The Crowning Terror

by Franklin W. Dixon

  He moved over to Hunt and patted him down. When his hand hit the mike, his face grew dark, and he tore open Hugh's shirt and ripped the microphone from his chest. It fell to the pavement, and he ground it under his heel.

  "Enough tricks. Where's the crown?" he demanded.

  Somberly, Hugh pulled the crown from his pocket and handed it to Starkey.

  "Where's your brother?" Starkey asked Joe.

  Joe shook his head. "I don't know."

  "It doesn't matter. We'll deal with him later," Starkey said. He opened the limo door. "In."

  As he and his uncle climbed into the limousine, Joe glanced down the street, looking for Frank and the other car. If he sees us, Joe thought, we've still got a chance.

  "Don't even think it," Starkey said, noticing the hope on Joe's face. "Your chances are all used up."

  He slammed the door. Then clenching his hand around the crown and grinning triumphantly, he got into the front seat, and the limousine drove off.

  Chapter 17

  The Embarcadero stretched along the waterfront of San Francisco, from Fisherman's Wharf to the Oakland Bay Bridge. It was a neighborhood filled with docks and warehouses. A particularly seedy warehouse was the limousine's destination. Two men appeared from the shadows to slam the warehouse doors shut after the limo was safely inside.

  Mickey got out of the car, opened the back door, and escorted Joe and Hugh Hunt out. To Joe, the warehouse looked immense, although he did know the shadows of the crates made it appear larger than it was.

  "The Carlyle Museum's warehouse," Hugh said with a note of grudging admiration. "I figured you'd be using it, too."

  "You've been out of the business quite a while, Hunt. How is it you know so much about my operation?" Starkey asked as he, too, stepped out of the limousine. Feodor and Oleg followed him.

  "You mean you don't know?" Joe blurted out in amazement.

  Starkey's eyes narrowed. "Know what?"

  Joe wanted to kick himself, but he saw he had snagged Starkey's curiosity, and he could use that to keep himself and his uncle alive, at least for a few more minutes. "Nothing," he said. "What I want to know is why you picked on my uncle."

  "I had my reasons," Starkey said, smirking. "Now that you're not wired, I suppose there's no reason to keep it from you. I picked him because he's Hugh Hunt."

  "That's not much of a reason," Joe said, all at once wondering why Starkey hadn't bothered to tie them up. But then, scanning the warehouse, the reason was obvious. He counted ten armed men in addition to Starkey, Mickey, and the two fake Russians.

  "You've never had to live with it!" Starkey angrily exploded. "The man's a living legend in espionage. His shadow hung over us the whole time I was in training and in the field. 'This is how Hugh Hunt would have handled it,' they'd say. 'That's how Hugh Hunt would have handled that.' Well, look at him now. I've handled you, Hunt, I've killed your reputation and I'll take your life, and I'll finally wipe out your shadow for good."

  "Jealousy," Hunt said in an unconcerned voice that made Starkey's eyes flare with rage. "You had a good little scam going here, Starkey. All you had to do was get that crown out of the country, and no one would have been the wiser. Why risk such a cozy setup just to get me?"

  "You? You're nothing," Starkey replied. "I did it to save me. Espionage Resources is being investigated. I couldn't afford to get caught with the crown, and it wasn't time to get it out of the country."

  "So you disguised your cronies," Hugh said, pointing at Feodor and Oleg, "as Russians, and made it look as if I'm working for them. I steal the crown, you catch me, and you kill me for resisting, right?"

  Slowly Starkey nodded.

  "Then you get the fiber optic wire back, you're a big hero because you smashed a smuggling ring, and I'm a clay hero who turned rotten."

  "That's how it would have gone down, if it hadn't been for him and his brother," Starkey said, glaring at Joe. "But I can still pull it off. I've got tapes of your little friends linking you with the Russians."

  "But there aren't any Russians!" Joe objected.

  "There are people in Washington who think there are Russians everywhere," said Starkey.

  "But it still won't work," Hugh said. "What about your clients? They might get a little cross about not getting their merchandise."

  "The crown can be lost during the arrest," Starkey said with a shrug. "Your body will be enough to take the heat off me. I'll just lie low for a while, and then it can be business as usual."

  "Except for one thing," said Hunt. "I still have some friends in the espionage community, and they're on to you. They hired a special investigator." He sat casually on a crate. "Know who they sent to get the goods on you, Starkey?"

  "Do tell," Starkey said. His eyes were twinkling because he thought Hugh was bluffing. "Who?"

  "Me."

  Starkey's eyes widened slowly, filled with despair. His lips opened and closed, but only a soft moan came out.

  Joe peered into the shadows. Now his uncle had angered Starkey too much. The government agent had no reason now to keep them alive. Somewhere, he knew, there must be a way out. But everywhere he looked, armed figures loomed in the darkness, on the floor and even on the catwalks.

  He blinked. At the back of the warehouse, one of the figures suddenly fell over. When the figure stood up, it was shorter and thinner than before. Slowly it grew larger, and Joe realized it was moving toward the front of the warehouse. But then he got distracted.

  Starkey started screaming obscenities at the top of his voice. Mickey stared at his boss with horror. Starkey screamed until his throat would take no more. Then he just stood still, shaking, his face red with rage. "Mr. Starkey!" Mickey cried. "What does it matter?"

  "It's no good," Starkey said as if he were explaining something to an idiot. "They sent him, don't you see? If we kill him, they'll swarm all over us. They won't buy a frame, not for a minute." Rubbing his forefinger back and forth across his mouth, he began pacing.

  Joe watched the shadowy figure glide through the darkness, approaching another of Starkey's guards. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a buzzing, but paid no attention to it.

  "I've got nothing to lose now," Starkey said, stopping in front of Hunt, whose breathing had become extremely labored. "They'll come after me sooner or later. But in the meantime, I'm going to have the pleasure of watching you die."

  Hugh coughed. "It's going to be a long wait. I'm not due until tomorrow night."

  Starkey roared with laughter. "I've been one step ahead of you all through this game. I knew you'd steal the crown ahead of time, so I had my men tell you the poison worked in about three days."

  He smiled grimly. "It really works in a little more than two. You've got approximately a half hour."

  "No!" Joe cried. He lunged at Starkey. A pistol butt cracked down on his skull, and he fell and rolled. He lay on the warehouse floor, staring up the barrel of Feodor's gun. The buzz grew into a dull rumble.

  Starkey fished a small vial from his coat and held it up to the light bulb that dangled from the rafters. "You want this, Hunt? It's the antidote. I want you to die knowing your cure was six feet away, and you couldn't get to it."

  Hugh staggered off the crate and swung at Starkey, who easily backed away. The older man sank weakly to his knees, and his hands dragged on the floor.

  Taunting him, Starkey dangled the antidote. "You'll never taste it," he said. "Never."

  "Yes, he will," said a voice from the back of the warehouse. Frank Hardy stepped out of the darkness, and, with the click of a safety being switched off, lowered an automatic rifle at Starkey.

  "You really are sloppy, Starkey," Frank said. "A child could have followed your car. You should drive something nondescript."

  "Maybe I wanted you to follow me," Starkey said. "I knew you were out there somewhere, and now I have all the 'loose ends' together."

  Frank smiled. "But I have the gun."

  "Ah," said Starkey. "But I've got you outnumbered." Frank flic
ked his eyes from side to side. A dozen guns were aimed at him. Starkey raised a hand and pressed his thumb and middle finger together. "All I have to do is snap my fingers, and you're history. I'll give you to the count of three."

  Frank stared at him and didn't lower the gun.

  "One," Starkey said.

  Frank said nothing. The rumble sounded like thunder now.

  "Two."

  Why doesn't he drop it? Joe wondered. He knows there's no chance. But his brother stood firm. The rumble became a roar.

  "Three!" Starkey shouted, and fingers throughout the warehouse tightened on triggers.

  A dozen motorcycles crashed through the warehouse doors. The black-leather-clad riders 'were Chinese.

  It was Charity's gang, led by Tony.

  Joe kicked his foot out, catching Feodor in the ankle. As Starkey's man cried out in pain, Joe's hand shot to his wrist, catching it and tugging Feodor forward. Feodor dropped as Joe's fist hammered into his jaw. He collapsed in a lump.

  The cycles roared around Starkey's agents, the riders swinging tire chains into the startled gunmen, who fired without taking aim. Frank swung his elbow up and brought it back hard into Mickey's stomach. Stunned, Mickey flailed out, and Frank stepped into the swing and grabbed Mickey's hand and elbow.

  Continuing the spin, Frank brought his shoulder up into Mickey's chest and jerked forward. Mickey flew over Frank and crashed to a halt on Oleg. Frank took a karate stance and prepared for a counterattack, but neither man stirred.

  "Frank!" Joe shouted over the din. "Where did the cycle hoods come from?"

  "I took a moment to call Charity," Frank shouted back. "Remember when I threatened to call the police? I noticed her number on the phone then. I thought she might want to know where the real crown might be. Just a little bit of insurance I cooked up." He gazed at the melee. In the midst of it, Hugh was curled up on the floor, breathing hard and clutching at his stomach. Starkey was nowhere to be seen. In the chaos he had slipped away.

  Joe gazed around as he knocked aside a man who charged at him. "I get the feeling someone's missing here, Frank. You seen Starkey around in the last couple minutes?"

  "There he is!" Frank pointed at a figure sprinting to the back of the warehouse. Starkey came to a door, threw open a bolt, and dashed out.

  The Hardys followed him outside. Behind the warehouse was a small pier, and at the end of the pier a motorboat was moored. Starkey was halfway down the pier.

  "Freeze, Starkey!" Frank called out. To his surprise, Starkey stopped dead in his tracks. Turning to face Frank and Joe, Starkey spread his arms all the way out to the sides.

  "You got me," he said. "And I've got you." In his right hand was the antidote, and he held it out over the water.

  "Either I get in that boat and you let me get away," Starkey said, "or the antidote goes into the bay, and you never find it." He smirked confidently. "Well? Me or your uncle's life, which is it going to be?"

  Chapter 18

  "I'll take that bottle," said Charity. She rose up the ladder from the boat and stepped onto the pier behind Starkey.

  Shrieking, Starkey stepped back and spun around, striking Charity with his fist, knocking her off balance before she could get her footing. Her feet twisted beneath her, and she toppled off the pier.

  "I've had enough," Joe grumbled and hurled himself at Starkey.

  "No!" shouted Frank, but it was too late. Joe smashed into Starkey with a flying body tackle. Starkey kicked out, shoving Joe aside. But Joe grabbed his leg as he tried to crawl to his feet. Starkey hammered at Joe's head and shoulders.

  Joe slammed his fist into Starkey's stomach. Gasping for breath, Starkey fell away, and Joe flipped forward, pinning Starkey to the pier.

  Though Starkey bucked, Joe held him down. Slowly Joe's fingers crawled along his arm, reaching for the vial in Starkey's hand.

  "We've got him," said Frank, standing over them. He reached for the vial. Too late he saw the malice in Starkey's eyes.

  Starkey dropped the vial and tapped it hard with his finger before Joe or Frank could stop him. The vial rolled down the pier. Frank leaped to grab it.

  Before his fingers could close around it, the vial vanished off the end of the pier and plunged into the water.

  Angrily, Joe socked Starkey on the jaw to knock him out. The secret agent went limp and still. Under other circumstances, Starkey's defeat would have cheered Joe, but now he only felt despair as he rolled off Starkey and sat on the pier.

  "He beat us," he said. "We'll never save Uncle Hugh now."

  Frank sat next to him and searched for something to say, but there was nothing to be said. The antidote was gone, and they had lost.

  "What am I bid for this?" said a woman's voice from below, and the Hardys' mouths fell open in astonishment as Charity came back up the ladder. In her hand was the vial. "Some fool threw it in the water. It's just lucky I happened to be down there to grab it."

  "I'll take that now," said Frank. He reached out, but Charity snatched the vial from his grasp.

  "Not so fast," she said. "I want the crown."

  Frank shrugged and waved a thumb at Starkey. "It's in his pocket, but it won't do you any good. I don't think even you could get it to his customers, and there's no other way to make money from it."

  "And I don't want to," Charity said. "I've got too much good taste to take part in spying." She motioned for them to move back. "That doesn't mean I plan to work with you. Away from him, or the vial goes overboard for real." They backed off. She stooped over Starkey and pulled his wallet from his pocket. "This ought to take care of my expenses. May I?"

  "We need the antidote," Joe said. "Please."

  "Tell you what. I'll trade you for the real crown. Where is it?"

  "He had it," Frank said, nodding in Starkey's direction. "We don't know where it is."

  Charity shrugged. "Too bad."

  "Please," Joe pleaded. "You like scaring people, but I don't think you're a killer. There's a dying man in that warehouse, and what you hold in your hand is the only thing that can save his life. You've got to help."

  "You're not conning me, are you?" she said. For a moment she seemed to soften. "Can I have the boat? I don't want to be around when Kwan and Tony find out I can't pay them."

  "Take anything you want," Joe said. "Just give us the vial."

  Charity stepped forward and pressed the vial into Joe's hand. As she brushed by him, she kissed him lightly on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "If you ever need a partner in crime..."

  Joe blushed. "I'D let you know," he said as she climbed in the boat and sped off across San Francisco Bay.

  The next morning Frank and Joe entered the San Francisco offices of Transmutual Indemnity. Though it was still early, a team of government agents was clearing out the files and removing the furniture. The offices were being closed down, as was Espionage Resources. All that remained was for their uncle Hugh to clear out Starkey's private safe.

  "Come in here, boys," he called from the inner office. He looked healthy again, though his hands still twitched and would until he was fully recovered from the poison. "I figured you'd want to be in on this. You did good work last night."

  "Thanks," Frank said. "We're just glad you're okay."

  "Thanks to you. That was some stunt you pulled, dragging in a street gang for a rumble. Just the sort of thinking we like to see in the business. Sure you don't want a job?"

  Frank and Joe both shook their heads. Joe asked, "You're not going to tell our mom and dad about all this, are you?"

  "You know I can't, Joe. This is a top-security operation. Strictly hush-hush stuff." His uncle flashed him a conspiratorial wink. "So you'd better not tell them, either."

  "You can count on that," Joe said. "What's going to happen to Starkey?" he asked.

  At the sound of Starkey's name, Hugh became grim. "I'm not sure. If I had gotten his confession on tape, his fate would be a lot more certain. As it is, we may have to settle for shutting down his operation
."

  "Speaking of which, in all the excitement last night, I forgot to give this back to you," Joe said. He pulled his hand from his pocket and opened it to reveal his uncle's tiny tape recorder. "If the built-in microphone is any good, you should find it quite interesting. I had it on the whole time Starkey was taunting us last night."

  Hugh Hunt's eyes brightened. "Joe, you're beautiful. Between that and his files, we've got enough to put Starkey away for a long time. You'll never guess who he was selling to."

  "I thought it was the Russians," Frank said. "Or the Chinese."

  "Not according to his records," his uncle revealed. "His clients were electronics manufacturers in Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and Malaysia. We develop the technology, they steal it, manufacture it cheaply, and sell the products here at prices we can't match. A neat little racket."

  They moved across the room to a framed Rembrandt print, and Hugh moved it aside. A safe was imbedded in the wall behind it. "Starkey slipped up a little during questioning and told us where the art he stole was. We'll have the real crown back as soon as I get this wall safe open."

  He spun the dial on the safe to the right, then to the left, then to the right again. "My hands are still a little shaky," he said. "Would one of you like to do the honors?"

  Joe stepped forward and pressed down the safe handle. Dreaming of riches, he pulled open the door and stared inside.

  He began to laugh.

  "What's so funny?" Frank asked. He pushed past his brother and reached into the safe. The only contents were Starkey's wallet and a printed card.

  "It's for us," Joe said. He took the card from Frank and held it up for his uncle to read: Better Luck Next Time Love and Kisses, Charity "The woman?" Hugh asked.

  "You got it," Joe said. With reluctant admiration, he sighed. "She pulled one last fast one on us. I hope we never run into her again."

  But he had the feeling they would.