Frank picked up the adoption file and handed it to Chet.
"Look at it."
Chet opened the file. "Hey! That's me," he said as he spotted the computerized image of himself. Then he read further.
A moment later he jumped up and flung the file at Frank.
"This is garbage!" he shouted.
"I agree," Frank replied. He reshuffled the file. "The copyright dates are all wrong."
"What?" Joe didn't like it when Frank kept clues from him.
"When we first looked at these," Frank began, holding up the file, "I noticed that the copyright date on the forms was from last year."
"So?" Chet asked, still pressing the ice against his chin.
"So, if your adoption had taken place years ago, the copyright on the forms would be from then or earlier." Frank let the file fall on the coffee table. "You've been set up."
Chet's eyes narrowed. Joe could tell his friend was thinking revenge. "Who did it?"
"Don West," Joe answered.
"We think it's Don West," Frank corrected.
Joe squinted at Frank in disbelief. He said in a low voice, "Who else? You were positive an hour ago."
Frank returned Joe's glare but remained silent.
"Don had access to the vital records department at city hall," Joe rattled off. "The pictures we found at Leonard Mock's apartment only go back three years - "
"About the same time Don West moved to Bayport," Chet finished.
Joe continued, "And this morning, when Don showed up here with the adoption file, he had a large bruise on his cheek on the same spot where I hit Bobby Mock last night." Joe paused. "So what's your problem, Frank?"
"It's too neat."
"You should talk about things being too neat, Mr. Clean."
"There's no such thing as the perfect crime or the perfect suspect," Frank replied calmly.
"Yeah, right. What's that from? Frank Hardy's Guide to Detective Work?" Joe spit out.
"I'm just saying we need to be cautious. First we have to find Callie."
"What did Mangieri mean about the big bang theory?" Chet asked.
"I don't know," Frank answered.
"Find Don West, and I bet we find Callie," Joe insisted.
"Maybe," Frank replied. "But if we go after West, and West isn't Mock, then we could be wasting time while Callie is - " Frank's voice broke off.
Joe and Chet exchanged a quick glance. There was no need for Frank to finish his sentence.
"One thing's for sure," Chet said. "We all know Mangieri's involved."
Frank's and Joe's heads jerked toward Chet.
"Leave it to Chet to point out the obvious," Joe said with a smile.
"Chet's right," Frank said. "We find Mangieri, and I bet we find Callie."
"And Bobby Mock," Joe added.
"Why is Mangieri even involved?" Chet asked.
"Money," Joe replied. "I'd still like to know how he got out of jail, what kind of deal he cut."
"That's a question Con Riley can answer," Frank answered.
"I say we find Mangieri and do a little knuckle tap dance on his head." Chet stood to his full height. "I owe him a dance or two." He handed Frank the towel and ice and headed for the door. "Well?" he said as he stood with the door held open.
"Right with you, buddy," Joe said with a smile.
The trio jumped back into the black van. While Joe drove, Frank looked over the newspaper clippings. Besides being old and faded, they weren't very good photos. Frank pulled a small magnifying glass from the crime kit he kept under his portable laptop computer in the back of the van. He moved the glass slowly over the photos. After he had gone over each one carefully, he started over again.
"What are you looking for?" Chet asked over Frank's shoulder.
"A young kid."
"Why?"
"Mock was so attached to his son that it's possible he had him attend the trial. I'm trying to see if I can find a young kid in these newsclippings."
"Hey, you two going to help me look or what?"
They had reached the downtown area, and Joe was driving up and down streets where they shouldn't have been. The area was clearly posted as being off limits to keep looters away.
Chet joined Joe in the front while Frank stayed in the back.
"What's Frank doing back there?" Joe asked.
They were just about to turn onto Fifth Street when a siren pierced the air. Joe brought the van to a jarring halt as a police cruiser pulled up behind them.
A metallic voice boomed from the cruiser's speakers.
"All right. Step out of the van. With your hands in the open."
Frank, Joe, and Chet moved slowly from the van, their hands held open, palms out.
"Now stand against the van, legs spread. And don't move."
"Officer - " Joe began.
He was jerked to one side and then slammed against the side of the van. He was ready to turn when he heard the click of a revolver and felt the cold steel of a barrel against his neck.
"Freeze!"
"All right, boys," began a second cop, "what are you doing here? This area is off limits."
"We were looking for a friend, Officer Stewart," Frank said, recognizing the slow drawl of the second policeman.
"Frank Hardy?" Officer Stewart turned Frank around. "Joe? Chet?"
"Yes," Frank said. "And we are looking for a friend."
"Tell your partner to ease up," Joe said.
"Cool it, Bud. I know these kids."
The first officer slowly let the hammer down on his .38, holstered it, and then walked back to the police cruiser.
Joe breathed for the first time in moments.
"Who you looking for?" Officer Stewart asked.
"Don West," Joe said quickly.
"We haven't seen him for a couple of hours, and we got worried," Frank added.
"The city manager's son?"
"Yes," Joe said.
"Haven't seen him," Officer Stewart said.
"Perhaps he made it home by now. We'll check there." Frank didn't want to hang around chatting with Officer Stewart while Callie was still in danger.
"I suggest all you boys head for home," Officer Stewart said. "The next cop who stops you may mistake you for looters, and you'll end up in jail."
"We'll be careful," Joe assured him.
"Hey, Stewart. Stop them. Chief Collig wants us to bring them in," Bud yelled from the cruiser, the mike of the police radio in his hand.
"Quick! In the van!" Frank shouted. He pushed Chet into the van, jumped in after him, and slammed the door shut.
Joe hopped into the driver's seat, threw the van into reverse, and peeled out. He made a hairpin turn in reverse, threw the van into first, and sped away.
"What's going on?" Chet demanded. He lost his balance in the turn and fell against the rear couch.
"Chief Collig threatened to put us into protective custody if he caught us working on this case," Frank explained.
"No one's behind us," Joe said as he checked the side-view mirror.
"We need a different set of wheels," Frank said. "You can bet Chief Collig will put out an all-points bulletin on this van."
"Aunt Gertrude's car," Joe suggested.
"No. I don't want to take a chance on the police being at our house looking for us."
"Hey! They won't be looking for my car," Chet said.
"Your car?" Joe didn't want to hurt his best friend's feelings, but Chet's car was little better than a junker. Joe had spent too many weekends under the hood of the sedan trying to keep it running. "But it's out of gas."
"No problem," Chet said. "We can siphon the gas from the van's reserve tank."
"Great idea," Joe said with a roll of his eyes.
Minutes later they pulled up behind Chet's car, which sat on a side road. At least, Joe thought, we won't be in traffic where a cop might see us.
Joe pulled a three-foot section of hose from the back of the van, unlocked the gas cap, shoved the hose down the tan
k, and took a deep breath. He didn't relish the thought of tasting gasoline.
"Here's the can." Frank placed a five-gallon gas can next to Joe.
"Thanks." But Joe didn't sound thankful. "Where's Chet?"
"He's rummaging around in his trunk for something," Frank replied.
"Yuck!" Joe spat gasoline as he put the hose into the gas can.
"Hey, Joe, I found it!" Chet dashed up to Joe.
"Found what?" Joe asked.
"The siphon hose." Chet held up a small hose that had a hand pump on one end - a pump that could manually create suction and drain the reserve tank.
"You mean I drank gasoline and you had a siphon pump all this time?" Joe's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed.
"Well, sure. Dad bought this for me in case I needed gas from one of the other cars."
"Great," Joe mumbled.
The gas can filled, and Chet poured the gas into his car. He hopped in the front seat while Joe took off the air filter and primed the carburetor by pouring in a small amount of gasoline. He stepped back. After a couple of tries, Chet's car sputtered to life.
"Hop in, guys!"
Frank jumped in the back while Joe slid into the front.
"Where to?" Chet pulled the car away from the curb.
Frank sat silently. All the time Joe and Chet had been putting gas into the sedan, he was thinking about the videotape - Mangieri and Bobby Mock attacking Callie and Chet. Then Mangieri's face leering out at them, telling them that Callie would be a part of the big bang theory. Frank had always thought Mangieri was barely this side of crazy, but his last remark just didn't make sense.
"Frank!" Joe reached back and tapped Frank on the knee.
"Where to?" Chet repeated.
"What would Mangieri be doing with Bobby Mock?" Frank asked.
"Birds of a feather," Chet replied. "Creeps will hang around with creeps."
"You may be more right than you realize, Chet." Frank sat on the edge of the backseat. "Stop at the next convenience store."
"Why?" Joe asked.
"So we can do what we should have done in the first place," Frank replied. "Look up Mangieri's address in the phone book."
***
"Stop here," Frank said minutes later as Chet steered his sedan into a dead-end street in a rundown part of town.
"Why? I thought you said his house was in the middle of the block," Chet said as he slowed the car.
"I don't want them to see us pulling up," Frank replied.
Mangieri lived on the west side of Bayport in a low-rent area. All the houses on the dead end were semidetached. One wall was shared by two houses. Frank knew from the address that Mangieri's house would be in the middle of the block.
The trio got out of the car and silently shut their doors.
"Walk close to the other houses so they can't see us coming," Frank suggested.
Moments later they stood at the side of Mangieri's house.
"He's in the next half," Frank said. "Joe, you and Chet check the back in case they try to escape. I'll check the front door."
Frank moved silently and swiftly to Mangieri's front door. A screen door covered it. It was old, and the hinges were rusted. He knew he couldn't make a surprise entrance. He glanced in through the front window. Someone was sitting in a chair, his back to the door. In the dimness of the room, Frank couldn't tell if it was Mangieri or Mock.
"No back door," Chet announced as he walked up behind Frank.
Frank jumped back. His skin rippled with goose bumps. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Chet. And keep it down. Someone's inside." Then he noticed that Joe was missing. "Where's Joe?"
"He's checking out a back window. The glass was broken. He said he would enter through the back room and meet you inside."
"I wish he'd check with me first!" Frank had never liked Joe's impulsiveness. They should have worked out a plan of attack. Now he'd have to improvise and hope no one got hurt.
"I'm going to open this screen door real fast," Frank whispered to Chet. "You think you can kick the front door open?"
"No sweat." Chet stepped back and took a stance like a professional field goal kicker.
Frank would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious. Instead, he only shook his head and peered back in through the window.
He saw Joe's head peek around the corner of an inner room. That was what Frank had been waiting for. He pulled open the screen door, and it creaked loudly.
"Now!" he barked to Chet.
Chet planted his foot next to the door knob, then kicked hard. The door groaned and snapped open, the knob and its lock falling to the ground.
Frank dashed in and confronted the figure sitting in the chair.
"Frank!" Joe shouted. "It's Callie." Frank would have been relieved to find his girlfriend, but the digital timer on the bomb that was ticking at her feet showed that in thirty seconds they would all be dead.
Chapter 10
"DON'T take another step," Joe warned.
Joe pointed. Frank could see that the bomb was set to explode by any of three methods: the timer, a small, almost invisible trip wire, or if Callie moved.
Frank's eyes met Callie's, and he could see the terror that stared back at him.
He stepped over the trip wire.
"Don't move, Callie," he said calmly.
Twenty seconds.
"It's motion sensitive," Joe said.
"I saw it," Frank replied.
After dealing with terrorists, Frank knew enough about bombs to recognize the secondary fuse that hung in the center of a metal washer. If the fuse made contact, an electrical signal would surge through the mechanism, thus exploding the bomb.
Fifteen seconds.
"Okay, Callie," Frank began - he knew that talking to Callie would calm her - "I don't have time to untie you. I'm going to disconnect the primary wire going to the timer." Frank moved as he talked.
Ten seconds.
He tugged as gently as he could. The wire wouldn't budge.
"I think it's soldered together." Frank kept his voice calm.
Joe shoved his pocket knife between Frank and the bomb.
"No time." Frank had to keep his voice calm or Callie might panic.
Five seconds.
He clamped his fingers on the secondary fuse and lifted it through the metal washer - quickly but with a calm steadiness.
Three.
He tore the tape and the bomb from Callie's legs.
Two.
In one smooth motion he flung the bomb through the closed window in a perfect spiral, then covered Callie. The bomb shattered the glass as it flew outside.
Joe and Chet hit the floor.
First there was a bright burst of blinding white light, followed by a deafening explosion. Glass shards flew into the room, then dirt and dust.
A split second later the midafternoon day was calm once again.
"Callie!" Frank finished tearing the tape from around her legs. He gently pulled the tape from her mouth.
"Oh, Frank!" she cried.
Frank ripped off the tape that bound her wrists. Callie jumped up and threw her arms around his neck.
"Frank! I thought I was dead!" She continued to hug Frank.
"You're okay, Callie. You're okay." Frank put his arms around her. "Nothing's ever going to happen to my Number One Girl."
Before Frank had time to react, Callie kissed him hard.
"Enough already," Joe grumbled. "Let's get out of here before the cops arrive."
Frank attempted to move, but Callie hung on.
"Don't let go," she said, terror in her voice.
"We've got to go," Frank said gently. "I'll explain later."
Chet was already in the car, its engine revving. Several people from the neighborhood were gathering around, looking first at the small crater in the front yard, then at the blown-out window, and last at the four teenagers peeling away in the sedan.
Chet and Joe were in front. Callie sat close to Frank in back, her hand h
olding his in a firm grip.
"The police have orders to take us in," Frank explained.
"Arrest you?" Callie was still shaken, and there was a tremor in her voice.
"Not arrest us. Chief Collig doesn't want us on this case." Frank put his arm around Callie's shoulders. "Someone is out to kill Dad - and our friends."
"Wh - why?"
"To settle an old score. A blood law."
"A what?" Chet asked from the front seat.
Joe spoke up. "In Anglo-Saxon days they didn't have police or courts or jails. They relied on what they called 'blood law.' It's also known as 'an eye for eye.' Retribution."
"But wh - who - wh - what - " Callie held back a sob.
Frank quickly explained about Leonard and Bobby Mock, then about the videotape.
"Do you remember anything after Mock and Mangieri kidnapped you?"
Callie took a breath. She had to control her breathing while she spoke. "I - just remember seeing Chet fighting with Mangieri." She sobbed. "Then I tried to help. Someone grabbed me from behind - "
"Bobby Mock," Joe added.
"I guess."
"Did you get a good look at his face? Was it Don West?" Frank asked.
"Don West? I - I don't know. I was choking. I couldn't really see. I don't even remember tearing the mask off." Callie gasped. "You don't really think that Don is Bobby Mock."
"The evidence is pointing that way."
"Poor Liz," Callie said.
"What happened at Mangieri's?" Frank asked.
"When I came to, I was in that chair. Mangieri was standing in front of me with that bomb. He said Bobby had made it. Then he set the timer and left."
"What did he set the timer for?" Frank asked.
"Five minutes. Why?"
"That tells us how much of a head start he had," Joe answered.
"Why would he be foolish enough to kill Callie in his own apartment?" Chet asked.
"That's what's bothering me," Frank replied.
"Why not? It makes sense to me," Joe said with a knowing air.
"Explain it." Frank was skeptical.
"It makes sense if Mangieri is really Bobby Mock."
Frank was even more skeptical. "Why Mangieri and not Don West?"
"Mangieri has disliked us from the day he moved into Bayport over four years ago. Besides, before he got kicked out of school, he was a photographer for the yearbook," Joe answered.
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