Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
“Where are we going?” Joe asked from the backseat. The captain didn't respond. In silence, he turned right down a main avenue, then left down a side street, and finally pulled into a dead-end street very much like the one where he'd cornered the Hardys earlier. At the head of the street were two squad cars, their blue and red lights flashing.
Under a palm tree, in front of a run-down bungalow, Joe spotted a small blue car with rental plates. “Have a look inside,” Kanekahana said.
The Hardys got out of the squad car and
walked over to the sedan. There in the front seat, with the thermos containing their last roll of film on the seat beside him, was Richard De La Rosa. His mouth and eyes were open, and a look of frozen terror filled his face. A gun lay in his limp hand.
“A dead man is not a pretty sight, is it?” Kanekahana muttered. “Not a pretty sight at all.”
D
UMBSTRUCK,
Joe turned to Frank, then to Kanekahana. “It looks like a clear-cut case of suicide,” the captain said, handing Joe a note in a plastic evidence envelope. “We found this on the seat beside him. There weren't any prints on it except his. I think it makes everything pretty clear.”
Joe read the note out loud. “âI stole the money from the foundation. Michele kept accusing me of it, and I always denied it. Then last week she told Ebersol, and he started threatening to prosecute me. I had to kill himâthere was no other way. I tried to kill Michele, too. I would have succeeded if those two kids hadn't interfered.
“âIt's all over for me now. I deserve what I got. I don't ask for forgiveness, but I hope those I have hurt will forgive me anyway. R. De La Rosa.'”
The entire note was typed, including the name, Joe noticed.
“I know what you're thinking,” Kanekahana said. “Why didn't he sign it? I've been asking myself the same question. But I think the answer is that there's no telling how an agitated person's going to act. Or maybe there was no pen or pencil around.”
“Or maybe he didn't write the note,” Frank said levelly. “Maybe someone wrote it for him. I'm surprised that didn't occur to you, Captain. Especially since Tim Wheeler is still missing.”
“Wrong,” Kanekahana said heavily. “My men picked Wheeler up coming down Saddle Road after he fled from the observatory. He's been freed already because of this note.
“Look, you two,” he added, meeting the Hardys' gazes squarely. “I admit I was wrong about Wheeler. I guess my own wishful thinking clouded my judgment. And I apologize for taking you in. Consider yourselves free to come and go as you please. This case is closed.”
“Wait a minute, Captain!” Joe broke in. “How can you be sure this is a suicide? I agree that Wheeler didn't kill Ebersol, but you can't
be sure De La Rosa did, either. What if Michele or someone else killed De La Rosa and planted this note? Remember, De La Rosa was the manager of a foundation. He would know enough about legal matters to realize that a typed signature isn't very convincing.”
The captain took the note back from Joe, a look of sheer irritation on his face. “I said I was sorry for hauling you in. Don't make me do it again, okay? Just go on back to your hotel and let me take care of things.”
“But what about Joe's point?” Frank persisted. “It's entirely possible that Michele Ebersol could have murdered De La Rosa.”
“Wrong! She couldn't have,” Kanekahana said triumphantly. “My men were watching her all day, and she never left her beach house. I only called off the surveillance after we found De La Rosa's body.”
“Are you sure it was wise to call off your men so soon, Captain?” Frank asked.
“Don't forget about MacLaughlin, either,” Joe pointed out. “He's been missing all day, hasn't he? His van got fried at the observatory, but where is he?”
“Maybe blown to bits,” Kanekahana said. “In any case, he couldn't have killed Ebersol. By your own testimony, he was in your tent with you when the murder was committed.” He held out both hands to indicate that the
point was obvious and that the conversation was over.
“By the way,” he said, changing the subject, “can you two get back to your hotel on your own? Or do you need a lift?”
“It's not far. We can walk,” Joe answered. “We'd like to stick around for a while, though, just in case you come up with some new information.”
“I doubt that will happen,” the captain said with a shrug. “But you're welcome to stay. I realize I've been wrong about you. I hope there are no hard feelings?”
Having been proven wrong, Kanekahana, Joe realized, was now trying to make amends to keep from getting in trouble for the way he'd treated them.
“Captain,” Frank said, “we'll let it all go, no problem. But on one condition. You've got to at least consider the possibility that De La Rosa didn't kill himself.”
Kanekahana opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, another officer came up to him.
“No prints on that thermos, Captain,” the officer said. “Should we open it now, or do you want to take it back to the bomb squad?”
“Bomb squad?” Frank repeated. “No, that's our infrared film in there!”
“What's so important about a roll of film?
That's what I'd like to know!” Kanekahana exploded.
“I have no idea,” Frank admitted. “But De La Rosaâor whoever's behind all thisâmust have thought it was important, or he wouldn't have gone to such trouble to steal it.”
“Hey!” Joe said, snapping his fingers. “I just remembered something. MacLaughlin was going to meet us at the observatory at four o'clock. If he's alive, he might be there for our meeting.”
Kanekahana checked his watch. “It's twenty of four now,” he said, “Tell you what. I'd like to see what's on that film of yours. I'll make you a dealâI'll drive you up to the observatory, and we'll keep a guard on you while you develop the film. Then you hand it over to me as potential evidence.”
Joe and Frank looked at each other. “Does this mean we're back on the case?” Frank asked. “With your approval?”
“What case?” Kanekahana sighed, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “As far as Fm concerned, this case is just about closed. We're just tying up some minor loose ends. Now let's get going.”
MacLaughlin never showed up for the four o'clock meeting. It took about an hour for the Hardys to get the darkroom set up and
refrigerated. The staff at the observatory were very cooperative, especially when they saw the police escort that had come with the Hardys.
After another hour the film was developed and ready. Frank and Joe stood in the darkroom with the lights on, examining their handiwork.
The photos were about one inch by one inch, and had yet to be enlarged. For now, they were on contact sheets, which Frank held up to the light. Each frame had a small clock face in the lower left-hand corner to indicate the precise time the photograph was taken. Thirty-three of the thirty-five pictures had been shot over a space of fifty seconds.
“Gee,” Joe said sadly. “It makes you realize how much of our stuff is still missing. How many rolls did we take? Nine?”
“Yup,” Frank answered, sighing. “These are great, though. And lookâcould that be the ring of debris we were hoping to find?”
Joe squinted his eyes to get a better look. There, in the bottom third of the photo, was a faint blur that looked something like the rings around the planet Saturn. “That could be it,” Joe said eagerly. “It's hard to tell until we enlarge it.”
“Wait a minute,” Frank said, peering intently
at the top left picture, the very first one taken. “What happened here?”
Joe scrutinized the photo. The image was marred by what was a radiating semicircle that filled the bottom half of the picture. “What's that?” he asked.
“Beats me,” Frank replied. “Let's enlarge it.”
The enlargement process took them another few minutes. To Joe's surprise, the shot was neither a double exposure nor a flaw in the film. “That's someone's head!” he cried. “I must have shot this picture by accident while I was handing the camera over to you.”
“Can
you
make out who it is?” Frank asked.
Joe took a closer look, but because this was an infrared photograph, a picture of the heat emanating from objects, not of the objects themselves, it was impossible to tell who might have entered the tent. “You'd think we'd have heard someone entering the tent,” Joe remarked.
“Not if they didn't want us to,” Frank said. “Remember, it was pitch-dark, and the air conditioners were making quite a racket.”
“What do you say we show these to Kanekahana?” Joe asked. “Much as I hate to turn any evidence over to that guy, we did promise.”
Frank nodded. “But first, let's enlarge the
rest of these. Maybe we'll find something else important.”
When they had finished, the boys had thirtytwo clear views of the sun, many showing the ring of debris Ebersol had predicted would be there. “Wait till MacLaughlin sees these!” Joe enthused. Then he realized something. “If he's still alive, that is.”
“They sure do look convincing,” Frank said, gathering them up. “But except for this first one, they don't help us with Ebersol's murder. Let's go show Kanekahana what we've got,”
The captain was impressed with the accidental photo and asked Joe to explain how it was taken. “I loaded one camera while Frank shot the eclipse with the other,” Joe explained. “When his roll was empty, he handed his camera to me to reload, and I handed him the fully loaded one.”
“I see,” said Kanekahana. “Now why would someone have come into your tent in the middle of the eclipse?” he asked. “And what does that have to do with Ebersol's murder?”
Before anyone could answer, an officer sprinted up to them. “Captain!” he said, breathing hard. “We just got a call from the emergency room at Kailua Hospital. They found MacLaughlin!”
“T
HEY FOUND
MacLaughlin?” Kanekahana repeated. “Then he's alive?”
“He's alive, but he's pretty banged up,” the man answered. “According to the nurse who called the station house, he's suffering from scratches and bruises, plus some confusion and dizziness.”
“All right, let's get down there.” Turning to the Hardys, he said, “You two can go back to your hotel now, or take a swim, or whatever. I'm going to head over to the hospital. I promise we'll take good care of these photographs.”
“Hold it, Captain,” Joe insisted. “We're coming with you.”
“We want to see MacLaughlin,” Frank added.
“The man's in the hospital,” Kanekahana said. “It's bad enough I'm going to have to interview him. If you want to talk to him, it can wait till morning.”
“We want to know where he's been, and what happened to him,” Joe said. “It may have a lot to tell us about the explosion up there at the observatory. De La Rosa didn't mention the explosion in his suicide note, remember?”
The captain looked them over and shook his head. “Oh, all right,” he said with a reluctant smile. “I suppose as long as I'm there, you'll be able to stay out of trouble. Why don't you take your own car, though, and follow me down there.”
“That's right,” Frank said. “I forgot our car was still here. We'll see you at the hospital, Captain. Come on, Joe.”
Frank and Joe raced for their car and followed the squad car down to Kailua Hospital. On the way they passed the busy Kailua strip, which was full of tourists sampling the various clubs, restaurants, and shops. Joe wished he could check some of them out instead of checking out the hospital, but a pleasure trip to Hawaii would have to wait for another time.
MacLaughlin was in one of the examination rooms just off the emergency room. He was sitting up on the gurney, staring at his ankles,
when Frank, Joe, and Kanekahana entered with the attending physician.