The Dangerous Transmission

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The Dangerous Transmission Page 3

by Franklin W. Dixon


  When he reached the door, Frank put his ear next to it, coming as close to the door as he could without actually touching it. He heard nothing and gestured that message to Joe.

  Frank grasped the doorknob tightly. He focused on turning the knob slowly and silently. He wasn’t surprised to find it was not locked. When he heard the latch click, he stood very still for a moment. But he heard no sound from the other side of the door.

  Keeping his right hand clenched around the doorknob, he reached over with his left hand and inched the door open.

  He gazed through the narrow opening into inky blackness beyond. He could feel Joe take a small gasp of air, and realized that both of them had been holding their breath. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Then he pushed the door open farther, and he and Joe stepped inside the dark space.

  Frank sidled around the edge of the room. As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he began to see shapes. A narrow glow from a distant window formed silhouettes and shadows across the room. He began to make out stacked boxes and packages and pieces of furniture. Mounted animal head shapes jutted out from the wall, and glass eyes seemed to follow the boys’ movements.

  Frank and Joe continued to circle the large room, staying hidden behind the stored objects. Frank concentrated on his sense of hearing, listening for the slightest sound other than the barely perceptible ones that he and Joe made.

  Frank jumped a little when he felt Joe’s hand pull on his arm. Then Joe stepped behind a stack of boxes, nodding his head toward the left.

  Frank ducked down behind a desk chair. He focused his hearing toward the direction in which Joe had nodded.

  He heard the eerie sound immediately, and it was only a few yards away. Someone—or something—was breathing very fast.

  Frank looked over at Joe, who gave him a knowing nod. Joe gestured that he was going to circle around and try to get behind the source of the breathing.

  Frank peered around from behind the chair and watched Joe’s silhouette inch through the stacks and piles. He saw Joe pick up a chair leg that was leaning against a table.

  For a moment the room was still. Then a bulky shape jumped out from behind a stack of cartons and lunged toward Joe.

  “Joe—watch out!” Frank yelled. He clicked on his light. A man, caught in the beam, reversed his direction and swung around to face Frank. Then the man grabbed a hatbox and threw it at Frank’s light.

  Frank jumped back, and the hatbox crashed to the floor and popped open. Like a bowling ball headed toward a spare, the contents of the box rolled to a stop at Frank’s legs. He swung the light beam down to his feet.

  Smiling up at him was a human head.

  4 The False Tooth?

  * * *

  Breathing fast, Frank tore his attention away from the head at his feet and looked up. He saw Joe’s shadow—complete with the raised table leg—stand up behind a lumpy figure. Frank quickly aimed his light in that direction.

  “Don’t move,” Joe said to the man in front of him. The light beam caught the stranger’s ruddy, puffy face. Frank quickly zigzagged the light across the man’s body. He was wearing a bright red-and-white workout suit. The man raised his hands, palms out, to show that he had no weapon.

  Joe lowered the table leg and walked back to the door. He flipped on the overhead light, and Frank turned off his penlight and put it away.

  “Who are you?” Frank asked.

  “I might ask the same of you,” the man fired back. He had a slight French accent.

  “We are up here to investigate a trespasser,” Joe said. “Answer my question: Who are you, and why are you in this room?”

  The stranger looked around. “This is my storage room,” he answered. “I’ve been doing some inventory work.

  “At this time of night?” Frank asked.

  “In the dark?” Joe added.

  “What’s going on?” Jax asked as he slammed open the door. “Pierre! What are you doing here?”

  A startled look flashed across the man’s face. Then he vaulted over a couple of boxes and raced for the door. Joe and Jax stepped in front of him and blocked his path. The man’s face was streaked with dark red flushes. As Pierre’s hands drew up into fists, Frank stepped over to join the other two.

  The stranger seemed to realize he was no match for three young men, so he relaxed his stance and shrugged. Slowly the red receded from from his skin, indicating that he was beginning to calm down a little.

  “Okay, let’s start again, Pierre,” Frank said. “What are you doing up here?”

  “This is Pierre Castenet,” Jax said, picking up the papier mâché head and putting it back in the hatbox. “He’s a soccer coach from Toronto—semi-professional. He found out about the Molar Mike from my Canadian manufacturer. He contacted me about having a Molar Mike made to use with his team. I turned him down, but he’s been bugging me to loan him a prototype to try out.”

  “I’m sure you can all see what a good idea that is,” Pierre said. He had a very smooth way of talking, like a salesman trying to talk you into something you really don’t want to buy.

  “Everyone wins,” Pierre continued. “Jax learns how well his invention works in a real-life setting. And my team wins soccer games because I can tell my captain everything that is happening on the field.”

  “So you decided to steal the tooth,” Joe said.

  “No, no,” Pierre said, the red creeping back into his face. “No, not at all. I would never steal it. I was here to hide out.”

  “Not a good answer,” Joe pointed out. “Tell us what’s going on, or the police can handle it.”

  “Very well,” Pierre said. “I will tell you the truth. This is all a misunderstanding.”

  He adjusted his position, and then began explaining. “I came to talk to you again. I wanted to make one more appeal before returning to Canada. I have what I believe is a tantalizing offer. Your pocket will be lined with more research money.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, breaking into my home pretty much destroys any possibility of a deal,” Jax said angrily. “Now or in the future.”

  “Just listen,” Pierre pleaded. “When I arrived, your door was open, so I entered. I called your name, but there was no answer, so I figured you might be with a patient. I went into your medical suite, but you weren’t there either. Since the door had been open, I reasoned that you had merely stepped out and would return soon.”

  Pierre slid off the desk and paced a few steps back and forth. “I decided to wait,” he continued. “I admit that I poked around, looking for the Molar Mike. But I assure you, I just wanted to look at it. I was not going to steal it,” he insisted.

  “I was in your lab when I heard a loud commotion outside,” he said. “It sounded almost like a fight. Then I heard a police car pull up. I was nervous about being in your lab and afraid no one would believe I was just waiting for you.”

  Pierre stopped pacing and looked at Jax. “I decided not to reveal myself. I tried to find a back way out and discovered the stairs up to this floor. I broke in and hid out. You really need to get a better lock for that door,” he cautioned Jax.

  “I was waiting up here until it was quiet downstairs, and then I intended to leave without disturbing you any further.” Pierre shrugged his shoulders again. “But your friends here surprised me. As you can see, I am mostly innocent of any wrongdoing and would like to be on my way now.”

  Jax pulled the Hardys over to a corner where they could talk privately. “What do you think?” he asked. “Do we believe him or not?”

  “I don’t know about his story,” Joe said. “But I do know one thing: He’s definitely not the person who barreled out of your house when we first got there. Pierre’s much bigger than that guy.”

  “It’s possible that when Pierre got here, the door was unlocked because the other person had already broken in,” Frank added. “Pierre says he went right into your office. If he was in there and the other intruder was in your living quart
ers, they might not have heard each other.”

  “He talked about a commotion outside, like a fight,” Joe said. “That definitely could have been us barreling down to the bottom of the stairway.”

  “Pierre actually could be valuable to us and to the police,” Frank pointed out. “When he finds out another person was here at the same time, he might remember something about it. Let’s try to get some information out of him.”

  Frank outlined his plan with Joe and Jax, and then the three of them walked back to where Pierre waited.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” Frank offered. “Jax won’t press charges, under one condition. You said you heard a commotion—that there was possibly another intruder in the flat while you were in the medical suite. So you need to report to the police immediately—we’ll tell you to whom, and where. You must tell this officer that you were here. It’s possible you might recall something that will help nail the other intruder.”

  “I will back your story that you were here to meet with me,” Jax added. “But if you don’t agree to this condition, or if we find out that you didn’t go immediately to talk to this officer, I’ll have you picked up. I’ll press charges of breaking and entering, trespassing, and attempted theft.”

  “You won’t have to,” Pierre said. He looked relieved. “I will talk to the police immediately.”

  Frank pulled out the photos he’d taken earlier of the metal fragment he’d found in Jax’s lab. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  “What?” Pierre asked. “That metal thing?”

  “Is it yours?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t even know what it is,” Pierre said.

  Frank put the photos away, and Jax escorted Pierre Castenet down to the flat. Once they’d left, the Hardys searched through the storage room but didn’t find anything that seemed out of place so they joined Jax to see Pierre off.

  “Do you think he’ll go to the police?” Joe asked.

  “I do,” Jax said. “From what I understand, he has had problems with the law before, so he probably doesn’t want to make any more trouble.”

  Jax closed the door and locked it. “I need to get some sleep,” he said. “The press conference is this afternoon at one thirty. I should be slightly awake for that,” he added with a grin. “You guys are going to be there too, right?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it,” Frank assured him.

  Jax and the Hardys went to their rooms and fell into their beds. This time, their sleep was not interrupted.

  • • •

  Thursday morning Frank and Joe showered and dressed very quickly. They both felt an urgency to get on the case. While Joe showered, Frank called Officer Somerset to make sure that Pierre Castenet had reported to the station. He had.

  While Frank showered, Joe called Nick to find out if the fire in the Medieval Palace was still being considered an accident. The news was not very good.

  “Well, they no longer think it was an accident,” Nick said. “They’re saying the wires to the work lights were cut by a very sharp instrument. They also found some gasoline. They think that was used to prime the fire.”

  “It’s a wonder it didn’t explode,” Joe pointed out. “There would have been a lot more damage.”

  “I know. Anyway, the guard remembered the knife you found, and so they want it back for the investigation,” Nick said.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Joe replied, “but Jax doesn’t even remember taking it over there. It’s his father’s.”

  “They also found a wad of dental compound close to where they think the fire originated,” Nick said. “I told them that it was no big deal because Jax is an orthodontist and did the teeth for all the models. I think they understood, but they still want to talk to him again. I don’t think they see him as a suspect, but they’re in the dark right now. So they’re exploring all the possibilities, I guess—tying up the loose ends.”

  Nick gave Joe a phone number. “Have Jax call and set up a meeting, okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Joe said. He decided not to tell Nick about the two intruders in the flat last night until he got the okay from Jax.

  “Let’s keep in touch,” Nick said before hanging up. “Maybe we can get together later.”

  After the Hardys got dressed and had a quick breakfast, they joined Jax in his lab. He was getting ready for the press conference.

  “So this is the Molar Mike,” Joe said, holding the tooth in his hand. “Unbelievable. It looks like a regular tooth.”

  “Except for this,” Jax pointed out, gently pulling the tooth apart. The inside looked like a typical microelectronics setup, with chips and wires. He showed them test results, production graphs, and manufacturing schematics.

  “Totally awesome,” Joe said. “This would be worth a trip to the dentist.”

  The Hardys left the flat at about ten thirty. Their first stop was the police station to check in with Officer Somerset. He told them he had a lead. There had been some recent burglaries in the area, and Jax might have been hit by the same culprit.

  Frank and Joe looked at hundreds of burglar mug shots. It was a waste of time for Frank because he hadn’t gotten a good look at the man who’d shoved him from behind. Joe picked out several that fit the general look of the man he’d seen. But they all turned out to be false leads—some were in prison, others had left the country.

  Officer Somerset also confirmed that Pierre Castenet had reported in—but he had remembered nothing new that might help the investigation.

  After more than an hour the Hardys went to the hotel where Pierre had been staying. The reservations clerk told them he had checked out early that morning and had left no forwarding address. Frustrated, Frank and Joe returned to the flat.

  Precisely at one thirty Jax began to speak. He flashed a winning smile and introduced the Molar Mike to the world for the first time. The Hardys walked to the back of the room so they wouldn’t block the view of any of the journalists.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” Jax began. “I’m pleased to introduce to you my revolutionary concept.” His speech was accompanied by the clicks of cameras, the whirs of videocameras, and the staccato sounds of laptop computer keys. A small group had assembled to hear about the Molar Mike—about a dozen reporters and five photographers.

  “Now I’d like to open the floor to questions,” Jax said, concluding his formal presentation. “I’ll try to answer as many as I can.”

  He answered questions about the mechanical and scientific workings of his invention but was careful not to reveal any of the secrets behind it. After a dozen questions Jax finally seemed to reach his limit. “Thanks again, everyone, for coming. Please be sure to get a press kit from the stack on the conference table. And don’t forget to enjoy some of the delicious refreshments the caterer has pre—”

  The conference room door slammed open, startling Jax enough for him to stop speaking in the middle of a word. A man shoved past reporters and the Hardys and stopped next to Jax.

  “Geoffrey, I’m surprised to see you,” Jax said with a thin smile.

  “I’m sure you are,” the man said. He looked like he was in his forties. He was of medium height and weight and had a completely bald head.

  The man turned to address the others in the room. “My name is Geoffrey Halstead,” he announced. “I am the inventor of the Molar Mike.”

  5 Gotcha!

  * * *

  “Geoffrey!” Jax said. “That’s not true—and you know it.”

  “We’ll just let the courts decide that,” Geoffrey said. He nodded to the man who had accompanied him into the room. The reporters put down their refreshments and opened up their computers and notebooks. While cameras revved back up, the man handed a bulging envelope to Jax.

  Jax tore open the envelope and pulled out a fat wad of papers. As he skimmed through them an astonished look spread across his face.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Geoffrey said, “I have nothing further for you today. However, I assure you that t
here is much more information to come about who is the rightful creator and owner of the so-called Molar Mike.”

  Geoffrey Halstead and the other man walked briskly back out of the room.

  Jax was hammered with a new round of questions. “Look, I’m just as shocked by this as you all are,” he said. “I have only one response. Geoffrey Halstead is a liar. I am the sole creator, inventor, and owner of the Molar Mike. Thank you all for coming. Enjoy the refreshments.”

  Jax walked back to the Hardys. Shaking his head in dismay, he handed the large envelope over to Frank.

  “He’s suing you?” Joe guessed.

  “Yep,” Jax said as Frank looked over the pages.

  “Who is he?” Joe asked. “Why would he make this claim?”

  “I thought he was a friend,” Jax said. “He’s a jeweler.”

  “Of course,” Frank said. “I knew I recognized the name. He owns the shop on the first floor.”

  “That’s right,” Jax said. A few reporters circled around, but Joe firmly ushered them back to the refreshment table. He made it clear that there would be no more answers from Jax at that time. In groups of two and three, the press people finally began leaving the room.

  Joe returned to Frank and Jax. “So what does it say?” he asked, looking quickly over the papers from Geoffrey Halstead.

  “He’s demanding to be declared the co-creator of the Molar Mike,” Frank explained. “He wants a full financial and legal accounting, cash reparations, and a percentage of future profits.”

  While they talked, the Hardys helped Jax pack up the display materials and extra press kits. The tooth was packed back into its insulated container. Jax carried the container into his office. The Hardys followed with the rest of the materials.

  Jax slid a file cabinet away from the wall. Behind it was what looked like an ancient heating grate—probably part of the original architecture of the hundred-year-old building.

 

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