With an exasperated expression, Whalen looked down at the mess he had made. Then he glanced up at the banks of television screens on his wall, and his expression began to change. His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide. The lettuce and mayonnaise dribbled slowly from his tie to the top of his desk.
“What do you think he’s looking at?” Steve asked.
“Himself,” Joe replied. “On TV.”
The brown-haired engineer smiled. “Maybe we shouldn’t cut this off the air after all.”
“Yeah,” said the older engineer. “Sure beats our regular programming. Old Ted’s never looked better.”
Ted Whalen, staring straight at the TV screen, began to flush with anger.
Then he said, in a low and menacing tone, “I’m going to kill those kids!”
“You don’t suppose he means us, do you?” Debbie asked.
“I think we’d better get moving,” Frank said to Joe.
“Right,” Joe said. “It looks like things are about to get pretty nasty around here.”
Frank and Joe stepped out of the engineering room and into the hallway as quickly as they could.
“Now, where were we?” Joe asked.
“We were talking about Clarence and whether that was really his voice over the intercom,” Frank said.
“It might be time to ask a few people where they were when that message was broadcast,” Joe said.
“Here comes one of them now.” Frank pointed down the hallway. Matt Freeman was striding toward them.
“Where are you headed, Matt?” Joe asked. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”
“I’ve got a special edition of ‘The Four O’Clock Scholar’ to host this evening,” Matt replied. “And, as I recall, your brother Frank is a contestant on it.”
“Oh, right!” Frank exclaimed. “The championship tournament is tonight, and I’m on the team. I was planning on doing a little cramming before the show. I haven’t had a chance to study since Sunday.”
“Calm down,” Joe said. “You were great on Sunday, and you’ll probably blow them all away tonight.”
“If you two don’t mind,” Matt said, “I’ve got to get moving. Good luck to you.” He continued down the hallway toward the studio.
“Listen,” Frank said. “I’ve got to start getting ready for the show, too. You go talk to Marcy Simons and tell her to have the basement searched for Clarence.”
“You still think he’s down there?” Joe asked.
“I’m not sure,” Frank said. “But we have to cover all the bases.”
“Okay,” Joe said. “Anything else?”
“Just keep trying to find Clarence,” Frank said. “I’ll compare notes with you as soon as the show is over.”
Frank turned and headed for the greenroom, leaving Joe alone in the hallway. After watching his brother go, Joe walked to Marcy Simons’s office.
Marcy was startled when Joe told her about hearing Clarence in the basement, and she agreed to send a pair of guards down to search. She then excused herself, saying she also had to get ready for “The Four O’Clock Scholar.”
Joe wandered back out into the hallway. Well, it’s up to me now, he thought. I’ve got to figure this one out on my own.
Joe found an empty office and settled down into a comfortable-looking chair. It felt good to sit down after a day of running around looking for Clarence.
He remembered what Frank had started to say earlier about Clarence’s voice. It was so distinctive that—what? What had Frank been about to say?
That someone could easily have imitated Clarence’s voice?
Sure, thought Joe. That made sense. What if the voice they had heard over the loudspeaker and in the basement was someone doing a Clarence Kellerman impression?
So who did a Clarence Kellerman impression?
“Hello, everybody,” Joe said out loud, trying to make his voice sound as much like the quiz show host’s as possible. “It’s your old buddy Clarence!”
Nah, he thought, with a shudder. That was a lousy Clarence Kellerman impression.
But maybe somebody who made his living talking on television could do a better one. Maybe somebody like—
Joe stood up abruptly, almost knocking over the chair as he did. He realized he knew who did a great Clarence Kellerman impression. Joe had heard Fred Dunlap do it just the previous morning, on the set of the Home-Shopping Extravaganza.
And Fred had been in the basement the second time they had heard Clarence’s voice. He could have made it sound as though Clarence were hidden away somewhere in the stacks of boxes.
Joe raced back out into the hallway—and froze. Where were Fred and Al anyway? He always saw them in the hallway or on the stairs or in the studio, but he had no idea where their office was.
Joe ducked his head into an office and asked the man who sat at the desk where he could find the Dunlaps.
“I just saw them outside,” the man said. “On the loading dock down at the end of this hall. They’re unloading a bunch of merchandise that just came in.”
Why would the Dunlaps be outside unloading their own merchandise? Joe wondered as he headed for the dock. Shouldn’t they have other people do that job for them?
He and Frank had seen Fred carrying boxes up from the basement. Why did the Dunlaps handle the merchandise entirely by themselves?
Maybe, thought Joe, they don’t want anybody else to see it. Maybe there’s something funny about the boxes and boxes of merchandise that the Dunlaps kept in the basement.
And maybe, just maybe, Clarence had gotten too close a look at the merchandise. . . .
Joe threw open the door to the loading dock. There was a large truck backed up to the dock, but nobody was in sight around it. Joe walked up to the open, rear door of the truck and looked inside. There were piles of boxes in the truck, similar to the boxes he and Frank had seen stacked in the basement.
Joe stepped inside the truck and took a closer look. A couple of boxes were marked HSE, but most were marked with the names of Bayport area stores. Were these the places where Fred and Al bought their merchandise? Joe wondered. Hadn’t Fred said on the show that they bought their merchandise wholesale, to keep the prices down?
Joe cautiously opened the lid on one box. Inside were all types of gold chains, like the ones that Fred had been hawking on the show the previous morning. The box next to it contained assorted jewelry, which had been tossed carelessly into the box.
This stuff didn’t look as if it had been bought wholesale, Joe thought. This looked like—
“Can I help you?” said a voice. Joe spun around to see Fred and Al Dunlap staring into the truck.
“Where’d you get this stuff?” Joe asked the brothers. “Where does it all come from?”
“What business is it of yours?” Fred asked. “I thought you kids were looking for Clarence Kellerman, not a good buy on gold chains.”
“This stuff is stolen, isn’t it?” Joe snapped. “That’s why you never let anybody get near your merchandise or unlock your truck for you. Clarence found out that this stuff-was stolen and that’s why he’s missing now, right?”
Fred and Al exchanged glances. “This kid is pretty smart,” Al said with a scowl. “And his brother, too. Real sharp detectives.”
“You guys are running a fencing operation right out of this station, aren’t you?” Joe went on. “You sell the stuff to the viewers of your show, who never suspect they’re buying stolen merchandise. You must get this stuff from every petty crook in town.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Al said. “We’re the hottest fences in Bayport. And the thieves don’t even have to come to us. We come to them, with this handy truck.”
“And you’ve been trying to get rid of me and my brother all along, not to mention Steve and Debbie,” Joe continued. “You dropped that camera on us, didn’t you? And which one of you tried to knock me off the catwalk Sunday evening?”
Fred gestured to Joe and smiled. “This kid really is smart, Al.”
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“You even locked all four of us in the basement and tried to asphyxiate us with smoke before we discovered anything important,” Joe said.
“Believe me,” Fred said, “it wasn’t much fun knocking those two other kids over the head with a crowbar after we’d turned out the lights on them in the basement. Fortunately, they never shut up for even a second, so it was easy to find them in the dark.”
“You know,” Al added, “this kid is so smart, I think I’ll give him a little present.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a gun.
“I guess you’ve solved the mystery after all, kid,” Al said, pointing the gun at Joe. “Too bad. ‘Cause it looks like your detective career is over.”
14 Clarence Returns
* * *
Joe looked around desperately. No one else was in sight. Frank, Marcy, and Matt—and even Steve and Debbie—were all getting ready for “The Four O’Clock Scholar.” That left Joe alone on the loading dock with a pair of armed criminals.
For the first time in days, Joe wouldn’t have minded seeing Steve and Debbie show up.
“Well, kid,” Al Dunlap said, waving the gun, “are you coming quietly? Or do we have to carry you?”
“I’m coming,” Joe said, stepping out of the back of the truck. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Just follow me,” Fred said. “Al will be right behind you, so don’t try anything funny.”
Al pushed the gun into his jacket pocket. “It’s still aimed at you,” he said. “I don’t mind blowing a hole in this jacket if I have to.”
“You’ve probably got a box full of brand-new jackets in the basement,” Joe said.
“How’d you guess?” Fred said with a laugh. “They were real cheap, too.”
There was a guard stationed inside the door. Joe tried to alert the man to his problem through his facial expression, but the guard was too absorbed in a paperback novel to notice. Al Dunlap, noticing what Joe was up to, poked the gun into the small of Joe’s back.
Fred walked quickly past Studio A and opened the door to the staircase leading to the second level. Joe followed him up the stairs. A moment later they came to the door marked Studio A Catwalks. Fred opened it up and beckoned for Joe to follow him inside.
“So this is where you put Clarence,” Joe said. “Frank and I must have come close to finding him on Sunday, when we came up here.”
“Yeah,” Al said. “Fortunately, Fred was up here at the time and managed to distract you by knocking you over the railing before you could get too close.”
“And that’s why you lured us to the basement,” Joe said. “It was as far away from Clarence as we could get.”
“My brother does a pretty good impression of Clarence,” Al said in a satisfied tone. “The one he did for you in the basement really had you going.”
“Keep it down,” Fred ordered. “We don’t want anybody in the studio to hear you.”
Joe followed Fred into the dimly lit catwalk area. With Al prodding him from behind with the gun, he made his way across to the opposite wall, where a dark-colored canvas had been laid across an object on the floor.
Fred removed the canvas with a flourish. Underneath was a tall, thin man. He had thick, wavy brown hair and was dressed in a brown, double-breasted suit. He was bound head-to-toe with ropes and gagged with a white handkerchief.
“Clarence,” Joe whispered.
Clarence said something under his gag and made an effort to sit up.
“Be quiet, Clarence,” Al whispered, “or we might forget to bring you breakfast tomorrow morning. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
Clarence looked up with wide eyes but said nothing.
“Now it’s your turn, Joe,” Fred said, taking hold of Joe’s hands. “Put your hands behind your back, so that I can tie them up.”
With Al still holding the gun on him, Joe stood quietly while Fred tied his wrists behind him with a length of rope. Then he sat down next to Clarence as Fred tied his legs and ankles and gagged his mouth.
Joe sat still as the ropes were tightened against his wrists, then watched as Fred stood up and surveyed his work. Al slipped the gun back into his pocket and began to walk away.
“We’ll be back soon,” Fred said. “We’ve finally decided where we’re going to dump you guys. I hope you’re ready for a long trip.”
Joe watched as the Dunlaps walked back across the catwalks and through the door to the hallway. He could see the lights from the studio below and hear the sound of a crew putting up the set for “The Four O’Clock Scholar.”
He turned and looked at Clarence. Clarence turned and looked at him.
Great detective work, thought Joe. I’ve finally found Clarence. Now who’s going to find me?
• • •
Several hundred feet away, totally unaware of his brother’s predicament, Frank Hardy was sitting on the sofa in the WBPT greenroom, preparing for the evening’s contest by thumbing through the book his brother had left behind on Sunday.
“It won’t do you any good, Hardy,” Steve said. He was sprawled out in an easy chair nearby. “I’m getting my revenge tonight. I wasn’t in my best form on Sunday, but this time I’m going to blow you away.”
“Forget it, Steve,” Debbie said, standing next to the sofa fastening a barrette in her hair. “Tonight I’m going to show the world how brilliant I really am—and I’m going to blow both of you away.”
“That’ll be the day,” Steve retorted.
Frank sighed and put the book down. “I’m kind of distracted by the Clarence Kellerman case,” he said. “I feel bad about leaving Joe to solve it by himself—at least until the show is over.”
“It’s time to get onstage,” said Marcy Simons, stepping into the greenroom with her ever-present clipboard tucked under her arm. She led the two teams into Studio A and had a technician remind them how to use the electronic equipment at their seats. Looking up at the studio audience as he sat down, Frank spotted Callie, Iola, and Chet but saw no sign of Joe. Where could his brother be? he wondered. Could he have found an important clue leading to Clarence?
The technicians worked efficiently around the stage, and the camera operators set up the opening shot. Somebody did a brief countdown, and then the show was on the air. Matt Freeman began introducing himself to the audience.
Frank wasn’t thinking about the show, however. He was thinking about the case. Where was Clarence Kellerman? If he wasn’t in the basement, where was he? And who had fooled them into thinking he was in the basement in the first place?
Frank reminded himself that they had heard Clarence’s voice in the basement. So either Clarence was there and they had been unable to find him or someone was imitating Clarence’s voice.
Imitating Clarence’s voice? Something clicked when Frank thought about this. Who knew how to imitate Clarence’s voice?
Suddenly Frank had a clear picture in his head of Fred Dunlap saying, “It’s your old buddy, Clarence!” And Joe and I found Fred Dunlap in the basement right after we heard Clarence’s voice, Frank thought. I’ve got to find Joe and tell him.
Frank stood up. He was about to rush out of the studio when, abruptly, he was aware that there was a camera on him and that Matt Freeman was scowling at him. Steve Burke grabbed the corner of Frank’s jacket and pulled him back into his seat.
Great! Frank thought. I’m trapped on this quiz show while Clarence’s kidnappers are running around the station with nobody to stop them. Except my brother. I wonder where Joe is right now?
• • •
Joe was barely more than thirty feet from where Frank was sitting in Studio A—thirty feet straight up. He had twisted himself around so that he could look over the edge of the catwalk and down into the studio below. Frank, Steve, and Debbie were sitting almost directly beneath him, giving him a perfect view of the top of their heads. He would have yelled to them for help, but the gag was stuffed tightly in his mouth.
Clarence had managed to turn himself so that his
hands were next to Joe’s hands. He reached out his fingers and tried to untie the rope around Joe’s wrist.
Then Joe heard a jingling sound from only a few inches away. He looked down to see that some coins had fallen out of his pocket onto the catwalk. He squirmed around until the coins were directly under his nose.
Using the tip of his nose, he pushed a coin until it was on the very edge of the catwalk. Looking down on Frank, Steve, and Debbie far below, Joe pushed the coin over the edge.
It fell straight into Debbie’s lap.
Joe saw Debbie look down at the unexpected gift, then look up at the ceiling above her. Joe moved his head around frantically, trying to catch her attention, but it was either too dark in the catwalks for her to see him, or she was blinded by the glare of the overhead spotlights.
Debbie turned to Steve and then Frank, trying to indicate to them that a coin had fallen into her lap. But neither of them paid any attention to her.
Joe saw that the quiz show had already begun. Although he couldn’t quite make out the questions being asked, he could see Frank reaching out to press his buzzer. Turning away from the action below, Joe went back to the task of getting himself and Clarence untied and away from the catwalks before Al and Fred came back.
He began working at Clarence’s ropes this time. After a while, he could feel the ropes around Clarence’s wrists begin to give. As quickly as possible Joe worked at the delicate operation until the knots came loose. Finally the ropes fell away.
Clarence rubbed his wrists for a second. Then he pulled the gag from his mouth.
“Whoooeee!” he announced. “Boy, is it good to be able to talk again!”
Joe made as much noise as he could under his gag to try to tell Clarence to take the cloth off.
“Oh, yeah,” Clarence said. “Sorry, buddy. I sure didn’t mean to leave you tied up any longer than I had to. Let me get that gag out of your mouth.”
Clarence worked at the knot on Joe’s gag until it came loose. Joe shook the cloth off his mouth and ran his tongue around his lips to wet them.
“Thanks, Clarence,” Joe said with relief. “You don’t know how long my brother and I have been looking for you.”
The Prime-Time Crime Page 9
