Eye on Crime

by Franklin W. Dixon

  Chief Collig stood up and pushed his chair back under the table.

  “Hmmm. Interesting,” he said. “Now the million-dollar question: When did you next see them?”

  Joe let out a long breath. He glanced around the room. Frank looked at his own shoes.

  “Need that one read back to you?” Collig chided.

  “We saw Iola around eleven at her house,” Frank said. “Callie we didn’t see until the next morning at school just before they were arrested.”

  There was silence in the room for several heart-beats.

  “Can we go now?”

  “Sure, Joe, you can go,” Con said.

  Frank and Joe got up from the table and headed for the door of the interrogation room.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Collig said. “Any witnesses to where you two were after the show?”

  “Chet Morton and Tony Prito and about half a dozen other people who came into the pizza place,” Joe said. He didn’t want to use his friends’ names, but he knew it was inevitable.

  “A whole gang of teens,” Collig sneered.

  “What was that?” Joe asked, perturbed at Collig’s choice of words. Joe stepped away from the door and moved into the center of the room. The muscular teen leaned his hands against the table. He stared into Ezra Collig’s weathered eyes.

  “Teens, friends, they hang together, cover for one another.”

  “Well, if we’re covering for Callie and Iola,” Joe said, “we did a pretty bad job of it.”

  “Yeah, pretty bad,” Collig said. Just then Con put his hand on his commander’s shoulder, almost as if it was a choreographed stage move. The two police officers walked to the far side of the room. They spoke in hushed tones for a couple of minutes.

  Joe gave Frank a quizzical look. Frank shrugged his shoulders and walked over to stand next to Joe.

  When the two men turned their attention back to the brothers, Joe asked, “So, what else do you want to know? What we had for dinner? If Tony got us a discount? What?”

  “Hey, you get a discount?” Con asked. Some of the tension went out of the room. “So,” Con continued, “how’s it look for Bayport’s baseball team this season?”

  “Pretty good,” Frank answered.

  “Shoreham’s not going to give you any trouble?” Con asked. “Especially with Rojas and Wingfoot gone.”

  “Okay, Riley,” Collig cut in. “That’s enough. I know you’re chummy with these kids, but I want them away from this case. Or you’re going to be away from it. Clear?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Con said.

  Collig turned to Frank and Joe. “I don’t want to see you boys around here.”

  “What about Iola and Callie?” Joe asked.

  “I’ll repeat, I do not want to hear, sniff, or see that you two are meddling with this case.”

  “What case?” Frank asked. “You still haven’t told us what’s going on with our friends.”

  Collig did not reply. His eyes narrowed as he looked at something that had caught his attention. He stepped past Frank and Joe, walking briskly to the blinds that covered the interrogation room’s window, a window that looked out onto the station’s central area.

  He poked at the blinds with his fingers. “What is going on out there?” He exhaled with disbelief.

  Frank and Joe could hear shouts of anger coming from the other side of the window. Then they heard the distinct clatter of furniture being overturned.

  “Oh, man,” Chief Collig murmured through gritted teeth. “Not in a room full of cops.”

  6 Putting the Pieces Together

  * * *

  Chief Collig threw open the door and bolted into the central office. Frank, Joe, and Con Riley could all hear a loud commotion emanating from the main room. Frank and Joe were through the door right on Collig’s heels, with Riley two steps behind them.

  “What’s going on out here?” Collig growled. It was hard to hear him over the noise. Most of the police officers were standing at their desks, frozen, while a few ran toward what looked like a wrestling match at the top of the stairs. It appeared that several officers were trying to control a large man, but neither Frank nor Joe could make out who it was through the twist of bodies.

  Collig raced across the room.

  “Hold it!” he shouted. “Hold it!”

  As Collig got closer, the melee calmed down a bit. However, the chief still blocked Frank and Joe’s view of who was being detained. From where they stood, it appeared that three officers were holding back one very enraged man.

  “I just want to see my daughter!” the man yelled.

  Frank immediately recognized the voice of a man he had spent a lot of time talking to over the last couple of years.

  “Mr. Shaw?” Frank trotted over to the group of men.

  “Mr. Who? Oh, no.” Collig put his right hand on one officer’s shoulder and his left on another’s. “Okay. It’s okay, boys. Calm down. Let him go.” The cops who were holding the man eased their grip. After a moment’s hesitation they let go and stepped back a few paces.

  “Mr. Shaw?” Frank asked as he maneuvered himself next to the angered man. “What happened?”

  Joe trotted up. “Police brutality?” he asked sarcastically. “Or maybe they won’t let him talk to Callie either.”

  “That’s exactly it!” Mr. Shaw shouted. “They won’t let me see my daughter!”

  “Look, sir,” Collig said. “I am so sorry.”

  “You should be,” Mr. Shaw growled. “I hear my little girl is arrested, and I come down here to see her, but your goon squad won’t tell me anything.”

  “Again, I apologize. They’re under strict orders that the girls have no visitors.” Collig turned his head to shout at the squad room. “But I didn’t mean their parents.” He put an arm around Mr. Shaw’s shoulder.

  “Here,” he said. “Let me personally take you down to see your daughter.”

  Chief Collig ushered Mr. Shaw down the stairs before Frank or Joe could get in a word.

  “Looks like he doesn’t know what’s going on either,” Frank said.

  “Well, they’ll have to tell him,” Joe said. The two brothers began to trot down the stairs. They spotted the chief and Mr. Shaw just as they rounded a corner, heading deeper into the precinct house toward the holding cells.

  “Should we try to tag along?” Joe asked.

  “Nah. Collig won’t let us get close. We might as well head back to school. We’ll give Callie’s dad a call later and see what he might have learned.”

  The brothers headed out to their van. In silence they got in, Frank taking the driver’s seat, and began the journey back to school.

  “We pretty much missed morning classes,” Joe said, making idle conversation.

  “I hope Chet and Tony took good notes for us,” Frank said. “I was looking forward to being a student again for a while. No cases, just classes.”

  “And baseball practice,” Joe said. “For once I’d like to make it through a season without missing practice. I don’t want any excuses, win or lose, this year.”

  “We’ll beat Shoreham, bro. We’ve got a dynamite team this year.”

  “So do they, unless Rojas and Wingfoot go to jail. Without them, they’ll have an excuse if they lose.”

  Frank’s eyes lit up. He sat higher in the driver’s seat and snapped his fingers once.

  “What class did you miss?” he asked happily.

  “Math. Why?”

  “Well, you get an A! You just helped with some stellar addition and problem solving.”

  “You’re losing me here, Frank.”

  “Baseball season! That’s the key.”

  “Okay, baseball. Got ya. Baseball is going to get Iola and Callie cleared of robbery.”

  “It might,” Frank said. “Remember when Con asked us about our chances against Shoreham?”

  “Yeah. Small talk. Con’s great at small talk.”

  “And at giving us clues. He knows you saw what was in that file, or at least
he figures you might have seen something. He wanted us to know that what is happening with the girls really is connected to the robbery at the Jewelry Exchange.”

  “And?”

  “So he’s given us a place to start. Find out what happened at the Jewelry Exchange and we can clear the girls.”

  “In fact,” Joe said, catching on to Con’s clue, “he gave us two places to start. He wanted us to be concerned specifically with Rojas and Wingfoot. Maybe he figures we can get to them in a way that the cops can’t.”

  Frank slowed down as he made a left turn into Bayport High’s parking lot. “So we have two places to check, the Jewelry Exchange and the alleged thieves,” he said.

  “Great”—Joe laughed—“now even the police are giving us homework.”

  “I wonder if we can get extra credit,” Frank said as he pulled the van into a parking space. He cut the engine and hopped out, grabbing his books from the backseat. The brothers headed into the main building just as the bell rang.

  “Well, we made it back in time for lunch. We’re sure to ace that class,” Joe said. “Let’s find Chet and Tony and fill them in on what happened at the police station.”

  Frank and Joe made their way to the cafeteria. When they entered the large room, it was already teeming with a mass of students. Joe craned his head, surveying the crowd. He spotted Chet and Tony sitting at a table by the window. The two were alone, sitting in silence, picking at their food. Even Chet’s legendary appetite had deserted him.

  “Frank and Joe Hardy to Long Face Central,” Joe said as he approached the table. He sat down next to Chet.

  “Not much to celebrate,” Chet said.

  Frank sat on the bench next to Tony. “Not right now,” he said. “But we’re working on it.”

  “So you got some information from the cops?”

  “If you call getting threatened with obstruction of justice information,” Joe said.

  “Joe’s understating our success,” Frank quickly added.

  “So what did you find out? Did you see my sister? What did they say?”

  “In order,” Frank said. “Little, but it may be important. Yes. And not much before Chief Collig cut them off.”

  “Details,” Tony said. “We had English literature this morning, so you can use long sentences.”

  Some tension left the table with Tony’s comment. After some chuckles, the group huddled closer together.

  “Callie and Iola were arrested for robbery,” Frank revealed in a low voice.

  “My sister?” Chet yelled. Joe held up a silencing finger, indicating that he preferred the whole school not be let in on the facts.

  “R-robbery?” Chet stammered in a quieter voice. “What did they steal?”

  “Allegedly steal.” Tony corrected his frenetic friend.

  “We’re not certain,” Joe said, “but we think they’re suspects in the Jewelry Exchange heist.”

  “Like the girls are into jewelry?” Tony sounded incredulous. “I mean, they are girls and all, but flashy gold and sparkling diamonds are not their speed.”

  “That’s for sure,” Frank agreed. “When I gave Callie a charm bracelet for her birthday, she said she was afraid to wear such a nice piece of jewelry.”

  “Anyway,” Chet said, “I thought the cops had collared Rojas and Wingfoot from Shoreham High for that job.”

  “Maybe they think that those two robbed the store to get the jewels to give the girls,” Tony said.

  “I don’t think they even know Callie and Iola, let alone know them well enough to steal a million dollars in baubles for them,” Joe said. “And anyway, if that was the case, the cops would have just brought the girls in for questioning.”

  “Still, we do plan to follow up the Rojas and Wingfoot angle,” Frank added.

  “All of this speculation is giving me a headache,” Chet said. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got time to call my parents to see what they found out at the station. Maybe they have some clearer information.”

  Chet got up from the table and left the cafeteria. The three other friends sat in silence, picking at their lunches for the five minutes that he was gone. When he returned, Chet wore a worried frown on his face.

  “Didn’t hit a home run, I take it,” Joe said.

  Chet shook his head. “Didn’t even get to swing the bat.”

  “They didn’t tell you anything about your own sister being arrested?” Tony was amazed.

  “They said the police told them that they could reveal nothing, not even to me. Specifically to me, in fact.”

  “They must have your mom and dad pretty shaken up to be able to get them to go for such a gag order.”

  “You got that straight, Frank. My mom sounded very nervous. Then my dad got on the phone and grilled me about last night.”

  “How so?” Joe asked.

  “Where I was, who I was with. Times, travel routes, the whole nine yards. It was like he was investigating me.”

  “Wow, talk about overreactions,” Tony said.

  “You might be next, buddy,” Chet replied. “He asked for your mom’s number.”

  “Just because we were all together last night? Well, the guys at the pizza place have us covered.”

  “The police grilled us about what we were up to last night also,” Frank said.

  Joe put his chin in his hand and leaned his elbow against the table. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

  “Doing chemistry in your head again, Joe?”

  “No, Frank, more addition. Remember when we were about to leave the interrogation room? When Collig made that crack about teens hanging together?”

  “Collig is always making cracks about us. I think he was born a crotchety middle-aged man. He’s not fond of youth, which to him is anybody a day or more younger than he is.”

  “That’s my point,” Joe said. “He doesn’t like teenagers. To him we’re all one step away from making trouble. Emphasis this time on the word all.”

  “I think I follow you now,” Frank said.

  “Want to let us in on it?” Chet asked.

  “Gangs,” Joe said. The word hung in the air.

  After a moment Tony spoke. “And he thinks we’re a gang?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Frank said.

  “So he thinks we’re all part of some jewelry store-robbing gang? That’s a little hard to swallow.”

  “Not for you, Chet,” Joe said with a smile.

  “Yeah, but a gang like that is big-time stuff,” Tony said. “People get hurt, serious crimes are committed. Nothing like that happens here in Bayport.”

  “We’ve been fortunate,” Frank replied. “And part of that may be because the police chief has strict views on young people. Maybe he has a fear, what with the Jewelry Exchange robbery, that gangs are making a debut in Bayport.”

  “That still doesn’t tie us or Iola and Callie into it at all,” Chet said.

  “Not yet,” Joe responded. “But we’re going to work on that angle later this afternoon.”

  “Work on it how?” Tony asked.

  “Frank and I are going shopping in the jewelry district.”

  “After we catch some classes,” Frank added.

  • • •

  After school Frank and Joe met at the van.

  “Man, believe it or not, it was nice to be a student for a little while,” Frank said.

  Joe climbed into the van. “I hear you,” he said with a nod. “History class almost took my mind off our girlfriends’ being in jail.”

  “They’ll be out soon,” Frank said. “Robbery doesn’t require them to be held without bail. I figure they’ll be out by dinnertime.”

  The rest of the drive to the Jewelry Exchange was filled with talk of classwork and studying. The brothers even quizzed each other to stay mentally sharp. It was an invigorating exercise that helped keep their minds ready for whatever might come their way, on or off a case.

  “Ah, here we are,” Frank said as he pulled into the store’s p
arking lot.

  “I hope we’re not underdressed,” Joe said as he looked at some of the people going in and out of the store’s front door. Everybody he saw was wearing either a suit or a fashionable dress.

  “Or underage,” Frank added.

  Once the two were inside the Jewelry Exchange, all three of the shop’s workers and most of its dozen or so customers turned a disapproving eye toward the Hardys.

  “Maybe the thief hit this place because he doesn’t like snooty people,” Joe whispered.

  “Just try to be casual,” Frank replied. “We’re here looking for a present for Mom or something.”

  The two brothers split up, Frank moving toward the standing glass cases on the left and Joe heading over to the counters on the right. Both noted the locks on the cases and cabinets; they were standard medium-security locks, most likely hardwired to an alarm system. Frank concentrated on getting the rhythm of the clientele, but all he could observe was that he and Joe were the only ones who looked out of place. However, the store was awfully busy, especially for having been robbed two nights earlier. It made Frank wonder how the stock could have been replenished so quickly.

  Joe moved toward the back of the store, near where he could see a door that probably led to some back rooms. The door was partially opened, only revealing a desk and door to Joe, whose field of vision was limited. Joe glanced down at a case of gold necklaces, so as not to appear to be staring at the door. When he chanced another look, he saw somebody move inside the office. Joe could see only the person’s pants leg, and he was sure that what he saw was not the standard slacks that someone would wear with a suit. The leg looked as if it belonged to work overalls.

  “May I help you?” came a shrill voice from behind Joe.

  “Uh, yeah,” Joe replied. He turned around to peer into the face of a thin, pale man with wire-rimmed glasses and a disapproving stare. “I was hoping to get something nice for my mother.”

  “Well, that is certainly possible, depending on what price range you were considering.”

  “I was thinking,” Joe began, but there was no way he could be heard over the sudden crash of glass and the wailing of the loudest alarm he had ever heard.