The Hunt for Four Brothers

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “As crazy as it all sounds,” Craven admitted, “it’s beginning to make sense.”

  The elevator doors opened, and they hurried down the hall to room 301. Joe felt the carpet outside the door. “It’s damp,” he whispered to Frank.

  Craven tried the door. It was locked. He knocked, but there was no answer. “Mr. Flatts, it’s Jim Craven.” Still no one answered. Craven pulled out his passkey and unlocked the door.

  Tony Alvaro stood near the small room desk. Seated at the desk was Milo Flatts in a bathrobe, holding a magnifying glass. Set on a piece of black velvet and glimmering under the desk lamp was a pile of green emeralds.

  14 The Caught Red-Handed

  * * *

  “I hope you have a very good reason for breaking into my room,” Flatts said calmly, making no effort to hide the emeralds.

  “I knocked,” Craven said.

  “Does that mean I have to answer?” Flatts said. “Mr. Alvaro preferred we kept our meeting private.”

  “I can see why,” Joe huffed, “since you’re dealing in stolen gems.”

  “Stolen?” Alvaro retorted. “These were purchased on my last trip to South Africa. I have the papers on their sale.”

  “The third brother is an emerald, and you don’t have the papers for its sale,” Joe accused.

  “The third brother,” Alvaro said, chuckling. “You must be kidding.”

  “So you know about it?” Craven asked.

  “Any gem merchant knows about the four brothers,” Alvaro replied.

  “A gem merchant?” Frank asked.

  “Yes, that’s what I do for a living,” Alvaro replied, pulling a business card from his pocket. “I know that each of the four brothers is two hundred and fifty carats. As you can see, nothing I’m showing Mr. Flatts for his niece is more than three carats.”

  Joe looked at the pile of emeralds and realized all the stones were relatively small.

  “I was looking to give my niece a special birthday present,” Flatts added.

  “You can’t deny you were in the peacekeeping force in Kormia, where the four brothers were stolen,” Joe said.

  “No. I am very proud to have served there,” Flatts said. “But if you think I could smuggle something like that out of Kormia, you’re mistaken. Between the United Nations and U.S. Customs, every American soldier and his luggage was inspected thoroughly before we were allowed back into the States.”

  “We followed wet footprints from the lake to your room,” Frank snapped. “You tried to drown Joe.”

  “I haven’t been out of my room since dinner,” Flatts insisted.

  “Then why is your hair wet?” Frank asked.

  “I took a shower just before Mr. Alvaro arrived,” Flatts said, growing agitated.

  Craven peeked into the bathroom. “Looks like the shower’s been used recently,” he conceded with a frown.

  Frank noticed the bump on Flatts’s forehead. ‘’That bump! You were the one who attacked me in the kitchen!”

  “I got this bump when I slipped in the shower,” Flatts responded. “Mr. Craven, you can expect Konawa to hear from my lawyer about my injury in your shoddy shower, your illegal entry into my room, and your slanders about my character!”

  “You have my most sincere apologies,” Craven said. “Let’s go, boys.”

  • • •

  Outside Flatts’s room, the boys followed Mr. Craven to his office in silence.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Craven,” Frank said after closing the door behind him. “I thought we had them red-handed.”

  Craven sat at his desk, solemn faced, staring at Frank, barefoot and in dripping wet clothes, and Joe, in his wet shorts and flip-flops. Joe wasn’t sure they looked like drowned rats, but he sure felt like one.

  “They’re lying, Mr. Craven,” Joe finally said softly. “If Mr. Alvaro’s a gem merchant, then he’s an underhanded gem merchant.”

  Frank snapped his fingers. “Alvaro is probably the fence that Flatts and Jons are using to buy the stolen gems!”

  “Maybe Flatts couldn’t smuggle out the four brothers, but that doesn’t mean Jons couldn’t have,” Joe suggested.

  Craven picked up his phone and dialed a phone number. “When you came by earlier to see me, I was in town talking with the state police. They had called in a special agent working for the United Nations. Gus Jons was questioned about the theft by the police in Kormia, but since he didn’t have the gems on him and they had no solid evidence, they let him go.”

  “So you believe us?” Joe said.

  Craven nodded and smiled.

  “We think there’s a third man, a Russian accomplice,” Frank told him.

  “Right!” Joe chimed in. “If Jons was a suspect and Flatts couldn’t bring the gems back safely, no wonder they sent them through Kiev.”

  “Agent Anderson, this is Jim Craven,” Craven said into the phone. “I have those two boys in my office. Okay?” Craven handed the receiver to Joe. “Tell Agent Anderson everything you know.”

  The Hardys filled the agent in on everything they had uncovered. Frank concluded the call by telling him, “And I’m afraid Sandy and Borda Jones might be messed up in this somehow. I saw them with a large red gem they said was glass, but I’m pretty sure it was the first brother.”

  “Ask about Prossk,” Joe reminded Frank.

  “Oh, one last thing,” Frank added. “Could you find out if any member of the Russian peacekeeping force had a connection to a company in Kiev called Prossk Home Products?”

  Craven took the phone back. “Yes, sir. Very good, I’ll see you then.” Graven hung up. “You’re sure you saw the Joneses with a large ruby?”

  Frank nodded. Craven rose from his desk, checked his watch. “The state police will be here in half an hour to set up a trap, in case the crooks still meet at midnight. In the meantime, let’s go talk to Sandy.”

  • • •

  “B-fifteen,” Sandy called out to the hundred or so guests assembled in the dining room playing bingo. Frank caught Sandy glancing at him and Joe out of the corner of his eye. “I’m going to let my assistant take over,” Sandy told the crowd with a smile, motioning over a young staffer.

  “Sandy, I need to ask you about something,” Craven said, taking Sandy aside.

  “I know, Jim,” Sandy replied. “All I can say up front is, I’m sorry. Let’s go to my cottage.”

  As Joe, Frank, and Craven walked toward the maintenance building, Sandy revealed the truth behind the Hardys’ suspicions. “Borda found the thing by accident in a bar of soap. We didn’t know what to think, except we knew it meant we could retire from hard work for the rest of our lives if we sold it.”

  “Sandy, I’m surprised at you,” Craven said.

  “Jim, I’m as surprised as you are,” Sandy replied. “We eventually decided we were going to turn it in to the police, then we got scared when the trouble started and were afraid we might be in hot water for not reporting it right away.”

  “Well, I think we can overlook that,” Craven said.

  “No, sir. I put these boys in danger by not talking,” Sandy said, looking to the Hardys, “and I’ll take what’s coming to me.”

  Suddenly a woman’s scream pierced the night.

  “That came from the maple grove,” Joe realized, and broke into a run, followed by Craven and Sandy. As he passed the maintenance building, Joe heard another scream. It was coming from the Joneses’ cottage.

  Frank moved as quickly as he could in bare feet on rough ground in the dark, battling roots and rocks all the way. He saw Joe and the others rush on to the front porch of Sandy’s cottage as a bearded figure burst out the back screen door. Frank sprinted after him, lunging and tackling him by the ankles.

  Frank put a head lock on the man, but his arm slipped as the man’s false beard came off. The man hit Frank across the face, cutting his cheek with the hard object he clutched in his palm.

  “Frank?” Joe yelled from the back of the cottage.

  The man heaved
Frank to the ground and took off, jumping into a vehicle parked beyond the grove behind the maintenance building. Frank chased after him and could barely make out the shape of a pickup truck as it burned rubber and sped off.

  The others met up with Frank as he came back through the maple grove. Sandy held Borda tightly. She looked shaken.

  “A stranger with a beard threatened Borda at knifepoint,” Sandy told him. “She had to give him the ruby.”

  “Did you see who it was?” Craven asked.

  “No,” Frank replied, holding up the false beard. “But he doesn’t have a beard and he does drive a pickup truck.”

  “Gus Jons?” Joe guessed.

  “Probably,” Frank replied.

  “Until a few minutes ago no one knew we had that ruby except Frank,” Sandy said. “How did they find out?”

  “The only person I told was Joe,” Frank replied.

  “You told one other person,” Joe said.

  The Hardys spoke in chorus. “Chet!”

  • • •

  Joe knocked on Chet’s door, but no one answered. Frank, in dry clothes and shoes now, tossed Joe a clean shirt and some sneakers. “Don’t tell me he’s still asleep?”

  Joe peeked in. “No, he’s not here.”

  The bathroom door opened down the hall, and Chet Morton walked out, freshly showered. He yawned wide and sauntered down the hall. “What’s up, guys?”

  “Chet, you can’t still be tired?” Joe asked.

  “I haven’t slept yet,” Chet said. “Once I lay down, I was too wound up to sleep. I thought a shower would help.”

  “Chet, who did you tell about Borda Jones having the first brother?” Frank asked.

  “The what?” Chet asked.

  “The ruby!” Joe exclaimed.

  “I thought it was a piece of red glass,” Chet said.

  “Chet, we have a lot to tell you, but not now,” Frank implored. “Who did you tell about the ruby?”

  “No one,” Chet replied.

  “You’re sure?” Joe asked.

  “I’m sure,” Chet replied.

  The Hardys looked at each other, stumped. Then Joe slapped a hand over his forehead. “Oh, no, of course! The turtle, the bubbles. Whoever tried to drown me was under the raft when I mentioned to Julia that Borda might have found something in the soap.”

  “Probably Milo Flatts, who sent Gus Jons after it,” Frank concluded.

  “Mr. Craven’s waiting at the inn for the police. We’d better tell him,” Joe suggested.

  “Wait for me!” Chet said, hurrying past them toward his room.

  Something caught Frank’s eye as Chet passed. “Chet! What’s in your hand?”

  “Soap,” Chet replied.

  “Russian soap,” Frank said, pulling out his penknife.

  “I was out,” Chet said plaintively, holding out the soap. “I didn’t think one bar would make any difference.”

  Frank grabbed the soap and tried to cut it in half, but his blade struck something solid just below the surface. He shaved off a sliver of soap and dropped it into his pocket. Holding the soap under the hall light, they saw the glimmering edge of a huge white diamond.

  15 A Diamond Lure

  * * *

  “The fourth brother!” Joe exclaimed.

  “Okay, what is this brother stuff?” Chet asked impatiently.

  “We’ll tell you on the way up to the inn,” Frank said.

  “Wow, you can’t even take a nap around here without missing out,” Chet said after hearing the story.

  “Borda’s with the nurse at the infirmary,” Sandy told them from the porch of the inn.

  “The authorities are on their way,” Craven added.

  Frank showed his bosses the diamond, and Joe explained about the only suspect who could have overheard him discussing the ruby.

  “We might want to detain Mr. Flatts,” Frank suggested. “I have a hunch he and his associates aren’t going to stick around much longer.”

  The group moved through the lobby and down the corridor to room 301. Craven didn’t knock this time but used his passkey. The door held fast.

  “He must have bolted it,” Craven said.

  “At least that means he’s still inside,” Frank pointed out.

  “Mr. Flatts?” Craven called, but no one opened the door.

  “Step aside,” Sandy said.

  “Let’s try it together,” Joe replied. “One, two, three!”

  Joe and Sandy slammed their feet against the door. The slide bolt tore off its mooring and the door flung open. An open suitcase was on the bed, and the sliding glass door was ajar.

  Joe rushed out to the balcony. A rope ladder with metal hooks dangled from the railing. “We missed him,” Joe said.

  “Flatts must have heard us at the door and made an escape,” Craven guessed.

  “Must have been a quick escape,” Sandy remarked. “We were out there only fifteen or twenty seconds.”

  “Let’s check Alvaro’s room,” Joe suggested.

  “We’ll use my passkey,” Sandy said, going with him.

  Frank scanned the grounds but saw no movement. As he looked up, a flash of light caught his eye. From high up Konawa Mountain, someone was sending a signal!

  Scrambling to the desk in the room, Frank returned with a pen and paper and started notating the dot-and-dash signals, then handed them to Jim Craven.

  “ ‘Will meet you there, midnight,’ ” Craven translated. “ ‘Await further orders.’ ”

  “ ‘Will meet you there,’ ” Frank repeated, thinking. “That sounds like he was responding to a message!”

  “But who is he?” Craven asked. “If you just tussled with Jons a few minutes ago, he wouldn’t have had time to reach the asylum.”

  “It could be their Russian accomplice,” Frank said. “The one with the huskies, who’s been camping out up there.”

  “If Flatts was out on the balcony with the ladder already, sending a signal,” Craven said, guessing, “it might explain how he could escape so quickly.”

  Frank pulled a bull’s-eye lantern and a box of matches from under the lounge chair. “Their Russian accomplice is awaiting further orders, Mr. Craven,” Frank said, lighting the lantern. “With your help, I can send him some good ones.”

  • • •

  Alvaro’s room was vacant, and all his luggage, gone. Joe and Sandy ran to the parking lot, but Alvaro’s luxury car was nowhere to be seen. “They’ve all flown the coop,” Joe said, kicking the gravel.

  “Let’s go tell the others,” Sandy said.

  When Joe stepped back into room 301, he saw Jim Graven on the balcony swiftly opening and closing the shutter of a gas lantern. “What’s going on?” Joe asked.

  “Watch,” Frank said, pointing high up the mountain. A moment later a light began to flash from the asylum. “What did he say, Mr. Craven?”

  “Roger and out,” Craven replied, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I sure hope this works.”

  “I had Mr. Craven signal Flatts’s accomplice that the fourth brother was in one of the rooms at the male staff quarters and ordered him to retrieve it,” Frank explained to Joe and Sandy.

  Joe saw the rolling blue lights of four police cars rounding the bend in the road leading to Konawa. “If the ‘wolfman’ comes, this time we’ve got him!”

  • • •

  “How did you know about Vladimir Prossk?” Agent Anderson asked Frank as he shook his hand. State police officers had surrounded the Sweatbox, hiding out of sight in the brush and trees.

  “We had a hunch based on the return address on Gus Jons’s package,” Frank replied.

  “That’s his uncle’s company, but Vladimir worked there before joining the peacekeeping force,” Anderson said.

  “Which explains how he could plant the gems inside the bars of soap,” Joe guessed.

  “Any idea whether Prossk will be coming alone?” Anderson asked.

  “If he shows up, he’ll be alone,” Frank replied. “If he runs
into Flatts or Jons before he gets here, he won’t come at all.”

  “Wait, Frank—he won’t be alone,” Joe said, correcting his brother. “He’ll have his two Siberian huskies with him.” To the others, he said, “We figure they’ve been trained to sniff out this soap.”

  “Is there any of this soap in the building?” Craven asked.

  “I scavenged twenty-four bars from the cottages,” Chet said, smiling apologetically at Craven.

  “They’re in a wastepaper basket in our room,” Frank added.

  “That should draw them in,” Anderson said.

  Four staff members came out of the Sweatbox, followed by Sandy, who walked up to Agent Anderson. “All the staffers are out.”

  “I’ll take them up to the inn,” Craven said.

  Anderson checked his watch. “Frank, you said the trip down from the asylum takes about forty-five minutes. We’d better get out of sight.”

  Frank started to follow Anderson. “No offense, boys, but my report says Prossk is nearly seven feet tall and incredibly strong. He may be armed. I can’t risk having civilians around.”

  “Come on, you three,” Sandy said. “We can wait this out at my cottage.”

  Frank, Joe, and Chet frowned, but nodded. Cutting across the athletic field, they headed into the maple grove with Sandy.

  “That’s tough to take it this far and then have to watch from the sidelines,” Joe muttered.

  “Shh!” Frank said, stopping. The others held still.

  Something that didn’t sound human was pattering toward them through the trees.

  A thought struck Frank. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the sliver of soap he had shaved off the bar containing the fourth brother. They’ve followed the scent to me, Frank thought to himself.

  Something growled. Sandy shined his flashlight into the pale blue eyes of two snarling huskies.

  “Okay, stay still,” Sandy said. “On the count of three, slowly start backing away toward my cottage. One, two, three.”

  Sandy, Joe, and Chet moved away, but as Frank stepped back, a huge hand grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him off the ground.

  “Give me diamond,” a deep voice demanded. The man switched on a flashlight, and Frank got his first look at Vladimir Prossk. He stood tall as a giant. A thick, coarse beard covered his face.