Daredevils

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Daredevils Page 8

by Franklin W. Dixon


  Terrence never stopped staring at the floor.

  “The rock hit him right in the face,” Terrence said. Frank and Joe could see that there were tears welling up in their friend’s eyes. “Slim Billy fell backward, right onto one of the buried explosive charges just as it detonated. He took shrapnel in his leg and face. It blew off the two fingers from his right hand.”

  The room fell silent for a minute.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Joe said reassuringly.

  “Actually, that’s what the investigation revealed,” Terrence replied. “Turns out that there were twice as many charges planted on that hill as there should have been. It was never discovered who planted the extra explosives, but the prevailing theory was that Thompson had done it himself. All in the name of realism. For a better stunt, the man almost killed us both.”

  Terrence got up from the couch and finished changing into fresh clothes.

  “Still,” he said, “I can’t help feeling I was responsible. Even though Slim Billy has gone out of his way to show that he knows it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Maybe that’s why he called off Daredevil Fest,” Joe said as they left the trailer. “He probably doesn’t want any tragedies happening to the people he feels responsible for.”

  “You’re probably right,” Terrence said. “He could never work as a stuntman again after the accident, but he stayed in the business as a coordinator and consultant. In fact, movies he works on these days have the best safety rating in the industry.”

  Frank looked at the sun as it crawled across the western sky.

  “Let’s catch an early dinner before heading to your house,” he said.

  • • •

  Ninety minutes later the three friends arrived at the McCauley home.

  “Looks like everybody’s here,” Terrence said as they pulled up in front of the house. He pointed at the rental car and his father’s truck. The three young men had the other rental car at their disposal while Terrence’s beloved sports car was being repaired.

  When they got into the house, however, there was nobody there.

  “That’s odd,” Frank said. “Where are the parental units?”

  “Beats me,” Terrence said.

  “Uh, T,” Joe said, “did you buy a new tape player when we weren’t looking?”

  “No,” Terrence replied. “Why?”

  Joe pointed to a small tape recorder on the living room coffee table.

  “I’ve never seen that before,” Terrence said.

  All three cautiously approached the tape player. Taped to the front of the device was a note: Let’s play.

  13 Where Have All the Parents Gone?

  * * *

  “ ‘Let’s play’?” Terrence said. He reached for the Play button on the unfamiliar tape machine. “Maybe my dad’s come up with a new way to make sure I don’t miss his messages.”

  “No! Wait!” Frank screamed. He quickly slapped Terrence’s hand away from the tape machine.

  “What was that for?” Terrence asked, rubbing his wrist.

  “It could be booby-trapped,” Frank said. “We have no idea who put that machine here. I’d say with all that’s gone on lately, it’s better to err on the side of caution.”

  Terrence nodded his head in agreement.

  “I’ll go check out the rest of the house,” Joe said. He headed up the stairs.

  Frank crouched down beside the coffee table to get a closer look at the machine.

  He scanned the device from every angle without actually touching it.

  “I don’t see anything unusual,” he said softly. He then reached into his back pocket and took out his lockpick set. He chose the longest tool in the kit. With the pick, he gently prodded the machine, moving it ever so gently.

  “So far so good,” Terrence said, relieved that nothing had exploded.

  Frank gently picked up the tape player. He turned it over and examined the battery compartment.

  “Four double As,” he said. “No special wires or signs that the machine has been modified.”

  “I guess we should press Play, then,” Joe said as he returned to the living room. “The house is clear. No sign of any forced entry.”

  “Okay, here goes,” Frank said. He put the machine back down and pressed Play.

  An electronically disguised voice emanated from the machine’s tiny speaker.

  “No more games,” the voice said. “I’ve given Terrence a fighting chance to stay alive, but even so, he should be dead by now. And he would be if it wasn’t for the meddling Hardy brothers. You two kids think you’re so good at this? Let’s see how you do with a real challenge. By now you know that your parents aren’t around. That’s because I have them. I wonder if you two can save their lives and still keep me from killing Terrence. You’ll get further instructions by phone at nine P.M. Standard kidnapping rules apply: alert the police and I’ll kill my hostages.”

  The tape machine went silent. Frank pressed the Off button.

  “No options,” Joe said flatly.

  “Not so,” Frank interjected. “We may not be able to pick up anything from the voice on the tape. It could have been male or female for all we know, but we still have some suspects we can check out.”

  “What suspects?” Terrence asked. “Everybody you’ve checked out on this case has an excuse why it isn’t them.”

  “Then we start by checking out everybody again,” Frank stated.

  “No time,” Joe said. “We could call around to each of our suspects, but if we call the actual culprit, he or she might panic and harm our folks.”

  “Well, what do we do?” Terrence asked.

  “We go with our gut and check out our prime suspect in person.”

  “Who would be?” Frank asked.

  “I’m voting on Antonio Lawrence,” Joe said. “I don’t like the guy, and I don’t trust him.”

  “If that’s your best guess,” Frank said, “let’s go for it.”

  “I’ll let you know what I find,” Joe said, heading for the door.

  “No, I’ll let you know,” Frank said, cutting off his brother. “You and Antonio don’t like each other even a little bit. You won’t get anything out of him if there’s a confrontation.”

  Joe had to agree with his brother’s logic. It was decided that Frank would check out their prime suspect, and Joe would keep a watch on Terrence to make sure the kidnapper didn’t try a double-cross by coming back to the house instead of phoning.

  As the hour approached nine Joe began to get worried. “Frank should have been back by now,” he said. “I hope he hasn’t run into any trouble.”

  “Maybe we should go to Antonio’s,” Terrence stated.

  Just then the telephone rang.

  “I guess we’ll know something now anyway,” Joe said. He reached for the phone and hit the speaker button so both of them could hear the instructions.

  “Glad to see you can follow instructions,” came the disguised voice through the telephone’s speaker. “I want the three of you to drive into the hills. There’s a cliff exactly three and seven-tenths miles farther up the hill from where we played bumper cars last week. It’s secluded, so we won’t get interrupted as this all plays out. And don’t take any side trips getting up here. My patience is wearing thin.”

  The line went dead.

  “Well, I get the feeling that our bad guy doesn’t know that Frank isn’t here,” Joe said. “I don’t know if that’s good news or bad news.” Joe picked up a pen from the coffee table and scribbled his brother a note.

  “In any case,” he said as he wrote, “we can’t wait for him to return. We’ll have to do this with just the two of us.”

  “I’m up for it,” Terrence said. “Let me gather some stuff from my room. You go get some rope, flashlights, and whatever else you think we might need from the basement.”

  “Good thinking,” Joe said. He stood up and headed for the basement. “We’ll make a detective out of you yet,” he called.

 
Joe opened the door to the basement and flicked on the light switch. He was only halfway down the stairs when he heard the door slam shut behind him. The distinctive sound of a deadbolt lock being thrown filled the musty silence.

  “What’s going on!” Joe shouted as he ran back up the stairs.

  He grabbed the door handle and gave it a twist.

  “Locked!” he grunted. Joe banged on the door.

  “Terrence!” he shouted. “Terrence, let me out of here.”

  “Sorry, Joe,” came the stuntman’s voice from the other side of the door. “No can do.”

  Joe banged on the door again.

  “What are you up to, Terrence?” he asked.

  “I can’t put you in any more danger,” Terrence replied. “I have to finish this myself.”

  “Come on, T. This is no time to go solo on me.”

  Joe’s shout was greeted by silence.

  “I’m pleading with you here,” Joe continued. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  Again, only silence.

  “T?” Joe yelled. “Oh, man,” Joe said. He slumped to sit on the top stair. “He’s gonna get himself and our parents killed.”

  14 All Locked Up with Someplace to Go

  * * *

  Forty minutes before Joe found himself locked in the McCauleys’ basement, Frank arrived at Antonio Lawrence’s home. He parked his car down the block from the house and quietly approached the building on foot.

  Frank used a row of hedges that divided Antonio’s lawn from that of the neighbors to hide his approach. Certain that he could not be seen by anybody who might be inside Antonio’s place, Frank made his way on all fours to a large bush just outside Antonio’s living room window. He cautiously peeked through the window. The lights were off, and with the sun now beyond the western horizon, Frank was left with little illumination.

  Just then Frank was grabbed from behind. A set of powerful arms had him in a full nelson, and Frank was pulled to his feet.

  “What . . . uh . . . ow,” Frank grunted as he struggled with his unknown assailant. Frank felt his head being pushed into his chest by the force of the wrestling hold. With practiced smoothness, the older Hardy brother shifted his weight, moved his hip into the body of his attacker, and flipped the man over his shoulder and down to the ground.

  Whoever Frank’s attacker was, the person was a very skilled fighter. Before Frank could focus his eyes to see his assailant, the figure on the ground kicked out with both legs and tripped Frank. A powerful punch then struck Frank on the back.

  Sensing another blow was on its way, Frank rolled away from his attacker and sprang to his feet. His opponent also sprang to his feet and threw a punch straight at Frank’s face. Just then Frank made out who his attacker was.

  “Enough!” Frank shouted, and blocked the incoming punch. With one fluid motion, Frank turned the block into a wristlock. He twisted, applying enough pressure to force his attacker to his knees.

  “I have the advantage now, Antonio,” Frank huffed tiredly.

  “Hardy?” Uncertainty echoed in Antonio’s voice.

  “Yeah,” Frank replied. “Wait, you didn’t know it was me when you grabbed me?” Frank eased the pressure on the stuntman’s wrist enough so he could get to his feet.

  “No,” Antonio replied. “I was stretching after my evening run, and I saw somebody snooping around my house. With all the weird stuff that’s been going down lately, I thought maybe somebody was after me.”

  “You mean, you saw me and thought it was somebody out to get you? I came here thinking you were the one who was trying to harm Terrence.”

  “For the last time, I am not trying to kill Terrence. Yeah, I want to be top stuntman, but not enough to hurt somebody. That’s why I attacked you. I’m beginning to think somebody hates all stuntmen, and I may be the next target.”

  Frank released his hold on Antonio’s wrist.

  “Man, that leaves us at square one,” Frank said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Frank said, “that now we have no idea who’s after Terrence. I can assure you that you are not a target. Whoever wants T dead is definitely doing it for personal reasons.”

  “Well, I hope you find the guy,” Antonio offered. “I may not like the dude, but with Terrence around, I know I always have to be on top of my game.”

  Antonio held out his hand to Frank. “Just do me a favor,” he said. “Terrence is competition enough for me. When this is done, could you and your brother move back to wherever it is you came from? With the way you fight and your brother drives, you’d probably have me and T both flipping burgers while you two carve up all the stunt work.”

  Frank shook Antonio’s hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Joe and I would probably find stunt work too tame compared to what we usually go through, but thanks for the good word.”

  Frank turned to leave.

  “Good luck,” Antonio called. “I hope you take this villain down.”

  • • •

  It was just after nine when Frank returned to the McCauley house. The first thing he noticed was that Brian McCauley’s truck was gone.

  Joe and Terrence must have already gotten the call and left, he realized. Frank ran into the house, hoping they’d left a note.

  Immediately Frank’s attention was grabbed by the sound of his brother’s shouting.

  “Hello! Frank! Is that you?” came Joe’s voice.

  “Joe?” Frank shouted. He followed Joe’s voice to the basement door and unlocked it. Joe came shooting into the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” Frank asked.

  “We got the call,” Joe replied. “I went into the basement to get some supplies. Terrence locked me in.”

  “Terrence locked you in! Why did he do that?”

  “He said he didn’t want to put anybody else in danger,” Joe answered. “He said he wants to finish this himself. I pleaded with him to let me out, but to tell you the truth, I don’t think he heard a word I said.”

  “Any idea where he went?” Frank asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Joe replied, “I know where he went. And I know who he’s going to find when he gets there.”

  15 One Last Stunt

  * * *

  “If you figure on finding Antonio Lawrence there,” Frank said, “then you figure wrong. I just tangled with him, and I’m convinced he’s innocent.”

  “Innocent,” Joe said. “That I don’t know about. But I do know he’s not the one trying to kill Terrence. That honor goes to William ‘Slim Billy’ Thompson.”

  “Slim Billy!” Frank was shocked. “How do you figure that?”

  “Some clues, some hunches,” Joe said, “but I’m sure I’m right. I figure he has motive: the accident during filming on The Bridges of Rodriguez Ridge. Opportunity for sure: he’s the safety consultant for Daredevil Fest, so he’s had full access to the events. Plus I’m certain he was the pilot for the skydiving event. Terrence handed him his parachute pack. Thompson could have slit the harness while he was helping T into the pack. The skill factor is a no-brainer: he’s handy with explosives, and besides being a stuntman, he was also a stunt designer, stunt coordinator, and probably a technical expert.”

  “So, where do we find Slim Billy?” Frank asked.

  “That’s the final clue,” Joe replied. He described the cliff where they were to meet Thompson. “Tie this location back to the scene where his career was ended, and it says William Thompson all over it. Cliffs hold a special place in the relationship between Terrence and Thompson.”

  “Good work,” Frank said. “But at this point, knowing who our opponent is does little to bring this to a close. He’s got hostages, he’s probably got Terrence by now, and he’s had a whole lot of time to prepare whatever trap he’s going to spring on us. This has gone from being a mystery to being a rescue operation.”

  “Then let’s get prepared,” Joe stated flatly. He jogged down the stairs to the basement. When he came back into the kitchen he was holding
a long coil of rope, a grappling hook, and a lantern.

  “Put these in the car,” Joe said as he handed the equipment to his brother. “I’ve got to get one more thing.”

  When Joe got into the car, Frank was examining a map.

  “What did you just toss in the trunk?” Frank asked.

  “A little surprise,” Joe replied with a grin.

  “I figure we should take a different approach to the cliffs,” Frank said as he traced his finger along the map. “Maybe cut down Slim Billy’s advantage a bit by reaching the spot unexpectedly.”

  Joe took the map from his brother so Frank could start the car. “Good thinking,” he said. “At this point, any little thing that shifts the initiative away from Thompson may give us the room we need to bring him down.”

  Frank put the car into gear. “Just remember, the stakes here are high,” he said. “This lunatic has our parents and may have our friend. Don’t get reckless, but if you see an opportunity to take him out, there’s no need to be gentle.”

  “Trust me, making nice with this guy is not in the program,” Joe said.

  Twenty minutes later Frank eased the car to a stop on a deserted dirt road at the base of the Hollywood Hills.

  “The way I figure it,” he said to Joe, “the spot where he wants us to meet is a ten-minute walk.”

  “Yeah, except he’ll be at the top of the cliff and we’ll be at the bottom.”

  “If I remember correctly, the hills aren’t that high at the spot he wants us to meet him. Plus, we won’t both be at the base of the cliff if you stick to the plan.”

  “I’ll be in position,” Joe assured his brother. “You just keep him focused on you.”

  The two brothers split up. Frank walked along the base of the cliff while Joe made his way up the rocks to the top. It was rough going for Joe. He was holding a large box, and Frank had purposely kept the rope and grappling hook. For their plan to work, it would be a matter of both precise timing and well-honed skill.

  Frank walked for ten minutes through the darkness. He had considered using a flashlight, but decided that every step he got closer to Slim Billy without alerting the man would be precious.

 

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