Witness to Murder

by Franklin W. Dixon

  "I — I can't remember." Annie frowned. "I did visit his mother before I came to Bayport. That would have been, let's see, just over a month ago."

  "When had his mother last seen him?" Frank asked as he led the way back upstairs to Annie's apartment.

  "She said she hadn't seen him in a long time, ·but she made me read a letter that Phil had written to her." Annie paused as if wondering whether or not to go on. "She — well, she always wanted Phil and me to stay together. She was urging me to go find Phil."

  "Did you look at the address on the letter? Where was Phil when he wrote it?" Frank continued to press for information.

  "I glanced at it, since his mother kept insisting I look at it. I think it was a Hundred-eleventh or - twelfth Street, something like that. In New York City."

  "It's not much to go on. But I found a matchbook cover outside Phil's apartment. It came from a bar on Amsterdam Avenue, way uptown. I think I'm going to take a little trip to the city. And I think, Annie, that I'd better share with you all the information I have so far."

  "I'm going, too, Frank," Joe answered. "Anything we find out will help Annie. Obviously someone thinks she knows something, and she's involved whether she wants to be or not."

  "I'm not staying here alone," Annie protested. "I'll go also. Besides," she added shyly, with a hint of the old sparkle in her eyes, "you know, I always wanted to watch you detectives in action."

  "Okay," Joe agreed. "Get your stuff ready. I'll run down for your suitcases. You're not staying here anymore."

  They waited until Annie washed up, changed into a skirt and heels, and threw her stuff into the bags, which they tossed in the back of the van. After pulling into a fast-food place, they ordered hamburgers, fries, and sodas, which they ate on , the way to the city.

  The trio sat quietly as Frank maneuvered through the traffic on the streets of the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

  Finding the bar was easy, and Frank luckily got a parking spot nearby. It was nearly five o'clock, the time the bar started to fill with customers. It was small and shabby, and the bartender was especially friendly.

  "Hiya, folks. Welcome to Norm's. Long time no see, A — "

  "Are you Norm?" Annie cut off the greeting and laughed. "Sorry to bother you, Norm, but we just need some information. My friends are looking for a guy named Phil Sidler. Lived around here, we think."

  None of Annie's earlier fear showed in this exchange. She stepped easily into the role of private investigator. She seemed to have a natural talent for the work. "Tall, blond, wore his hair in long sideburns. Big nose, so thin if he turned sideways you might miss him," she joked.

  The bartender grinned, eyeing Annie curiously. "Good description. What's this information worth to you?"

  Annie dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty. She casually tucked it into the glass closest to her as she perched on a bar stool.

  "Last time I saw him, he called the Riverview Apartments home." Norm continued to arrange beer mugs in neat rows, all the time keeping a cheerful smile on his face. "Two blocks west of here, on a Hundred and twelfth."

  "Thanks, Norm — if you're Norm." Annie smiled and rejoined the Hardys, who had watched the exchange with astonishment. "Not bad, huh?" she whispered to Joe.

  "You're hired," said Joe, putting his arm around Annie and escorting her out onto the street. "Our agency could use a woman." He grinned at Annie as if the two of them were alone, and Annie looked relieved that she had done well in spite of her nervousness.

  Meanwhile, Frank was deep in thought. Had he imagined it, or had the bartender recognized Annie as they entered the bar? He glanced at the smiling, wholesome-looking girl, beaming under Joe's affectionate praise. Surely Frank was wrong. Why would a nice nineteen-year-old girl be known in a dive like that?

  Frank erased the thought from his mind. He had too many other things to worry about now.

  Even though the Riverview Apartments were just two blocks from Norm's bar, they moved the van and parked beside the curb outside the redbrick building. If there was any view of the river from the building, it would be from the roof, Frank thought, on a clear day. They approached the entrance but stopped at the bottom of the three steps.

  "How do we get in?" Joe looked at the wrought-iron gate in front of the entrance door. Each needed a key. "Up to you, Annie." Frank and Joe quickly disappeared around the corner to watch Annie.

  She waited a couple of minutes, until an overweight, matronly woman started toward the building, then she took a deep breath and stepped into the role as if she were made for it. Quickly Annie rummaged through her purse. "I've done it again," she said, scolding herself as the woman approached the door of the building. "Phil will kill me if I've lost it."

  "Left your key inside, did you?" The woman asked, eyeing Annie suspiciously. "You young people are so careless these days."

  "Oh, thank goodness." Annie looked at the woman with relief, ignoring her doubtful gaze. "At least I can wait for Phil in the hall instead of on the doorstep." She chattered on, charming the woman, and finally entered the building with her. Annie even held her groceries while she opened the two doors into the Riverview Apartments.

  "Pretty good member of our team, huh, Frank?" Joe said as the Hardys approached the door moments later. Annie held the front door open, and they slipped through.

  "Apartment Seventeen, top floor," Annie whispered. "His name is still on the box."

  The Hardys, trusting Annie's skills by now, pushed the button for the small, rickety elevator and rode up in silence.

  "Oh!" Annie stepped backward right into Joe and gasped as the door to 17 swung open. It was not locked. Inside, the picture was the same — someone had been there, too.

  They made a quick search, but expected to find nothing. Annie stood in the middle of the one tiny dark room the whole time, glancing over her shoulder and twisting the ring on her finger nervously.

  "Let's get out of here, guys. I don't like this." After seeing this new evidence, Annie was no longer pleased to be playing detective.

  Frank didn't like it, either, but he wanted to search thoroughly, anyway. He didn't know what he expected to find.

  Once again there was nothing. Whoever was employed in the search-and-destroy division of this operation was skilled and thorough.

  "Okay, let's go," he said, and led the way back to the elevator.

  Out on the sidewalk in front of the building, they all gratefully breathed in the fresh air. Annie walked toward the van ahead of the brothers, anxious to be safe inside the vehicle. As she was passing a limousine parked at the curb, both passenger doors opened. - Before either of the Hardys could react, two men dressed entirely in black leaped out and grabbed Annie, who barely had time to let out one short scream.

  The men wrestled Annie into the car and roared away.

  Chapter 7

  "No!" shouted Joe.

  "Let's go after them," Frank yelled, heading for the van. "Keep your eye on that car."

  The Hardys dashed for their van, and Frank had the engine roaring before Joe fastened his seat belt.

  Frank followed the limo easily, racing through yellow lights and weaving in and out of traffic. But near a group of warehouses a red light stopped them. Frank had been so intent on chasing the limo that he didn't notice it until it was too late. It was then that he heard the scream of a siren and saw a red flashing light appear in his rear-view mirror.

  "Ignore them," Joe urged. "We'll lose Annie." He sat forward in his seat as if he could help Frank drive faster.

  Frank heaved a sigh. "I can't, Joe. Keep an eye on the limo as long as possible." Frank pulled the van to the curb and waited for the ticket that was certain to follow.

  When Frank stopped, Joe jerked open his door and hit the sidewalk running. One of the police officers called out to him, but he ignored the man's shouts. He sprinted after the limo for two blocks, watching it pull farther and farther away. Annie, he thought determinedly, I can't lose you now.

  The black c
ar slowed at an intersection, and just as Joe thought he might catch up, it turned right and disappeared. Joe pounded the concrete even harder until he reached the corner where the limo had turned. There was an empty lot on one side, an old building surrounded by a fence on the other, and directly in front of him a ramp that led to underground parking.

  Joe's lungs burned as his breath came in ragged spurts, and his legs, with the oxygen depleted, felt heavy as lead. He glanced around, knowing the limo hadn't gone farther. It had to have gone down the ramp.

  Cautiously he slipped into the cool darkness that led under a building. The light was dim, but as soon as Joe's eyes adjusted, he saw only afew cars in a neat row. Was the building abandoned?

  No black limo. This was impossible. The limo couldn't just vanish.

  ***

  "Okay," snapped the officer, with his hand ready on the butt of his gun as Frank rolled down the window. "Out of the van—with your hands up. Let's hear your excuse for running a red light, and in your pal's case, escaping to avoid arrest."

  "Officer, I know this is going to sound wild . . ." Frank began, obediently climbing out of the car. Obviously, Joe's running off had alerted the cops to trouble. The officer's partner stood on the passenger side of the van—his hand also ready to draw his revolver — speaking into a two-way radio.

  "We're chasing a black limousine. Two guys jumped out and kidnapped a friend of ours." Frank tried to sound convincing. "A girl. Please believe me. This is urgent."

  The officer grinned. "Well, I haven't heard that story before. Good, kid, real good. Let's see your license. Officer Nolan, check the registration," he added to his partner. "Is it in the glove compartment?" he asked.

  Frank nodded and handed his license over. "I swear it's true, sir," he continued. "Can you just check it out? Then I'll take the ticket. The van is mine."

  "In a minute, kid. Before I do anything I'm going to search the van—with your permission, of course—for any illegal substances."

  "Papers check out, Officer Delgado," Nolan said. "I'm going after his buddy. He must have had some reason to run." He took off in the direction that Joe had run.

  "Check out the black limo while you're at it, Nolan," Delgado called sarcastically. "I'll keep an eye on this one."

  "Will do," Officer Nolan called back.

  Delgado checked out the van and then took Frank's license and walked slowly back to the patrol car with it.

  Frank climbed back in the van and pounded the door once, letting out his frustration. It took way too long to write a ticket, he thought, looking for Joe or Nolan.

  Finally Officer Delgado returned. "Your license is good and no tickets lately." The man seemed surprised, as if he had expected Frank to have a record. "Sign here." He shoved a clipboard through Frank's window along with a ballpoint pen.

  Frank looked it over. This was going to cost him, and his dad would be furious, but even worse was not knowing where Joe was. He scribbled his name and handed back the clipboard.

  "Your father's Fenton Hardy?" the officer asked.

  "Yes, sir," Frank said with no further comment. His dad was a former New York City detective, but Frank would never have mentioned his father's name or connections under these circumstances.

  "He's not going to like this, I'd guess."

  "No, sir. May I go now?" Frank was poised, ready to turn the key in the ignition.

  "Let's see what my partner and your friend found." Delgado pointed out Nolan and Joe, who were just returning.

  Nolan caught Delgado's eye and shook his head a couple of times. Joe, who was staring straight ahead, had a disgusted look on his face.

  Delgado grinned. "Black limo? Life-or-death matter? Good try, Hardy," he said, and patted Frank's door once. "You are free, kid."

  Frank turned then to Joe, who'd crawled into the passenger seat. "How'd you lose it?"

  "The limo turned right and vanished, Frank." Joe bit his lip, looking at him.

  "Vanished? You sure?"

  "Sure. I'm sure. It wasn't that far ahead of me. There's an empty lot on one side, a fence around an old building on the other. I checked every car in this underground lot that it had to have turned into. Nothing."

  "Let's check it out again." Frank drove the two blocks.

  The underground lot was posted private, no parking, violators will be towed. Frank pulled onto the ramp despite the warnings. He wanted to see for himself.

  "Let's look around again, Joe. It's our only lead. We can't give up."

  "I'm not giving up," Joe said. "A car that big doesn't just disappear."

  "It could have taken off by now," Frank said, calmly assessing the situation.

  Either that or the black limo had disappeared into thin air. There was no clue of any kind. The boys even checked the walls for a button to a hidden panel, but they found nothing.

  After driving back up the ramp, the Hardys carefully searched the area within a two-block radius. Nothing. Feeling dejected, they headed back to the underground parking lot and down the ramp. One more look-see, they decided.

  They'd lost Annie to who knows who or what. They hopped out their doors — neither wanted to give up. Joe walked around the front of the van to join his brother.

  "When are you going to call it quits, boys?" a man said, moving up on them from the rear of the van.

  The Hardys spun around to face two men all in black. They wore black ski masks over their faces with only their eyes and mouths showing. But it wasn't the men's appearances that held the Hardys' attention.

  It was the pair of Browning 9mm automatic pistols that they had aimed at the brothers' hearts.

  Chapter 8

  Frank and Joe barely had time to exchange a glance before they were grabbed and had their hands securely tied behind their backs and - blindfolds knotted into place across their eyes.

  "What have you done with Annie?" Joe demanded. He and Frank'stumbled as they were prodded to move blindly forward.

  "Ain't that sweet, Clive? The kid's worried about his girlfriend."

  "If you've hurt her ... " Joe's threat died out as he realized there was nothing he could do at the moment.

  "What'll you do about it? You gonna be a hero?" The thug laughed. "We got us a Prince Charming, Clive."

  "Shut up, Hodge. Just move along."

  Frank was trying to memorize by smell and sound where they were being taken. They didn't walk far before they entered an elevator. A strong chemical smell, not unlike that of shoe polish, permeated the space.

  The smell disappeared the minute they left the elevator. There was a deep carpet underfoot now, and they were being led down what seemed to be a long hall.

  "Good evening, boys," a voice greeted them just before their blindfolds were removed. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but you'll soon appreciate the reason for this secrecy."

  Frank blinked twice to focus his eyes. Then he looked around, amazed. The men who had grabbed them were now wearing mirrored sunglasses instead of their ski masks.

  The office they were in was decorated only in black and white. Walls were stark white, broken up randomly by a series of black and white abstract paintings. The carpet at their feet, deep and luxurious, was slightly off-white. The desktop in front of them looked as if it were fashioned from one solid piece of pure black marble.

  And behind the desk, leaning back casually in a large office chair, sat a tall man. His long legs were crossed at the ankles and were resting on the marble top as if he were attending a casual meeting. He wore a finely tailored black business suit. His hair had been recently styled, but the boys couldn't see his eyes. They were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

  And he wore diamonds. Many diamonds. On his right pinkie finger, on top of a thin, white leather glove, he sported an enormous, many-faceted diamond ring. A small diamond sparkled in the lobe of one of his ears. And the finishing touch was a diamond stickpin pushed jauntily into his black tie. Frank was no expert, but it hardly took a jeweler to appraise the stone in that ring.
If the diamond was real, it had to be worth at least a million.

  The man's tone as he greeted them was that of a polite host at a party. He smiled. But his smile was as cold and hard as the diamond in his tie pin And his gloved hands he kept to himself, the fingers interlocked and resting on his outstretched legs.

  "Who are you?" asked Joe, shrugging off the hands that still held him. Where's Annie?"

  "I'm right here, Joe." Annie's voice came from behind them as a third man pushed her forward.

  "Are you all right, Annie?" Joe started to move to her, but strong hands kept him where he was.

  "I — I guess so," Annie stammered.

  On the desk in front of the head man, Frank recognized the black purse that Annie had kept clutched to her. Its contents were spilled out across a white blotter. Frank's quick eye inventoried the contents, and he was surprised to find that Annie had been hiding a secret.

  She was in possession of a gun. Why would a girl who was a waitress in a pizza joint need to be armed?

  "What do you want with us?" Joe asked, growing more impatient.

  The man smiled again, perfect white teeth glittering in his wide mouth. "Forgive me for not making the introductions. My name is Cutter, Mr. Cutter. You are Frank and Joe Hardy, are you not?"

  "How do you know that?" Joe asked.

  Cutter chuckled. "I don't bring in visitors without knowing their identities."

  "Do you always tie up and blindfold your guests?" asked Frank, trying to decide how much danger they were in.

  "Untie them," Cutter commanded, gracefully lowering his legs to the floor. "It was merely a precaution. But on to the business at hand." He pushed the contents of Annie's purse—minus the gun—back into the bag. Annie stepped forward to claim it, anger in her movements.

  The man slowly smiled at her. And then he quickly relaxed the gesture of friendliness and tightened his lips into a straight line. "Where are the diamonds, Annie? Phil double-crossed me, but I know you can't be that foolish."

  Frank and Joe stared at the tall red-haired girl beside them, waiting for her answer.