The Curse of the Ancient Emerald

by Franklin W. Dixon

  I shook my head. “I think that’s where the Phantom is going to strike. At eleven o’clock tonight.”

  • • •

  At nine o’clock, Joe and I were sitting in our car a few houses down from Trethaway’s place.

  This time we had a plan. We still weren’t sure if the Phantom was Trethaway or Kruger or someone else entirely. My money was on Trethaway, but Joe was still stuck on Kruger.

  We had split into two groups. Amber and Chet had staked out Kruger’s workplace and followed him home. They were watching his house, while Joe and I took Trethaway’s. All of us had video cameras. This time our aim was to get solid evidence of the theft.

  Joe checked the battery in his video camera and switched it to night-vision mode. “Want to place a bet?” he asked.

  “On?”

  “On whether it’s Trethaway or Kruger.”

  “Sure. Ten bucks?”

  “Come on. Put your money where your mouth is, bro. Twenty.”

  I held out my hand. “Deal.”

  About an hour later we saw Trethaway’s door open, and the man himself stepped outside. I leaned forward, and Joe focused the camera on him.

  He was wearing dark clothes—perfect for breaking and entering. He looked both ways down the street, then jogged to his car, slid behind the wheel, and drove off with a little spin of his tires.

  “He’s in a hurry,” I pointed out, checking the rearview mirror before setting off after him. “Looks like you might owe me twenty bucks.”

  I kept my distance as we tailed Trethaway through the city streets. There was enough late-night traffic that even if he had looked in his mirrors, he wouldn’t have noticed we were following him.

  Still filming, Joe picked up the two-way radio we were using to stay in touch with Chet and Amber.

  “Guys? Any movement on your side?”

  There was a hiss and crackle, and then Chet’s tinny voice echoed through the car. “Delta One, remember?”

  “Huh?” said Joe.

  “Use the proper code names. Delta One and Delta Two. Come on. You gotta do this properly.”

  Joe rolled his eyes at me. “Fine. Delta Two to Delta One. Come in, Delta One.”

  “Delta One here. No movement in target’s house. Everything dark.”

  I frowned. “Everything dark? Not even a single light?”

  “No, no lights on at all. Looks like nobody’s at home.”

  That was a bit worrisome. Why would Kruger be out at this time? Unless he was asleep already?

  I gestured for Joe to hand over the radio as I eased to a stop at a traffic light. Trethaway had made it through before the light turned red, but I could still see him up ahead.

  “Guys, do me a favor and go knock on his door. Make it loud. We need to know if he’s in there or not.”

  Amber’s voice came over the speaker. “Sure. Give us a couple of minutes.”

  I handed the radio back. The light had turned green, so I hit the gas and headed off to find our target.

  Only problem was, he had disappeared.

  I slowed down, searching the road ahead, checking the cars parked along the sidewalk. Joe was staring out the passenger window, trying to see if he had pulled off onto any side streets.

  “You think he saw us?” he asked.

  “Nah. We weren’t tailing him too closely.”

  “Yeah, but what if he’s paranoid?” Joe said. “He was in prison for a while.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Up ahead, a police car pulled out of a gas station and passed us, heading in the opposite direction. It disappeared into the darkness.

  A second later I heard the squeal of tires and Trethaway’s car skidded into view, sliding onto the main street from a side alley. His car sped off into the distance, then skidded around yet another corner, vanishing from sight.

  “After him!” shouted Joe.

  I stomped on the gas and gunned the engine. I could see his taillights up ahead, swerving from side to side as he fought to keep control of his car.

  “You think he spotted us?” I shouted.

  “I think the cops spooked him,” said Joe. “Looks like I might owe you that twenty bucks after all.”

  Trethaway took us on a chase away from the city’s center, moving through smaller suburban streets. Our cars skidded around corners, spinning along the asphalt as we played cat and mouse through the narrow streets.

  I managed to keep him in sight, but I didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t ram him off the road. And this was getting dangerous.

  Finally Trethaway screeched around a corner and mounted the sidewalk, ramping his car over the curb and into somebody’s garden. He kept going, pulling up the grass as he shot out the other side and back onto the street. Sparks flew as his undercarriage scraped the road, but he didn’t slow down. In fact, he put on another burst of speed, zigzagging across the road as he tried to lose us.

  I sighed and slowed down, pulling over to the side of the street.

  “What are you doing?” shouted Joe. “He’s getting away!”

  “It’s too dangerous,” I said. “What if someone had been out walking their dog? Trethaway could have hit them!”

  Joe punched the dashboard in frustration. I held up a calming hand.

  “Relax. We lost him, but if he is the Phantom, then we know where he’s going to be in an hour, remember?”

  Joe’s frown turned into a grin. “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.”

  I headed back toward the center of Bayport. We hadn’t quite reached the town hall when our radio crackled to life.

  “Delta Two, this is Delta One. The worm has flown the coop. Repeat, the worm has flown the coop.”

  Joe lifted the radio. “What does that even mean?”

  Amber’s voice came from the speaker. “It means he was not at his house. Repeat, he’s not there. We looked in all the windows. The house is deserted.”

  Joe and I glanced at each other in amazement.

  “There’s more,” said Amber. “We’re outside the town hall. I think we just saw movement inside.”

  Chet’s excited voice came from the speaker. “Looks like he’s early!”

  RADIO SILENCE

  10

  JOE

  WE PARKED TWO BLOCKS AWAY from the town hall. Best not to have our car on any surveillance cameras, just in case anything went wrong.

  I pulled out a face mask and handed it to Frank. He held it up and examined it.

  “Freddy Krueger?” he asked.

  “I thought it suited you.”

  “What did you pick for yourself?” he asked.

  I held up a clown mask. But no ordinary clown mask; this one had demonic eyes and sharp yellow teeth.

  “I think I’ll stick with Freddy.”

  Frank started to pull on the mask as I looked at him in amazement.

  “What?” he said.

  “Seriously? We’re going to walk two whole blocks with these masks on? It’s not Halloween. It will look suspicious.”

  Frank flushed slightly and stuffed the mask in his pocket. “Good point. Let’s go!”

  The streets were damp from an early evening shower. The streetlights reflected in the puddles as we headed toward the gabled roof of the town hall, easily visible over the surrounding buildings.

  My two-way radio crackled to life.

  “Delta Two, come in.”

  I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. “Delta Two. Where are you?”

  “Rear entrance. The town hall door’s been cracked open.”

  We jogged along the street that led to the town hall. The building was fronted by a large square of grass that was used for pet shows and art fairs.

  But directly opposite the town hall, on the other side of the street, was Bayport police headquarters. I could see cops from here, walking into the station and heading out into squad cars to start their evening patrols.

  I felt my stomach do a little somersault. “Frank, this is crazy. If we get caught, there’s no wa
y to prove we’re not trying to steal anything.”

  “I know,” Frank said grimly. “But we can’t let this creep get away with another theft. If we don’t stop him, who will?”

  I couldn’t argue there. Dad had taught us to do the right thing no matter what—and this definitely qualified.

  I glanced up at the town hall as we skirted around the side of the redbrick building. Five floors, all windows dark. We found Amber and Chet waiting in the back.

  We were all dressed in black, but whereas Chet, Frank, and I looked like troublemakers, Amber looked like she’d stepped off a movie set. She wore a charcoal-gray hoodie over her black shirt, but she somehow managed to make it seem cool.

  “We parked a couple of blocks away,” Frank told them as I pulled the last two masks from my pockets.

  “Dracula or Frankenstein?” I asked. “Sorry, it’s all the store had left.”

  “Dracula! Cool!” whispered Amber, snatching the Dracula mask even as Chet was starting to make a grab for it. “Sorry, Chet,” she said. “You snooze, you lose. Hey, do we get to keep the masks?”

  “Uh . . . sure. All yours.”

  “Awesome!” Amber pulled on her mask. “I vant to suck your blood!” she whispered, hands raised into claws as she turned toward Chet.

  “Hey, cut that out,” said Chet, skipping out of reach. He put on the Frankenstein mask while Frank and I did the same with ours.

  “Okay,” said Frank. “Everyone ready? Joe, you have the camera?”

  I patted my pocket.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  I took out the camera and flicked open the LCD panel. The screen lit up with a green phosphorescence as the night vision picked out the others heading into the town hall. I focused the camera down at the door’s lock as I passed. The wood around the edge was splintered. It had clearly been forced open—which meant the Phantom must have disbanded the alarm system already. I felt a twinge of annoyance. He had said eleven o’clock. How were we supposed to catch him if he didn’t play by his own rules?

  Which, I supposed, was the whole point. It wasn’t as if he wanted to get caught, no matter how much of a game he thought this was.

  The back door opened into a kitchen with two huge ovens and a few industrial fridges. The kitchen led into a dark hall with offices on either side. I could see light up ahead, filtering in through the front windows of the building.

  We crept forward, stopping before we arrived at the entrance hall. The building actually used to be an old house, some kind of mansion built by the founder of Bayport in the eighteenth century, so it was big and creaky.

  We waited and listened. I used the camera to get a good look into the entrance hall, using it like I would night-vision goggles. I took in wooden floorboards, an information wall showcasing the sights of Bayport, tables with flyers on them, a little kiosk where the receptionist worked, and a flight of stairs leading up to the next floor.

  After a minute or so, Frank led the way into the entrance hall. We moved slowly to the stairs.

  “Walk close to the wall,” Frank hissed. “Less chance of the stairs creaking there.”

  My brother the professional burglar. I’d have to ask him how he knew that.

  I pointed the camera at the second floor, just to make sure the Phantom wasn’t standing in the dark, watching us. But nobody was there. We started climbing.

  “Hey,” whispered Amber. “What floor is this Civil War display on?”

  Frank paused and looked at me. I shrugged. Amber shook her head and headed back down the stairs. I watched over the banister as she used a small flashlight to scan the notice board and the flyers. Then she hurried back to join us.

  “Top floor,” she said.

  We crept up the stairs, pausing at every floor to listen. I have to admit, it was more than a little creepy. I know the Phantom was supposed to be good, but I couldn’t hear a single sound that seemed out of place.

  When we arrived at the top floor, I saw that the passage led both left and right. I counted the doors. Ten. The exhibit could be behind any one of them.

  Frank put his ear against the wood of the first door. He listened for a moment, then shook his head and moved to the next one. I was going to ask why he didn’t just open the door to check, but then I realized that in this silence, the noise of the door latch would sound like an explosion.

  We checked each door, but there wasn’t a sound behind any of them. Frank leaned in close to whisper. “We’re going to have to open the doors to check out each room. Chet, you and Amber wait at the bottom of the stairs in case he’s hiding somewhere else.”

  “Uh, what are you going to do?” asked Chet.

  “Try and tackle him before he gets out of the room.”

  “Good luck,” whispered Amber.

  They tiptoed down the stairs, and Frank and I moved along the passage.

  “The study would most likely be at the end of the corridor,” I noted softly. “A study usually has a view of some kind.”

  “Good point,” said Frank.

  We tiptoed across the carpeted hall to the last door. We were only halfway there when my radio crackled to life.

  “In position,” said Chet. “Ready to grab any Civil War treasures that come our way.”

  Frank winced and lifted the radio to his lips. “Radio silence, please,” he whispered.

  When we arrived at the door, Frank put a hand on the handle and looked at me. I nodded, and he started to open it.

  But he didn’t get the chance.

  “This is the police,” blared a loud voice. “Identify yourselves!”

  ROOFTOP RACE

  11

  FRANK

  I WHIRLED AROUND IN SHOCK. Joe stared at me with wide eyes.

  “I repeat, whoever is in the town hall, identify yourselves.”

  Our eyes dragged down to our radios, where the voice was coming from. And it was the unmistakable voice of Chief Olaf.

  “And if you’re going to rob the town hall, in the future, use a secure connection. Your chitchat is coming through every police radio in the station.”

  I quickly put my radio to my mouth. “Delta One. Abort. Repeat: Abort.”

  From the other side of the door came a terrific crash and the sound of shattering glass.

  I pushed the door open and saw a dark figure scrambling out the window. He turned on the windowsill and reached up, then pulled himself onto the roof. I ran forward to try and grab his legs, but he yanked them from my grip.

  My eyes were drawn to movement across the street. Police officers were pouring from the station, running toward the town hall, flashlights bobbing and weaving, cutting through the night. They were already more than halfway across the front lawn. There was no way Joe and I were getting out the traditional way.

  Besides, we had a robber to catch.

  I turned around and reached up to the roof. My fingers caught hold of the gutter, which I yanked on to test its strength. It held. I pulled myself up onto the roof and moved aside so Joe could join me. I kept low, hoping the police wouldn’t see my silhouette from below. The sky was still cloudy, so we were in luck.

  I scanned the rooftop and saw the Phantom to our right. He was taking his time. Joe and I set off after him, and I immediately understood his caution. The roof’s shingles were slippery from the earlier rain. One wrong move and we would go sliding down five stories to the hard ground below.

  We picked our way across as fast as we could. I glanced over my shoulder to check on the police. I turned away for only a second, but as soon as I did, I felt something slip underfoot, as if I were sliding on ice. I looked down in horror and saw that an entire shingle had come off, sliding down the angled roof with my foot still on it.

  I lost my balance and fell on my back, hitting the shingles with a terrific crash. I felt some of them shatter beneath my elbow. I started to slide amid an avalanche of red shingles, heading straight for the edge. My arms flailed behind me, frantically reaching for anything to grab hold of. I tr
ied to twist around, but the shingles shifted beneath me so much that I was now heading for the edge headfirst. I opened my mouth to shout for help—

  And lurched to a stop. My eyes swiveled up to see Joe lying stretched out full length, his feet hooked over the peak of the roof and one hand gripping my ankle.

  The shingles flew past me. I heard them crash to the ground, shattering the quiet with loud cracks. I struggled to look over my shoulder. The police had stopped running and had turned their attention to the roof.

  I reached up and grabbed Joe’s arm. He had shifted to the side slightly, where the rooftop was still in one piece. He let go of my ankle, and I crawled up toward him.

  A shout from below informed me that we’d been spotted. Nothing to be done about that now. Joe moved back up the roof and stood up. I followed his example, my legs a bit shaky, and we set off again.

  The Phantom was at the opposite edge of the roof by now, and as we watched, he dropped from sight. I wondered if he had another bungee cord or if there was some other way down. I really hoped that whatever it was, we could use it too.

  Just then I heard a shout behind us. I glanced back and saw Chief Olaf peering over the edge of the roof. He looked around, then ducked back inside the building.

  I smiled. There was no way he would come up here after us. He’d send some of the younger officers.

  My face was dripping with sweat, my breathing amplified by the mask. The sweat was getting into my eyes, stinging them, and I couldn’t even wipe it away. I couldn’t risk lifting the mask in case we were being watched.

  We reached the end of the roof, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Just below us, attached to an emergency door on the fifth floor, was a fire escape.

  But as we watched, the same door started to open.

  Joe and I did the exact same thing. Without a moment’s hesitation we leaped off the roof, dropping onto the fire escape with a loud clang. We rammed ourselves up against the door, slamming it shut again. Someone on the other side pushed against it, but the two of us had more weight. The only problem was, we couldn’t just stand there all night. The police would be coming around the side of the building any moment now.