The Spy That Never Lies

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Judging from what Vanessa said, I’d say everyone. Come on, Frank, let’s get the van and head for home.”

  Ten minutes later they reached Jake’s apartment building and reclaimed their van. As they climbed in, Jay Stone called down to them from his apartment window.

  “Hey, Hardy boys—saw you on TV. Didn’t you bring the media with you this time? Or are you waiting for another ambulance?”

  The brothers ignored him and drove off.

  Later that evening, after dinner, they were sitting in their own living room.

  “What a lot of problems,” Frank said. “Jake, Securitech, BIT, Hamilton, Cindy, the Kings . . . It’s like a huge puzzle, but I have no idea how to begin putting the pieces together. Do you think we’re trying to make a mystery where there isn’t one, Joe?”

  Joe yawned. “Could be,” he said. “Maybe Jake is just burned out from work and school. That doesn’t explain who the vandals are or who threw those bottles at him, or why. Could be Cindy, could have been Missy or one of the Kings, or even someone we haven’t thought of yet. We just don’t have enough information to figure it out.”

  Frank got up and stretched. “Maybe our brains will work better tomorrow. I’m heading for a good book and a good night’s sleep.”

  Joe got off the couch and headed for his room, as well. “Me, too,” he said. “Things will probably look better in the morning.”

  • • •

  The brothers were woken next morning by their dad calling to them from the hall.

  “Frank, Joe,” Fenton Hardy said, “come out here a minute, will you?”

  The Hardys walked sleepily into the hall.

  “What’s up, Dad?” Frank asked.

  “Con’s here to see you,” he said.

  “Con?” Frank said. “What’s he doing here this time of the morning?”

  “He’s not paying a social call,” Fenton Hardy said, his voice grim. “He wants you to answer a few questions.”

  9 Suspects List

  “What does Con want, Dad?” Joe asked.

  “He won’t say,” Mr. Hardy said. “Do you want me to call our lawyer?”

  Frank and Joe shook their heads. “That’s not necessary, thanks,” Frank said.

  “We haven’t done anything,” Joe added.

  “Well, maybe I can sit in on the questioning then,” Mr. Hardy said. “I’ll go talk to Con while you get dressed. We’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  A short while later Joe and Frank found their father and Con Riley seated in the study. Both held steaming cups of coffee. Glasses of orange juice for Joe and Frank were set on coasters atop Fenton Hardy’s desk. The brothers each took one and then sat down.

  “What’s up, Con?” Joe asked.

  “Boys,” Con said, “we had some trouble last night, and we were wondering where you were when it happened.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Frank asked.

  “A break-in at Councilwoman Hamilton’s office,” Con said. “Since you had some trouble with her and her daughter yesterday, we have to question you about it. Where were you around seven fifteen last night?”

  Frank and Joe thought for a minute. “We were walking back to the BIT campus from the hospital,” Joe said. “We had to take our friend Jake there. He was pretty sick.”

  “Do you have any witnesses?” Con asked.

  “Professor Firestein saw us,” Frank said. “But that would have been closer to seven-thirty. Jamal and Vanessa left us at the hospital just before seven, though. They know we didn’t have our car with us.”

  “I hope that will be good enough to satisfy the councilwoman,” Con said, rising from his chair.

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  “Just that Councilwoman Hamilton has it in her head that you two were behind the break in.”

  “Her office is downtown, isn’t it?” Fenton Hardy said. “There should be a Securitech tape showing exactly who broke in. It doesn’t show Frank and Joe, does it?”

  “Well . . .” Con said, hesitating. “There’s a problem there.”

  “What kind of problem?” all three Hardys said together.

  “The Securitech system was down in that area last night,” Con said. “Just a temporary glitch in the programming, they say.”

  “But long enough for a crime to happen to the system’s major supporter,” Frank said.

  Con nodded. “Pretty frustrating, really,” he said.

  “Quite a coincidence,” Mr. Hardy said.

  “Yeah,” Joe agreed, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Was anything taken?” Frank asked.

  Con straightened his uniform. “No. Nothing. The place was pretty badly trashed, though—papers scattered everywhere, furniture and computers smashed. A real mess.”

  “I’m betting her daughter did it,” Joe said.

  “What?” Con asked, puzzled.

  “Joe’s right,” Frank said. “It could be Cindy Hamilton. All this would make sense if she’s angry at her mother for some reason. Maybe she wasn’t trying to hit Jake the other night. He was carrying one of her mom’s flyers at the time. Maybe she was just lashing out at her mom.”

  “That would explain the slashed posters, too,” Joe said. “Remember the first night we met her? When we went into Jake’s apartment that night, the poster on that tree was okay. Then we met Cindy. When we came out again, the poster had been slashed.”

  “You boys don’t have proof of any of this,” Con said.

  “Not yet,” Frank said.

  “But we will,” Joe added.

  “Now, boys,” Con said, “you should keep your noses out of this. The police can handle it.”

  “The police want our necks in a noose,” Joe said angrily. “So does Councilwoman Hamilton.”

  “Calm down, Joe,” Fenton Hardy said. “There’s nothing to be gained by getting all worked up.” He winked at his sons. “I’m sure the police can handle the situation. Why don’t you just sit tight for a while.”

  “Your dad’s right, guys,” Con said. “Relax. Take it easy. We can handle this. We don’t have any direct evidence against you, and I’ll make sure the councilwoman doesn’t railroad you into jail. Just relax and take it easy. Stay home. Hang with your friends. But keep your noses out of police business.”

  Frank and Joe glanced at their dad, who nodded.

  “Yeah. Okay,” Frank said.

  Con went to the door. “All right, then. Don’t bother getting up. I can find my way out. And, Fenton, thank your lovely wife for the coffee. It was excellent.”

  “I will,” Mr. Hardy said. After Con had left the house, he turned to his sons. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Con, but this whole thing makes my blood boil. I know you two didn’t do anything wrong, but this crazy security system makes it seem as though you did. I’m going to spend the day talking to people—see what kind of political angles I can pursue. I’m not sure how we let Big Brother sneak into our town, but I want to revoke his work visa.”

  Frank and Joe both smiled.

  “While I do that,” Mr. Hardy said, rising from his chair and heading for the door, “I want you to promise that you’ll stay out of the way of Councilwoman Hamilton.”

  “If she’ll stay out of our way,” Joe said.

  “Joe . . .” Mr. Hardy said, disapproval in his voice.

  “Yeah, okay. Sorry, Dad,” Joe said. “We’ll lay low.”

  “We promise,” Frank said.

  “Good,” Mr. Hardy said. “I’ll see what I can do.” He left the room.

  Frank sipped his orange juice. “So, what do you want to do while we lay low?” he asked.

  “We ought to check on Jake,” Joe said. “Go to the hospital, see how he’s doing.”

  “Good idea,” Frank said. “We shouldn’t run into the councilwoman while we’re doing that.”

  But when they arrived at the hospital, they discovered that Jake wasn’t there.

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked the young woman
behind the reception desk. The name on her tag read Julie Scott.

  “He’s not registered in any of our rooms,” Ms. Scott said.

  “Did something happen to him?” Frank asked. “Did he get transferred to another hospital?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that,” she said. “Hospital regulations.”

  “But we brought him in last night!” Joe protested.

  The young woman shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Joe looked ready to boil over with frustration. Fortunately, Frank spotted someone who might help them. “Come on, Joe,” he said. “We wouldn’t want Julie to get in trouble with her bosses. Sorry to bother you, Ms. Scott.”

  Frank pulled Joe past the reception area and into one of the corridors connecting the hospital to the clinic next door.

  “What’s up?” Joe asked.

  “I just saw the doctor we talked to last night walking down this corridor,” Frank said. “Maybe he’ll be more responsive than the receptionist was.”

  They caught up with Dr. Kendall a minute later. He had a clipboard and was busy making notes on it.

  “Long shift?” Frank said as the brothers skidded across the tile floor to where Dr. Kendall was standing.

  He smiled at the brothers. “Nope. Last night was my weekly night in emergency. Today I’m doing the clinic and making my rounds. I do get to sleep sometimes.”

  “What happened to Jake, Dr. Kendall?” Joe asked. “The receptionist wouldn’t tell us.”

  “The kid you brought in last night?” Dr. Kendall asked. “He checked himself out shortly after you left—against my advice, I must admit. College students are sometimes hard to reason with—or understand. No offense.”

  “None taken. Do you know where he went?” Frank asked.

  “Home, I hope,” the doctor said. “At least, that’s what I told him to do.”

  “Thanks, doc,” Joe said. “We’ll go check on him right now.” He and Frank headed for the door.

  “Remind him to rest when you see him,” the doctor called. “Otherwise, those headaches could come back. Concussions aren’t anything to trifle with. And he should pick up that prescription I called in for him if he hasn’t already.”

  “Will do,” Frank said. “Thanks again, doc.”

  He and Joe hit the parking lot and hopped in their van. Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of Jake’s apartment. They zipped up to the second floor and knocked on Jake’s door. When they got no answer, Joe tried the knob.

  “Locked,” he said.

  Frank frowned. “Hmm. Where to next?”

  “Well, it’s Saturday, so he shouldn’t be in class. We could check his work or maybe the library or some restaurants. Why don’t we call Jamal and Vanessa, see if they know.”

  “Good idea,” Joe said. The brothers went back to their van and got the cell phone. Frank called Jamal first and got Vanessa’s number from him. Unfortunately, neither one had seen Jake.

  “Vanessa said she had to stop at work today to pick something up,” Frank said. “She promised to see if Jake had checked in. She thought he was working today.”

  Joe, sitting behind the wheel, said, “Where does that leave us, then?”

  “I’m not sure,” Frank said. “I did find out one thing, though: Jamal dropped Vanessa off before the break-in occurred last night.”

  “You’re not thinking she’s a suspect,” Joe said.

  “I think it’s too early to rule anyone out,” Frank said. “We know that we didn’t trash that place. And I think it’s funny that Hamilton’s office got broken into just when the Securitech system was out in that part of town. The only people we know who might have had access to information about the system being down are Jake and Vanessa.”

  “And Jake checked himself out of the hospital before it happened.”

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “I don’t know what motive either one of them would have for trashing the office, though.”

  “I still think Cindy’s our main suspect,” Joe said. “We know that she—or one of her friends—was involved with that bottle throwing. She’s in Jake’s computer class, and she used to go out with him. That might give her access to Securitech somehow.”

  “It might,” Frank said. “For now, though, the only people we know with Securitech access are Jake and Vanessa.”

  Joe nodded. “It would be a real bummer if Vanessa had anything to do with this,” he said. “I think Jamal really likes her.”

  “Yeah,” Frank said. “We can’t rule out the Kings, either. They’ve got some computer skills—although probably not enough to tackle something like Securitech. I don’t know . . . .” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I still think you’re right. Cindy’s our best suspect, but—”

  Bang! Something hit the side of the van. Both brothers jumped. When they looked out the window, they saw Cindy Hamilton standing next to them with her fist clenched. She must have sneaked up and banged on the side of the van with her fist as the brothers talked.

  “Speak of the devil,” Joe said.

  “What are you two doing in there?” Cindy asked. “Plotting some new crime?”

  “Plotting to put you behind bars is more like it,” Joe said.

  She smiled. “You’re not up to it, blondie. You make any moves toward me and my mom’ll have you in jail so fast that it’ll make your head spin.”

  “I’m sure she thinks you’re a little angel,” Joe said. “But we know better, don’t we?”

  “I don’t know what you think you know,” Cindy said.

  “What are you doing here, Cindy?” Frank asked.

  “Hey, it’s a free country, isn’t it? I can walk where I want.”

  “If you’re coming to visit Jake,” Joe said, “he’s not home.”

  “Who said anything about Jake,” Cindy replied. “I’m just out for a walk.” She waggled her fingers at them. “Stay out of trouble, boys.” Then she walked away, heading in the direction of the BIT campus.

  “She’s some piece of work,” Joe said, watching her go.

  Frank nodded. “You know,” he said, “she could have come here to visit Jay Stone. Maybe she’s in deeper with the Kings than we thought.”

  “That would make sense,” Joe said. “I wonder what the Kings are up to, though.”

  “Maybe just causing chaos,” Frank said. “That’s enough for some people.”

  “Hey!” Joe said. “There’s Jay Stone now.”

  Sure enough, Stone was coming out of the apartment building. As he did so, though, he ducked to one side and pressed his back against the wall.

  “What’s he up to?” Joe asked.

  A moment later they saw. Out of the building walked Jake. He looked worn out and unaware. As he moved forward a couple of steps, Stone stuck out his foot and tripped him.

  10 Jake’s Secret

  Before the Hardys could yell a warning, Jake toppled to the ground.

  The Hardys bolted from their van and raced toward Jake. Joe balled his hands into fists.

  “Get away from him, Stone!” Joe shouted.

  Stone backed away, his hands in the air as if to say “no problem.” He chuckled. “No law against having a laugh at the expense of a nerd,” Stone said.

  “There’s a law against assault,” Frank replied.

  “Hey,” Stone said, “he should have looked where he was going.”

  “You might have a little ‘accident’ yourself,” Joe said menacingly.

  “Maybe later,” Stone said. “Right now I’ve got errands to run. You Hardy boys should start your own scout troop,” he said as he walked away.

  Frank helped Jake to his feet. “You all right, Jake?” he asked.

  Jake nodded and brushed off his pants. “I didn’t see him,” he said. “I must have fallen asleep. I thought I heard someone knock on my door, but by the time I got up, no one was there.”

  “That was us,” Frank said. “We came to see if you were all right.”

  “My head still hurts,” Jake said. “So I thoug
ht I’d go to the pharmacy to fill that prescription the doc gave me.”

  “You want to do that now?” Joe asked. “We could give you a lift.”

  “Maybe later,” he said. “Right now, I think I’d better lie down again.”

  “No problem,” Joe said. Jake turned to go back into the apartment, but as he did, his knees buckled. Frank and Joe lunged forward to support him under each arm.

  “Thanks, guys,” Jake said weakly.

  They helped him upstairs and into his apartment. Jake walked to the couch and sat down. He leaned his head back so it rested on the back of the sofa and sighed.

  “Is anything bothering you, Jake?” Frank asked. “You’ve seemed pretty strung out.”

  “Oh, man,” Jake said. “I think I’ve done something really bad. I’ve been caught in the middle, and I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Why don’t you tell us about it,” Frank said.

  Jake let his head slump forward. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I guess I really need to talk to someone. At least a bit. You guys promise you won’t tell anybody?”

  “Who would we tell?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “The school, my boss at Securitech? I don’t think the police would be interested, but . . .”

  “We promise,” Frank said.

  Jake leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I need this job at Securitech. I don’t want to lose it. The pay is good, and it’s giving me valuable experience. Plus, it’ll look good on my résumé.

  “But I want to stay in school, too. I want to get my degree in four years, not five or six. Maybe this class doesn’t matter as much to Vanessa—working at Securitech seems more important to her.”

  “Are you talking about Professor Firestein’s class?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah. It’s a good class, but very”—he paused, searching for the right word—“demanding. It’s not just the demands on my time—though that’s rough as well. I haven’t had a lot of time for sleep lately.”

  He sighed before continuing. “When I started working at Securitech, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement—a piece of paper saying that I wouldn’t reveal certain aspects of the work I do for them: computer codes, algorithms, and such. At the time I didn’t think that would be a problem.”