Evil, Inc.

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Thanks for your confidence in us,” said Frank. “I just hope that what we tell you doesn’t shake your confidence in yourself-as a judge of character.” “What do you mean?” asked Paul Reynard. “I’m talking about your nephews,” replied Frank. “The ones who are running your business,” added Joe.

  “My nephews? Is there something wrong?”

  “Maybe we should talk in private,” said Frank, glancing at Emile, who was hovering near them just within earshot. Frank hoped they had not already said too much.

  “Come into my study,” said Reynard, his face changing. “I want to hear everything you have to say.

  Forty minutes later, after Frank and Joe had explained in detail how the nephews had been making their profits, Paul Reynard shook his head in a mixture of dismay and anger.

  “I suspected that something was going on in my company. Our profits have been good - too good to be the result of honest trading. But I never dreamed our profits were blood money.” His voice grew steely. “Those scum. They are staining the Reynard name. I will show them what a mistake they make in thinking I am a helpless old man. I will make sure they go to prison for the rest of their lives.”

  He turned to the Hardys. “But what can I do to repay you for this information? I know you must be risking a great deal to tell it to me.”

  “Just forget you ever saw us,” said Frank. “And get us out of the country without anyone else seeing us,” said Joe.

  Paul Reynard nodded. “Say no more. My military-intelligence experience taught me the need for discretion in undercover activities. I will be happy to do what you ask.”

  Frank and Joe looked at each other and grinned. Just a short time earlier, their mission had seemed a total failure. Now it was turning into a complete success. It was almost too good to be true.

  “Let us have champagne to toast my revenge,” said Paul Reynard, pulling a bell cord. A moment later, Emile appeared, this time without his gun.

  “Champagne,” Paul Reynard commanded. “I’m afraid we’re not really into drinking,” said Frank.

  “Though a couple of Cokes would hit the spot,” added Joe.

  “Oh, you Americans,” said Paul Reynard, and told Emile to bring two bottles of soda along with the champagne.

  The Cokes arrived already poured over cracked ice in tall elegant glasses. The Hardys waited for Paul Reynard to open his champagne bottle and make a toast before they drank.

  Paul Reynard expertly pulled the cork from the bottle-but the pop of the fizzing champagne was drowned out by a loud noise from outside.

  “There’s an army base nearby here,” Paul Reynard explained. “Their training helicopters insist on flying low over the countryside. You can imagine the effect they have on my horses, but my complaints to the authorities have been useless. “

  Then he raised his glass and the Hardys raised theirs. “To victory over crime,” Paul Reynard said.

  “To victory,” Frank and Joe exclaimed together, their voices slightly hoarse, throats parched after their long, hot, hard day. But the glasses didn’t reach their lips. “Such a nice party. We couldn’t stand not being invited,” said a familiar voice.

  It belonged to Pierre Reynard, who was standing in the doorway, a pistol in his hand. He was not alone.

  As he entered the room, he was followed by his two brothers, as silent and sinister as ever.

  Next came Denise, her pretty face grim.

  Then two more people entered the room.

  “What the - ?” cried Frank.

  “It can’t be!” exclaimed Joe.

  The last two people couldn’t be real. They had to be ghosts, the ghosts of the gangster Jacques, who had died in the shoot-out with the police, and the ghost of Karl, the policeman whose death had made the Hardys murderers.

  Chapter 13

  “THE LOOK ON the faces of you two Americans! It alone was worth the trip down here,” said Pierre, chuckling. They had gathered in the chateau’s drawing room. The Hardy brothers and Paul Reynard were sitting together on a couch. The Reynard nephews sat on a couch facing them. Beside the Reynards, Denise sat on Napoleon’s chair, while Jacques, Karl, and Emile stood with their guns drawn. “You looked like you were seeing ghosts,” Pierre went on, still smiling. “Do you blame us?” said Joe. “I’ll let Denise explain the whole thing to you.” “She doesn’t have to,” replied Frank. “I’ve figured it out.”

  “Oh, come now,” said Pierre disbelievingly. “You don’t know my brother,” said Joe. “He probably has figured it out.”

  “You staged that phony police capture of us as a test to see if we were reliable,” said Frank. “You probably do it to all new customers you aren’t sure of. And when I knocked out Karl, you saw your chance to blackmail us since you needed a couple of guys like us for the Carlos snatch. “

  “So it wasn’t the police who captured us, it was a bunch of Reynard crooks in disguise,” said Joe.

  “Very good,” said Pierre, nodding. “Too good, in fact, for a pair of punk criminals. But your coming to my dear uncle here already told me that. It was quite a surprise when Emile called us to say a couple of young Americans had come knocking on the door. It was a good thing we had a high-speed helicopter to get us here. Now you can spare yourselves a lot of unpleasantness by telling us who you really work for.”

  “That’s right,” said Denise. “For your sakes, I suggest you tell us immediately.”

  “Why should we?” asked Frank. “Whether we do or don’t, you’re not going to let us leave this place alive.”

  “And I bet Karl doesn’t have one of his truth machines’ handy,” said Joe.

  “No, he doesn’t,” replied Pierre. He smiled. “He has something better. Do you want to tell the Americans what Karl can use here, Uncle?”

  “You swine,” said Paul Reynard through clenched teeth … You will never get away with this. “

  “And who will stop us, Uncle?” asked Pierre. “You, unfortunately, will soon die of a fall from one of your beloved horses. And of course these two Americans will never be heard from again.”

  Pierre turned back to Frank and Joe. “Since my uncle seems unwilling to reveal one of the most fascinating features of the chateau, I will do it for him. after all, it will soon belong to my brothers and me. So I will personally take you on a guided tour.” He nodded at Jacques and Karl, who in turn motioned with the guns for the Hardys to rise.

  “You come, too, Denise,” said Pierre. “In your new position, you should know as much as you can about our operations. That’s why we’ve brought you along on this trip.” “I’ve been promoted,” Denise told the Hardys.

  “There has been public pressure to have a woman on our board of directors,” explained Pierre. “Denise will fit the bill very nicely. Of course, she will have to change from her current style of dress to a more executive look.”

  “With the salary I’ll be getting,” said Denise, “I’ll be able to buy my clothes from the best designers in Paris.” “Just be careful not to put any of that cash in your pockets,” said Frank bitterly. “Bloodstains don’t wash out.”

  “That’s the last time I’ll ever go for a pretty face,” muttered Joe.

  “It’s the last time you will ever do anything,” Pierre corrected him. “But now let me show you something in this house that is far more interesting than paintings and furniture.”

  Pierre and Denise used their guns to herd the Hardys out of the room and down a corridor lined with mirrors in gilt frames.

  “My family built this house a hundred and seventy years ago, after they had become successful businessmen. But long before that, the Reynards were barons who added to their estates by seizing those of their neighbors. The house was built on the ruins of our family castle … “

  Frank and Joe found themselves staring down a stone stairway descending into musty-smelling darkness.

  ” … Especially the family dungeons,” said Pierre, who snapped a switch that lit the stairs. “Go. There is still more to s
ee.”

  Lights had been installed in the damp, cold stone underground chambers where daylight never penetrated.

  The Hardys were able to peer through the slots in thick iron doors to see narrow cells without a stick of furniture in them.

  “The best is yet to come,” Pierre announced as he opened the door to a much larger chamber.

  “Enter and see one of the finest collections of its kind in the world.”

  In the chamber was a bewildering array of strange-looking instruments. “This is a rack, on which a human being can be stretched until he is literally torn apart,” said Pierre. “And this is a press, which gradually crushes a person to death. Here is my favorite - a cutting machine that will neatly slice off fingers, toes, and even whole arms and legs. Medieval tortures were quite ingenious, and my ancestors collected only the very best.” He paused, and then smiled. “You will notice how excellently these instruments have been preserved. They are all in perfect working order.”

  “You can’t intend to - ” Frank began, but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  “You’ve got to be crazy,” said Joe.

  “It is you who are crazy-if you do not talk,” said Pierre. “You may die in any case, but I assure you that Karl can use these instruments to make you beg for death.”

  “He’s right, you know,” said Denise. “Be sensible.”

  “Why should we listen to you?” exclaimed Joe.

  “Then listen to your own fears,” said Pierre. “I think an hour in one of these cells will give you enough time to see reason. And if you don’t, Karl is eager to have his fun.” Minutes later, the Hardys found themselves locked in one of the cells, staring at the iron door. Suddenly the door vanished. The light had been turned off. The cell was pitch black. Joe heard only the sound of Frank’s voice. “There’s no way out.”

  Chapter 14

  “LISTEN,” FRANK WHISPERED in the darkness of the dungeon cell. Someone was turning the key in the door.

  “We’ll try to jump him when he comes in,” Joe whispered back. “I’ll stand on the right. You stand on the left. It’s our last chance.”

  The door swung open. Electric light from the corridor poured into the cell to reveal Frank and Joe pressed to the wall on either side of the doorway. But no one entered the cell.

  “Forget about the surprise you were planning” Denise called from the corridor. “I am not stupid enough to fall for that. Back up, both of you.”

  The Hardys could be sure she had a gun in her hand. Shrugging, they retreated to the center of the cell. From there, they could see Denise framed in the open doorway. Her hands were empty except for the door key. And she was alone. The Hardys braced themselves to make a charge at her.

  “Relax, idiots,” she said, as if talking to small children. “Can you not see that I am here to help you escape?”

  “You mean you’ve been sent to persuade us to tell the Reynards what they want to know, and save them the trouble of using their torture machines,” said Joe.

  Denise shook her head. “You are slow to understand. It is bad enough that I must reveal my identity in order to save your lives. The least you could do is cooperate. We do not have much time before the Reynards come down here after you.”

  “Your identity?” Frank repeated. “You mean - “

  “That’s right,” replied Denise. “I work for the French Surete. I have been investigating the Reynard operation for two years now. I had just a few more pieces of the puzzle still to piece together to complete the picture when you two came along to complicate matters.” “So it was you who freed Carlos,” cried Frank. “Now you understand,” said Denise.

  “And you arranged for him to frame us for it so the Reynards wouldn’t suspect you,” Frank went on.

  “You were willing to throw us to the wolves like pieces of meat,” said Joe.

  “I thought you were a couple of punks who deserved any punishment you got,” said Denise.

  “That was before you escaped to see Reynard and expose his nephews. But what are you smiling at, Joe? A private joke?”

  “Yeah, a private joke,” said Joe, who was smiling ruefully.

  “My brother is thinking that you’re a lot tougher than you look, and a lot tougher than, say, we would have been in that spot,” spoke up Frank.

  Denise shrugged. “The Surete does not hire weaklings. But I still don’t know who you work for.”

  “No soap,” said Joe, shaking his head. “This may be another trick to get us to reveal ourselves.”

  Denise nodded. “I see that you are professionals, too,” she said. “You can tell me about yourselves later-after we get out of here.”

  “if we get out of here,” Frank corrected her, as he heard footsteps approaching.

  “Quiet,” whispered Denise, and turned to greet Karl and Jacques. “What are you doing here?” asked Karl.

  “I thought a little feminine persuasion might tempt them to talk,” Denise replied, flashing Joe a quick look of gratitude for the idea. “That won’t be necessary,” said Karl, with a wolfish grin. “Pierre told me to take them to the torture room now and start softening them up.”

  Karl couldn’t wait to start. He pulled his pistol from his pocket and snarled, “Come on, you two. It is truth time. Get mov - ” Then two things happened almost instantly.

  Denise’s hand came down on the wrist of Karl’s gun hand in a karate chop that sent the gun dropping from fingers that had gone limp as spaghetti. A second later, both of her hands sent him flying through the air to smash against the wall.

  Before Karl even hit the floor, Denise had wheeled to send her fist smashing against Jacques’s jaw. His eyes glazed over, his knees buckled, then his body collapsed to the floor.

  “What are you waiting for?” Denise asked the Hardys, who were watching the action openmouthed. “Do something.”

  “You mean you actually need some help?” exclaimed Joe. Shaking off his awe at her efficiency, he jumped Karl, who was struggling to rise to his feet. The impact of Joe’s body, and then of his fist, sent Karl back to the floor. He went out like a light. “Shall we lock them in the cell?” asked Joe.

  “I don’t think so,” answered Denise. “If they awaken soon, they might bang loudly enough on the door to attract attention.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Frank. “We can give them a taste of their own medicine.”

  He grabbed Karl’s arms and dragged his unconscious body out of the cell and toward the torture chamber. Joe got the idea and did the same with Jacques.

  A few minutes later, both crooks were securely locked in place - Karl spread-eagled on the rack, Jacques with a crushing weight dangling over his body. Then they were gagged with their own shirts.

  “When they come to, they’ll have lots of time to think about what torture really feels like,” said Frank as he, Joe, and Denise tiptoed down the corridor and to the stairway. “Let’s hope that by the time they’re released, we’re far away from here,” said Joe.

  “We should be,” replied Denise. “They’ve left the helicopter unguarded.”

  “I hope I can handle it,” said Joe. “I’ve had some flight training on American machines, but I’ve never used a French control board.”

  “Neither have I,” said Frank.

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Denise. “I have.”

  “I should have known,” muttered Joe.

  “Is there anything you can’t do?” asked Frank.

  “Cook,” Denise answered with a grin.

  They had reached the ground floor of the chateau and were moving cautiously down an empty corridor.

  “Which exit do we use?” asked Joe.

  “We cannot leave yet,” said Denise. “We must make one more stop.”

  “What?” asked Frank. Then, before Denise could answer, he said, “Of course. Paul Reynard.” “Good thinking.”

  “Elementary,” said Frank, unable to resist using the favorite word of his favorite detective. “Where did t
hey lock him up?” “In his study. Fortunately, they gave me the key.” “It’s lucky they trust you,” commended Joe “Luck has nothing to do with it,” Said Denise.

  “I spent two long hard years winning that trust. I don’t like to think of some of the things I had to do.”

  They reached the study door, but before they entered, Frank glanced around. “Where are the nephews?” he whispered.

  “Celebrating your capture with champagne,” said Denise. “And looking forward to inheriting Reynard and Company, not to mention this property and the Reynard stables, when I left them, they were talking about using drugs on the horses to win big purses.” “Nice guys,” said Joe. “Anything they wouldn’t do for money?” “If there is, I haven’t discovered it.” Denise unlocked the study door. Paul Reynard was sitting at his desk. His expression turned icy when he saw Denise. Then he smiled when he saw the Hardys behind her.

  “You’ve come to save me,” he exclaimed. “I knew that a young lady so beautiful would not be capable of committing such ugly crimes.”

  “Good to know I’m not the only one who’s a sucker for a pretty face,” said Joe with a grin.

  “Thank you for your gallantry, but we have no time for it,” said Denise, all business. “We must get to that helicopter fast.”

  “Then I was right,” said Paul Reynard. “You really are trying to save me. This is not just a ruse to win the confidence of these young men.”

  “Of course I am trying to save you,” replied Denise. “The Surete frowns upon the murder of innocent people.”

  “I apologize. My experience in army intelligence taught me always to be on the alert for deception,” said Paul Reynard.