Sorry, bird. We have a killer to catch.
Frank started typing on the keyboard. “I’m going to pretend to be Luke Ripper,” he explained. “And I’m going to send C. D. Burns a message.”
He finished typing, then leaned back so I could read the message:
OUTGOING TRANSMISSION
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Tom Start
Message: Hello, Mr. Burns. You don’t know me. I’m Luke Ripper, the lead singer of the Flaming Pigs. Last night there was a fire at the Bitter End. The manager, Tom Start, was killed. I found your name and e-mail in a metal box he kept in his booth. I thought you might want to know about his unfortunate death. Signed, Luke Ripper.
Frank clicked and sent the message.
“Do you think he’ll answer?” I asked.
Frank shrugged. “He will if he wants to get his hands on the money.”
Two minutes later a message was sent back to the Web site in response to the e-mail.
Frank clicked it open. We huddled closer to the screen and read C.D. Burns’s reply.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Tom Start
Message: Yes, I heard about the fire. What a tragedy. Tom Start was a very shrewd businessman, and he will be missed. I know this may sound a bit cold and uncaring, but I can’t help wondering if he’d left anything for me inside that metal box. He owes me quite a bit of money, you see. Please let me know. It’s very important.
Signed, C. D. Burns.
Yes! It worked!
“What do we do now?” I asked Frank.
“Simple,” he said. “We arrange a meeting to give him his money. I want to see if C. D. Burns is who I think he is.”
“You have a theory?”
Frank nodded and started typing another message.
“Well? Who is it?” I asked.
Ignoring me, Frank finished his reply. I leaned over to read it.
OUTGOING TRANSMISSION
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Tom Start
Message: As a matter of fact, Mr. Burns, there is money in the box, and it has your name on it. I just wanted to make sure you were the right guy before I handed over $10,000. How can I get it to you?
Signed, Luke Ripper.
Clicking the mouse, Frank sent the message.
I took a deep breath and waited.
Playback flew over my head and landed on top of the computer screen. I guess he wanted to see what we were so interested in.
When the e-mail response flashed on the Web page with a loud bling, the parrot squawked and flapped his wings. He even tried to imitate the sound.
“Bling! Bling! Bling!”
Frank clicked open the message and read it out loud.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tom Start
Message: You can bring the money to my warehouse tomorrow night at eight o’clock. It’s located at the Bayport docks, the last pier on the south end. I’ll be waiting for you.
Signed, C. D. Burns.
That was it.
Mission accomplished.
The Hardy brothers were finally going to meet Mr. Burns face-to-face.
“Good job,” I said, slapping Frank on the back. “Your plan worked like a charm.”
He turned off his computer and spun around in his chair.
I didn’t like the look on his face.
“It’s not over yet, Joe.”
“What are you talking about? You just set up the perfect sting.”
“I don’t know,” he said grimly. “What we’re doing is pretty dangerous.”
“Hey. We live for danger, remember?”
Frank stood up and started pacing. “Yeah, but we also have to remember to be careful.”
There were those words again.
Be careful.
“Don’t worry, Frank,” I assured him. “We’re up for the job.”
Frank stopped pacing. “If we blow this, Joe, we’ll be the ones who get burned.”
Playback picked up on his final word, flapping and squawking so loudly it scared me a little.
“Burned! Burned! Burned!”
16.
Facing the Music
The whole family suspected something was up.
When we tried to leave the house the following night, Aunt Trudy stopped us to ask where we were going. Dad wanted to know how Joe’s computer class was going. And Mom wondered if I had a date with Belinda.
Sheesh.
“Enough with the questions!” I said. “It’s Saturday night. Can’t a couple of guys have a little fun without being interrogated?”
“Yeah,” Joe added. “Don’t you trust us?”
Aunt Trudy narrowed her eyes and raised a finger. “We trust that you boys are smart enough to stay out of trouble. If I have to mend another pair of ripped pants, I swear, you’re going to have to face the music.”
Joe smirked. “As long as it’s not Frank Sinatra.”
Laughing, we charged out the door and hopped on our motorcycles. Just before we headed off to meet the mysterious C. D. Burns, Joe turned to me and winked.
“Someone’s going to face the music tonight.”
It was totally dark by the time we reached the docks. No moon. No stars. Just a cold inky haze hung over the wooden piers, dimming the streetlights over our heads.
We rode our bikes to the last warehouse and stopped.
“This is it,” I said.
As soon as we killed our engines, I started to get nervous. Maybe it was the creepy sound of the waves softly slapping the piers.
Or maybe it’s because Burns is going to try to kill us tonight.
I pushed the thought from my mind. Grabbing the metal cash box, I turned around and studied the warehouse along the pier.
Where are you, Mr. Burns?
The warehouse wasn’t about to reveal its secrets. In fact, the blank square building hid its face behind a mask of shadows.
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Joe threw his arm around me. “What do you say, bro? Ready to do this?”
“Ready as ever. Let’s go.”
Our footsteps echoed across the wooden planks as we made our way down the pier. And my heart pounded louder with every step.
“I think I see him,” Joe whispered.
I peered through the darkness.
Yes, there he is.
At the corner of the warehouse, standing beneath a low overhang, was a tall figure.
C. D. Burns.
I clutched the cash box tighter in my hands. Then, taking a deep breath, Joe and I walked over to greet the man.
“You boys should be more careful,” said a deep voice.
Joe and I stopped.
The man took two steps out of the shadows. The first thing I could see in the dull light were his shoes.
White high-top sneakers.
Then his face came into view.
Joe gasped.
“Mr. Conner! You? You’re C. D. Burns?”
The high school computer teacher took another step closer, chuckling softly.
“Of course I’m not C. D. Burns,” he said. “I just came here to make sure Burns didn’t hurt you boys.”
Yeah, right.
“Let me explain. I knew you were coming to meet him here because I tapped into your computer, Frank,” Mr. Conner continued. “I was worried you were messing around with a dangerous criminal.”
“You’re lying,” I said. “You’re C. D. Burns, and I can prove it.”
The teacher stopped and frowned. “What do you mean, Frank?”
I pulled the digital sound recorder from my pocket and pushed the play button.
Lefty’
s voice crackled from the tiny speaker: “What happened, Mr. C?”
Another voice answered him: “I knocked the boys out, just to scare them. I knew this was a setup! Now let’s get out of here.”
I pushed the stop button.
Mr. Conner glared at me.
“I slipped the wireless microphone into Lefty’s pocket at the mall,” I explained. “I recorded everything on the night you attacked us, but it was hard to recognize your voice because you were whispering. But I got it.”
Mr. Conner didn’t try to argue.
Instead he pulled out a knife.
“Hand over the recorder,” he snarled.
I reached out and gave it to him. With a quick toss, he threw the device over the side of the pier. I heard it land in the water with a tiny splash.
“Okay,” he said. “Now give me the money.”
I sighed and handed him the metal cash box.
“Stand back,” he warned, waving the knife in the air.
Joe and I stepped back while Mr. Conner opened the box. He glanced down at a stack of papers and growled.
“What’s this?”
“My computer class assignment,” said Joe. “I know it’s a little overdue, but I haven’t been able to finish it. Sorry about that.”
Mr. Conner howled. “WHERE’S MY MONEY?”
Throwing the box of papers to his feet, he lunged at us with the knife.
Joe and I ducked out of the way, jumping back in opposite directions. Mr. Conner raised the knife again.
But this time, he was forced to choose just one of us.
Which happened to be me.
“You’re dead, kid!”
He swiped at my chest with the knife, slicing through the air and grazing my leather jacket.
I staggered and fell.
Mr. Conner sneered. “I’ll give you an A for effort, Frank. But this is one lesson you’re going to fail.”
The teacher leaped at me with the knife.
I scrambled backward like a crab until I reached the end of the pier. Teetering on the edge, I heard the soft waves gurgling beneath me.
Mr. Conner pointed his knife like a sword.
“I’ve heard you like to solve mysteries, Hardy. Well, this time you’ve really gone overboard.”
He jabbed at my throat. I tilted my head back—and prepared to plunge over the side—when somebody yelled, “Hey! Conner! Burn this!”
Joe jumped up behind his teacher. He swung the metal cash box through the air and clobbered Mr. Conner in the head.
Nice swing, Joe!
The man was stunned. Knocked down by the blow, he moaned and dropped his knife.
“Joe! His knife!” I shouted.
Joe looked down and gave the weapon a quick kick, sending it clattering across the planks. Then he started walking toward me. “Are you okay, Frank?”
“Joe! Behind you!”
My brother spun around, but it was too late.
The crazed teacher charged across the pier.
And shoved Joe over the edge.
No!
The sound of the splash chilled me to the bone. I could only imagine how chilled my brother was by the shock of the cold water.
Good thing he’s a good swimmer.
But I had to stop worrying about Joe.
Because Mr. Conner was coming after me now.
And worse yet, he had the knife.
I decide to make a run for it. Turning toward the shore, I bolted across the pier, but I didn’t get very far. Something was holding me back.
It was Conner, of course.
He had me by the leather jacket.
“Where are you going, Frank?” he snapped. “School is still in session.”
With a sharp tug, he pulled me back against him. With one arm he grabbed my waist. And with the other, he pressed the cold blade of the knife against my throat.
“I told you that you were going to get burned,” he whispered in my ear.
I froze and gasped for air, the blade pressing against my skin.
“You’ll never get away with this,” I said.
“Sure I will. I threw your evidence into the bay.”
“I made copies of it. You know all about copies, don’t you, Mr. Conner?”
He scoffed. “But you said you couldn’t recognize my voice.”
“Not at first. But we have video evidence that proves it was you.”
“Video evidence?”
“I filmed it during the attack,” I said. “I have pictures of your shoes.”
“My shoes?”
Mr. Conner pulled away from me to glance down at his sneakers. White high tops. Sure, there were lots of other white high tops in town—but these bought me some time.
This is my chance.
I knocked his arm away from my throat. Ducking fast, I pulled myself free and darted to the side.
Mr. Conner was furious.
“That’s it, Hardy. Prepare to die!”
Raising the knife over his head, he ran and leaped and…
POW!
Three men jumped out of the shadows and tackled him.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
It was the Flaming Pigs!
Luke Ripper, Bam-Bam, and Grunt wrestled the knife away from Mr. Conner and pinned him down to the pier.
“We got him, Frank!” Luke yelled over his shoulder.
“Wha—what are you guys doing here?” I asked.
“Never mind us,” said Grunt. “Go check on your brother.”
Joe!
I ran to the edge of the pier and looked over the side.
Nothing. Just blackness and gentle waves.
“Joe! Can you hear me? Joe!”
I stopped screaming and listened.
“Don’t just stand there, Frank. Help me up.”
It was Joe.
He was six feet below me, bobbing up and down in the water, clinging to one of the beams beneath the pier.
“Hello? I’m waiting.”
By the time we managed to get my brother out of the water, the police had arrived.
“I called 9-1-1 as soon as we saw that guy pull the knife on you,” said Bam-Bam, waving his cell phone.
Joe shivered under a police blanket. “But why were you here? How did you know we were coming to meet C.D. Burns?”
Luke Ripper gave a little shrug. “It was easy. We read the messages on the Flaming Pigs Web site.”
I was impressed. “Maybe you guys should be undercover agents,” I suggested.
Grunt and Bam-Bam weren’t too thrilled with the idea. “We’d rather be a band with a top-selling album,” said the drummer.
“I don’t how to thank you guys,” I said.
Luke shrugged again. “It works both ways, man. You caught the guy who’s stealing our music. We should be thanking you.”
Suddenly a siren wailed behind us. We all turned and looked.
Mr. Conner was being taken away in the back of a police car.
The mission was finally over.
I sat down next to my brother. “So how do you feel, Joe?”
He sat there for a minute, watching the flashing police lights disappear in the distance. “I’m totally psyched, Frank,” he said.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, it feels good to catch a criminal, doesn’t it? Like we’re really doing something, making the world a better place.”
Joe shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“No? So why are you psyched, Joe?”
He looked me in the eye. “I don’t have to finish that stupid computer assignment now.”
I smacked him in the back of the head.
“Let’s go home. Frank Sinatra’s waiting.”
CLUE IN TO THE CLASSIC MYSTERIES OF THE HARDY BOYS® FROM GROSSET & DUNLAP
—The Hardy Boys #1: The Tower Treasure
—The Hardy Boys #2: The House on the Cliff
—The Hardy Boys #3: The Secret of the Old Mill
—The Hardy Boys #4: The Missing Chums
—The Hardy Boys #5: Hunting for Hidden Gold
—The Hardy Boys #6: The Shore Road Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #7: The Secret of the Caves
—The Hardy Boys #8: The Mystery of Cabin Island
—The Hardy Boys #9: The Great Airport Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #10: What Happened at Midnight
—The Hardy Boys #11: While the Clock Ticked
—The Hardy Boys #12: Footprints Under the Window
—The Hardy Boys #13: The Mark on the Door
—The Hardy Boys #14: The Hidden Harbor Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #15: The Sinister Signpost
—The Hardy Boys #16: A Figure in Hiding
—The Hardy Boys #17: The Secret Warning
—The Hardy Boys #18: The Twisted Claw
—The Hardy Boys #19: The Disappearing Floor
—The Hardy Boys #20: Mystery of the Flying Express
—The Hardy Boys #21: The Clue of the Broken Blade
—The Hardy Boys #22: The Flickering Torch Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #23: The Melted Coins
—The Hardy Boys #24: The Short-Wave Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #25: The Secret Panel
—The Hardy Boys #26: The Phantom Freighter
—The Hardy Boys #27: The Secret of Skull Mountain
—The Hardy Boys #28: The Sign of the Crooked Arrow
—The Hardy Boys #29: The Secret of the Lost Tunnel
—The Hardy Boys #30: The Wailing Siren Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #31: The Secret of Wildcat Swamp
—The Hardy Boys #32: The Crisscross Shadow
—The Hardy Boys #33: The Yellow Feather Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #34: The Hooded Hawk Mystery
—The Hardy Boys #35: The Clue in the Embers
—The Hardy Boys #36: The Secret of Pirates’ Hill
—Hardy Boys #37: The Ghost at Skeleton Rock
—The Hardy Boys #38: Mystery at Devil’s Paw
—The Hardy Boys #39: The Mystery of the Chinese Junk
—The Hardy Boys #40: Mystery of the Desert Giant
—The Hardy Boys #41: The Clue of the Screeching Owl
—The Hardy Boys #42: The Viking Symbol Mystery
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