Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
Witness to Murder (5 page)
"Ignore them," Joe urged. "We'll lose Annie." He sat forward in his seat as if he could help Frank drive faster.
Frank heaved a sigh. "I can't, Joe. Keep an eye on the limo as long as possible." Frank pulled the van to the curb and waited for the ticket that was certain to follow.
When Frank stopped, Joe jerked open his door and hit the sidewalk running. One of the police officers called out to him, but he ignored the man's shouts. He sprinted after the limo for two blocks, watching it pull farther and farther away. Annie, he thought determinedly, I can't lose you now.
The black car slowed at an intersection, and just as Joe thought he might catch up, it turned right and disappeared. Joe pounded the concrete even harder until he reached the corner where the limo had turned. There was an empty lot on one side, an old building surrounded by a fence on the other, and directly in front of him a ramp that led to underground parking.
Joe's lungs burned as his breath came in ragged spurts, and his legs, with the oxygen depleted, felt heavy as lead. He glanced around, knowing the limo hadn't gone farther. It had to have gone down the ramp.
Cautiously he slipped into the cool darkness that led under a building. The light was dim, but as soon as Joe's eyes adjusted, he saw only afew cars in a neat row. Was the building abandoned?
No black limo. This was impossible. The limo couldn't just vanish.
***
"Okay," snapped the officer, with his hand ready on the butt of his gun as Frank rolled down the window. "Out of the van—with your hands up. Let's hear your excuse for running a red light, and in your pal's case, escaping to avoid arrest."
"Officer, I know this is going to sound wild . . ." Frank began, obediently climbing out of the car. Obviously, Joe's running off had alerted the cops to trouble. The officer's partner stood on the passenger side of the van—his hand also ready to draw his revolver — speaking into a two-way radio.
"We're chasing a black limousine. Two guys jumped out and kidnapped a friend of ours." Frank tried to sound convincing. "A girl. Please believe me. This is urgent."
The officer grinned. "Well, I haven't heard that story before. Good, kid, real good. Let's see your license. Officer Nolan, check the registration," he added to his partner. "Is it in the glove compartment?" he asked.
Frank nodded and handed his license over. "I swear it's true, sir," he continued. "Can you just check it out? Then I'll take the ticket. The van is mine."
"In a minute, kid. Before I do anything I'm going to search the van—with your permission, of course—for any illegal substances."
"Papers check out, Officer Delgado," Nolan said. "I'm going after his buddy. He must have had some reason to run." He took off in the direction that Joe had run.
"Check out the black limo while you're at it, Nolan," Delgado called sarcastically. "I'll keep an eye on this one."
"Will do," Officer Nolan called back.
Delgado checked out the van and then took Frank's license and walked slowly back to the patrol car with it.
Frank climbed back in the van and pounded the door once, letting out his frustration. It took way too long to write a ticket, he thought, looking for Joe or Nolan.
Finally Officer Delgado returned. "Your license is good and no tickets lately." The man seemed surprised, as if he had expected Frank to have a record. "Sign here." He shoved a clipboard through Frank's window along with a ballpoint pen.
Frank looked it over. This was going to cost him, and his dad would be furious, but even worse was not knowing where Joe was. He scribbled his name and handed back the clipboard.
"Your father's Fenton Hardy?" the officer asked.
"Yes, sir," Frank said with no further comment. His dad was a former New York City detective, but Frank would never have mentioned his father's name or connections under these circumstances.
"He's not going to like this, I'd guess."
"No, sir. May I go now?" Frank was poised, ready to turn the key in the ignition.
"Let's see what my partner and your friend found." Delgado pointed out Nolan and Joe, who were just returning.
Nolan caught Delgado's eye and shook his head a couple of times. Joe, who was staring straight ahead, had a disgusted look on his face.
Delgado grinned. "Black limo? Life-or-death matter? Good try, Hardy," he said, and patted Frank's door once. "You are free, kid."
Frank turned then to Joe, who'd crawled into the passenger seat. "How'd you lose it?"
"The limo turned right and vanished, Frank." Joe bit his lip, looking at him.
"Vanished? You sure?"
"Sure. I'm sure. It wasn't that far ahead of me. There's an empty lot on one side, a fence around an old building on the other. I checked every car in this underground lot that it had to have turned into. Nothing."
"Let's check it out again." Frank drove the two blocks.
The underground lot was posted private, no parking, violators will be towed. Frank pulled onto the ramp despite the warnings. He wanted to see for himself.
"Let's look around again, Joe. It's our only lead. We can't give up."
"I'm not giving up," Joe said. "A car that big doesn't just disappear."
"It could have taken off by now," Frank said, calmly assessing the situation.
Either that or the black limo had disappeared into thin air. There was no clue of any kind. The boys even checked the walls for a button to a hidden panel, but they found nothing.
After driving back up the ramp, the Hardys carefully searched the area within a two-block radius. Nothing. Feeling dejected, they headed back to the underground parking lot and down the ramp. One more look-see, they decided.
They'd lost Annie to who knows who or what. They hopped out their doors — neither wanted to give up. Joe walked around the front of the van to join his brother.
"When are you going to call it quits, boys?" a man said, moving up on them from the rear of the van.
The Hardys spun around to face two men all in black. They wore black ski masks over their faces with only their eyes and mouths showing. But it wasn't the men's appearances that held the Hardys' attention.
It was the pair of Browning 9mm automatic pistols that they had aimed at the brothers' hearts.
Frank and Joe barely had time to exchange a glance before they were grabbed and had their hands securely tied behind their backs and - blindfolds knotted into place across their eyes.
"What have you done with Annie?" Joe demanded. He and Frank'stumbled as they were prodded to move blindly forward.
"Ain't that sweet, Clive? The kid's worried about his girlfriend."
"If you've hurt her ... " Joe's threat died out as he realized there was nothing he could do at the moment.
"What'll you do about it? You gonna be a hero?" The thug laughed. "We got us a Prince Charming, Clive."
"Shut up, Hodge. Just move along."
Frank was trying to memorize by smell and sound where they were being taken. They didn't walk far before they entered an elevator. A strong chemical smell, not unlike that of shoe polish, permeated the space.
The smell disappeared the minute they left the elevator. There was a deep carpet underfoot now, and they were being led down what seemed to be a long hall.
"Good evening, boys," a voice greeted them just before their blindfolds were removed. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but you'll soon appreciate the reason for this secrecy."
Frank blinked twice to focus his eyes. Then he looked around, amazed. The men who had grabbed them were now wearing mirrored sunglasses instead of their ski masks.
The office they were in was decorated only in black and white. Walls were stark white, broken up randomly by a series of black and white abstract paintings. The carpet at their feet, deep and luxurious, was slightly off-white. The desktop in front of them looked as if it were fashioned from one solid piece of pure black marble.
And behind the desk, leaning back casually in a large office chair, sat a tall man. His long legs were crossed at the ankles and were resting on the marble top as if he were attending a casual meeting. He wore a finely tailored black business suit. His hair had been recently styled, but the boys couldn't see his eyes. They were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.
And he wore diamonds. Many diamonds. On his right pinkie finger, on top of a thin, white leather glove, he sported an enormous, many-faceted diamond ring. A small diamond sparkled in the lobe of one of his ears. And the finishing touch was a diamond stickpin pushed jauntily into his black tie. Frank was no expert, but it hardly took a jeweler to appraise the stone in that ring. If the diamond was real, it had to be worth at least a million.
The man's tone as he greeted them was that of a polite host at a party. He smiled. But his smile was as cold and hard as the diamond in his tie pin And his gloved hands he kept to himself, the fingers interlocked and resting on his outstretched legs.
"Who are you?" asked Joe, shrugging off the hands that still held him. Where's Annie?"
"I'm right here, Joe." Annie's voice came from behind them as a third man pushed her forward.
"Are you all right, Annie?" Joe started to move to her, but strong hands kept him where he was.
"I — I guess so," Annie stammered.
On the desk in front of the head man, Frank recognized the black purse that Annie had kept clutched to her. Its contents were spilled out across a white blotter. Frank's quick eye inventoried the contents, and he was surprised to find that Annie had been hiding a secret.
She was in possession of a gun. Why would a girl who was a waitress in a pizza joint need to be armed?
"What do you want with us?" Joe asked, growing more impatient.
The man smiled again, perfect white teeth glittering in his wide mouth. "Forgive me for not making the introductions. My name is Cutter, Mr. Cutter. You are Frank and Joe Hardy, are you not?"
"How do you know that?" Joe asked.
Cutter chuckled. "I don't bring in visitors without knowing their identities."
"Do you always tie up and blindfold your guests?" asked Frank, trying to decide how much danger they were in.
"Untie them," Cutter commanded, gracefully lowering his legs to the floor. "It was merely a precaution. But on to the business at hand." He pushed the contents of Annie's purse—minus the gun—back into the bag. Annie stepped forward to claim it, anger in her movements.
The man slowly smiled at her. And then he quickly relaxed the gesture of friendliness and tightened his lips into a straight line. "Where are the diamonds, Annie? Phil double-crossed me, but I know you can't be that foolish."
Frank and Joe stared at the tall red-haired girl beside them, waiting for her answer.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she protested. "I've told you ..."
"You were good friends with Phil Sidler — "
Annie cut him off. "A while ago. I'm not responsible for what he was involved in now. So bringing me here is a waste of time."
Frank couldn't tell if Annie was bluffing or not. But he had spent enough time with her that day to know that she was a fairly competent actress. Was she acting now?
Cutter sat forward, his impatience growing. "So far, I have treated you as my guest, Annie, you and your friends here. I'm a patient man, but I have been known to lose my patience. At which point I have ways of getting the information I need."
"She told you she knew nothing," said Joe, stepping toward Cutter's desk.
At Cutter's signal, the three henchmen moved forward to take Annie's, Frank's, and Joe's arms once again. "You impress me as intelligent young people—if a bit reckless. In my experience, young people never have all the money they'd like. I'm in a very lucrative business, and good help is hard to find. I'll tell you what I'm going to do."
He paused for effect, looking at each of his prisoners. "I can guarantee you each a more - than-generous salary, and a bonus for each job well done. I would, of course, expect Annie to return the items in her possession that belong to me. This would indicate her willingness to join me. I'll give you time to think over my offer." Cutter stood up then and indicated with a turn of his head that Joe, Frank, and Annie were to be escorted from his office.
The gun between Frank's shoulder blades kept him from protesting or trying to get away. The trio was led down a hall and shoved into another room. The lock clicked behind them.
The room was a small gym, fitted with weight machines, a stationary bike, a rowing machine, and mirrors.
Frank looked around. "Nothing like the Y, is it?" he said, making an attempt at humor. "Listen, Annie, whatever you're mixed up in, it's time to level with us. Obviously we're on the same side for the moment." He gave her a searching look. When she didn't answer, he said, "I think you'd better start by explaining why you were carrying a gun."
"Wouldn't you—if you were me?" Annie exploded angrily. Then she reined in her fury. "I was scared," she said. "When that man attacked me in my own apartment — of course I wanted to defend myself." Her hazel eyes pleaded with Frank to understand. "The gun is my father's," she said. "I took it when I left home. He was — well, he was pretty abusive, and I was afraid he might go crazy and come after me with it when he found out I was gone. I decided to keep it when I got to Bayport—just in case. I was on myi own, after all."
She glanced at Joe, whose level gaze had never left her. "I never would have used it," she said weakly, trying to smile at him.
"What about you and Phil?" Frank demanded.
Annie released a deep breath. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Cutter. I have no idea what Phil Sidler was involved in now. My bad luck was that I cared for him. I met him when I was in high school. I was just a kid."
It wasn't as if Annie was an old lady now. Frank wasn't sure he believed her, but he had no choice but to let the matter drop.
"Okay, here's the way I figure it." He leaned back against the saddle of the bicycle. "Cutter's behind all the jewel robberies in the area for the last several months, maybe longer. Obviously he specializes in diamonds. Phil Sidler double crossed him, and because Phil contacted Annie, Cutter now thinks Annie has the diamonds or knows where they are." Frank held up a hand, palm out, to stop Annie from protesting again "He thinks cutting us in is the easiest way to get the diamonds back," added Joe, relieved that Frank wasn't dumping on Annie anymore. "Right now we've got two choices. We can pretend to join them. Or we can try to get out of here."