Two seconds later both thugs came into the hallway.
“We held the elevator for you,” Frank called as he let go of the button. He ducked his head inside the right-hand elevator car as the door began to close. The poorly dressed thug reached the bank of elevators just as both doors closed.
“You could always take the stairs!” Joe hollered. Then he slumped against the wall, letting his hot muscles unwind.
“Do you think we lost them?” Frank asked.
“Thirteen more flights of running stairs?” Joe replied. “They probably gave up for now.”
When the elevator reached the lobby, Frank cautiously poked his head out into the corridor.
“Coast looks clear,” he said, taking a wary step out of the elevator. He looked around again. Satisfied that the two thugs had not yet reached the ground floor, Frank motioned to his brother.
When the trio made it out of the building, Frank led the still groggy television celebrity to the van. He pushed Monty inside, and then he and Joe got in. Joe started the engine and pulled out into the sparse downtown traffic.
“Okay, time to answer some questions,” Frank said to Monty Andrews.
“Wha . . . Who . . .” Monty rubbed his abdomen. “Hey, you’re those two—wait, I never forget a face.”
“The Hardys,” Joe said.
“Yeah.” Monty snapped his fingers. “The kid detectives from the show.” Monty suddenly turned pale. “Hey! Where are you taking me?” he asked with a shaky voice.
Frank and Joe remained silent, letting the fear grow in the entertainer.
“What do you want with me?” Monty ventured.
“To confess to robbing those jewelry stores!” Joe spat.
“I was afraid this was going to happen,” Monty said, trembling.
“What, that you’d get caught?” Frank asked.
“No, that I’d get blamed.” Monty hung his head in shame.
“You’d better start making some sense,” Joe threatened.
“I-I’m not behind those robberies,” Monty stammered. “But I think I may be responsible.”
Frank stared icily at the television star. Monty gulped.
“Come on, what are you going to do to me?” he asked, but the brothers remained silent.
“Okay, look,” Monty said. “I think the real thief is Ronald Johnson. I think he set me up.”
“So far the only people who’ve been set up are some friends of ours,” Joe said.
“Johnson,” Frank cut in. “He owns Eye Spy Security.”
“That’s right,” Monty replied. “That’s where I was when those goons, Louie Spicolli and Larry Zybysko, grabbed me. I went there because I saw the newspaper and I realized that both sets of teens that landed in jail had been hypnotized by me the evenings of the robberies. I think Johnson is using them somehow to make these heists. When I confronted him, Johnson unleashed Spicolli and Zybysko.”
“So far you both sound guilty,” Joe said. “What’s your connection to Johnson?”
“I’m into him for a lot of money. The guy’s a loan shark. He kept letting me run up the interest on my loan. Then when I hit it big with Monty Mania, he decided to call in the marker. But by then my debt was huge, much more than I could pay all at once. He made me a deal.”
“And what was the deal?” Frank asked.
“He wanted me to give some of the people I hypnotized special instructions. It was purely by chance whom he chose. Or so I thought. Now I’m thinking there was something particular about these people, but I don’t know what.”
“The teen gang theory,” Joe stated. Frank nodded in agreement.
“What? Anyway, sometimes Johnson would coach me before the show on how he wanted me to do my routines. He wanted a lot of young guests. And he wanted the hypnotism routines to contain a lot of mystery and action. It sounded like good, solid entertainment, so I integrated his suggestions into the act. Anyway, after some performances, he would meet me backstage and have me give posthypnotic instructions to some of the guests.”
“What were the instructions?” Frank asked.
“Seemed innocent enough. He wanted them to go to the park, make sure that nobody followed them, and to stay out of sight for several hours. He told me to do it, and I didn’t ask any questions. He owns me!”
“So how does this all fit together?” Joe asked. “Ronald Johnson, legitimate businessman and loan shark, uses a two-bit hypnotist to give innocent teenagers weird instructions on what to do onstage and where to go later that night. I’m not sure I’m buying any of this.”
“I don’t know how this ties into the robberies,” Monty said. “Maybe Johnson goes to the park and snatches the kids and uses the influence of my hypnosis to get them to hit the stores.”
“Great,” frank said. “The hypnotism probably doesn’t leave any telltale traces that can be used to prove the robbers weren’t in their right minds when they did the crime.”
“So, we know how Johnson might be doing it,” Joe said, “but that doesn’t help us catch him.”
“Oh, yes it does,” Frank said as the van pulled into the television station parking lot. “It gives me an idea on how to nail Ronald Johnson at his own game.”
12 Caught in the Act
* * *
“So how do we nail him?” Joe asked.
“He’s looking for actors.” Frank smirked. “Teenage actors. Like us.”
Joe gave his brother a questioning look. Then he nodded his head.
“So where do I fit in?” Monty asked.
“You’re going to put us on your show,” Frank said.
“What!” Joe was taken by surprise by his brother’s request. But he immediately recovered and backed up his brother. “What a great idea.”
“We’ll be your next teens chosen from the audience,” Frank explained. “Then let’s see if this Ronald Johnson comes after us.”
Joe stopped the van at the back door to the television studio.
“Are we agreed?” he asked.
“Okay, sure.” Monty reached into his jacket and pulled out two tickets to his show. “I guess I owe you guys for saving me up on that roof. You’re on Monday.”
“Good,” Frank said. “Make it four tickets.” The performer produced two more tickets. Frank opened the van door and let Monty out onto the sidewalk.
“Just for the record,” Joe said, “which goon is which?”
“Zybysko’s the one with the tan,” Monty replied.
“Thanks,” Joe said.
“Hey, what about my car?” Monty cried. “It’s still downtown. And what if Spicolli and Zybysko try to grab me again.”
“Catch a cab to get the car,” Joe shouted as he put the van in gear. “And as for those two goons, I doubt they’ll be after you again. Johnson probably just wanted them to scare you.”
When they were away from the studio, Joe questioned his brother.
“Why do we want to be on the show?”
“Because it’s the best way to see how things operate around there. And I want to stick close to Monty.”
“So you don’t buy the whole Ronald Johnson story?” Joe asked.
“I buy into most of it,” Frank replied. “But I think Monty’s in it with him.”
“But now Monty’s scared that Johnson will have him killed,” Joe said.
“Hey, robbery and frame-up is a dirty business. But big money makes for strange partners. I figure Monty will be back in on the scam either to make more dough or to save his own hide.”
• • •
The Hardy brothers spent the rest of the weekend in relative serenity. They checked in on Callie and Iola and brought the girls up to speed on their investigation. The rest of the weekend was spent doing homework and catching up on lost sleep, except for the time Frank did a background check on Ronald Johnson.
Frank fired up the computer Sunday night and surfed the Internet. He visited Eye Spy Security’s Web site, where he learned that the company provided security for countless bu
sinesses in Bayport. Their systems were state of the art. In fact, Eye Spy prided itself on using cameras of such high quality that even some television studios used them for inexpensive video filming.
“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn later that Eye Spy Security provides cameras for the Monty Mania production,” Frank speculated. “That would give Johnson fast access to the film he wanted to splice into the surveillance camera footage at the stores.”
As for Ronald Johnson himself, there was very little to be learned. He had graduated from a small-town business college, had no police record, and supposedly built Eye Spy from scratch. Some intense creative research did unveil that he was a distant relative of a small-time New York crime boss, but other than blood, there was nothing to tie Ronald Johnson into anything shady.
“Still,” Joe pointed out, “that could be where the loan shark money originally came from. Then he turned that money into Eye Spy.”
“Possibly. And being a security expert would help him get inside any place he wanted to rob. Especially places for which he provided the security system.”
• • •
At school on Monday, Frank and Joe gathered Callie, the Mortons, and Tony Prito together. The group sat in the cafeteria at their usual table by the window.
“Okay, the timing is going to be tight,” Joe said. “We have baseball practice after school, so Frank and I will have to rush over to the station.” He took two tickets out of his pocket and handed one to Chet and one to Tony. “You two meet us inside. Get there early and see if you can get close to Monty Andrews, like you’re autograph hounds or something. Better yet, say you’re doing a story for the school newspaper. He’s such a ham, you might be able to get him talking. Maybe you can pick up some buzz backstage.”
“Hey, where are our tickets?” Iola asked.
“At first we were thinking Callie and Iola would go to the show with us,” Frank replied. “But I think seeing two of his former victims might spook Monty or Ronald Johnson.”
“So we get left out in the cold?” Callie sounded very disappointed.
“Exactly,” Frank said. “We need you to park and hold the space next to you for us. Then we want you stationed at that back entrance to the studio, where the guests come out after the show.”
“This is important,” Joe continued. “You’re our safety net. If we’re given a posthypnotic suggestion to get out of sight for a while, your job is to stay right on top of us wherever we go.”
“Should we go with you in the van?” Iola asked.
“No,” Joe said. “Just in case the crooks are keeping tabs on us to make sure they can pull off a robbery, we want them to think they’re in the clear. You’ll have to be very discreet in following us.”
“What should Tony and I do after the show?” Chet asked.
“Go to our house and wait for us there,” Frank replied. “If the setup is anything like what happened with Callie and Iola, we’ll be long gone from the studio before you could get outside to your car. But our house will give you a base from which to back all of us up if we need you.”
With the plans wrapped up, they all went their separate ways for the afternoon. They met for one more pep talk after classes. Then Frank and Joe went to baseball practice. A grueling two hours later, the Hardys were in the locker room, washing their aching muscles in the shower.
“Man, the coach sure put us through some workout for the first day,” Joe said.
“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “He found out that Shoreham started practice last week, so he wants to make up for lost time.”
The brothers finished their showers, got dressed, and drove over to the television studio. The parking lot was almost completely full. They circled the rows of cars until they found Callie and Iola, standing in an empty parking space next to Callie’s car.
“People must have loved you two,” Joe said. “This is the last spot.”
“A wink and a smile does wonders,” Callie replied. “Even for some poor guy looking for a parking space.”
The brothers ran into the studio while the girls took up their station by the back door of the building.
Inside, Frank and Joe found their seats next to Tony and Chet.
“Get anything?” Frank asked.
“Some autographed pictures,” Tony said. “And a look at somebody we think is Ronald Johnson.”
“Black hair, small pug nose, wide, round blue eyes?” asked Frank.
“Yeah,” Chet replied.
“That’s him,” Frank said. “His picture was on the Eye Spy Web site.”
“Yeah, well, as soon as he showed up, Monty shooed off the fans who were backstage. Johnson wanted to talk to him. Monty didn’t look happy.”
“That could be a good sign,” Joe said. “Maybe Johnson wants to pull another heist tonight.”
The house lights dimmed, and the show started. After the assistant producer went through the show’s rules, Monty came out and did his opening routine. Then, just as planned, when it came time to pick participants from the audience, he zeroed in on Frank and Joe.
“Hey, we have some repeat performers!” Monty beamed. “I recognize you guys from last week.” Monty zipped into the audience and stood next to Frank.
“Come on, audience, let’s see if we can get these two . . . What were your names again?” Monty stuck the microphone in Joe’s face.
“Joe and Frank Hardy.”
“Let’s see if we can get Joe and Frank to let us hypnotize them.”
The audience erupted in applause. Monty began to walk down the aisle. Frank and Joe followed him to the stage. After some questions and jokes, Monty hypnotized the two brothers.
“Now, those of you who tuned in last week may remember that these young boys fancy themselves superdetectives. Well, let’s see how they feel when the shoe is on the other foot.”
Monty turned to Frank and Joe. “It’s time for some cops and robbers,” he said as he motioned to somebody offstage. A crew rolled out some props, and the stage suddenly looked like a warehouse.
“Okay, think of some of the crooks you’ve caught in the past. Now use this warehouse to replay some of their dastardly schemes.”
Frank and Joe went to the warehouse set. First, Frank produced a set of lock picks from his back pocket and worked on the warehouse door. Once inside, the brothers skulked around, melting into pretend shadows. Joe tore open one of the prop boxes, got a greedy look on his face, and reached inside. Then he held his hands up as if he were showing something to Frank. Frank went to the back of the warehouse and pulled an imaginary chain as though he were opening a loading-dock door. Then Frank and Joe began lifting some of the prop boxes as if they were loading the stolen goods into a truck.
The audience howled with delight at how Monty Andrews had gotten the two do-gooders to commit a “crime.” Monty then snapped Frank and Joe out of their trances and sent them backstage. They signed some legal release forms and were then met by Monty Andrews after he wrapped up the show.
A little while later Frank and Joe walked out the backstage door.
“How’d it go?” Callie asked when the two had emerged from the building.
“Uh, okay,” Frank stammered as he walked past his girlfriend. Joe completely ignored Iola as he followed his older brother.
“Posthypnotic suggestion,” Iola whispered to Callie. “Let’s stay on them.”
Frank and Joe walked to the van. The girls hung back a little to make sure that somebody else wasn’t watching them watch their boyfriends.
Frank got in the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start the engine for a few minutes. Then the passenger door opened and closed. Frank started the engine. As he pulled out of the parking space, he saw Callie and Iola jump into their car. He could just make out the sound of Callie’s engine vainly struggling to start as the people who were supposed to keep tabs on him and Joe became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
13 The Disappearing Hardys
* * *
It wasn�
��t until after eleven that evening that Frank and Joe Hardy saw anybody else. The brothers entered their house. Inside, the living room was full of people. Mrs. Hardy carried in a tray of refreshments while Fenton Hardy sat on the couch stoically comforting the guests. Callie paced the floor; Iola wrung her hands; and Chet and Tony pulled books off the shelf above the television, trying to keep themselves distracted.
Frank and Joe glanced at the gathering for a moment and then wordlessly began to ascend the stairs.
“Hold it right there!” Callie shouted. Frank and Joe both froze in their tracks. “Come down here.” Both young men followed the terse instructions.
“Okay, what’s the big idea?” Callie asked. Frank and Joe stared at her with blank expressions.
“Let’s ease up a second,” Fenton Hardy suggested. “If what you told me about the hypnotism is correct, they may not answer such vague questions.”
“Let me try,” Tony said. “How about ‘Frank and Joe, where have you been this evening since you left the studio?’ ”
“We drove to the lake,” Frank stated.
“Well, we were supposed to follow you to verify that,” Iola said. “But when we got in Callie’s car, it wouldn’t start. We had to call the automobile club to help us. Turns out somebody jammed the starter.”
“Did you do that, Joe?” Callie asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Why?”
“Because we wanted to be alone,” Frank answered.
“Well, they were probably instructed to make sure they weren’t followed,” Chet offered. “And seeing as they had prior plans to be followed, Joe sabotaged Callie’s car so that couldn’t happen.”
Eye on Crime Page 8