Trick-or-Trouble

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “You’re the perfect host for this, though,” Frank said.

  “Ah!” Blasko said, “I’ve dropped out of character!” He held up his small candelabra and raised his cloak over the lower half of his face. “Welcome to the Halloween Spooktacular. I am your ghostly host, Vincent Blasko. Won’t you please…step inside?” He backed away from the door, opening it just wide enough so that the teens could squeeze through.

  The door opened into a wide foyer lit by flickering, electric candles. Long streamers of fake cobwebs hung from the ceiling. The bats on the far side of the room were real; they were actually in a long cage near the top of the wall. The shadows in the room though, concealed the cage’s frame, as well as the wire holding the bats inside. A stern-looking lady ghoul stood guard to one side of the cage.

  “On loan from the zoo, I bet,” Frank said.

  Joe and Callie nodded.

  Several large black loudspeakers produced the screams the three friends had heard from outside. The noise effectively concealed the din from the party in the next room.

  Stepping past Mr. Blasko, the three teens entered the main hall of the Niles mansion. The room was huge, but people filled almost every inch of the floor. The large stairways on either side of the room had been roped off, and a large “security ghoul” stood watch beside each one.

  Leering plastic jack-o’-lanterns along the baseboards provided much of the room’s light. The rest came from ornamental brass light stands and candelabras fitted with flickering electric candle bulbs. All the windows of the room had been covered with heavy fire curtains.

  “That explains why we didn’t see any lights from outside,” Joe said.

  On the far side of the chamber, an old grandfather clock stood against the wall, and a sign reading HALLOWEEN SPOOKTACULAR BLASTOFF BASH hung from the ceiling. A DJ platform had been set up below the sign, between two huge speaker stacks. A woman in a werewolf mask stood near the microphone, enthusiastically spinning discs. An eerie mix of techno pop, creepy classical music, horror movie soundtracks, and Halloween novelty tunes filled the room. Anxious contestants, some in costume, danced to the throbbing, pulselike beat.

  Most of the dancers seemed to be in their teens or twenties, though there were also clusters of older people and younger kids. The three friends recognized some of their classmates and acquaintances among the group.

  As the Hardys and Callie drank in the whole scene, a witch with long strawberry-blond hair brushed past. “I suspected I’d find you here,” the witch said, eyeing the Hardys suspiciously.

  Joe laughed. “Good to see you, too, Allison. Frank, Callie, this is Allison Rosenberg—she’s in Mr. Pane’s lit class with me. Allison, my older brother, Frank, and Callie Shaw.”

  “I recognized Allison,” Frank said, extending his hand to her. “You really scored for Bayport High at that last math meet.”

  Allison shook Frank’s hand and gave a curt nod. “I’m surprised a sports hero like you would notice,” she said with a wry smile.

  Callie put her hand on Frank’s shoulder. “There’s more to Frank Hardy than the best throwing arm in Bayport.”

  “I’m sure there is,” Allison replied. “Have you signed in yet?”

  Frank, Joe, and Callie shook their heads.

  Allison pointed to a table set up near one of the stairways. Two lady vampires in bloodstained wedding dresses manned the table, handing out papers and taking applications. “Better get to it before the last-minute rush,” she said. “Good luck with the contest.” She moved through the crowd and onto the dance floor.

  “She’s the smartest girl in school,” Callie said as they edged their way toward the sign-up table.

  “She could give us some real competition.”

  “I expect there’ll be plenty of competition all around,” Joe said. “It’s not just teenagers trying to win. We’re competing with some of the most clever people in the city.”

  “And some troublemakers as well,” Frank added. “Look.” He angled his head toward a couple of kids dressed in leather who were hanging out in a corner of the room.

  “Missy Gates and Jay Stone,” Callie said. “Do you think the rest of the ‘Kings’ are in on this, too?”

  “Could be,” Joe replied. The Kings were a self-styled cybergang who also dabbled in cars and motorcycles. They’d given the Hardys some trouble before. Gates and Stone didn’t notice the Hardys in the crowd.

  “Let’s hope they keep to themselves this time,” Frank added.

  The three teens arrived at the registration table and got their sign-up forms from one of Dracula’s brides. They filled out the information, and then gave the papers back to the vampire, who gave them official contestant badges and a rules folder. The woman behind the table smiled, showing her fangs, and said, “Have a superspooky night!”

  As they walked away from the table, a big guy wearing a football uniform bumped into Joe. The kid was tall and muscular with curly black hair and an angular face. “Watch where you’re going, Hardy,” the boy said.

  “Watch it yourself, Brent,” Joe replied. Brent Jackson and Joe played opposite each other on the Bayport High football team. “Very original costume,” Joe added, clearly meaning just the opposite.

  “When you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Jackson said. “Nice costume yourself. The ‘down ’n’ out’ look suits you. I see you’ve brought your brother and his girl for escorts. Did Iola finally dump you, or is this party too late for her?”

  “Actually,” Joe said, keeping his temper in check, “I’m working.”

  “Oh yeah?” Jackson replied.

  “I’m helping the zookeepers round up stray animals,” Joe said. “Since you’re a ‘friend,’ I’ll look the other way so you can lope back into your cage before anyone spots you.”

  Callie laughed.

  “Very funny,” Jackson sneered.

  “What are you up to, Brent, besides looking for trouble?” Frank added.

  “Trouble I don’t need,” Jackson countered. “It’s prizes I’m into. But I just can’t resist needling you Hardy boys. I bet I score more swag in this contest than you hotshots do.”

  “Ha!” Callie said.

  “Lucky for you we’re not betting men,” Joe said.

  “Lucky for your wallets, you mean,” Jackson replied.

  “We’ll see how it turns out when the contest is over,” Frank said.

  Jackson smiled and nodded. “You bet we will.” He turned and slipped into the crowd.

  “Don’t trip over any big words,” Callie called after him.

  “Halloween must bring the creeps out of the woodwork,” Joe said.

  “Come on,” Frank replied, “let’s grab a snack before the big blastoff.”

  “How about a dance first?” Callie asked, taking Frank by the elbow.

  “You two hit the dance floor,” Joe said. “I’ll round up some food.”

  “Good plan,” Frank replied. He took Callie’s arm and the two of them joined the costumed crowd.

  Joe dodged his way through the other contestants to the refreshment table on the side of the room. A thin black-haired teen in jeans and a denim jacket turned and nodded at him as he approached.

  “What’s up, Joe?”

  “Just waiting for the action to start, Ren,” Joe replied.

  Ren Takei took a sip of his soda. “Me, too,” he said.

  “I see you’re not in costume either,” Joe said.

  “A costume would just slow me down.”

  “What kind of prizes are you looking to score?”

  “The usual,” Ren replied. “Electronics, music—anything expensive.” He shrugged. “I’m not too picky.”

  Joe laughed. “I doubt that,” he said. Ren was known around school for his top-of-the-line gadgets.

  “Hey, any prize can be cashed in or traded up,” Ren replied. “You and Frank both in on this?”

  Joe nodded.

  “I’ll keep out of your way then,” Ren said. “I know how competitive you
guys are.”

  “Frank and me?” Joe asked, feigning innocence.

  Ren laughed. “I’ll catch you later.”

  “See you.” Joe turned away and ordered some soda and pizza slices from the food stand.

  By the time he fought his way back to the edge of the dance floor, Frank and Callie were ready for a break. They found a quiet spot near a wall and ate.

  As they were finishing their food, Vincent Blasko stepped to the podium. The werewolf DJ cranked down the music.

  “Good eeeeevening!” Blasko said in a fake Hungarian accent.

  “Good eeeeevening!” the crowd hollered back.

  “Welcome to the Bayport Merchants Association’s First Annual Halloween Spoooooktacular!” Blasko said. He waited for the applause to die down and then continued. “Before we start this macabre contest, there’s something I’d like to say…” He looked around as though about to confide a great secret, then leaned close to the mike and shouted, “BOO!”

  Most of the room jumped. Then everyone burst into laughter and applauded again.

  “As you probably know, I am Vincent Blasko, and I will be your horrifying host for the duration of this fright fest.”

  Everyone applauded politely.

  “Cut to the chase!” Ren Takei called from the back of the room.

  Blasko grinned, showing his fangs. “Ah…‘Chase’ and ‘cut’…two words very dear to my heart. Perhaps the young man would like to stop by my graveyard later so that I may demonstrate.”

  The audience hooted and laughed and Ren crept away into the shadows.

  “Before the bloodletting begins, though,” Blasko continued, “I have a few announcements. First, any of you who have not yet registered to compete in the contest may want to do so now. It is free and won’t take too much of your time—providing you stay out of biting distance of my ‘brides.’ If not…” He shrugged. “Well, it may cost you a pint or two. And I’m not talking about milk!

  “Second, if you do not register tonight, you may register at any of the participating merchants in downtown Bayport at any time during the contest, or at the Chamber of Commerce during regular business hours. You need to register to be eligible to collect clues and win Spooktacular prizes.”

  “What kind of prizes?” Missy Gates called out from near the exit.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” Blasko said, pulling a sheet of paper out of his cloak and studying it. “Among the amazing items to be won are…CDs, MP3 players, a stereo system, pagers, clothing, a leather jacket, dinners out, a cell phone, a classic VW Beetle…”

  “A junk car, you mean!” Jay Stone, standing next to Missy, shouted out.

  The crowd laughed, but Blasko continued. “A computer system; a new, limited edition Geronimo motorcycle; a sailboat; and the grand prize, a reconditioned Waukesha mobile home RV! As well as many other astounding prizes.

  “Third, each participating merchant will have five different clues each day of the Spooktacular—but the clues will only be given out during special Spooktacular hours: from midnight to one A.M. tonight, and from dusk to midnight for the rest of the week.” The movie star grinned again. “We wouldn’t want any of our contestants caught out in the sunlight, would we?”

  “He’s really into this,” Callie whispered to Joe and Frank.

  “What do you expect?” Joe replied. “Blasko’s been doing this kind of thing since before any of us were born.”

  “Before our parents were born, too,” Frank added.

  “Each registered contestant can receive one free clue, per day, from each participating store,” Blasko continued. “The other clues may be obtained by making special purchases within the store.

  “To win the prizes, you must present all the pertinent clues to the store awarding the prize. Clues for the major prizes must be presented to the Judging Committee. See your packets for more details about this.

  “Some clues will be found during the treasure hunt phase, and will not be given out by stores. Even if you stumble across a big prize, you may not claim it without showing the proper—and legal—chain of clues! Anyone attempting to do so will be thrown to the werewolves.”

  The werewolf DJ standing nearby threw back her head and howled into her mike.

  Blasko laughed along with the audience. “And on that note,” he said, “it’s time to check the official Spooktacular countdown.” He gazed at the moldering grandfather clock behind him and smiled.

  “My timing is excellent, as ever. It’s only moments before the witching hour! If you will all count down the last minute with me…. Sixty…fifty-nine…”

  The crowd joined in. “Fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six…”

  “What store do you want to go to first?” Callie asked.

  “I think the Soesbees would be insulted if we didn’t start with the Book Bank,” Frank said.

  Callie smiled. “That makes sense.”

  “Thirteen…twelve…eleven…”

  When the crowd reached eleven, the lights suddenly went out.

  As the room plunged into darkness, someone screamed. “The bats! They’re loose!”

  3 Severed Head Start

  Leathery wings fluttered softly, and more screams filled the room. People began to push and shove each other in the darkness. A thin ray of light flashed as the front door opened in the hallway beyond. Someone had slipped out.

  “Don’t panic!” Frank called out. “The bats see better in here than we do!”

  “He’s right!” called a woman’s voice. The Hardys and Callie assumed it was one of the zookeepers who were tending the bats. “The bats won’t hit you if you stand still. They’re harmless. Milling around could hurt them or cause them to hit something!”

  Her words calmed the crowd a bit, but several scared partyers slipped out the exit. In the darkened room, people pulled out cigarette lighters and matches and lit them. Frank and Joe pulled out tiny flashlights from their pockets.

  “Where’d you get those?” Callie asked. She stood close to Frank and glanced apprehensively at the flying bats.

  “We brought them for the treasure hunt,” Joe replied.

  In the dim light, Vincent Blasko raised his hands and spoke in a loud, theatrical voice. He ignored the bats darting overhead and the two zookeepers chasing them with fine mesh nets.

  “Remain calm!” Blasko said. “The bats are our friends—well, my friends, anyway. What spookier way to start the Spooktacular? Please remain calm while our security people restore power and recapture our winged allies.”

  The DJ appeared with Blasko’s small candelabra. “Now,” Blasko said, “isn’t that better? I don’t know about you, but I feel quite at home.” He chuckled menacingly; the audience laughed nervously in response. “This reminds me of my trip to Dracula’s castle, in the Romanian province formerly known as Transylvania….”

  Before he could finish the anecdote, though, the lights came back on. Blasko smiled. “Ah! There we are. Why do you all look so pale? Have my ‘brides’ been stealing a few donations?”

  With the lights back on, the audience laughed more boldly. One of the zookeepers sidled up to Blasko and whispered in his ear. Blasko nodded and then spoke again. “Our friends from the zoo have asked that we take extra precautions as we leave the building, so that none of their leather-winged charges can make good on this attempted jailbreak.” He smiled, showing his pointed teeth.

  “So, with the witching hour passed, and if you will proceed to the exits with caution, I now declare the Halloween Spooktacular contest open! Be sure to visit my film festival at the Browning Theater and pick up your free clue! Happy hunting!” With a flourish of his cape, Blasko turned away from the microphone and spoke to a member of the Chamber of Commerce contest committee.

  “Oh,” Blasko said, returning to the mike, “in all the excitement I almost forgot.” He held up a ceramic jack-o’-lantern a bit larger than a softball. “These finely crafted pumpkins can be found at the sites of many major clues. Treat their contents carefully,
as they may lead you to other clues or instant prizes. Remember, you need a legal chain of clues to collect your prizes. Play fairly! You never know when the cadaver cops may be watching!”

  Callie, the Hardys, and the rest of the crowd in the main hall filed toward the door in a more or less orderly manner.

  “Some spooky accident,” Callie said.

  “I doubt it was an accident,” Frank replied. Callie looked puzzled. “Why would someone turn out the lights and let the bats loose?”

  Joe checked his watch. “It’s ten past midnight now—and it’ll take at least another five minutes to get out the door without letting the bats escape.”

  “Someone got a nice head start,” Frank added.

  “I don’t see Missy Gates or Jay Stone around,” Joe said.

  “They could have left during the commotion,” Frank replied. “The door opened a couple of times while it was dark. I’m betting whoever threw the circuit breaker and let the bats loose was the first one out.”

  “It would have been easy for Missy and Jay to pull it off working together,” Callie suggested.

  “Remember, there were a lot of people here that we don’t know anything about, either,” Joe said.

  “But we know that Missy, Jay, and their friends are troublemakers,” Callie said.

  “They were here, that’s for sure,” Frank replied.

  By the time they exited the old mansion, downtown Bayport was already crawling with prize hunters. Many of the contestants who were bustling through the streets were dressed in their Halloween outfits; anyone wearing a costume got a discount at certain shops.

  Callie spotted Allison Rosenberg in her witch costume, flitting from one shop to the next, picking up free clues. Her Halloween bag already looked stuffed with clue envelopes.

  “Looks like Allison’s had a good start,” Callie said.

  “Maybe too good,” Joe noted.

  “You think she might have caused the trouble at the mansion?”

  “Pulling a circuit breaker and opening a cage wouldn’t be too tough for a smart girl like her,” Frank said.