The Borgia Dagger

by Franklin W. Dixon

  "So you want us to find the agreement," Joe said.

  "No," Ruppenthal said, sitting back in his chair. "I have people looking for it, but I'm afraid it's lost or destroyed. What I have in mind is something much more exciting."

  Frank and Joe watched as Ruppenthal reached into his top desk drawer.

  "The museum has a small reserve fund," he continued. "It has been building over the years for use in extreme emergency. Until now it hasn't been touched. Plainly, what I am saying is, I will make it worth your while to convince Tessa to return the Carpenter Collection. I don't care how you do it."

  Slowly he pulled a thick envelope out of the drawer and opened it. Onto the desk fell several stacks of crisp one-hundred dollar bills.

  "There's ten thousand dollars. If you agree, all of it will be yours."

  Chapter 6

  For a moment the Hardys just stared at the stacks of money in front of them. Then Frank spoke up.

  "Let me get this straight, Mr. Ruppenthal. For ten thousand dollars, you would like the two of us to talk to our friend, wine her and dine her if necessary -er - and somehow convince her to give back the collection." "We'd be like spies, in other words," Joe said. "If you like," Ruppenthal said with a smile. "And we'd be accepting a bribe," Joe went on. "Well, I prefer to think of it as payment for services rendered," Ruppenthal replied. Frank and Joe both leaned back in their seats. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Joe asked his brother.

  Frank nodded seriously. "I think so." Ruppenthal looked nervous. "There's a lot that a couple of young men can buy with ten thousand dollars," he said, eagerly looking from Frank to Joe. "I'd jump at this if I were your age!"

  "Well, we're not the jumping type, Mr. Ruppenthal," Frank said. "No deal."

  "Don't tell me—you don't think it's enough. right?" Ruppenthal's face became red with anger. He slapped his hand on his desk. "Greed! You're just like that spoiled little friend of yours. This is a museum, not a bank. I have no more to give — "

  "You missed the point," Joe said. "It's plenty of money. But you're bribing us to do something illegal. That's not the way we operate."

  "Let me tell you about illegal," Ruppenthal said, pointing a finger at Joe. "What Tessa Carpenter has done to me — that's illegal!"

  "We understand what you're saying, Mr. Ruppenthal," Frank said. "We understand that the museum needs the Carpenter Collection—much more than Tessa does. And I really hope you do find that agreement. If not, I'm afraid the best thing you can do is take your case to court — "

  Ruppenthal bolted up from his chair. "Out!" he shouted, pointing to the door. "Take yourselves out of my office! If you think I'm going to spend months in court while that girl destroys everything I've ever worked for, you're crazy!"

  Frank and Joe got up and walked toward the door. The slam of Ruppenthal's door echoed like a gunshot as the brothers exited into the hallway.

  "I guess we won't get any information from him," Joe said as he and Frank walked out of the museum, past a row of newspaper vending machines. "Imagine him trying to bribe us. He must be pretty desperate." He sighed. "That was a lot of money, though..."

  "Do I hear some second thoughts?" Frank asked as he put some change into the Bayport Times machine and pulled out a Sunday paper. "All I can say is, Ruppenthal is sleazy."

  "Yeah, but sleazy enough to try to kill Tessa? And do it by ruining a priceless statue? You saw the look on his face when he saw the thing was shattered, didn't you?"

  "It may have been an act, Joe. A sacrifice to remove himself from suspicion. He may either be trying to scare Tessa into giving it all back, or — "

  "If there's no more Tessa, the art would have to go back to the museum!"

  "Exactly. I think we ought to get home and see if we can dig up anything about Ruppenthal in the crime database."

  They jumped into the van, and Joe steered out of the parking lot. Frank settled in his seat and picked up the newspaper. Instantly his eyes lit on the headline.

  "Listen to this, Joe," he said. "It's the lead article: 'Curse or Coincidence? Carpenter Heiress Narrowly Misses Death After Touching Legendary Dagger.' "

  "I love a juicy story," Joe said. "Read it to me."

  " 'The cream of the area's rich younger set, was witness to a bizarre turn of events last night. at the Carpenter mansion in the Cliffside Heights ' section of Bayport. It happened at approximately eleven p. m., under the full moon, and no one who was there is likely to forget...' "

  "Oh boy, they're really milking it," said Joe.

  "Let's see — 'Several guests left, convinced that the horrible curse had indeed been brought to life. This opinion was echoed by a distraught Miss Carpenter, who was heard to say, "Am I going to have to live with the threat of death for the rest of my life?" Miss Carpenter agreed to grant the Times an exclusive interview today at the Cliffside Country Club — '"

  "That wasn't too smart," Joe interrupted. "We've got to convince her to stay away from the press. All we need are reporters tagging along on our investigation!"

  "Right," answered Frank. "And if there's a lot of publicity about this Borgia dagger nonsense, who knows what kinds of creeps will be after her — playing tricks, trying to 'cure' the curse, claiming to be descendants of the Borgias — "

  "One thing seems a little strange to me. You'd think Tessa would want to keep this whole thing quiet. I mean, for someone so — so — social, this kind of thing could make her very unpopular."

  Frank thought about that for a minute. "Maybe so. But I don't think she's the kind of person ever to say no to her name in print."

  Joe drove up to the Hardy's' rambling old Victorian house on a quiet street lined with maple trees in south Bayport. They parked and ran inside to their computerized crime lab, which also doubled as Frank's bedroom The sleek computer took up very little space, but it contained the most sophisticated crime-fighting software available.

  Frank flicked it on, and Joe pulled up a chair beside him. "Let's see ... " Frank murmured, "Rubin ... Ruck ... Ruggiero ... Ruppert." "Nothing," Joe said.

  "Well, Ruppenthal's clean — at least so far. Let's try Squinder." He punched a few more keys. "Spivak ... Spode ... Squantz ... ah! Here we are — Squinder!"

  Frank and Joe stared intensely at the screen as a short list of information appeared.

  Joe read parts of the list out loud: "Shoplifting a can of tuna fish, twenty years ago ... disturbing the peace with loud speechmaking, eleven years ago ... assaulting tow-truck operator who tried to remove limo from no-parking zone, two years ago. That's it."

  "Doesn't exactly seem like a candidate for murderers' row," Frank said.

  Just then their eyes were drawn to the window by the slam of a car door. They looked out to see Fenton Hardy running toward the front door.

  "What's up with Dad?" Joe asked.

  Within seconds, Fenton was up the stairs and at the door of Frank's room.

  "TUrn off the computer, boys," he said, breathless. "I just got a police report. I'm on a case myself, but I think you might be interested in this one. The report is from the Cliffside Country Club."

  "Something about Tessa Carpenter?" Frank asked.

  "You'd better get over there right away. She's been shot."

  Chapter 7

  Frank and Joe bolted outside and into the van. With a screech of tires, they sped eastward.

  Just past the Entering Cliffside Heights sign, the neighborhood changed dramatically. Neat, suburban houses gave way to a heavily wooded area. Joe hugged the road as it curved sharply.

  "I have a feeling this road was built for people who have no reason to hurry," Joe grumbled.

  Before long they saw a small, hand-painted sign that said CCC. It pointed up a dirt road to the left.

  "Not very flashy, are they?" Joe said as he turned.

  "Well, it is one of the most exclusive clubs in the state," Frank replied. "I guess they have no need to advertise."

  Just up the dirt road was a clearing and a circular driveway
. As they approached, a smiling man in a brown uniform stood in their path.

  Joe jammed on the brake and the man went around to the driver's side.

  "Easy, there," he said. "You're guests of ... ?"

  "Tessa Carpenter," Joe said quickly and gunned the van past the guard. He skidded to a stop in front of the clubhouse, a three-story stone mansion surrounded by lavish flower gardens.

  As they parked and jumped out, they heard the guard's voice behind them "Wait! You can't visit her now! Come back here!"

  The brothers heard voices and followed them around the building to a large, open meadow surrounded by trees. In the middle of the field was a crowd of people, some of them police officers. Near this group a jittery horse was being calmed by a man in jeans. And circling around the crowd, taking notes, was the same society columnist they had seen at Tessa's party.

  "Excuse us," Frank said repeatedly as he and Joe worked their way to the center of the crowd. There they saw Tessa, lying on the ground and sobbing. Kneeling beside her, Dr. Lansdale and Harley were swabbing her bloody forehead with a damp cloth.

  "Is she all right?" Joe asked.

  Harley barely looked up. He said nothing. But Dr. Lansdale smiled cheerfully. "Ah, hello, Frank and Joe! I had no idea you were members," she said. "I'm afraid Tessa had a rather, a nasty fall. Nothing more than a scraped forehead, fortunately."

  "There's more to the story than that," Harley said. "Somebody tried to kill her." "I don't know what happened," Tessa said, speaking with the loud, shaky voice of someone who has just had the scare of a lifetime. "I was just riding my horse — th - that interview had gotten me so upset and I needed to relax — and — and then I heard it — the shot." "Were you hit?" asked Frank. "N - no, but my horse got so upset he — he freared up on his hind legs and threw me off!"

  "Could you see who did it?" Joe asked. "No! I told the police — "

  Tessa was interrupted by a scream in the distance.

  All eyes turned toward a commotion in the woods. Three police officers, two men and a woman, were emerging. One of the men carried a silver-plated revolver. The other two officers were dragging a kicking teenager. "It's Callie!" Joe said.

  "Impossible," whispered Frank, frozen in disbelief.

  "Get those handcuffs away from me!" they heard her scream. "Don't you understand? I'm on your side!"

  "Sure, kid," answered the policewoman. "You just happened to be illegally trespassing in the woods with a gun when it went off, right? And now you can't help but resist arrest."

  Callie's eyes lit up when she saw Frank and Joe.

  "Tell them who I am, Frank!" The policewoman did a. double-take. "Well, it isn't the Hardy brothers," she said, smirking "Is this one of your strange detective methods?"

  "It's okay, Officer Novack. She's — uh, part of our investigation team," Frank said.

  "That's what she told us," the policewoman said as Callie defiantly threw aside the two officers' arms and brushed herself off.

  Suddenly two country club guards pushed their way through the crowd. "There they are!" one of them yelled. "They just drove past me! Seize them, officers!"

  By now the crowd was buzzing with confusion. "All right, let's go back to our businesses," Officer Novack said, loudly. "Ms. Carpenter is unhurt, and these three young people are private detectives."

  One by one, the club members began to drift away. "Thanks, Officer Novack," Frank said a little while later.

  "Well, we've gotten our report. Ms. Shaw claims that she found the gun in the woods while keeping an eye on Ms. Carpenter. At this point all we can do is take the gun to headquarters for analysis. But you can be sure we'll be in touch — especially with you, young lady." She shot a look at Callie. "If your story doesn't hold up, you'll be brought in for questioning." As the officers walked toward their squad cars in the parking lot, Frank leaned down to Tessa. 'All right, now you know who we really are. We'd like to help you out, since it looks as though one or two people are after your life — "

  Tessa flung her arms around Frank. "Oh, I knew you were in some line of work like this. I'm glad."

  Frank uneasily pulled himself away and said, 'We'll need access to your house, first of all — " "I have a perfect solution," Tessa answered. "Be my bodyguards, both of you." Frank and Joe were silent. "I have the money to pay you. Don't you see? I need protection, and this way the two of you can pick up all kinds of clues. You'll live on the mansion grounds, in the servants' cottage!"

  At that suggestion, Callie looked as if she could kill.

  "Uh — we'll think about it," Frank said.

  "The only thing to worry about now is how to get you inside to my office so I can take care of you," Dr. Lansdale said.

  Joe, Harley, and Dr. Lansdale helped Tessa up and supported her as she walked toward the clubhouse. Frank and Callie followed a few yards behind.

  "She won't stop at anything to get her hands on you," Callie said to Frank.

  "Wait a minute! First things first," Frank said. "Just what were you doing in the woods, anyway?"

  Callie looked away. "After you and Joe left for the museum, I got a paper and read that Tessa was going to be here today. So I decided to tail her and — well, investigate!"

  "Investigate? Look Callie — Joe and I are thel pros. You can't do this on your own!"

  "Well, I don't agree! After all, there should be someone on this case who isn't in love with Tessa!" She gave Frank an accusing look. "Anyway, I sneaked over a fence and into the woods. As I was looking for the clubhouse, I heard a horse galloping along a dirt pathway. Sure enough, it was Tessa. I watched her ride into that field, when all of a sudden there was this gunshot.. - I could tell Tessa wasn't hit, because the shot had come from farther down in the woods. But by the time I got there, there was no one — only that silver-plated revolver."

  "Just like the one in Squinder's old cottage," Frank said.

  By now they had caught up to the others. Dr. Lansdale was pointing to a spot in one of the gardens. A large patch of soil had been turned over, and hoses, bottles, and seed packets littered the ground. "I think the arsenic has finally gotten rid of the weeds, Tessa," she said. "And I may actually plant some tomatoes this year!"

  "That's great, Aunt Harriet, but I really need to lie down!" Tessa whined.

  They continued walking into the clubhouse.

  Lansdale led them into her ground-floor room - a modest room with a sink, a chair, a desk, a cot, and several shelves full of supplies. Tessa moaned as she was set down on the cot. "Oh! My head is killing me!"

  "Well, you should have picked a softer place to land, sweetheart!" Dr. Lansdale said with a laugh. "Here, let me get you a mild pain-killer."

  Dr. Lansdale reached for a clear plastic bottle on one of the shelves.

  "That's it, just relax," she said, not looking as she took a couple of pills out. "These will do the trick temporarily. Harley, be a dear and get a glass of water for Tessa."

  Joe looked around the room. Harley was filling a huge glass of water. Frank was propping pillows behind her head. And Callie seemed disgusted with the whole situation.

  Just then something caught Joe's eye. Just as Tessa was about to put the pills in her mouth, he picked up the bottle.

  His eyes popped open as he read the label: Arsenic!

  Chapter 8

  There was no time for words. Joe leapt across the room and swiped at Tessa's arm. The pill went flying into the air and fell harmlessly to ground.

  Tessa shrieked as Joe hit her arm. Instantly he felt a hand at the back of his collar.

  "Just what do you think you're doing, pal?' Harley said. He drew back a fist.

  "Saving her life," Joe said. He held out the Bottle of arsenic for everyone to see.

  The room fell silent, except for a gasp from Tessa.

  "I don't believe it," she said finally, her face as white as the sheet on her cot.

  "Oh, my word!" Dr. Lansdale exclaimed, taking the bottle from Joe. "How could I have done this?"
<
br />   "What's a bottle of arsenic doing in here any way?" Frank asked.

  "My goodness, my goodness, what indeed?" Dr. Lansdale said, shaking her head. "I have told myself time and again that something like this might happen. I buy these from a drug company and then dissolve them in water to use as a weed-killer. I sometimes store them in here. And with my eyesight the way it's gotten these days ... Oh, honey, how can you ever forgive me?"

  "I - it's not you, Aunt Harriet," Tessa said, with tears welling in her eyes. "There's something else in control here, something bigger than all of us."

  "Whatever do you mean, sweetheart?" Dr. Lansdale said.

  "It's the Borgia curse, I know it!" Tessa was practically screaming by now. "I'm doomed! There's no place I can be safe!"

  "Shh, it's all going to be okay," said Frank. "It was a simple accident. There are no such things as ancient curses. This is the twentieth century."

  "The boy is right, darling," Dr. Lansdale said. "I'm so, so sorry. From now on I will never make such a careless mistake. I think the best thing for your nerves right now would be a nice, long nap."

  She delicately helped Tessa lie back and popped a pillow under her head. "That's it. Harley and I will be here to watch over you, while I ask our guests to leave, okay?"

  Almost immediately Tessa's eyes began to flutter shut from nervous exhaustion. Frank, Joe, and Callie tiptoed out the office door, waving goodbye to Dr. Lansdale and Harley.

  "I'm sorry, I just don't trust her," Callie said as they walked out of the clubhouse. "The old-lady routine is too convenient. After all, she's a professional — a doctor would never do anything like that!"

  "I don't know, Callie," Joe said. "She seemed so upset. Besides, she must be pushing seventy or seventy-five. I really think she's a little forgetful and careless."

  "Besides," Frank added, "if she were really after Tessa, wouldn't it be a little obvious to knock her off in front of four witnesses?"