Driscoll was by her side, issuing instructions to Wesley and Ty.

  Hanging from the ropes over the center of the jewel case, his two henchmen were duplicating the robbery Frank and Joe had perfected in the Garfield mansion.

  "I'll grab Driscoll," Frank decided. "You stop Wesley and Ty from sliding back to the landing."

  "Sure thing," Joe said, rubbing his palms in anticipation. "Let's go!"

  Driscoll stared in utter disbelief as the Hardys charged up the stairs. He'd been sure Frank and Joe would be out of their hair. Now shock slowed his reaction. He went for the gun wedged in his belt, but by the time the Magnum was out, Frank had grabbed his wrist.

  Driscoll smashed a fist into Frank's rib cage. The blow made Frank wince, but still he kept his grip on Driscoll's hand. Steadily, he pulled the saboteur over to the edge of the banister and slammed his hand down hard against the rail. The gun dropped to the floor below.

  Still, Driscoll wasn't finished. His free arm reached around Frank's neck, pulling him into a headlock. Frank elbowed him hard in the stomach, yet he couldn't break free. He drew back his arm for another hard poke, when suddenly Gil Driscoll released Frank, cried out in pain, and went rolling down the stairs.

  Looking up, Frank realized the source of Driscoll's discomfort. Janet Wynn stood before him with a wide smile on her face. She had reared back like a football kicker and booted Driscoll behind the knee. The saboteur moaned loudly, clasping his leg.

  Meanwhile, Wesley and Ty placed the jewel heist on hold as they desperately tried to slide back on their pulleys to reach the landing.

  Before they'd traveled ten feet, Joe cut them off. He grabbed the ends of the support ropes, shaking them up and down. The two stunters could do nothing more than hold on for dear life.

  As a finishing touch, Joe twisted the ropes into a huge knot. The henchmen became so entangled that the pulleys wouldn't roll. Helplessly, they dangled in midair.

  "Hang in there, guys," Joe called out.

  He turned and untied Janet's wrists while Frank went down and picked up Driscoll's gun. The saboteur looked up to find Frank, Joe, and Janet all standing menacingly over him.

  "Start talking," Frank commanded. "Who's the real brains of this operation?"

  "What do you mean?" Driscoll blustered. "I'm running this show."

  Even Joe and Janet stared incredulously at Frank. "If he's not in charge, who is?" Janet asked. "The very man who saved your life," Frank told her.

  "Ed Kemble?" Joe was horrified that Frank was accusing his old hero. "How do you figure that?"

  "There were too many little indicators that slowly added up," Frank explained. "First, Ed Kemble always seemed to be hanging around with the stuntmen. So he could easily have coordinated these guys' activities.

  "Second, Gil seemed to protest a little too much when Ed was made stunt captain. That made me suspicious, since they had been such good friends."

  "Third, there's the whole jewel heist setup. Gil kept referring to it as 'our' plan. This whole complex scheme needed information that would be tough for a bunch of stuntmen to get—but easy for a star. You'd just about have to live here to discover a way around the alarm system. If we asked Sy Osserman, I'd bet one of his stars convinced him to rent the Garfield mansion, specifically. And if we interviewed the Garfields, we'd find that Ed Kemble had been a guest sometime prior to the filming."

  "It was last September, to be exact."

  Frank and Joe whirled. Ed Kemble stepped out of the shadows, grabbing Janet around the throat and holding a revolver to her head. "Drop the gun," he ordered. Immediately, Frank tossed down his revolver.

  "I must congratulate you, Frank," Ed Kemble said. "That was fine deductive reasoning. Have you any more points to add?"

  "Just one," Frank told him solemnly. "The clinching point. When you and Janet performed the fall from the building, you heard us shouting and knew that we were on to the fact that the stunt had been sabotaged.

  "So in midai
r, you came up with a master stroke. To divert any suspicion away from yourself, you saved Janet. You were almost perfect." "Almost?" Kemble asked, somewhat hurt. "Yes," Frank insisted. "Only someone who knew that her air bag had been deflated would have thought to draw Janet over to the safe one." Joe's eyes lit up. "Right! I was too busy admiring the old hero here to realize that."

  "Old?" Ed Kemble gritted his teeth. "You'll regret that remark."

  Ed ordered Gil Driscoll to untangle the support ropes. Then he told Wesley and Ty to complete the robbery. The henchmen got back to work. Before long, they swung back over the railing with a sack of jewels.

  Ed took the goods from the bag and examined them carefully.

  "Beautiful," he marveled. "Absolutely exquisite. And far more valuable than those gems we forfeited at the Garfield place."

  He ordered Frank and Joe to walk ahead of him up another flight of stairs. From the top floor, the thieves directed them to an outdoor balcony.

  Joe looked down and gulped. The balcony jutted out from the side of the mansion, directly overlooking the cliff. It was a long fall to the hard rocks and raging surf below.

  Janet screamed as Ed Kemble pushed her hard against the low railing. Joe reached out and grabbed her just before she fell over.

  Ed and Driscoll spread out to cover the three young people with their guns.

  "It's such a shame that we'll have to sacrifice a few of the less precious gems." Kemble tossed a few of the valuables to Frank and Joe.

  "But it's all part of my brilliant new plan," the actor assured them. "Since the police already believe that you're jewel thieves, we're going to provide them with more proof."

  "At the same time taking the blame off yourselves," Frank growled.

  "My thought exactly." Kemble grinned. "Tomorrow when the robbery is discovered, the police will also find your bodies smashed against the rocks below. With the jewels in your pockets, it will appear that the three of you had an accident escaping from your second heist. What's more, the rest of the jewels will never have to be accounted for, because everyone will believe they were washed out to sea."