“Whoa!” Phil exclaimed, after examining the device. “This is a major league tracking device. I mean, this is not your stereo store model.”
“I know that,” Frank said. “But I’ve never seen one quite like it. Where would you buy it?”
“No, no,” Phil said enthusiastically as he led Frank down into his basement workshop. “You don’t get it. This baby is two generations up from anything on the open market.” Frank stared at Phil. “Frank, this is covert stuff, big bucks, spy guys!” Phil returned to examining the device under his magnifying glass. “Whoa,” he repeated.
“What’s the range of something like that?” Frank asked.
“With or without a Global Surveillance Satellite?”
Frank gave a soft whistle. “With.”
“They could find us in Alaska or the Bahamas.” Phil smiled. “And you know which one I’d rather be in.”
“I don’t think these thieves have access to a GSS,” Frank said. “At least … I hope not.”
Phil continued to examine the device like a child with a new toy. “Who are these guys?” he asked.
“That’s what we have to figure out,” Frank replied. “Can you find out anything about this unit? Where it came from? Who bought it? Where it’s been? Anything?”
Now it was Phil’s turn to throw up his hands. “Hold on there, Frank,” he said. “I’m a whiz, true. But if these guys are as good as their technology, they’ll have all kinds of shields. Phony names, cards, and stuff. It would be like tracking electronic ghosts.”
Frank shrugged. “You’re right, Phil,” he said. “These guys are really good. There’s no way that you could possibly get anything on them.” He reached for the tracking device. “We’d need some seriously well-trained pro who could—”
“Wait a minute,” Phil said, blocking Frank from touching the device. “I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. I just said it would be hard.”
Frank smiled. “Then go for it. Any information will help.”
“Sure thing,” Phil told him. “After all, my rep is on the line.”
The two boys talked a little more as Phil walked Frank to the van.
“I’ve gotta tell you one thing,” Phil said as Frank climbed in behind the wheel. “I hope these guys are just thieves and not anything else.”
“Why?” Frank asked.
“Because with the kind of technology they have, they could listen in on anyone, track them anywhere, or destroy anything, and vanish without a trace.”
9
Invasion
Joe Hardy pulled his brother into his room the moment Frank came home. He quickly told Frank about the attack at the hotel and how their father had reacted to the whole thing.
“Whoa!” Frank flopped down on Joe’s bed and let out a low whistle. “What did Mr. Silvers say when you told him about this?”
“He was really quiet at first,” Joe replied. “Especially when I mentioned Dad was there. Then he took off for the hotel. Said he’d check in with us later.”
“And you think the guy you tackled could have something to do with Dad’s case?” Frank asked.
“I don’t know,” Joe replied. “Dad’s working on some kind of security job, and somehow it involves the hotel. Clayton Silvers is staying at the same hotel, and someone tried to search his room.” Joe scratched his head. “I don’t see how they connect, but it is possible.”
Frank gazed out the window of Joe’s room. The night sky was without stars and filled with thick, dark clouds. “Dad’s client, Harlan Dean, acts like police or a federal agent,” he said. “He could be looking for a fugitive, bodyguarding someone important, or transporting something valuable.”
“Or dangerous,” Joe added. He sat silently on his bed for a few seconds, then reached into his shirt pocket. “Then there’s this thing,” he said, pulling out the plastic card.
Frank took the card. “Where’d you get this?”
“The floor near the window,” Joe explained. “At first I thought it was a credit card, but it’s blank and has that one-by-two-inch strip of plastic hanging from it.”
Frank noticed there were five individual wires running through the strip of plastic. They were evenly spaced, and like the strip they were torn at one end. “I think this is an electronic pass key,” Frank said. “But I don’t know what it was attached to.”
“A passkey!” Joe’s face lit up. “That could mean the assistant manager, Alfred Tally, could be involved. He would have access to passkeys for the hotel.”
Frank’s brow wrinkled as he recalled the first time he and Joe had met Alfred Tally. The man had been standoffish, Frank reminded himself, until he learned Joe and I were the sons of Fenton Hardy. “He did seem really interested in Mr. Silvers,” Frank said to Joe. “In fact, he implied he’d been keeping tabs on the man for Dad.”
“Maybe Dad and Harlan Dean are after Mr. Silvers,” Joe offered. “After all, the authorities believe he’s guilty. They might be trying to get more evidence on him.”
“It’s possible,” Frank replied. “But between the attacks on Clayton, the tracking devices, and that car sabotage—I’m more worried about Aunt Gertrude. She’s right in the middle.”
“Maybe we should talk her into backing out of this,” Joe suggested.
Frank smirked at his brother. “If you think we can, you need help.”
“At least we have to try,” Joe said. He stood up and headed for the bedroom door. “You coming?”
Frank shrugged. “Sure.”
The boys found their aunt in the den, sitting at a dark oak wood desk. She was talking on the phone and had a large map of Bayport spread out in front of her. From the doorway, the boys could see that she had circled several areas on the map with a red marker. Most of them had been crossed out ith an X. Only one had a check next to it, and Aunt Gertrude, pen in hand, was poised over the last one.
“Are you sure, Millis?” she said, staring down at the map. “I need facts, not gossip.” She paused for a moment. “All right then. Thank you. Yes, yes. I’ll be there for the clothing drive next week. I’ll be finished with my—project by then.”
The boys waited patiently while their aunt exchanged a few more pleasantries, said goodbye, and hung up.
“You sound more sure of things than we do,” Joe told her. “I didn’t turn up anything on the thugs and their van.”
“And I haven’t learned much about that tracking device,” Frank added. “Phil Cohen is working on it, though. He might call later, but we’re not moving very fast.”
“You two are so impatient,” their aunt replied. She placed a check next to the last circled area on her map. “That’s why I worry about you. You expect things to happen instantly.”
“Well, that’s the way a lot of our cases go,” Joe said.
“Maybe so,” Aunt Gertrude replied. “But not all the time. That is not how life works. Some things require patience, which I have. And because of that I’ve learned a few things in the past hour. Look at this.”
Aunt Gertrude motioned for the boys to join her. They moved behind her so they could look over her shoulders. “Through the Rotary club and a friend who sells real estate, I found out that ten houses and motor homes have been rented in the past three weeks. Eight of them proved to be to families or college students. But the occupants of the last two rentals have been acting very odd. One is a writer, and the other works for that new TV cable company, Stellar Dish. In fact, I think he’s the one who dropped by here the other day to check our service plan.”
“How long was he here?” Frank asked.
“About twenty minutes, I’d say.”
“Great!” Joe said enthusiastically. “We’ll go check them out.”
Aunt Gertrude whirled around to face him. “You will not!” she ordered. “Clayton and I will do that.”
“But this could be dangerous,” Frank pleaded. “We’re better at—”
“You have no idea what experience is,” Aunt Gertrude insisted. She took a deep breath
, let it out, and then slowly removed her reading glasses. “I don’t usually say this,” she told the boys, “but I am very proud of you. You’re compassionate and caring like your mother. You are clever and intelligent like your father.” Gertrude Hardy glanced quickly at a framed photograph on the wall. It was an eight-by-ten picture of the last Hardy family reunion. Frank and Joe and their parents were in the photo, and so was Aunt Gertrude.
“Aunt Gertrude, we—”
Their aunt held up a hand for silence. “Back when we were teenagers, Clayton Silvers defended me.” Frank and Joe exchanged glances.
“We worked together on a number of protest issues,” Aunt Gertrude went on. “We fought for the environment, better education, and clean, affordable housing for the poor—we were friends, but there were differences, too. Places we did not go together. Friends and experiences we did not share.”
“Because he was black and you were white?” Joe asked.
“We still are.” Aunt Gertrude grinned. “But, yes, that was part of the problem. One day some people cornered me. They didn’t like what Clayton and I were doing. They said we were spending too much time together. I felt certain that they were about to harm me, and I was as afraid as I had ever been.”
“What happened?” Frank asked, sitting down on the edge of the desk and leaning in closer.
“Suddenly Clayton was there,” Aunt Gertrude replied. “He stood with me. He didn’t have to, but he did. Clayton told them whatever happened to me had to happen to him, and some of them would live to regret it. They closed in a step, and I felt certain a fight would break out. Then your father stepped in, too, and so did a few other people. The fight never happened. Thank goodness.”
“Whew.” Joe sighed. “That could have been ugly. But I bet you could have held your own.”
“So that’s why you’re trying to clear Clayton Silvers,” Frank said.
“No,” Aunt Gertrude said with annoyance. “He was, is, and always will be my friend. That’s why.” Gertrude Hardy quickly rose from her chair.
“You boys are always ready to rush into danger,” Aunt Gertrude said. “I told you that story so you would understand that I know something about danger and threats. I know what it is to lose someone you care about. I don’t want to go through that again.”
Frank and Joe were surprised by their aunt’s statement. Her tale about Clayton did reveal another side of their friendship. But her remark about losing someone she cared about caught them off guard. What was she talking about? Whom had she lost?
Before Frank and Joe could ask the question, the doorbell rang.
Frank stayed with their aunt while Joe went to the front of the house and cautiously looked through the peephole. Instantly he threw open the door, and a wide-eyed Phil Cohen rushed into the house, carrying a backpack.
“Hey, Phil—”
Before Joe could finish speaking, Phil had clamped a damp hand over his mouth. Phil gestured for silence, just as Frank joined them. Catching their friend’s signal, he watched as Phil pulled out a small electronic gadget from his backpack. It was the size of a hand-held computer game, but there were no colorful graphics or familiar characters. The view screen revealed an illuminated green grid ith a series of circular bands pulsing around a tiny red dot. As Phil stepped farther into the hallway and turned toward the door to the den, two more red dots appeared, along with the same pulsating bands. Phil’s face was tight with worry and possibly fear.
Frank and Joe watched as he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to them.
Huddled together, Frank and Joe read what was obviously a hastily ritten note from their friend. The impact of the last five words on the page struck the brothers with the force of a blow: “They know everything! Your house has been bugged!”
10
Nowhere Is Safe
The impact of Phil’s note weighed heavily on the Hardys. They knew that if Phil was right, everything they had said, every plan, every suspicion had been overheard by the techno-thieves.
Joe suddenly realized they had been quiet far too long. He didn’t want to tip off anyone listening, so he acted quickly. “Hey there, buddy,” he said, patting Phil on the back a little harder than was necessary. “These mileage gauges will sure come in handy for the bike ride tomorrow.”
Joe could see that Phil was confused, but Frank caught on instantly. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly. He grabbed a pen and some paper from a notepad by the door. “My gauge broke last month.” He hastily scribbled a note to Phil telling him to play along. “Thanks for bringing this over.”
The note read, “Go along with us on this while we search the place.” Phil read the message and nodded. “No problem,” he replied.
While Frank and Phil pretended to talk about schoolwork and friends, Joe pulled a chair under the smoke detector in the hallway. He carefully climbed up on the chair and examined the unit. A small microphone, no wider than a pencil and one-quarter the length, was hidden between the detector and the ceiling.
Frank found the second one that Phil’s device indicated was there. It was hidden behind a ventilation grating, just inside the doorway to the dining room. They left both microphones in place.
“So, you want to hang out here for a while?” Joe asked Phil, still trying to decide what to do.
“If I’m going to hang out here,” Phil said, pulling two more scanners from his backpack and giving them to the boys, “I need to know … if you guys have any snacks. I’m starved.”
“Sure thing,” Joe replied. He indicated that he would search the living room hile Phil took the kitchen.
“I have to help Aunt Gertrude with something,” Frank said. “But I’ll only be in there a minute, so I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Okay?”
The boys agreed, and each went off in his set direction.
When Frank entered the den, he signaled his aunt not to mention the device in his hand.
“Hey, Aunt Gertrude,” Frank said as he handed her the note. “I was just thinking, you said one of the people on that map worked for the new cable company.”
His aunt appeared nervous as she finished reading. “Uh, yes,” she muttered.
“When did he stop by?” Frank began moving around, sweeping the room with Phil’s scanner.
“Day before yesterday,” Aunt Gertrude replied. Her voice was steadier.
“Well, no offense,” Frank said. He turned and winked at her. “But Joe and I have been solving cases for a long time, and we just don’t see how that guy could be involved.”
“Oh, really?” Gertrude Hardy’s brow wrinkled into a scowl.
“Yep.” Frank had found another device hidden on top of a bookcase. “You’ll get better at this if you stick with it.”
Frank couldn’t tell if the withering look his aunt gave him was because of the device he’d found or because of what he had said.
He hoped it was the first, not the latter.
After searching the house, the boys located six microphones. They also located a tracking device in the Hardys’ van. They decided to leave them all connected—at least for now.
Finally Joe slipped into his room and turned on his CD player, and Frank turned on a radio in the kitchen, while Phil checked out the back porch. When he signaled that it was clear, the boys and Aunt Gertrude gathered out there.
“Why didn’t you let me remove the bugs?” Phil asked Frank.
“Because that would alert the thieves that we were onto them. They might take off, and then we’d never catch them and clear Mr. Silvers.”
“How did you know they’d bugged us?” Joe asked Phil.
“A hunch,” Phil replied. “Once I realized the kind of equipment they had access to, it seemed logical.”
“But when did they do it?” Aunt Gertrude asked. She looked a little stunned. Her eyes were wide with amazement.
“We’ve been out of the house a lot,” Joe said. He turned to their aunt. “Have any strangers been by here in the past two days?”
>
“Not really,” she replied. “There were Clayton, your father’s client, Mr. Dean, a child selling magazine subscriptions, and the cable TV man.”
“A cable guy?” Phil asked.
“Yes,” Aunt Gertrude replied. “From the new company. They’ve taken over the accounts from the old cable company. They just wanted to check our service.” Aunt Gertrude looked frightened. “Did I do the wrong thing?”
“No way,” Joe told her. He put an arm around her shoulders.
“That makes the second time these guys have turned up in this case,” Frank said. “It’s time we checked them out.”
“They came into our house,” Aunt Gertrude said. She didn’t really look at anyone. She stood there, numb, as if she couldn’t believe her own words.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Gertrude,” Joe told her. “We found these bugs, and we’ll figure out where the guys are hiding, too. We’ll get ’em.”
“Meanwhile,” Frank added, “if you’d feel safer out of town, visiting a relative, I can call—”
Anger flashed in Gertrude Hardy’s eyes. “No one is running me out of my own home!” she almost shouted, then caught herself. “No one.”
Frank and Joe had never seen their aunt look so angry and determined.
“Then tomorrow we get serious,” he said. “Joe and I will use our trail bike trip with Callie and Iola to check a couple of possible targets.”
“Cool,” Joe said. He turned to his aunt. “And you and Mr. Silvers can try to locate the point man’s hideout.”
“You bet we will,” Aunt Gertrude said forcefully.
“Well, I’d better get back to my house and workshop,” Phil said. “I want to see what else I can find out about that device.”
Phil said good night to Aunt Gertrude, and she strolled back into the kitchen. Frank and Joe walked Phil to his car and watched as he drove down the street. No car lights suddenly flicked on. There was no sudden screeching of tires as a pursuit car peeled away from the curb.
“Guess no one is following him,” Frank said. “But the people we’re up against could be watching from across town, and we wouldn’t even know it. Spooky.”
Past and Present Danger Page 6
