One False Step

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Frank said. “You said it yourself. We did it once, so why wouldn’t we do it again?”

  “That’s just the point. I overheard Mario talking to my father. He didn’t think you’d make it across the first time,” Elisabeth said. “When you did, he was sure you’d fall the second time. I don’t think anyone will expect you to try it a third time.”

  “When we saw Mario here, I just didn’t want to believe that the whole thing was a setup,” Frank said. “It’s just too . . . evil.”

  “Mario thought it would be an easy way to get rid of you without anyone suspecting the truth,” Elisabeth said. “He was sure that the daring Hardy boys would go along with it, thinking it was the only way to make sure the Aérocirque acrobats were caught so the robberies would stop.”

  “Mario gave us a little black wire to communicate with him so that he would know which apartment was going to be robbed. The plan was for him and his officers to be there to catch the acrobats when they came across the rope,” Frank said. “So something else I already suspected must be true: That wire was a phony. We were just supposed to think we were communicating with him.”

  Elisabeth nodded. “That was an added incentive. If you believed you were in contact with Mario, you’d be more likely to walk the rope,” Elisabeth said. “When you both fell, as Mario was sure you would, he would have been a witness to the bravery of the Hardy boys as they tried to solve another baffling case.”

  “Frank and I were concerned about all the noise—that it would keep Mario from learning our position,” Joe said, “when all along he knew where we were headed.”

  “I dropped the radio after we jumped from the helicopter, but Mario and his officers showed up anyway,” Frank said. “At the time, it seemed a little strange, but Mario had an explanation for it—so we shook it off.”

  “I’m sorry,” Elisabeth said. She looked nervously toward the door. “You have to go now!”

  Frank looked at Joe. “It’s the only way out,” he said. “We have no other choice.”

  Joe nodded. “You’re right,” he said. He turned to Elisabeth. “Serge used a small rocket launcher to get the rope to the other building,” he told her. “How are we going to do that?”

  Elisabeth smiled. “Where do you think they store all of their equipment?” she said.

  She walked over to the bookcase, removed a large volume from one of the shelves, and stuck her hand through the space where the book used to be. Within seconds the bookcase opened, revealing a large walk-in safe.

  “If this were a movie, I’d have expected something like this,” Joe said. “I guess this whole thing from beginning to end’s been like a movie, though, so I’m not surprised!”

  Elisabeth opened the thick door, turned on a light, and Frank and Joe followed her inside.

  There were small rocket launchers, piles of rope, and grappling hooks stacked all over the floor.

  “Why so much?” Frank asked.

  “When they were in a hurry to get away with what they stole from the different apartments, the acrobats had to leave their equipment behind,” Elisabeth explained. “It can’t be traced, so that’s no problem, but we had to keep them supplied. My father’s job in the plan is to take what they’ll need to each performance, so they’ll have it.”

  “Does Mario know about this?” Joe said.

  “He knows about the equipment, certainly, but he doesn’t know about this room,” Elisabeth said. She smiled at them. “He’ll have no idea how you were able to escape.”

  “What about your father? What will he do when he finds out we’ve escaped?” Frank asked. “Will he suspect you?”

  Elisabeth hesitated for a moment, then she said, “My father has already left the country. He flew out on his private jet to an island in the Caribbean a couple of hours ago. No one knows he’s gone. Mario thinks he’s with the Aérocirque acrobats, planning another robbery for tonight.”

  Joe frowned. “And you stayed behind?” he said. “Why?”

  “I told you,” Elisabeth said. “Murder was never a part of this plan.”

  “If you can sacrifice your safety for us, we can do our part to make sure these people are brought to justice,” Frank said. “Joe and I’ll get out of here, and since I don’t know who in the Philadelphia Police Department we can trust, we’ll bring back the FBI—but I want you to leave the apartment as soon as you can.”

  “Why?” Elisabeth said.

  “You won’t be safe when they find out what’s happened,” Joe said, “and Mario may already know that your father has left the country.”

  “I’ll tell the guards I’m going shopping, something they won’t find hard to believe,” Elisabeth said, “and then I’ll wait for your call on my cell phone.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Frank said.

  Elisabeth looked at them both. “Are you sure you can make it across?” she asked.

  Frank nodded. “The Hardy boys can do anything they put their minds to,” he said.

  “I believe that,” Elisabeth said.

  She helped Frank and Joe carry the rocket launcher, the rope, and the grappling hook over to the window.

  “That middle building across the street looks like a good bet,” Joe said. “The metal barrier on the roof is about level with this floor, so I say we make that our destination.”

  “I agree,” Frank said. He looked around the room. “What’ll we anchor the rope to in here?”

  “The door to the safe,” Elisabeth said. “It won’t budge.”

  “Good idea,” Joe said.

  Frank aimed the launcher toward the metal barrier on the roof and pulled the trigger. With lightning speed, the grappling hook and rope shot across the distance and locked around one of the metal bars.

  “Now let’s tie this end to the safe door, and we’ll be ready for our performance,” Frank said.

  With Elisabeth’s help, Frank and Joe soon had the rope anchored to the safe door and as taut as they could make it.

  Frank took off his shoes but left on his socks. Joe followed suit. This time they meant business.

  “Now, for the performance of our lives,” Joe said. He climbed up on the window frame and tested the rope. “There’s more give than I’d like, but it’ll have to do.” Slowly, he stepped onto the rope. When he felt he was balanced, he started across.

  “Wait, Joe! I’m scared! Maybe we can come up with a different plan of escape!” Elisabeth suddenly said, her voice full of concern. “There must be another way!”

  Frank saw Joe falter for just a minute, then regain his balance and continue sliding his feet along the rope.

  Frank shook his head. “We’ll make it, Elisabeth,” he said. “You were right the first time. This is the only way out.” Frank climbed onto the window frame, ready to step out onto the rope when Joe was several more feet away. “You hurry up and leave, but say something to make the guard believe we’re still inside.”

  “Okay. I have total faith in the Hardy boys,” Elisabeth said. “I’m sorry for whatever role I played in this, but I know everything will be all right, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “Soon,” Frank said as he stepped out onto the rope. “Soon,” he repeated. He certainly hoped he and Joe could keep that promise.

  15 A New Circus Act?

  * * *

  It was almost dawn, but the street below Joe hadn’t yet come alive with early morning traffic. That was a good thing, Joe told himself. That meant he and Frank could probably make it across to the other building without attracting unwanted attention.

  Frank was trying to stay far enough behind Joe that he wouldn’t sway the rope too much. It wasn’t as taut as it should be, he knew, and he was hoping that the rope wasn’t pulling loose from the door of the safe.

  Just a few more feet, Joe thought, and he’d be at the next building. At first, when he thought about what he and Frank were doing, he was amazed and just a little bit, well . . . frightened, but he was able to stay calm by reminding
himself that this was similar to some of the things he and Frank did in gymnastics when they were training for competition. In fact, just a couple of weeks ago during one of the sessions, their coach had brought in a friend of his who was on the United States Olympic Committee, and the man had told Joe that if he kept at it, he could make the team in 2008. Just the memory of that fired him up with enough adrenaline to keep going.

  Frank was glad that Joe was almost to the building. When his brother finally reached the metal barrier, Frank was prepared to speed up his trip across. He thought he could move just a little faster once he was the only one on the rope.

  Suddenly Frank heard a commotion behind him. He was sure it was coming from the room they had just left. He couldn’t look around, because he might lose his balance. But something inside his head told him that he needed to move faster, even if it made Joe’s trip less steady. He was sure that his brother would compensate in some way.

  “Hurry, Frank!” Elisabeth screamed. “Hurry . . .”

  Joe had heard Elisabeth’s piercing scream at Frank, but the rest of what she said was muffled, and he was sure that somebody had his hand around her mouth to keep her from saying anything else. He slid his feet faster along the rope. It was getting harder to balance because the rope now had more slack in it. Just then the rope lost all of its tautness—but at the last minute, Joe grabbed the side of the building and started pulling himself onto the roof.

  Moments earlier, Frank knew someone had discovered that they had escaped, and he was certain that Elisabeth was doing her best to make sure they still made it across—but given the slack in the rope, he was sure, too, that it would be a losing battle. Frank could see that Joe had made it across and was now on the roof, so he no longer had to worry about upsetting his brother’s balance—but could he manage to . . .?

  Suddenly, Frank was in free fall. Someone had cut the rope loose.

  At the last minute, Frank grabbed hold of the rope and was soon flying toward the building across the street. In seconds, he slammed against the bricks. The impact nearly jarred him loose from the rope, but somehow he managed to hang on.

  “Frank! Frank!”

  Frank slowly raised his head. Among the stars he was still seeing, he could also make out Joe’s face.

  “You’ll have to climb up the side of the building, but you can do it,” Joe called down. “Just pretend we’re at camp, and you’re climbing those wooden walls on the obstacle course!”

  Joe had no doubt that physically, Frank could make it. His brother was tough. The thing that worried him was that he had seen Mario’s angry face in the window across the street. There was no telling what he was planning for them now. Just thinking about the possibilities scared Joe. Their father had told them before that the most dangerous criminals are always good men and women who suddenly turn bad. Often, at the end of their short crime spree, when they realize what a mess they’ve made of their once-exemplary lives, they simply lose all perspective and commit crimes more heinous than those of career criminals.

  Frank’s arm muscles were beginning to burn, but he knew he was making progress. The salt from his perspiration was getting in his eyes, making it almost impossible for him to see, but he thought he could count five more floors between him and the top of the building. Now it would just be a race against time. He was positive that Mario was on his way over, hoping to capture him and Joe again before they could do any more damage to his short criminal career.

  Only two more floors, Frank thought as he used a shoulder to try to wipe the perspiration from his eyes. Above him, he could hear Joe shouting encouragement. Make yourself think you’re back at Bayport High School, Frank told himself. You’re in competition, and Joe and our parents are cheering you on. For just a minute that helped, but then he experienced one of the worst muscle cramps in his arms that he had ever had. Taking a minor rest, he started to lose hope. I’m not going to make it, he thought.

  Just then a window opened.

  “Young man! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  Frank looked toward the window. “Uh, well, I’m trying to reach the top of this building, ma’am,” he managed to say. “You see, my brother’s waiting for me, and when I get up there, we’re going to go get the FBI.”

  “A likely story,” the woman said. “Anyway, the roof door is locked, and the superintendent has the one key, and he’s gone for the day.”

  “What do you suggest, then?” Frank asked her. He couldn’t believe that he was hanging several stories above a Philadelphia street having a weird conversation with this elderly lady.

  “Well, if you’re just one of those teenagers who likes to pretend he’s a comic book character and climb up the side of a building, then I’ll let you in—but you’re going to have to turn yourselves in to the authorities and take your punishment,” the woman said. “If you’re a criminal, then you’ll just have to find your own way off the roof.”

  Frank wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could hang on, but he thought the elderly woman’s faulty logic was a little funny—and it helped him keep going. “I’m one of those goofy teenagers,” he managed to say. “It would be great if you could let me and my brother in.”

  The woman stood aside. “Tell your brother to climb down, then,” she said.

  Frank looked up. He could tell that Joe had been watching him. “Climb down,” he said. “I’ll explain later.” With that, he swung his body inside the window, put his feet on the floor, and stood up. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

  Joe started down the rope. He had no idea what was going on, but he was sure it wasn’t a trap, or Frank would never have gone into the apartment.

  When Joe reached the window, Frank was there to pull him inside. Joe then reached back outside, jerked on the rope, and pulled it and the grappling hook into the apartment. “I didn’t want to leave any evidence,” he said.

  “Wise,” Frank said. He turned to the woman. “This is Louise Schuster, Joe. She tries to help wayward teenagers, and I told her you and I were really wayward.”

  “That’s right, young man,” Louise said. “I’ve set a lot of young people straight in my time.”

  Joe was sure she was probably close to a hundred years old. “Yes, my brother and I are really wayward—and we appreciate you setting us straight,” he said.

  “The door to the roof was locked, so that’s why Louise let us in here,” Frank said. “I promised her we’d turn ourselves in, so I’ve already called the FBI.”

  Over tea and cookies, Louise told Frank and Joe a shortened version of the complete story of her life. Neither of the Hardy boys was sure how much of it was true, but it still made for an interesting way to pass the time until the FBI arrived.

  Once, Frank was sure the commotion he heard outside Louise’s apartment was Mario and his officers coming for them, but it turned out not to be. Evidently, none of them had seen him and Joe climb into Louise’s window. They were now probably thinking that they had the Hardy boys trapped on the roof.

  Within about twenty minutes, two FBI agents arrived.

  Frank and Joe motioned the agents away from Louise, and gave the man and woman a quick summary of what had happened. Then they both agreed to go to FBI headquarters in downtown Philadelphia to fill in the rest of the blanks about Aérocirque and Mario Zettarella. Frank and Joe made sure the agents knew that Elisabeth was responsible for saving their lives.

  “Thank you again, Louise,” Frank said, turning back toward the elderly woman.

  “You two try to stay out of trouble, now,” Louise told them.

  “We’ll do our best,” Joe said.

  • • •

  By that evening, Mario, two of his officers, and all of the Aérocirque acrobats had been arrested. Elisabeth was being held too, but one of the agents said he was sure the judge would look kindly on how much she had helped Frank and Joe.

  Chet, driving the Hardy boys’ van, arrived at FBI headquarters with Matt and Tony. Frank and Joe met them at the c
urb.

  Chet slid over and Frank climbed behind the wheel.

  “I’m ready to get back to Bayport,” Frank said. He grinned at Joe. “I’m tired of the circus life.”

  As they headed out of Philadelphia, Joe told them all that had happened during the last few hours.

  “I felt really sorry for Gina,” Matt said. “Mario rushed in, told her that he had to go on a case out of the country, and started packing a suitcase.”

  “It wasn’t long after that that the FBI arrived,” Tony said. “We did our best to console Gina, because she was in hysterics when she found out, but one of her sisters came and took her to her house.”

  As they crossed into New Jersey, Matt said, “I just thought of something. We’re having a student council meeting Monday to try to figure out some way to make a lot of money for some badly needed school projects—and I think I have a really great idea.”

  “What?” Joe asked.

  “You and Frank can perform your high-wire acts in the gym,” Matt said. “We’ll charge, and it’ll raise a fortune!”

  Frank and Joe looked at each other and smirked.

  “Well, I guess we were a pretty good act,” Joe said. “I mean, we’re still here to tell about it.”

  Frank grinned. “Actually, I’d decided to retire from the circus,” he said, “but this sounds like it’s for a good cause—so I guess retirement could wait a few days.”

  “We’ll need a name for your act, though,” Tony said. He thought for a few minutes. “It has to be good. Something like The Magnificent Hardys or The Flying H Brothers. But better.”

  “We could call the show Hardycirque” Chet said. “It’ll be an annual event!”

  “That’s it! Hey, who knows?” Matt said. “If you get tired of solving mysteries, you could join a real circus.”

  “Nah. This is a one-time thing,” Frank said. “We’ll do it for Bayport High School one last time.”

  “Agreed,” Joe said, smiling. “Then it’s back to the usual for us. You know, just performing other death-defying stunts, going undercover, and fighting huge criminals!” With a laugh, Joe playfully punched his brother on the arm.