The Dangerous Transmission

by Franklin W. Dixon

  Jax crouched and opened the grate away from the wall like a door. Behind the grate was a safe embedded in the wall. “Memorize this combination,” he said to the Hardys. Then he turned and opened the safe and put the tooth in its container inside.

  “Just so you guys know,” he said, turning to the Hardys. “In case anything happens to me, this is where I keep the Molar Mike. All the manufacturing schematics, test records, reports, and documentation are in here too.”

  “Hey, Jax, what are you talking about?” Frank asked. “What do you mean, in case something happens to you? Have you been threatened?”

  “Let’s get everyone out of the conference room,” Jax said. “Then we can talk.” He slammed the safe door shut and closed the grate, completely disguising the secrets behind it.

  The Hardys and Jax went back to the conference room. The rest of the journalists were gone, and the caterer had nearly finished cleaning up. The leftovers were boxed up for Jax’s refrigerator, and the conference room was being cleaned and swept.

  After the caterer left, Frank, Joe, and Jax took the leftovers into the kitchen of Jax’s flat. They spread out some of the food on the kitchen table and sat down in front of the window. Outside a mist sprinkled down on the trees that dipped over the street.

  Snacking on cheese, crackers, fruit, and cookies, the three talked about Geoffrey Halstead’s lawsuit.

  “Okay, Jax, tell us what’s really going on here,” Frank urged his friend. “You know we’ll be glad to help you. But we have to know the full story.”

  “Geoffrey and I have been friends a while,” Jax began. “We’ve known each other since he began leasing the shop downstairs. We’re both craftsmen, and I ran some ideas by him about the general design of the Molar Mike without being specific about the actual invention. But I didn’t consult with him in any official way, and I didn’t use the ideas we discussed. He never really knew exactly what I was talking about.”

  Jax grabbed a piece of fruit. “I have a good attorney. I’m sure he’ll be able to resolve this. I’m not really worried about the lawsuit.”

  “What are you worried about?” Frank asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jax answered. He seemed to be avoiding Frank’s gaze.

  “You said you were showing us your safe in case anything happens to you,” Frank reminded him.

  “So what’s up with that?” Joe asked. “Is someone threatening you?”

  “Yes, but I can’t prove it,” Jax said. “Ever since I started work on the Molar Mike, somebody’s been bugging me.”

  “For example . . . ?” Frank prompted.

  “First, this isn’t the first time someone’s broken into my flat. It’s happened at least twice before. I also think that someone has hacked into my computer—the one with all my plans on it. I’ve done some major electronic searches, but I couldn’t find the source.”

  “Sounds like someone’s on the trail of your invention,” Joe said.

  “And there’s more,” Jax said. “I’ve been followed, and someone even tried to run me off the road once. It might have been just an accident, but I don’t know. . . .”

  “Can you identify any of the people who have been threatening you?” Frank asked.

  “No, I have nothing,” Jax said. “Help me find out what’s going on, will you?”

  “Absolutely,” Joe answered. He took out the number Nick had given him earlier. “You need to call them,” Joe said. He repeated what Nick had said about the fire chief’s investigation, and how he’d wanted to talk to Jax.

  “That sounds kind of weird,” Jax said, “like they think I had something to do with the fire.”

  “I know,” Joe replied, “but Nick said they just want to interview you. He assured them you’re okay.”

  Jax called the number and made an appointment for six o’clock. Then he called Nick and told him what was happening. The Hardys listened as Jax continued his conversation, but they couldn’t make much sense out of it. Jax filled them in after he hung up.

  “I told the Tower of London guard that I was bringing you two with me. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” Frank said, checking his watch. “It’s a quarter to five now, so we’ve got about an hour.”

  “I asked Nick to meet us at this club not far from here,” Jax said. “It’s really wild. I can’t wait to take you there. But he can’t get there in time. He’s giving a dinner speech for a youth group up in Kensington. He said to check in with him after we’re finished at the Tower. Maybe we can hook up then.”

  “When I talked to him earlier, I didn’t tell him what happened here last night,” Joe said. “I wanted to check with you first. I didn’t know if you wanted people to know.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jax said. “I told him, though. He already knew about all the pressure I’d been getting from Pierre.”

  Frank told Jax about the Hardys’ meeting with Officer Somerset. “Seems a little weird that Pierre checked out of his hotel,” Joe said. “I’m sure the police told him to stick around.”

  Frank took out the instant photo he took of the pewter fragment they found in Jax’s lab. “You’re sure you don’t recognize this?” he asked Jax again.

  “Absolutely. I thought about it when I went to bed last night.”

  “Maybe a patient dropped it,” Joe suggested. “Maybe a hinge broke, and this part fell to the floor, and the owner just didn’t notice.”

  “Except none of my patients are ever in the lab,” Jax pointed out. “Even if one of them got in there by mistake, I had a cleaning crew go over the place just before the break-in. I wanted it really clean for the press conference. If it had been on the floor, the cleaners would have found it.”

  “So it had to have been dropped after the cleaning crew left,” Frank reasoned.

  “Right,” Jax said. “And no one was in there afterward except the person who broke in.”

  “And Pierre,” Joe reminded them.

  “But he said it wasn’t his,” Jax said.

  “And if it was his, do you think he would have said so?” Joe asked. “What if he was in the lab looking for the tooth? He sure wouldn’t want you to know that, so he’d lie about the pewter piece.”

  “I’d really like to talk to him again,” Frank said. “Jax, do you have any idea where he might have gone after he left the hotel?”

  “He was staying in a friend’s apartment when he first got in touch with me a few weeks ago,” Jax said. “Maybe he went there. I have the address.”

  “Sounds like a good place to start,” Joe said.

  “Let’s go,” Jax said. “I know right where it is. We can walk.”

  Frank had a creepy feeling from the minute they left the flat. He was sure they were being followed. He casually looked around once and noticed a woman about a block behind them. As soon as Frank’s eyes caught hers, she stepped into a shop and out of sight. Frank noticed her trailing them again, though, a minute later.

  They had walked about five blocks when Jax stopped in front of a general store. “I need to go in here for a few minutes,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  “No problem,” Joe said, following him into the store. Frank stepped inside too, but stayed near the front of the store. He was able to look through the window and get a full view back down the street.

  There she is again, he noted to himself, spotting the woman. And she’s looking this way.

  Frank was sure that the woman couldn’t see him from his post inside the store. She continued to stand in front of another shop window about half a block away. But she spent most of her time sneaking looks up the street at the general store.

  As Frank watched she took a cell phone from her purse. She tried to make a call but then slapped the phone a couple of times and redialed.

  “What’s up?” Joe asked, joining Frank.

  “See that woman in the green coat?”

  Joe nodded his response.

  “She’s been following us since we left the flat.”

&n
bsp; “It looks like her phone’s not working,” Joe observed.

  As the Hardys watched, the woman walked to a pay phone on the corner across the street from the general store.

  “This might be time for a little shoulder surfing,” Joe said. He grabbed a pair of high-powered binoculars from a store display. Then he stood where he had a clear view over the woman’s shoulder to the pay phone keypad.

  “Okay, Frank,” Joe said. “Write down these numbers. Five-five-”

  The scene was trapped in the circle lenses of Joe’s binoculars.

  “Five-seven-”

  The woman’s finger paused over the number buttons.

  “Three-eight-”

  Then her head swiveled suddenly.

  “Uh-oh.”

  Joe felt a chill down his spine. Through the binoculars, he saw that the woman was staring straight into his eyes.

  6 Caught in the Crypt

  * * *

  When Joe saw the woman look into his eyes, he felt the hairs on his arms bristle. He ducked out of sight, but he knew it was too late. His pulse pounded as he looked over at Frank.

  Joe knew that Frank wouldn’t look in his direction because it would be better if the woman didn’t know they were connected. Sure enough, Frank was pretending to read a newspaper. But although his head was bowed down toward the paper, his eyes were aimed at the pay phone and the woman standing there.

  “She’s still looking over here,” Frank muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Stay down.”

  Joe waited for what seemed like a long time but was only five minutes. Then Frank whispered again. “She turned away,” he said. “It looks like she’s going to make another call. No, now she’s hesitating. . . .” He snapped the newspaper shut and dropped it on a nearby bench. “That’s it. She’s leaving. You’re all clear.”

  Joe stood up. The woman was walking quickly down the street toward the corner. “You go on with Jax,” Frank called back as he left the store and crossed the street. “I’ll catch up with you at the Tower of London.”

  “Where’s Frank going?” Jax asked as he walked up to join Joe.

  As they walked to the Underground, Joe told Jax about the woman who had been following them.

  “Do you have any idea who she is?” Jax asked.

  “She looks familiar to me,” Joe said. “I want to check with Frank and see if he got the same impression. I think she might be a woman our Dad chased down a few years ago. We’ll check her out when we get back to my computer.”

  They went by the flat where Pierre had been staying, but there was no one home. Jax left a note for Pierre in the door. Then they decided to walk the rest of the way to the Tower of London.

  When they arrived at the Tower, it was closing. Guides dressed in knee-length black coats trimmed in yards of red stripes were ushering out the tourists. Jax gave his name to the guard posted at the gate, as he’d been instructed to do. The guard checked a small notepad, then let Jax and Joe through the gate into the fortress.

  They arrived at the guardhouse at six o’clock. Inside, in a medium-size office, two men were waiting for them.

  Joe recognized one as a fireman, even though he wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was the same man who had walked through the Medieval Palace with Jax and Joe after the fire. The other man introduced himself as a Tower guard.

  The two officials walked behind a large desk and sat down side by side. The guard gestured toward two chairs on the oppposite side of the desk. As Joe and Jax took their seats, the guard asked Joe the first question.

  “And you are a friend of Mr. Brighton’s?” he asked.

  “I am,” Joe answered. “I was here the night of the fire.”

  “Mr. Hardy was the one who found the knife,” the fireman added.

  “Ah, yes, the knife,” the guard said, turning to Jax. “Did you bring it with you?” he asked.

  “Here it is,” Jax said, handing it over to the guard. He had wrapped the knife in a piece of canvas cloth.

  “You said on the phone that this is not your knife,” the guard said. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it was my father’s,” Jax replied.

  “I see,” the guard mumbled. “And your father is—”

  “He passed away two years ago,” Jax said abruptly. “Why are you so interested in this knife?” he asked. “Is it because it was in the Palace? I believe Nick Rooney explained that I have been doing some work for the Tower. I created all the teeth—”

  “Yes, yes, he told us all of that,” the guard said, waving his hand in the air as if it didn’t matter. “And you use the boning knife to cut the teeth somehow?”

  Joe didn’t like the way the guard asked the questions. He could tell that the man seemed suspicious of Jax. He looked at his old friend. Jax looked nervous. He was blinking his eyes and fiddling with the cloth that he’d wrapped around the knife.

  “No, I don’t use the boning knife on the teeth,” Jax said. “I am also a taxidermist. I stuffed the two ravens in the Palace throne room, for example.”

  “He did a good job on those,” the fireman said to the guard. “I noticed them right away.”

  “I’m sure he did,” the guard said, never looking away from Jax. “But I’m simply trying to understand why he had this knife last night. As I understand it from Mr. Rooney, you were installing the finished heads on the wax bodies. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And how did the boning knife fit into that task?” the guard asked, picking up the knife.

  “It didn’t, but—”

  “So you were not using the knife for the heads,” the guard interrupted. “And how about the ravens? Were you stuffing them last night? In the Palace?”

  “No, of course not,” Jax said. “They had already been done. The knife—”

  “So you had no real reason to have the knife there that night?” the guard asked, putting the knife back down on his desk. He glared at Jax, frowning. It was very still in the room as the two men stared at each other. Jax made no move to speak, and the tension between the two seemed to thicken the air.

  “Excuse me,” Joe finally said to the guard. “If you’ll just let Mr. Brighton answer your questions, I’m sure he’ll be able to clear up any confusion,” he said.

  The guard leaned back in his chair. “I will be addressing you in a moment,” he said. “Very well, Mr. Brighton. Enlighten me.”

  Jax took a deep breath. “The knife is just one of many implements that I use for my craft,” he said. “I have several different bags and kits full of tools. The knife must have been in the one that I brought that night.”

  Joe remembered that Jax had said he never took his father’s tools out of the shop. He waited to see what his friend would say next. But Jax stopped there and just smiled at the guard. It looked as if he was forcing himself to be friendly to his interrogator.

  “‘Must have been?’” the guard repeated. “Are you saying that you aren’t sure yourself how the knife got there?”

  “Well, no, not exactly. Of course it had to have come from my bag, I guess. It’s definitely my father’s knife.”

  “And when did you take it out while you were in the Palace?” the guard asked. “For what purpose were you handling it when you were there?”

  Jax edged toward the front of his chair. “Look, exactly what are you getting at here?” he asked. His voice had taken on an irritated tone. “I’ve already told you I had no use for it there that night,” he continued. “Perhaps it fell out when I got some other tool. Perhaps I took it out in order to reach something else and left it on a table by mistake. If you’re saying that I took the knife so that I could cut a wire and start the fire, you’re wrong. You’re absolutely wrong.”

  “You’re a dentist by trade, I believe.” A different voice filled the room. Joe, Jax, and the guard shifted their attention to the fireman.

  “An orthodontist,” Jax corrected him.

  “Yes,” the fireman acknowledged. “We found this su
bstance near the source of the fire,” he continued, opening up a package of wax paper. Inside was a wad of something that looked like plastic.

  “That looks like dental compound,” Jax said. “As you’ve been told, I formed all the teeth for the wax figures. I used that compound for part of the process.”

  “There’s nothing suspicious at all about finding that in the Palace,” Joe pointed out. “Jax had been there several times, fitting the teeth and working with the figures.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” the guard said, turning toward Joe. “Tell me, Mr. Hardy, just what were you doing there that night?”

  “My brother, Frank, and I are old friends of Mr. Brighton,” Joe answered. “We were invited to come with him that night.”

  “And when did you discover the knife?” the guard asked.

  “After the fire, while my brother and Mr. Rooney met with the fire chief and Tower guards, Mr. Brighton and I surveyed the fire scene. This gentleman monitored us the entire time.” Joe nodded toward the fireman.

  “While we were walking around, I spotted the knife. I didn’t pick it up until I was cleared to do so. It obviously belonged to Jax, and the guard allowed him to take it. It was not suspicious because Jax had been in the Palace several times with his tools.”

  “Yes, well, if you don’t mind, Mr. Brighton, we’d like to hold this knife here for a day or two while our investigation continues. I will be happy to give you a receipt.” The guard wrote a note on a piece of paper and handed it to Jax. Then he stood up, indicating that the interview was over. Everyone else stood up too.

  “Thank you for coming in,” the guard said. “We will be contacting you.” He walked around behind the desk, and Jax and Joe headed for the door.

  “Mr. Hardy,” the guard called out as Joe stepped onto the cement stoop outside the door. Joe turned and looked at the guard. “How long have you known Mr. Brighton?” the guard asked. His lips spread out in a thin smile.

  “He is an old friend,” Joe replied. “In fact, he came to America and stayed with my family while he was studying there. You may have heard of my father, Fenton Hardy. He is a colleague of yours, in criminal justice.”