Three-Ring Terror

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “What do you . . . clowns . . . think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  Joe was about to explain when Frank stepped up. “That’s our ball in there,” he said. “We were trying to get it out.”

  “Real smart,” the man said, letting go of Joe. “You guys could have been killed.” With that, he grabbed the whip out of Frank’s hand, unlocked the cage, and stepped inside. In a few trained movements, the man had the lion sitting back on his hind legs, his paws in the air. “Stay, Brutus,” the man told the lion sharply. He then walked over to the corner of the cage and picked up the ball. He tossed it through the bars of the cage, and Joe caught it neatly between his hands.

  “Thanks!” Joe yelled out.

  “Next time,” the man warned, “don’t mess with these animals. They may be trained, but that doesn’t stop them from attacking.” He passed the lion a tidbit from his pocket, backed out of the cage, and locked it up.

  Frank took the ball from Joe and wiped it clean. He looked it over carefully. “Is there anything inside?” Joe asked his brother.

  “Nope,” Frank said. He tried twisting the ball, but Joe could see it wouldn’t budge.

  “Now are you satisfied?” Justine asked, her arms crossed in front of her. “If you’re through with the ball, I’d like to give it back to Carl.”

  “Not so fast,” Joe told her. He took the ball back from Frank and examined it himself. His brother was right—there was no way of opening it up, which meant there had to be something else important about it. He looked at the gems carefully. Like the ones on the other ball, these looked like rhinestones, about an inch in size each.

  “Is there a knife around?” he asked the animal trainer. The man gave Joe a quizzical look but pulled a pocketknife from his pants pocket and gave it to Joe.

  Joe opened the knife and scratched away at one of the gems. It broke into a few pieces and fell to the ground.

  “Rhinestones?” Frank asked, realizing what his brother was up to.

  “Or glass,” Joe replied. “Let’s try another.” One by one, Joe scratched at the gems, and one by one, all of them broke into pieces.

  “Give it up, Joe,” Frank suggested. “This is another dead end.”

  But Joe wasn’t about to give in so easily. He knew there had to be a reason why Rosen and Nash had acted so suspiciously, and this ball held the clue. He went at the last gem. He scratched its surface, expecting it to fall apart, too. But it didn’t. Instead, the gem shone out even more brilliantly. Joe caught his breath, realizing what they’d found.

  “Not a scratch!” he announced, his voice rising in excitement.

  Frank took one look at the gem and let out a long whistle. “You don’t mean . . .?”

  Joe nodded. “Unless I’m wrong, we’ve got our hands on a real diamond!”

  14 Cracking the Code

  * * *

  Justine gasped and looked nervously at Frank and Joe. Frank braced himself, ready to stop her from running off. If she was involved, he was sure she’d try to get away.

  But the trapeze student just stood there, staring at the ball. “No,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. “Not Carl.”

  “Not Carl?” Joe repeated. “Just what do you know about this, Justine?” he demanded, holding up the ball.

  Justine hid her face in her hands. Frank went over to her and put his hand on her arm. “It’s okay,” he told her. “Why don’t you calm down, and then you can tell us what you know.” He took the ball from Joe. “Did you know Rosen was passing diamonds to Nash?” Frank asked quietly.

  “I knew the ball was important,” Justine said, holding back her tears. “Carl told me to meet that guy at exactly eleven o’clock, but he also told me that if anything happened, I should hold on to the ball no matter what and pretend I didn’t know anything. Which I don’t, really.”

  Joe tapped his foot impatiently. “You knew more than you were letting on before,” he insisted.

  “That’s enough, Joe,” Frank said firmly. He turned to Justine and asked, “Why couldn’t Carl meet Rosen himself?”

  Justine wiped a tear from her eye. “He said it was too dangerous, with you guys prowling around. He said Rosen would understand why he needed an intermediary.”

  “So Carl picked you,” Frank concluded, feeling sorry for the young woman. “Weren’t you worried it would be dangerous for you?” he asked.

  “I love Carl,” Justine confessed. “I’d do anything for him.”

  “But now you see what kind of person he is,” Joe said. “It looks like he’s messed up with the theft of a diamond, at the very least,” he said.

  Frank followed through on Joe’s reasoning. “Nash and Rosen are accomplices in something illegal. They’re doing their best to hide it by passing juggler’s balls and coded messages back and forth. And now that we know this ball has a diamond in it, I’m beginning to wonder if we’re looking at a smuggling ring or the theft of one diamond.”

  “What did you mean just now about coded messages?” Justine asked, her eyes wide.

  Joe quickly explained about the code and told Justine that her initials were in it, too. “Did Carl tell you to plan to meet Rosen again on January third?” he asked, referring to the date that corresponded to Justine’s initials on the code.

  Justine shook her head. “No. I’m going back to Florida after the circus is finished in Bayport. My family is there, and I want to spend Christmas and New Year’s with them. Nash is going home, too.”

  “Rats,” Frank said, realizing their theory was shot again. Nash could be using Justine to pick up another of Rosen’s drops, but only if both Rosen and Justine were on tour together. “Did Nash ever ask you to continue with the tour in January?” he pressed, trying to fit the facts into the theory.

  “No,” Justine said again. “Look, I don’t know what Carl is involved in, but I’m sure there’s got to be an explanation,” she said, trying to sound convincing. But one look at the ball in Frank’s hands made her cut the speech short. “I’ve got to go,” Justine said abruptly. “I have to get ready for our performances this afternoon. Circus U. students are putting on a show for the Montero, and I need to get ready.”

  Frank watched the trapeze student leave and then turned to his brother. “This is even more serious than we thought,” he said, rubbing his finger over the diamond. “Jewel thieves as well as sabotage.”

  “And we still don’t even know why the sabotage is taking place or how it’s connected to the diamond,” Joe added, as he began to take off his clown suit.

  Frank started to remove his costume, too. “Why would Rosen have dropped the message two days ago, and then the diamond today?” he asked, as he slipped off the oversize clown shoes. “And how did Nash know to meet Rosen, or send Justine, when the first message never got to him?”

  “Ah, that’s much better,” Joe said, flexing his arms. “I’m really glad to be out of that costume.”

  “So, how did Nash know to meet Rosen?” Frank repeated.

  Joe thought for a moment. “Maybe Nash had another meeting with Rosen yesterday. Maybe that’s when they arranged this meeting.”

  “That could be why we saw Rosen around here yesterday,” Frank agreed. “But here’s another question: Why would Rosen be giving Nash instructions about other drops in the first place—assuming that’s what the message means?”

  “Especially since, as Justine says, she and Nash aren’t continuing with the tour,” Joe put in. “Nash couldn’t help Rosen out then.”

  “True,” Frank said. Then something occurred to him. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers. “What if Nash is only one part of this whole thing?”

  “Huh?” Joe asked, the confusion evident on his face. “You’re not making sense. Who else would be involved?”

  “Nash was meant to get the message instead of Chet, right?” Frank said, testing his theory. “But who sent Nash to work the table that night?”

  “The same person who sent Chet,” Joe replied. “Bo Costello.�
��

  “Right!” Frank exclaimed. He pocketed the ball and grabbed Joe’s arm. “I think we’ve found the missing link.”

  Moments later, Frank and Joe were standing outside Bo Costello’s office. The admissions director wasn’t in, and the door was locked tight.

  “This is our first real break,” Joe said, trying the knob.

  “We’d better make this search a quick one,” Frank said. “We don’t know when Costello will be back.” He found a large safety pin lying on the floor. He picked it up and bent it straight. “This will do just fine.” Frank stuck the pin in the lock and twisted it back and forth. In a few seconds he heard the lock click open. “Be careful,” he warned. “Keep your ears and eyes open. We don’t want to get caught here.”

  Joe nodded and followed his brother inside Costello’s office. He locked the door shut behind them and braced a chair against it, figuring that the barrier would buy them some time if Costello showed up. “What are we looking for, anyway?”

  “Some kind of proof that Costello knows Rosen better than he says he does,” Frank told him. “If Nash had been working alone with Costello, Rosen wouldn’t have needed to pass him instructions or information in that message. He would have dropped the ball with the diamond on it and that would have been that.”

  Frank remembered the conversation they’d overheard the day before between Costello and one of his former students. The director of admissions had told the person on the other end of the line to “be careful.” He reminded Joe about what they had heard. “Maybe he was talking to Rosen.”

  Joe wandered over to the bulletin board on Costello’s wall. “That’s a good guess. Hey,” Joe added, “check this out.” He stood by the bulletin board and pointed at one of the sheets Costello had tacked onto it.

  Frank went over to the bulletin board and looked at the photographs. He was hoping there would be one of Costello together with Rosen, something that showed they were partners in crime. It was stretching it, he knew, but there had to be some kind of proof to his theory somewhere in Costello’s office.

  “Look at these marks. Right here, next to these dates,” Joe said. “I mean, why these dates in particular? What’s so important about them?”

  Frank saw a small smile on Joe’s face as he leaned over to look where his brother was pointing. “December twentieth. January third. February fourteenth. This is the Montero schedule,” Joe said. “Bo Costello’s made little marks next to all three of these dates. He’s even got initials next to them—his own little code, I guess.”

  Frank copied the dates down once again, along with the list of towns where the Montero was going to be on those dates. “Bayport we know,” he said. “On January third, the Montero’s going to be in Indianapolis, Indiana.”

  “And on the fourteenth of February, it’ll stop in Fort Worth, Texas,” Joe read from the list. “But the initials next to the dates aren’t the same ones we’ve got on our list,” he added, frustrated.

  Frank sat down at Costello’s desk and started playing with the numbers and the towns. He abbreviated the cities and came up with BP, IN and FW. “Look,” he said, showing the list to Joe. “What if we make this into a code all its own.”

  Joe scratched his head and looked over Frank’s shoulder. “You mean, put the dates with the abbreviations you’ve got there?”

  “Exactly,” Frank said. “And next to that, we’ll put the initials from Rosen’s original list.”

  “Okay,” Joe said. “For twelve-twenty, we’ve got BP—that’s short for Bayport—and CN from Rosen’s list.”

  “And for one-oh-three, there’s IN—Indianapolis—and JL,” Frank went on. “That leaves two-fourteen, FW and GU.”

  “Hey,” Joe said slowly. “I think I see something.”

  “You do?” Frank asked.

  Joe pointed at the letters. “Look. If you go down the alphabet one letter from B, you get C. And then if you go back up through the alphabet two letters from P, you get N.”

  Frank looked at the rest of the list and realized Joe was right. “Check it out!” he cried. “Take IN. Add a letter to the I and you get J. Subtract two letters from the N and you get L. JL becomes IN.”

  “And we thought Justine was the next victim of sabotage, or the next person to get passed one of Rosen’s balls,” Joe said. “What the list really means is that the next drop is going to take place in Indianapolis. The people’s initials were just used to make the code.”

  “And GU—which we thought meant Georgianne Unger,” Frank concluded, “really means Fort Worth.”

  “Rosen really was passing information to Costello,” Joe said, shaking his head in wonder. “And the list doesn’t seem to have a thing to do with the sabotage.”

  “Or does it?” Frank wondered aloud. He tapped the desk firmly with his fist. “Bo Costello’s got a lot of explaining to do. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Joe asked.

  “We’re going to find him and ask him point-blank if he’s working a smuggling ring with Ralph Rosen,” Frank said with determination.

  Joe glanced at the door and saw the chair he’d braced against it start to move. The doorknob was turning. “Uh, Frank,” he said, “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

  “What?” Frank shot Joe a quizzical look. “Why not?”

  “Because my guess is he’s on his way in here,” Joe said in a harsh whisper.

  Frank looked at the door and saw the knob turn. His eyes moved around the room for an escape, but there was no window and nowhere to hide.

  “What are we going to do?” he asked Joe, his eyes fixed on the door.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Joe shot back.

  With that, the door burst open. Standing there, with Carl Nash by his side, was Bo Costello. And he did not look at all happy to see the Hardys.

  15 Fireworks!

  * * *

  “Well, well,” Costello said, smiling broadly at the Hardys. “Looks like we got our hands on a couple of clowns. Without the costumes, but still in full makeup.”

  Nash gave the two of them a wicked smile. “Maybe they were just looking for an application,” he said. “Or someone to help them with that makeup.”

  “Actually, we were looking for a. couple of crooks,” Joe shot back. “And it looks like we found them.”

  Frank grabbed onto his brother’s arm. “Keep your head,” he warned under his breath.

  Costello raised his eyebrows. “Crooks?” he said in a surprised tone. “We’re not crooks. Just good businessmen.” Nash began to laugh, but Costello cut him off. “That’s enough,” he said. “The circus isn’t all fun and games, you know. But I guess you two have already discovered that,” he added, nodding at Frank and Joe.

  “We know about your diamond theft,” Joe fired. “You’re not going to get away with it.”

  “But I already have,” Costello said softly. “And, once the two of you are out of the way, I will continue to.”

  “Continue to?” Joe said. “So you are smuggling diamonds.”

  Costello smiled. “Clever of you to have figured that out.”

  Frank stood his ground, waiting for the moment to make his move. If they planned it right, between them, he and Joe could take on Nash and Costello. It was just a matter of timing.

  Costello stepped into his office and closed the door behind him. “Now, what are we going to do with these two?” he asked Nash.

  Nash showed his teeth in a gruesome smile. “I say we throw them to the lions.”

  “Oh, please,” Costello said in a calm voice. “Be serious.”

  “Once the word gets out about what you’ve been up to, your scheme is dead,” Frank told the director of admissions.

  Costello shook his head sadly. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. That’s why we have to do something with you two, before you manage to tell anyone else.” He stepped over to his desk and pulled a box of fireworks out from underneath it. He took a stick of fireworks out of t
he box and unwound the fuse.

  “What are you going to do?” Joe asked.

  “There’s going to be a little accident here,” Costello explained, holding up the stick. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep something as dangerous as this here, but fireworks are my specialty.”

  “Then it was you who caused that uncontrolled explosion,” Frank said, remembering what Paul Turner had told them about the fireworks accident at Circus U.

  Costello tapped his head with the fireworks stick. “You boys are so smart. Nash, there’s a lighter in my bag next to the two boys. Get it.” he ordered.

  Nash came over to Frank and Joe, his head down, looking for the bag. Frank got ready to make his move, keeping his eyes on Nash. Nash just had to step a little closer, and then—

  But before he could make his move, Joe lunged at Nash.

  In a flash, Bo Costello reached across the desk and grabbed Joe’s arms. Joe felt himself fall backward onto the desk. He struggled to free himself from Costello’s grip.

  Frank started for Costello. Then he felt a sharp pain in his left side, and he collapsed onto the floor.

  “Good work, Carl,” Costello bellowed.

  Then Frank heard Costello let out a grunt. Frank raised his head to see that Joe had broken free and had punched Costello in the stomach.

  Frank got to his feet in time to see Nash coming toward him. Frank did a double take and turned to face Nash. The trapeze artist came flying at him, his feet outstretched in a karate move.

  Frank braced himself for the blow. Nash came at him feetfirst. Frank began to duck, but Nash reacted swiftly. Frank felt Nash’s feet make contact with his stomach. The blow sent him flying backward onto Costello’s desk to land on his back. Getting to his feet, Frank saw out of the corner of his eye that Joe was still wrestling with Costello.

  Nash came in on Frank to finish the job. Frank shot his right hand out to ward Nash off, but Nash sneered, drew his arm up to protect himself, and socked Frank in the chin.