The Dangerous Transmission

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The Dangerous Transmission Page 9

by Franklin W. Dixon


  “Try to get us an inventory of everything that’s missing as soon as possible,” Officer Somerset said. “That may help us build our case against the man we now have in custody. And thank you again, Mr. Hardy, for your fine work.”

  Jax let the policeman out the back door of the shop, and then he and Frank went upstairs to the flat.

  “I brought in the mail,” Frank said. “It’s on the kitchen table.”

  Jax flipped through it, but found nothing interesting. “I’m going to shower,” Jax said. “I want to get the hospital smell off of me.”

  “Okay, I’m going to check in with Joe.” Frank went to the small sitting room at the front of the flat. The red light on the phone answering machine was blinking. “Jax, you have some messages,” he called to his friend.

  Jax walked in and punched the button. There were three calls. The first was from Nick, hoping Jax was back home and ready to go to work on the exhibit. The second was from Fenton asking his sons to call him. The third was from someone who sounded as if he was disguising his voice.

  “Hi, Dad,” the voice said. “It’s me, Molar Mike. Put the money in a locked black briefcase and bring it to Signer’s Wharf tonight at midnight. Leave it behind the newspaper stand. Then I can come home.”

  14 The Chill of Discovery

  * * *

  “Play the message again,” Frank said.

  Jax pushed the play button on his answering machine. The voice asking for the ransom was not the only sound on the tape.

  “Can you turn up the volume?” Frank asked.

  Jax booted it up to the highest level. Frank could hear someone else speaking.

  “Do you hear that?” Frank asked. “It sounds like a show going on in the background, someone talking steadily. And there are other noises too. People talking and laughing. Be sure to make a copy for us.”

  “Sure,” Jax said, “but I’m not turning this over to Officer Somerset.”

  “Jax—,” Frank began.

  “I know, I know,” Jax interrupted. “It’s the smart thing to do. It’s also a sure way to lose control of my invention for good.” He looked at Joe with a determined glare. “I can’t take that chance,” he added. “This is my call, Frank. I’m making it.”

  Frank knew his friend well enough to know how stubborn he could be. He decided to drop the subject for now and bring it up again when Joe could make it two against one.

  “Okay,” Frank said.

  While Jax was in the shower, Frank played the ransom tape again and again, as loud as he could. But he couldn’t make out the words in the background.

  Next Frank returned his dad’s call. “So you fellows are pretty busy over there, I take it,” Fenton Hardy said.

  “Our usual vacation,” Frank said with a chuckle. “Can’t seem to get away from the family business, Dad.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that the Tower of London called me about Jax,” Fenton said.

  “Yes—and thanks for the support.”

  “No problem. There’s no way Jax Brighton is going to be setting fires in the Medieval Palace—and I told them so. I also got an interesting e-mail from one of my buddies in Scotland Yard. He told me you caught some burglar who’s been plaguing the city for weeks. Congratulations! I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Frank said. He always felt good when his father told him that.

  “So what about Joe?” Fenton said. “It’s his turn to catch a crook, right?”

  “As a matter of fact, he’s tracking one right now. Jax is in trouble, and he’s asked us to help him out.” Frank outlined the case and told his father about the suspects. When he mentioned AA42, his father interrupted him.

  “I know the woman you’re talking about,” Fenton said. “And you’ll probably have to drop her from the list of suspects.”

  “You’re kidding! Why?”

  “The latest word on her is that she’s working both sides of the fence now.”

  “You mean she’s a double agent?” Frank asked.

  “Looks like it,” Fenton confirmed. “I can’t tell you for which countries, but apparently she’s basically on our side—for the time being, at least. Best to leave her alone right now.”

  The two Hardys talked a little longer and finally hung up. Jax came in from the kitchen, gulping water from a bottle, just as Frank was about ready to call his brother.

  “Do you know where Joe is right now?” Jax asked.

  “Not a clue,” Frank answered as he punched in the number of Joe’s cell phone. “He was going to try to track down Pierre. He was also going to see what he could find out about that shoe that was kicked into the subway tracks.”

  “Hey, Frank, what’s up?” Joe asked on the other end of the line. Frank told him about his call to their dad and the ransom call to Jax. Then he asked Joe how his afternoon had gone.

  “Pitiful,” Joe said. “First I headed back to that flat where Jax thinks Pierre might be staying. It was only about seven blocks from the park where you and I had lunch. I stopped in a couple of sporting goods stores on the way. No one had seen that black shoe before. One guy thought it might be custom-made, and he gave me the names of a couple of people who might make it. I was trying to call you—I take it you’re not tracking AA42 after what Dad said?”

  “Right,” Frank agreed. “I’m at the flat. What about Pierre? Was he at his friend’s place?”

  “No, but I talked to a woman who lives there. She’s the wife of his friend. She said he went home, back to Canada. But she acted kind of weird. She might be lying. I called Officer Somerset and left him a message about it.”

  “Ask Joe if he signed us up for karate tonight at Black Belt,” Jax said. “I won’t be able to make it, but Nick could fill in for me. He’s a black belt too.”

  “Did you hear that?” Frank asked his brother.

  “Yeah,” Joe answered over the phone. “Tell him I didn’t sign us up—I’ll wait until he’s back to full strength. Hey, I’m wondering about something. . . .” Joe was quiet for a few seconds. Then he spoke again. “You know, Nick seems to be a pretty multi-talented guy. You know? He told us he’d been a TV news anchor, a foreign language translator, a historian, a craftsman, and a restorer. Doesn’t he seem kind of young to have done all that?”

  Frank turned to Jax. “How long have you known Nick?” he asked.

  “Less than a year,” Jax answered. “Actually he’s been with the Tower longer than he usually stays with a job, according to him. He kind of follows his instincts about how long to stay in one place and when to cut and run.”

  “Did you hear that?” Frank asked Joe again.

  “I did,” Joe said. “Ask him who else knew about the Molar Mike before he announced it. Besides Geoffrey, Pierre, and Nick.”

  Frank asked Jax his brother’s question. Then he held the phone out so Joe could hear Jax’s answer.

  “I have no idea,” Jax said loudly, so Joe could hear him clearly. “As I said before, I don’t really think Geoffrey knew because when we talked early on, I wasn’t specific about the invention. We were just discussing microreceivers in general.”

  Jax sank into a chair and took a few deep breaths. Frank could tell he was still a little weak from his knockout the night before.

  “What did the doctor say you were supposed to do when you got home?” Frank asked.

  “He said I could do anything I felt like, but to take it easy. He thought I might be a little woozy. Looks like he was right.”

  Jax grabbed a couple of gulps from his water bottle, then continued to answer Frank’s question. “When Geoffrey read about the press conference, he must have put two and two together.”

  “Who else knew?” Frank prompted.

  “Well, Pierre learned about it from the manufacturer I hired in Canada. I have no idea how many leaks there were out there and who was able to pick up on them. That’s why this whole thing is so frustrating.”

  “It’s almost six o’clock. Come on back to the flat, Joe
,” Frank said. “We have to talk.”

  “Actually I just got on the Tube—we’re above ground at the moment,” Joe said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  By the time Joe got to Jax’s lane, the sun was too low behind the buildings of London to provide much warmth any more. The trees that hung over the street rustled as the evening fog and breeze began filtering through. The old-fashioned streetlights popped on, but their beam was muted to a pale glow.

  Joe was the only one on the block. He could feel the black shoe bouncing around in his sports bag as he broke into an easy jog.

  Jax’s lane was narrow to begin with, but it was made even more so by haphazard parking on both sides of the street.

  He was just a few yards away from Jax’s flat when he heard the vroooom of a small car tearing down the street toward him. With a sudden squeal of brakes, the car came to a quivering stop right next to where he stood.

  The door opened and Pierre Castenet stepped out. He wore jeans and a bright red windbreaker, and his bulk seemed to fill the little street. He slammed the door so hard, the whole car rocked a couple of times.

  “I warned you,” he snarled.

  15 Trailing a Rat

  * * *

  Pierre took a few steps closer. He outweighed Joe by at least fifty pounds, but Joe stood his ground.

  “What’s the problem, Pierre?” he asked, slowly dropping his sports bag on the sidewalk.

  “The problem,” Pierre hissed, “is you coming to my friend’s house. The problem is you talking to my friend’s wife. The problem is you and your brother not paying any attention to me when I tell you to leave me alone.”

  “Actually I’m surprised to see you,” Joe said. “Your friend told me you’d gone back to Canada.”

  “Whether I stay or go should not be your concern,” Pierre said, taking a few slow steps forward.

  Joe didn’t flinch. He stared into Pierre’s eyes without blinking. “But it is,” Joe said. “And as long as you keep bugging my friend, it will remain my concern.”

  Pierre’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be studying Joe, as if he were measuring up an opposing team. For a few seconds they stood a couple of yards apart. Neither gave an inch.

  Finally Pierre blinked. He settled back on his heels and let out a sigh. “I don’t need any more trouble,” he said in a low voice. “Just keep out of my way.”

  He walked back to his car, climbed in, and peeled down the street.

  Joe took a deep breath, picked up his bag, and walked around to the stairway that led up to Jax’s flat.

  “You missed my welcome party,” Joe said. He told them about his standoff with Pierre.

  “Sounds like you held him off,” Jax said. “But I really don’t think he’s the one who took the Molar Mike.”

  “We don’t either,” Frank said, looking at his brother. Joe nodded.

  “Jax, why don’t you rest for a while,” Frank said. “We’re going to run a few errands. We’ll even take the raven over to Nick for you.”

  “That would be great,” Jax said, getting up to collect the stuffed blue-black bird.

  Frank packed the pewter fragment, the container of pearl essence, and the copy of the ransom note into his backpack. Then he added a mini cassette player and the phone answering tape with the ransom message.

  “Okay, we’re out of here,” Frank said to Jax. “Get some rest. We may have to put you to work later.”

  The Hardys jogged to the Underground station, and within minutes they were in the Tube—Frank, Joe, and the raven.

  “Let’s go back to our first night here,” Frank said as they rode to the Tower of London. “Could Nick have been the guy that knocked me down the stairs?”

  “Sure,” Joe said. “I didn’t see any red hair, but it could have been under that cap. And I didn’t see his face at all. Remember, he didn’t come back to the Palace with you after you two met with the fire chief and guard.”

  “Right,” Frank said. “He told me he was going to stay late at the Tower and help with the clean-up and investigation.”

  “Then the guard who had interviewed Jax and me stopped us for another forty-five minutes so he could question you,” Joe pointed out.

  “Nick could have known we were being held up—or he could have even suggested that the guard talk to me. That would have given him plenty of time to get over to the flat and prowl around.”

  “And we know he was in the neighborhood last night when Jax was knocked out and the Molar Mike was stolen,” Frank said. “He popped up outside the Black Belt right afterward.”

  “He’d called Jax earlier, remember?” Joe said. “Jax told him we were all at the Black Belt. He probably figured he was clear to look around the flat. But he didn’t know that Jax planned to surprise him by going back to pick up the raven.”

  “Plus, we were with him right before I was kicked into the tracks—”

  “And he’s got black-belt kicking legs,” Frank concluded.

  “I haven’t figured out who’s behind the fire in the Medieval Palace yet,” Joe said. “But was it really an accident?”

  “Hard to say,” Frank guessed. “Jax is sure he didn’t take his dad’s knife over there. Nick could have lifted it from the taxidermy shop. Jax said that he’s been there a lot since they’ve been working together on the exhibit. Maybe Nick was trying to set Jax up for some reason.”

  “That reminds me—remember when we all finished at the Palace and were going to Nick’s flat for sandwiches?”

  “Yeah,” Frank said.

  “He said he was going to check in with the guard, and he sent us on ahead. He could have planted the knife—”

  “And the gasoline, and even the dental compound at that time.”

  “Exactly.” Joe stood up as the train slowed down. “Here we are,” he said. “Tower Hill Station.”

  Carrying the stuffed raven, Frank showed the guard at the gate the temporary pass that Jax had given him. Once inside, the Hardys walked straight to the employees’ building. They walked up to the third floor and into Nick’s quarters.

  “Nick?” Frank called. “You in here?”

  “He’s over at the exhibit hall,” a young woman answered from the corner of the messy room. She was working on a costume and was partially hidden by a large screen.

  “That’s in the Waterloo Block?” Joe asked.

  “Yes,” the girl said, not even looking up from her work.

  “I guess you all are really busy now, trying to get all the new wax models ready for Sunday,” Joe said. “Too bad there wasn’t time to clean up the Medieval Palace.” He continued to occupy the young woman’s attention while Frank looked around the workshop.

  It took Frank only a few minutes to find containers of pearl essence that matched the one he’d found in Jax’s taxidermy shop the night the Molar Mike was stolen. He turned them over. They all had the same V on the bottom that his had. But the V was only part of the symbol. Each of the containers that were in Nick’s quarters had a bird’s head on the bottom, and the V formed the beak.

  After a few more minutes the girl noticed Frank poking around, so Joe quickly wound up their search by saying, “Well, I guess we’d better get the raven over to Nick.”

  Frank took his brother’s cue, and the Hardys left Nick’s quarters and walked over to the Waterloo Block. The building was temporarily closed to tourists while the new exhibit was being assembled. Frank flashed the pass at the guard, and they walked right in.

  Visitors were guided along from room to room through the long building in roped-off aisles. Permanent exhibits explained the history of the Tower of London and the royal families who lived there.

  The last room on the path held glass cases in which the collection of crown jewels was displayed. Elaborate crowns, jewelry, and other ornaments laden with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds sparkled under the special lighting. Scattered around the room, and roped off by velvet cords, sat the new wax models of kings and queens from British history.

>   “Frank, Joe!” Nick’s voice echoed through the large room. “Who’s your friend?” He smiled at the raven under Frank’s arm.

  “Jax finished it,” Joe said. “That’s what he was going to the shop to get last night when he was surprised by the thief and knocked out.”

  “Wow. He told me it wouldn’t be done by Sunday. He’s amazing. It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? It’ll be perfect over here by the little fence in the corner.”

  Nick led them to a small scene he had created. The principal model was a male figure dressed in royal Scottish regalia.

  “How’s Jax doing?” Nick asked. “I’m hoping he’ll feel like helping out tomorrow. I have an assistant who can probably fit the teeth, but it would be better to have the master himself here to do the job.”

  “The doctor said he could do anything he feels like doing,” Joe answered, watching Nick closely. “He’ll probably be okay by tomorrow.”

  “Just put the raven down by that man’s boot, will you, Frank?” Nick requested as he fluffed up a clump of artificial heather. “I’m glad Jax is feeling okay,” he added, without looking away from his task. “I’ll give him a call in the morning and see how he’s feeling.”

  Frank leaned over to drop the raven on the other side of the velvet cord. The wax model had on a richly colored plaid kilt, and a tassel hung from the belt.

  As he leaned back up from the exhibit, taking a closer look at the belt, Frank stopped cold. Connecting the tassel cord to the belt of the kilt was a familiar object: a pewter clasp in the shape of a leaf.

  16 The Beheading

  * * *

  Joe watched Nick closely, trying to get some clue—a gesture, an expression—anything that would indicate that Nick was a thief capable of assaulting someone he pretended was his friend.

  Distracted for a moment, Joe looked at his brother. Frank was leaning over the velvet cord, studying something. He seemed almost frozen to the spot and looked a lot like the wax models placed around the room.

 

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