Highway Robbery

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Highway Robbery Page 2

by Franklin W. Dixon


  Tony slowly climbed into the backseat. His face had gone pale, and he looked even worse than he had after they'd found the body.

  "Tony?" Frank asked. "What's the matter? You look real shook up."

  Tony didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said softly, "It's - my cousin Mike."

  "What's the problem?" asked Joe, worried.

  "He was driving a truckload of Ultratech components and a bunch of goons forced him to stop. When Mike realized that they were going to hijack his goods, he tried to fight them off. They beat him up - bad. He's in the hospital."

  Chapter 3

  "I want to get over there right away," Tony said anxiously.

  "Sure." Joe started up the van. "We'll take you there right now."

  Forty-five minutes later they arrived at the hospital and were directed to a room on the seventh floor.

  Tony's cousin Mike Simone was a muscular man in his thirties, but lying in the hospital bed he appeared to be fragile. Some curls of black hair stuck out from the bandages wrapped around his head. His left arm was in a cast, and his face was swollen and bruised. In addition to his visible injuries, Mike had a cracked rib.

  The boys noticed, though, that the look in Mike's eyes wasn't so much one of pain as it was of anger.

  "If it had been two guys, I would've taken them," Mike muttered. "But four was too many.'

  "How long will you be laid up?" Tony asked. He sat in a chair beside his cousin, while Joe and Frank leaned against a window sill.

  "I may be out of here as early as the day after tomorrow once they're sure my head's okay." Mike sagged back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "But I don't know when I'll be able to drive a rig again. This arm won't be much good for maybe two months."

  "How'd it happen, anyway?" Joe asked. "If you don't mind talking about it."

  "No, I don't mind," said Mike. "I had just left Bayport, heading north. There's a shortcut I always use between two interstates, kind of a deserted stretch of road. About halfway along this, I see these traffic barriers and flashing lights. A guy was standing there in one of those orange vests, waving a red flag.

  "I figure there's some kind of accident up ahead, so I pull over. Three guys in ski masks with blackjacks or clubs or something jump up on the cab and yank both doors open. Then the guy in the vest drops his flag and pulls a mask down over his face."

  At the mention of ski masks, Frank and Joe exchanged a look. Mike went on.

  "I had a baseball bat under the seat, and I grabbed it and tried to belt one of them, but they pulled me down from the cab and - the last thing I remember was getting something real hard bounced off my skull. A woman driving a car found me lying on the road a little while later. The truck was gone."

  "You could have been killed, Mike!" Tony stood up and stared down at his cousin. "Why go up against four guys like that? For what? A bunch of electronics?"

  Mike nodded and sighed. "I won't argue, kid. I was stupid. But - see, there's things going on here that you don't understand."

  "Like what?"

  Mike was silent. He glanced at Frank and Joe.

  Quickly Frank suggested, "Tony, why don't we wait outside for you?"

  "No, wait, Frank," Tony said. "Mike, these are my buddies, and I trust them. I guarantee anything you say will be kept confidential."

  Mike thought a moment and then said, "Okay, Tony, if you say so. Pop probably won't like me talking, but - this is just between us, right?"

  "You got it," Joe said.

  "All right. My dad owns this shipping outfit, Lombard Hauling. We're just a family company with a small list of clients we transport goods for. Our biggest client is Ultratech Electronics."

  "And their shipment got taken today," said Frank.

  "The thing is," said Mike, "this isn't the first Ultratech shipment to be hijacked. It's the third."

  "The third!" echoed Tony with disbelief. "How come you haven't said anything - "

  Mike held up his good hand. "Tony, if it was up to me, this wouldn't be news to you now. But Pop has played it real close for some reason. The company is really hurting, Tony. I'm scared that we could lose Ultratech as a client, and our insurance, too. And then Lombard Hauling would be out of business."

  "What did the police say?" asked Frank.

  Tony bit his lip. "We reported the first hijacking so we could get the insurance money for Ultratech. But Pop wouldn't go to the sheriff last time, and he won't go this time, either. When he was here earlier we had a big argument about it. He just won't go, and he won't say why, either. I tried to convince him, but - "

  "That's crazy!" Tony burst out. "Uncle Matt can't - "

  "Hold it, Tony," said Frank. "Mike, how do you think your father would feel about bringing in private investigators?"

  "The kind of people who know how to find things out, and keep their mouths shut," added Joe.

  "I don't know," Mike said, shaking his head. "Why? You have some in mind?"

  "We do, actually," Frank said. "Our father, Fenton Hardy, is one of the best private operatives there is - "

  "The thing is," said Mike, "we're sort of strapped for cash right now."

  "Well, we have a kind of family business, too, and my dad wouldn't press you," Joe said. "Frank and I are sort of junior partners."

  "Hold on a minute," Mike interrupted. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but this hijacking business is no game." He pointed to his bandaged head. "They play rough."

  "No, really, Mike," said Tony. "Frank and Joe are for real. They've gotten into some heavy scenes, and they can take care of themselves."

  "We're good at finding things out," Frank added with a smile.

  Mike stared at the Hardys. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Could you figure out some way of setting us up with jobs at Lombard, as a cover?" Frank asked. "At least we could look around."

  "It couldn't do any harm," added Joe.

  Mike nodded. "Let me call Pop," he said. "He had to go back to the office. He's probably still there."

  The phone conversation was short, and Mike didn't do much of the talking. When he hung up, he seemed to be shaken and disturbed.

  "What's up?" Tony asked.

  "Ultratech gave Pop a rough time," Mike replied. "They said they're thinking of finding another trucking company, one that does a better job of keeping its shipments safe. And then, he said, the law just paid him a little visit."

  "I thought you said the sheriff's office didn't know about the hijacking," Joe said.

  "No, this was about something else. They found a body around five o'clock today, a guy who'd been murdered, somewhere near Bayport."

  Tony was about to tell Mike about their experience at the warehouse, but he caught a warning look from Frank and kept quiet.

  "What does the body have to do with Lombard Hauling?" Joe asked.

  "The cops said the guy was a small-time gangster named Mickey Vane. He had a fairly long record. Well, he once worked for Lombard as a driver. Pop told the deputy that he didn't know anything about his record, but the deputy didn't seem to believe him. And Pop says the deputy's on his way over here to question me." Mike let out a sigh, then added, "Oh, he did say he'd talk to Frank and Joe about this investigation tomorrow morning at the office."

  "What can you tell the law?" asked Tony.

  "Me? Nothing," Mike said. "But it sounds like this cop who questioned Pop is a rough customer. He all but said that he suspected Pop of being mixed up with this Vane guy in some kind of dirty business. Pop almost threw him out of the office."

  "Mike," said Frank. "You said that these hi jackers stopped you on a pretty deserted road that you used as a shortcut, right?"

  "Right. Driving a rig, you're always trying to save a little time and gas."

  "The thing is," Frank went on, "if this was a shortcut, how many people could have known you'd be there?"

  Mike gave Frank a troubled look. "You mean, is there somebody inside the company that's part of this gang? Yeah, I've thought th
e same thing. Maybe that's why Pop didn't want the police involved. Maybe he's scared that there's a crook at Lombard, and that it might even be one of the family."

  "Impossible," said Tony flatly.

  "Well, even the other employees are like family to Pop. If someone there is bent, he'd handle it quietly, without - "

  There was a knock at the door, and a nurse entered, looking flustered.

  "Mr. Simone, there's a - an officer here who insists on talking to you right now. I told him that you were resting, but he said - "

  A brusque voice interrupted the nurse. "I said I didn't have time to waste. He'll talk to me, and talk right now."

  A tall man in a khaki uniform brushed past the outraged nurse, and for the second time that day Tony and the Hardys found themselves looking into the hard eyes of Chief Deputy MacReedy.

  Joe felt anger rise in him as he watched the officer's eyes narrow.

  "You three again," MacReedy said, his lips compressing into a thin line. "The way I keep tripping over you, you boys are bound to end up in a jail cell!"

  Chapter 4

  "All right," said MacReedy, "let's hear your story this time. What are you boys shopping for at the hospital?"

  "Just paying a get-well call on Tony's cousin," Frank said quickly.

  "That's right, Chief Deputy," Joe added. "We're cheering him up with our presence."

  "Well, boys, your presence doesn't work that way on me," MacReedy answered curtly. "I've had my fill of you. Visiting hours are over, so you three beat it while Mr. Simone and I talk."

  "I have nothing to tell you," Mike said.

  "Oh, you'd be surprised what you know," purred MacReedy. He glanced back at Frank and Joe and Tony. "You still here? I told you to move. Now do it."

  "Take it easy, Mike," said Tony. He filed out of the room behind the Hardys.

  Back in the van, Tony asked, "Why didn't you want me to tell Mike about finding that body?"

  "Just being careful," said Frank.

  Tony sounded insulted. "Hey, you think my cousin Mike is a crook?"

  "Take it easy, Tony. We don't think anything like that," Joe assured him. "When we're working on a case, we like to keep information on a need-to-know basis. We trust Mike, but we don't know who he might talk to, or who they might talk to. See what I mean?"

  "It's habit," Frank went on. "It keeps our cases more contained. Less chance for leaks."

  "Well, all right, if you say so," Tony agreed.

  Frank and Joe dropped Tony off at his house. Before driving away, they arranged to pick him up the next morning so he could introduce them to his uncle Matt.

  Back at their house Frank and Joe found their father in his office, and they started to fill him in on their day. When they mentioned Chief Deputy MacReedy, Fenton narrowed his eyes.

  "MacReedy?" he asked. "Kind of a rangy fellow with a bad temper?"

  "That sounds like him," said Joe. "You two ever have a run-in of any kind?"

  Fenton nodded. "When I first started in business here, I was hired to work on a fraud case. MacReedy was investigating it for the sheriff's office. He seemed like a good man, but a little too - in those days we called him too gung-ho. You felt he might get carried away in a situation, forget about procedure, cut a corner - that kind of thing.

  "Well, he made an arrest," Fenton went on, "but he tampered with some evidence in order to nail it down tight, so he lost the perpetrator and went up on charges. Somehow he got it into his head that I was responsible, and ever since he's held it against me."

  "That's a long time to hold a grudge," Frank commented.

  Fenton leaned forward. "You don't want to get on his bad side. But since he knows you're my sons, you're already there. Steer clear of him as much as possible, boys."

  "We'll try," Joe told their father. "But it looks like what he's working on connects with our investigation."

  "Are you sure?" asked Fenton.

  Frank nodded. "First, the dead man once worked for Lombard Hauling. Second, the hot goods that were being sold at that warehouse were made by Ultratech, and that's what has been hijacked." As he spoke he counted off the points on his fingers.

  "By the way, Dad, could you look into a couple of things for us?" Joe asked.

  "If I can. What do you need?"

  "We need to know the record of this Mickey Vane - he's the one who got killed today."

  "It'd be good to find out who owns the warehouse where they were selling the stolen electronics, too," said Frank. "And who was renting it and for how long."

  They gave Fenton the address. As they were about to leave his office, he called out, "Frank? Joe? I know that you know how to watch out for yourselves, but you should really stay away from Lamar MacReedy." Fenton sounded casual, but Frank and Joe knew that he was concerned. "He'd be happy to have any excuse to get at you, if only to get back at me."

  "We'll keep our heads down, Dad," replied Joe.

  ***

  The next morning Frank, Joe, and Tony drove over to Lombard Hauling. Joe pulled the van in through the open gate and parked next to a medium-size garage with a loading dock on one side. A few small buildings were attached to the rear of the garage. Probably offices, Joe decided. Near the loading dock he saw a couple of mechanics working on tall, boxy truck cabs. A few trailers with Lombard painted on the sides in red stood empty, ready to receive the next loads. The place smelled familiar to Joe - gasoline, oil, and grease - all blended.

  Tony led them past the garage to an outdoor entrance to the first building. Just as he raised his hand to knock, an angry voice pierced through the closed door and stopped him.

  "You'll be hearing from us again, and you won't like it!" The door swung open and a middle-aged man in a lime green sports jacket and open-necked shirt stalked out. He was balding and stocky, with a pug nose and an angry flush on his face. He shoved between Frank and Joe and marched off.

  "Uncle Matt?" called Tony.

  "Come on in." Frank and Joe followed Tony inside to an office, where a tall, powerful-looking man was standing behind a desk. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, showing muscular arms. He looked like an older version of Mike, with close-trimmed frizzy white hair.

  Frank checked out the office curiously. It wasn't exactly a plush office. The scarred wooden desk was stacked high with papers and folders that almost hid the phone. Maps tacked to the walls had routes drawn across them in felt-tip pen. The only other wall decoration was a calendar with a color photograph of a flashy customized truck.

  "Who was that?" Tony asked his uncle.

  "Aah." Matt waved a hand in disgust. "Lou Gerard. The union's new business agent for the local our people belong to. Forget about him."

  He looked curiously at the Hardys.

  Tony quickly jumped in. "Uncle Matt, this is Frank and Joe Hardy, the ones Mike told you about last night."

  Matt sat back in his desk chair, his eyes still on Frank and Joe. "When Mike said something about detectives, he didn't mention you were kids. I don't know - "

  "Uncle Matt," Tony said, "trust me. These two really get around. They may be young, but they aren't helpless. Go ahead, give them a try."

  Matt shrugged. "How old are you two?"

  "I'm eighteen," Frank answered, "and Joe is seventeen."

  "Okay. Joe, legally you have to be eighteen to even start learning big rigs. I guess we can say you're an apprentice mechanic. Frank, you're too young to actually drive a rig, but you can be a driver's helper. You'll work with Pat Mulvaney, our top driver, until Mike gets back."

  There was a knock at Matt's door, and a second later a man came in with a sheaf of papers. He had sandy hair and freckles, and several pens stuck out of a plastic pocket protector in his shirt.

  "Frank, Joe, this is Felix Kinney," said Matt. "Frank and Joe are starting to work here, Felix. Felix is our numbers man - in charge of billing, schedules, bookkeeping."

  Felix smiled and then said softly, "What there is of it these days, what with - "

&nbs
p; "All right, Felix," Matt cut in gruffly. "Leave the papers and get back to work. And ask Pat to come in here."

  After Felix had gone, Matt tilted his chair back against the wall behind him. "All right. What can I tell you?"

  "Just fill us in on what's been going down," said Joe.

  Matt nodded. "There have been three hijackings, all of Ultratech equipment. Every time the truck was completely cleaned out. On the first heist, I brought in the sheriff and my insurance paid Ultratech for the loss. The second time I was worried about how my insurance people would react, so I kept quiet and paid for the loss myself."

  "What about this one?" Frank asked.

  Matt sighed and shook his head. "I'll be able to cover this one, too - barely. But if there's another one - I don't know. It would just finish us. Some of my men are already talking about finding new jobs, before these are shot out from under them."

  "This man Mickey Vane - " Frank began.

  Matt glared up at him. "How do you know about him?" he demanded.

  "We were at the hospital with Mike last night, when that deputy arrived," said Joe.

  "Well, I can't tell you much," Matt said. "I hired him two years back, before I found out he had a record. If he'd told me about it up front, I might have kept him, but since he lied, I let him go as soon as I found out. I hadn't heard of him again till last night."

  "Did MacReedy tell you that stolen Ultratech products were being sold out of the place where Vane's body was found?" Joe asked.

  Matt's eyes widened. "No, he didn't. Unless - maybe he suspects I had something to do with it, but that's crazy!" His jaw clenched.

  "Let that go for now," said Frank. "What's the problem between you and this man Lou Gerard?"

  Matt's face took on a stony look. "Nothing. Forget about him. That's private business."

  Frank shot Matt a probing look. "We can do our job only if you level with us."

  Matt said nothing.

  After an awkward silence, Tony said, "Well, I've got to get to work. I'll catch a bus outside. See you, guys, Uncle Matt."

  "Tony!" Matt called out. "I'm trusting you not to tell your mother and father about any of this. There's no point in worrying them. Right?"

 

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