“That’s it, Dad!” Frank said. “Dimitri told Cole that Gerrold wanted to get out of here for a while.”
“Let’s fly to Greece!” Joe urged.
“Good. I’ll be your guide,” Evan said.
Mr. Hardy nodded. “Make reservations right away. I’ll wire Evan’s parents and tell them you’re coming.”
All planes to Athens were filled for the day, but there were seats available for the following day on three flights.
The young detectives decided to travel separately so they could cover all three. They inquired whether Dimitri or Gerrold were booked on any of the planes, but the reply was negative.
“But that doesn’t mean anything,” Mr. Hardy said. “They could have used aliases. Watch carefully for them.”
The boys made their preparations. Evan’s flight took off first, with Joe’s following. Frank’s plane left in the evening. When it was airborne, Frank got up and moved around slowly, studying faces.
None of the passengers seemed to resemble Gerrold or Dimitri. But then Frank noticed a man fingering worry beads. He had no mustache, but he did have dark hair, and his stocky build looked like the Greek’s!
Frank spoke to a stewardess. “Isn’t that man over there named Dimitri? I think I know him. But I don’t want to make a mistake.”
“I’ll find out for you,” the girl said and went over to the man. When she returned she said, “Yes, his name is Dimitri.”
Frank decided to confront him at once and walked over to his seat. “You might as well give up now, Dimitri,” the boy said. “I’m going to tell the captain that there’s a fugitive on board!”
The man rose and looked at Frank quizzically. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re tied up with Gerrold and Kitten Cole!”
The passenger laughed loudly. “Listen, you’ve gone off your rocker. You’re talking Greek to me.”
Suddenly it dawned on Frank that the man spoke English without the slightest accent. Could he be wrong?
“Your name is Dimitri, isn’t it?” Frank asked.
“That’s right,” the man replied. “Dimitri Jones from Keokuk, Iowa.”
Frank was tongue-tied. “B-but I thought you were Greek!”
“Half Greek,” the man said. “My mother came from Thessaly. That’s how I got the name Dimitri.”
Frank felt his face grow hot from embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I took you for somebody else. Please excuse me.”
“I think you read too many detective stories,” Mr. Jones said, shaking his head.
Frank slumped back into his seat. “Boy, what a boo-boo,” he thought. “I’m glad Joe and Evan weren’t here!”
Suddenly two strong arms grasped him from behind. They locked around his head so tightly that Frank could not utter a sound!
CHAPTER XVII
Masquerade
FRANK struggled but the grip grew tighter. Suddenly the viselike hold relaxed and he heard a familiar chuckle.
Wheeling around, Frank looked up into the jolly moonface of Chet Morton!
Chet moved forward and lowered his hefty frame into the seat next to Frank’s.
He grinned broadly. “Frank Hardy supersleuth. I knew you’d be in trouble without me!”
“All right!” Frank groaned. “And how did you get here just at the right time?”
“Your guiding angel sent me. Actually it was Aunt Gertrude. I phoned your house and she told me you were coming to New York. The school had planned an optional field trip for this week and I begged off. Came into town and spoke to your father. He told me about your trip. It sounded exciting so I rushed to the airport and almost missed the plane. Well, anyway, here I am.”
“I don’t believe it! You spent all that dough for the fare just to join us?”
“Besides having the important mission to look out for you. Also, I’m making a documentary film.”
“No kidding. On what?”
“Dumb detectives. Oh, no. Grecian beauties,” Chet corrected himself as Frank gave him a playful punch.
“For the Greek beauties you broke away from Thelma?”
Chet winced. “Frank, to tell the truth, I was glad to get out of there.”
“How come?”
“She wanted to get engaged!”
Frank doubled over with laughter.
“Anyway, she fed me too much,” Chet went on. “Look at this!” He patted his well-rounded midsection. In the next breath he said, “When’s dinner?”
Frank sighed in mock despair. “There you go again. Now listen to me. This whole thing is rather serious.” He brought his pal up to date on the latest events. “Chet, we’ll have to scrutinize everybody on this plane.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Chet said. “I’ll start my documentary right here with the passengers. That way I can look at everybody real close.”
Chet took his camera and went up and down the left aisle, filming short footage of passengers he thought looked interesting. Meanwhile, Frank strolled down the right aisle and carefully scrutinized each person.
Chet deviated from his task for a moment to smile at a pretty girl. Then his eye caught the middle-aged man beside her. He had gray sideburns and light hair.
Seeing Chet’s camera, he quickly held a magazine before his face. Chet was alerted immediately. He made his way to Frank and told him about the bashful passenger.
“This guy really acted suspicious, Frank!”
“Some people are camera shy,” Frank said. “Did you say he was middle-aged?”
“Yes.”
Frank pulled out Gerrold’s picture. “Is that him?”
“No. He’s quite pale and has light hair.”
“Then it’s not Gerrold. And it doesn’t sound like Dimitri either. But I’ll take a look on my way back.”
Chet returned to the man. The girl beside him had left her seat and Chet slipped into it. He tried to start a conversation.
“Great flight we’re having,” he said.
The man mumbled something unintelligible.
“I’m from Bayport,” Chet went on. “Where do you live?”
The man coughed, put a handkerchief to his face, rose from his seat and made his way to one of the rest rooms.
Chet joined Frank. “That guy is definitely suspicious,” he declared, and told of his attempt to make a conversation.
“We’ll watch him,” Frank decided
Twenty minutes passed before the man finally appeared. Frank and Chet stood in the aisle and observed him take his seat.
“He’s built just like Saffel,” Frank said. “And his hair color is the same. But Leon’s not that old!”
“He could be in disguise.”
“Let’s sit down. They’re just beginning to serve dinner.”
Frank took the seat next to the suspect, while Chet established himself on the other side of the aisle. Not a word was said.
Frank observed the man from the corner of his eye. He sniffed and seemed nervous. A stewardess slid trays of hot food before the passengers. Beef filet, mashed potatoes, and carrots. Frank picked up his fork and began to eat.
The suspect sat stiffly. He ate a small piece of meat and a dab of mashed potatoes. The carrots he pushed off onto his bread plate.
Something flashed through Frank’s mind. Leon Saffel couldn’t stand carrots!
“Well,” Frank thought to himself, “here we go again.” He took a deep breath, then said to the man in a low voice, “Quit playing games, Leon!”
A fork clattered onto the tray. Saffel’s hands shook from fear and fatigue.
“All right, I give up!”
Chet’s eyes bulged. “Holy crow! It’s really Leon!”
“In disguise,” Frank said. “You had us fooled for a while. Now tell me, why did you get mixed up with that Gerrold gang?”
Saffel sighed. “You really embarrassed me at Bayport Airport the first time we met. I wanted to get even. Dimitri saw me smash one
of your cameras at the falls. He approached me later and asked me to help him harass you guys.”
“Did he tell you why he was after us?”
“No. I didn’t realize how serious the whole thing was until they made me steal the dynamite and blow up your bikes. I took off after that and went back to New York, but they found me and threatened to kill me. I knew they weren’t fooling, so here I am.”
Frank remembered Dimitri saying to Cole in the motel room the kid had high-tailed it back to New York and that Gerrold had found him. “It seems Saffel’s telling the truth,” the boy said to himself.
Chet addressed Leon. “Did you follow the Hardys and Evan to Santa Fe from Hunt?”
Leon nodded. “I wore this disguise. Cole and Dimitri took another flight and we met out there.”
“All right, I give up!” Saffel said.
“Who ran over our cycles in Taos?” Frank asked.
“Kitten Cole did. He started the truck.”
“I thought so. Now, what are you doing here?”
“I don’t really know. All Gerrold and Dimitri told me was to go to Greece and meet them there.”
“Where are they now?”
“They took a private plane out of Teterboro, New Jersey, and flew to Bermuda. From there they planned to go to London, and from London to Athens.”
“Were you with them when they stole the helmet from Joe?” Frank asked.
Leon nodded. “Sorry Dimitri clouted your brother.” He shrugged wearily. “Look, I’ll do anything if you can get me out of this!”
“We’ll try,” Frank promised. “Where are you supposed to meet them?”
“Outside the arrivals building at Athens Airport. There’s a line of taxis and I’m to walk toward the end of the line. That’s all they told me.”
Frank had an idea. “Listen, Chet, how about you taking Leon’s place? You can put on his disguise and get away with it, at least for a little while. You two have about the same build. We’ll follow you, and when you need help, give us a signal. Okay?”
“Sure. I’ll try anything,” Chet agreed.
It was early the next afternoon when the huge jet descended toward Athens International Airport. Chet had donned Leon’s disguise and fixed up his face with make-up Saffel had in his bag.
“Now you know what you’re going to look like in a few years,” Frank needled his chum.
The plane landed, and the next twenty minutes were taken up by passport control and customs. Finally they walked out of the arrivals building. A long row of taxis stood ready.
Chet, his movie camera over one shoulder, strode to the end of the line. Frank followed, with Leon behind him at a safe distance.
Suddenly the door of the taxi next to the last swung open, an arm reached out, grabbed Chet and dragged him inside. As Frank and Leon raced toward the vehicle, it took off with a burst of speed!
CHAPTER XVIII
Sympathetic Vanides
MOMENTARILY stunned by the turn of events, Frank stood helpless as the taxi sped away with Chet. Then he beckoned to Leon, and the two got into another waiting cab. Frank told the driver to follow the getaway car.
The man turned around and asked Frank to repeat his instructions.
“Get that guy! Hurry! Follow him!” Frank said.
But the driver only shrugged. “Which hotel, sir?”
“No, no. I want you to—”
The other taxi was out of sight by now. Frank tried to hide his frustration. Resigned, he reached in his pocket, pulled out the address that Evan had given him, and showed it to the driver. He nodded, smiled, and started the car.
Evan’s family had an apartment near the center of the city. When Frank and Leon arrived there, Joe and Evan were the only ones home. They gasped in amazement when they saw Leon. “Where did you get him?” Joe blurted out.
Frank told about the capture on the plane, and Leon apologized again for what had happened in the past.
“All right, forget it,” Joe said. “I’m glad you’re on our side now.”
“That’s the good news,” Frank said. “Are you ready for the bad?”
“Oh, oh,” Joe said. “Let’s have it!”
“It’s about Chet.”
“Was he hurt at school?” Evan asked with a worried look.
“No. He was kidnapped at Athens Airport.”
“What?”
When Frank had given the details, Evan quickly telephoned the police and gave a description of Chet. He also mentioned the fact that he carried a movie camera. The police promised they would contact all taxis in the city and be on the lookout for the kidnappers.
Evan also mentioned that Gerrold was a known gangster in the United States and the officer thanked him for the information. He promised to get in touch with them immediately if he had any leads.
It was five o’clock when Evan’s parents arrived, surprised to find visitors. They had been away for the weekend and had not received Mr. Hardy’s cablegram.
Mr. and Mrs. Pandropolos were gracious people and welcomed their guests warmly. They were immediately apprised of all that had happened.
“Oh, how terrible!” Mrs. Pandropolos said when she heard about Chet. “Have you called Uncle Nick yet?”
“No,” Evan replied. “We were keeping the line free in case the police should call.”
Just then the phone rang. Evan snatched it from its cradle. He listened, then spoke briefly in Greek. Finally he hung up.
“The police think they have a clue!” he said excitedly. “A cab driver found a movie camera on the floor of his taxi and turned it in. We are supposed to go over right away and see if we can identify it.”
Leon remained behind while Frank, Joe, and Evan took a taxi to headquarters. With Evan as their spokesman, they introduced themselves and a lieutenant showed them the camera.
“It’s Chet’s, all right,” Joe said. “See, here’s the dent where the rock hit it.”
Frank said to Evan, “Ask the officer to have the film developed. Chet might have left a clue.”
The officer agreed. While the boys waited, the film was removed from the camera and quickly processed in the police laboratory. Then the lieutenant put it in a projector and showed it on a small screen.
First appeared the faces of the airplane passengers, including Leon Saffel holding up the magazine. Next came a series of disconnected shots. Several frames showed blurred buildings. This was followed by clear footage, revealing two close-up profiles.
“Dimitri and Gerrold!” Frank cried out. “Now we know for sure they kidnapped Chet!”
The last shot focused on the ruin of an ancient arch.
“That’s Hadrian’s Gate,” Evan said. “One of the famous landmarks of Athens.”
“What do you make of that?” Joe asked Frank.
“It’s probably where they got out of the taxi. And Chet, the fox, left his camera on the floor. The question is, where did they go from there?”
The lieutenant promised to continue the search. “We will alert police all over the country in case the kidnappers try to flee,” he declared.
The boys thanked him and left. They decided to go to Hadrian’s Gate first thing in the morning to see if they could pick up the trail.
After breakfast the next day Evan’s parents left for work in the government offices. Leon, who had come down with a bad cold, stayed in the apartment, while Frank, Joe, and Evan set out to Hadrian’s Gate.
It stood on one side of a heavily trafficked street not far from Evan’s house. The Greek boy explained that it had been built in ancient times to separate the Greek and Roman settlements in the city.
The boys looked around. Across the street Frank spied an auto rental agency. “Hey!” he said. “Maybe they rented a car and took off into the mountains.”
They waited for the light to change, then raced across the street and into the agency. A pretty girl greeted them cordially.
“Ah, Americans,” she said. “You would like a compact car?”
“No,” Frank said, and explained what they were looking for. He pulled out Gerrold’s photo. “Did this man come in here yesterday and rent a car from you?”
She scrutinized the picture. “He came in the afternoon and took a tan Fiat.”
“Was anyone with him?” Joe asked.
“Two men waited outside in a taxi.”
“We have to catch up with these men,” Evan said. “Could you give us the license number of their car?”
The girl looked it upon a voucher. “But I don’t know where they went,” she said.
“Did the man ask for a map?” Frank inquired.
“Yes, he did.”
“Try to remember,” Frank urged, “if he mentioned anything about his plans.”
The girl frowned in deep thought. “He spread the map out over here. Ah, yes, I do remember. He followed the national highway with his finger. And I believe he indicated Delphi.”
“Thank you very much!” Evan said. “You’ve been a great help.”
The boys were elated when they left the rental agency. They took a taxi back to Evan’s house and from there relayed the information to the police.
Minutes later the doorbell rang. The caller was Nicholas Pandropolos, Evan’s famous uncle. He was a tall, portly man with a high forehead, rugged face, and a handshake to match. He was very much upset over Chet’s disappearance.
Evan told him about the Delphi clue and asked, “Could we use your car, Uncle Nick? We want to follow Gerrold.”
“Of course,” Uncle Nick said and looked at Leon. “I think you should stay here until the criminals are caught. You might be their next target.”
Leon nodded gratefully.
“What do you suppose the mob will do with Chet?” Evan asked his uncle.
“They can’t let him go; he knows too much. On the other hand, he would be a nuisance to take wherever they went.”
“That leaves only one alternative,” Joe said, “and I don’t even want to think about it!”
“If we could only find out more about George Dimitri,” Frank mused, “it might lead to a clue. His friends, connections, a former job—”
Uncle Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “You know, I remember that a man named George Dimitri worked once for my competitor, Spiro Vanides. He got into some trouble and was dismissed. Perhaps this is the same Dimitri.”
The Shattered Helmet Page 10