The Spy That Never Lies

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Just make sure my mother knows where you’ve taken me,” Cindy said. She and Missy got into the other squad car.

  As the Hardys got into the back of the cruiser, Joe turned to Frank and said, “Well, this case just took a turn for the worse.”

  • • •

  Forty-five minutes later the brothers found themselves sitting in an interview room at the Bayport PD. Across the table from them sat Con Riley, their main contact on the police force.

  “I think I can get the chief to go easy on you,” Con said. “Your father’s with him now, but you guys really stepped over the line this time. Whatever possessed you to chase them like that?”

  “They threw bottles at a friend of ours last night and hit him on the head,” Joe said. “What were we supposed to do, just let them get away?”

  “You and your friend should have reported the attack when it happened. Now it’s just your word against Cindy’s—and her mother’s a councilwoman.”

  “We had no idea her mother was Councilwoman Hamilton,” Frank said. “We didn’t even know who was in the car until it blew a tire and stopped.”

  “The point is,” Con said, “that you shouldn’t have been chasing them in the first place. You should have reported this to the police rather than zooming around the countryside like NASCAR drivers.”

  Joe bristled. “But their license plate was covered with mud, just like it was last night. We couldn’t report them—we didn’t know who they were.”

  “But you should have reported the incident, nonetheless,” Con said sternly. “We don’t have a police or even a hospital record that an attack happened. We have nothing.”

  Frank frowned. He knew Con was right. They should have insisted that Jake go to a hospital to report the incident.

  “What about covering the license plate with mud,” Frank said. “That’s pretty suspicious, isn’t it?”

  “The girls say that happened when you chased them down that dirt road.”

  “We weren’t chasing them,” Joe said, stubbornly folding his arms across his chest. “We were trying to apprehend them.”

  “For a crime you didn’t report?” Con said. “I expect better of you boys.”

  Frank put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “We expect better of ourselves, too.”

  Con leaned back. “Look,” he said, “I know you boys, and I’m inclined to believe your explanation of events. But Chief Collig isn’t so generous—you know how he feels about amateurs. Plus, he’s got the tape evidence against you.”

  “What tape evidence?” Joe and Frank asked simultaneously.

  “The Securitech tapes of the beginning and end of the chase,” Con said.

  “Then you can see them tearing around the mall parking lot like madwomen.”

  Con shook his head. “I’m afraid not. There are no cameras in the mall lot. What the tape shows is you chasing them down the highway outside the mall. We lost you for a while, and then picked up the chase again when both cars skidded onto Barmet Boulevard. The tapes look pretty bad for you.”

  Both brothers slumped in their chairs. “Then the tapes are lying,” Joe said.

  “Or at least,” Frank added, “they don’t show the whole truth.”

  Con sighed. “Try convincing the chief of that.”

  The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Then the door opened and Fenton Hardy stepped in. Frank and Joe’s father looked grim. “I think I’ve got things squared with Chief Collig,” he said. “He’s willing to release you into my custody.”

  “What about Cindy and her friend?” Joe asked.

  “I think they’re being released, too,” Mr. Hardy said. “But I wouldn’t worry about them right now. You boys are in enough trouble on your own.”

  Joe and Frank nodded. “That tape doesn’t show the whole story, Dad,” Frank said.

  “Be that as it may,” Mr. Hardy said, “we should get out of here before the chief changes his mind and decides to charge you with endangerment or reckless driving. Let’s go.”

  Both Hardys stood and followed their dad to the door. As he put his hand on the knob, Fenton Hardy turned back to Con Riley. “Thanks for keeping things under control, Con,” he said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Frank added.

  Con nodded. “Just keep your noses clean,” he said. “Hamilton knows how to play hard ball.”

  “So do we,” Joe said under his breath, but if anyone heard, he didn’t respond.

  As the Hardys walked to the front door of the station, a commotion at the front desk caught their attention.

  “I can’t believe you’re letting them go.” Councilwoman Hamilton’s voice rose above the hustle and bustle of the station house. “They disrupt our press conference this morning, the chase my daughter this afternoon! What does someone have to do in this town before they’re arrested?!”

  Joe seemed about to say something, but Fenton Hardy put a hand on his son’s shoulder and steered him and Frank toward the door. “You can’t win a PR battle with her,” Mr. Hardy whispered.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re at the bottom of the recent wave of vandalism, too,” Hamilton added. Cindy and Missy were standing beside her, looking smug. Cindy stuck her tongue out at Frank as the Hardys went out the door.

  As they exited, they saw a gang of reporters’ vans pull up to the curb. At a nod from Fenton, the three of them headed away from the descending mob. “Things are going to be pretty hot for you two the next couple of days,” Mr. Hardy said.

  “We can handle it, Dad,” Frank answered.

  “We didn’t do what they said,” Joe added. “Those tapes don’t show the whole story.”

  “I believe you,” Fenton said. “I’m going to look into the legalities of this taping business a bit further. I haven’t been comfortable with it, but now . . .” He let his voice trail off. “In any case,” he continued, “you boys need to lay low for a while.”

  “We will, Dad,” Frank said.

  “Good,” Mr. Hardy said. “Your mother and I will see what we can do, but we can’t solve this problem for you. You’ve made a powerful enemy in Councilwoman Hamilton. Try to stay out of her way.”

  Both Hardys nodded. “We will,” they said.

  “Good,” Mr. Hardy said. “I got your van out of impound. It’s up the street. Probably you should just head home.”

  “We will,” Frank said, “but we left some friends hanging at the mall. We need to check in with them first.”

  “Don’t worry,” Joe said. “We’ll keep our noses clean.”

  “See that you do,” Mr. Hardy said. He left the boys at the van and walked down the street to his car.

  “Well,” Joe said as he and Frank got into the van, “this has been one of the worst days of my life.”

  Frank slipped behind the wheel and said, “The day’s not over yet.”

  When they got to the mall they found Jamal sitting on a bench outside the main entrance. “I was wondering what happened to you guys,” he said, just a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

  “Sorry about that,” Frank said, “we kind of got carried away.”

  “By the police,” Joe added.

  Jamal’s eyebrows arched. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story,” Joe said. “We’ll fill you in later. Where are Vanessa and Jake?”

  “Jake never showed,” Jamal said. “We tried to get him on the phone, but there was no answer. After a while we decided that Vanessa would go and look for him while I waited here for you.”

  “You loaned her your car?” Joe said in mock horror. “Pretty bold move, Hawkins.”

  Jamal chuckled and shook his head.

  “Can we call her on your cell phone?” Frank asked.

  Jamal shook his head and took the phone out of his pocket. “Nope. I kept the phone in case you tried to call.”

  “Guess we should have,” Frank said. “Where was Vanessa going to check first?”

  “Work, I guess. Then a couple of places Jake hangs out. M
aybe he had trouble getting a cab out here or something.”

  “He could have taken a bus,” Joe said.

  “I know,” Jamal replied. “But you know how Jake’s been acting lately. Vanessa said he’d forget his head if it wasn’t attached. I’m supposed to meet her back at my house later.”

  “Well, why don’t we check Jake’s apartment,” Frank said. “We can call on the way there.”

  “Wouldn’t he answer the phone?” Jamal said.

  “Maybe he unplugged it,” Joe said. “And he did get a pretty nasty knock on the head the other night.”

  Jamal nodded agreement and the three of them piled into the Hardys’ van. Twenty minutes later they pulled up outside Jake’s apartment. Jamal spotted his car in the lot.

  “Hey, Vanessa must be here,” he said.

  “Maybe she’s found Jake,” Joe said.

  “Let’s hope,” Frank said. The three of them got out of the car and made their way upstairs to Jake’s apartment. When they got to the door, they found Vanessa turning the knob, though they couldn’t tell if she was going out or in.

  “Find him?” Jamal asked.

  His voice startled Vanessa, and she jumped before recovering her wits. “Not yet,” she said. “He wasn’t at work or any of his usual hangouts. I just got here.”

  Frank stepped forward. “Is the door unlocked?” he asked. Vanessa nodded. “Let’s check it out,” Frank said.

  He opened the door, and all four of them went in. Joe turned on the lights as they entered.

  Jake was collapsed on the floor in the middle of a pile of papers.

  Vanessa gasped. “He’s not breathing!”

  8 Urgent Mystery

  Joe and Frank rushed forward and knelt to check on Jake. Frank lifted one wrist to check his pulse, and Joe bent forward to look for other signs of life.

  After a few moments Joe said, “He’s alive, but his breathing is very shallow.”

  Frank turned to Jamal and said, “Call nine-one-one.”

  Jamal found the phone and dialed.

  “What do you think happened?” Vanessa asked.

  “We can’t be sure, yet,” Frank said. “Someone could have attacked him, but maybe he’s just exhausted.”

  “He didn’t look very well when we saw him earlier today,” Joe put in.

  “The ambulance is on the way,” Jamal said, hanging up the phone.

  “Is there anything else we should do?” Vanessa asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Joe said. “Jake doesn’t seem to be in any distress. It would probably be a mistake to move him. We’d better just wait and let the paramedics do their job.”

  It didn’t take long for the ambulance to arrive. Joe rode in the ambulance with Jake. Jamal took Vanessa and Frank in his car. Frank figured he’d come back for the van later. The hospital wasn’t far from campus.

  The Hardys and their friends had to stay in the waiting room while the doctors examined Jake. Half an hour later a young doctor came out to talk with them.

  “Your friend’s going to be okay,” the doctor said. His name tag read Dr. Sean Kendall. “Looks like he got a pretty nasty bump on the head sometime recently.”

  “Last night,” Joe said. “He was hit by some bottles.”

  “He probably should have come in sooner,” Dr. Kendall said. “He’s pretty dehydrated, too, and seems to be suffering from exhaustion.”

  “How soon can he go home?” Vanessa asked.

  “He could probably go home right now, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Dr. Kendall said. “We’d like to keep him overnight for observation.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Frank said.

  “Does he have any relatives in the area?” the doctor asked.

  “No,” Vanessa replied. “They all live out of state. Why?”

  “Just a precaution,” Dr. Kendall said. “We got his school insurance information, so he’s covered, but it’s always nice to have a contact who knows his medical history. We’ll try to track his folks down through the insurance company.”

  He scanned the Hardys and their friends. “You folks should probably get some rest, too. You look pretty worn out yourselves. Exams?”

  “Some school stuff, yeah,” Joe said.

  “Come on,” Frank said. “We can check in on Jake tomorrow morning.” He and the others turned and headed for the door.

  When they got outside, it was already dark. Jamal said, “Do you guys want a lift back to your van?”

  Frank shook his head. “It’s not that far, and we could use the exercise.”

  “Okay,” Jamal said. “I’ll take Vanessa to her dorm. We can check back with each other tomorrow.”

  “Good idea,” Joe said.

  Vanessa and Jamal headed for Jamal’s car, and the Hardys began to walk back to Jake’s apartment.

  “We’re not that starved for exercise, you know,” Joe said.

  “I know,” Frank replied, “but I figured a walk might clear our heads.”

  “This case sure is a puzzler,” Joe said. “We still don’t know what’s going on with Jake, but things seem to be getting more complicated by the minute. I mean, who would have guessed that Cindy was the councilwoman’s daughter?”

  “And who’d have guessed that she threw those bottles at Jake?” Frank said. “The question is, why did she do it? A girlfriend/boyfriend thing maybe?”

  “They did break up,” Joe said, “but that’s about all we know. And she might not have been the one who threw the bottle. Maybe Cindy wasn’t even in the car last night.”

  Frank nodded. “You mean, she might have lent the car to Missy?”

  “Or somebody else. Or the Kings could have ‘borrowed’ the car without Cindy even knowing.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Frank said. “But if that’s so, why did Cindy flee when we tried to get close to her car at the mall today?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. “Guilt seems the most likely explanation, but . . .”

  “One thing’s for sure,” Frank said, “it won’t get any easier to figure this out with Councilwoman Hamilton stirring things up.”

  Joe looked up, checking for cameras on the light poles as they walked. He didn’t see any. “Politics,” he said. “I’m not sure whether to wish for more of those cameras, or wish they’d just disappear.”

  “I don’t think we can count on Securitech to get to the bottom of this, Joe. We’ll probably have to do it ourselves.”

  Joe nodded. “As usual.”

  “Another thing’s been bugging me,” Frank said. “Who are the vandals? Is Cindy one of them? The Kings? Someone else? Exactly what acts of vandalism have been committed lately? And are the vandals carrying out a grudge against Councilwoman Hamilton, or Securitech, or are they just mad at the world?”

  “You know, Frank, it would make sense if Cindy was involved. A lot of kids don’t get along with their parents.”

  “Or their ex-boyfriends,” Frank added. “Could be. Maybe she’s the source of Jake’s troubles. That would explain why he doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I know I don’t feel much like talking if Callie and I have a fight.” Callie Shaw was Frank’s girlfriend.

  “Or me and Iola,” Joe said, referring to his own girlfriend, Iola Morton. “But we know Jake’s been having trouble at school, too. And missing that rally this morning couldn’t have helped his status at work.”

  “So, one way or the other, Jake’s in trouble. I don’t know if we can sort it out for him.”

  Joe shook his head. “I don’t know, either. We should keep trying, though.” He stopped and thought a moment. “You know,” he finally said, “it would be pretty ironic if Cindy were part of the teen crime wave that her mother is trying to prevent.”

  “Yeah, it would,” Frank said. “But as you said, a lot of kids don’t get along with their folks.”

  “I’m glad our parents are so reasonable,” Joe said.

  Frank nodded. “Me, too. I was pretty sure Dad would bawl us out for t
he business with the cops, but he took it all pretty calmly.”

  “I think this Securitech business has him a bit worried,” Joe said. “I’m just glad he’s on our side.”

  They began walking again. Just before they came to the edge of campus nearest to the hospital, Harley Bettis and Vince Morelli cruised by on their motorcycles. The Kings sneered at the Hardys when they saw them.

  “Let me wipe the smiles off their ugly faces,” Joe said, but Frank held him back.

  “No, Joe,” he said. “Let’s just head for home. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  “Those guys are like cockroaches,” Joe said, fuming. “They just keep popping up.”

  The brothers had to cross the BIT campus on their way to Jake’s apartment. As they walked across the broad lawn, Joe noted the Securitech cameras. He pointed one out to Frank.

  “Why don’t I feel safer?” Joe asked. Frank chuckled.

  At the edge of the campus, they spotted Professor Firestein dressed in a blue jogging suit. He wasn’t jogging, though, just walking.

  Frank nudged his brother. “Hey, let’s make sure Jake dropped off his paper,” he said. Joe and Frank walked toward Firestein. “Professor,” Frank called.

  Firestein looked in their direction. “Do you need something?” he asked, slightly perturbed. “My hours are posted on my office door.”

  “We’re not students,” Joe said. “We were just wondering if Jake Martins dropped his paper off. He wasn’t feeling well and had to go to the hospital. We were hoping he delivered the paper before he got sick.”

  “I remember you now,” Firestein said. “You’re friends of his. I talked to you earlier in the day. Yes. I got the paper. He got it in on time—barely. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to continue my regimen.” He picked up his pace and jogged away from the Hardys. After he’d gone just a short distance, though, he slowed down again.

  Joe and Frank followed him with their eyes.

  “Don’t ask if Jake is okay or anything,” Joe said sarcastically.

  “I can see he’s not going to win any Teacher of the Year awards,” Frank added. “Think he treats everyone that way, or just Jake’s friends?”