Eye on Crime
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
2
Iola and Callie Tell the Truth
4
Clueless at the Police Station
“So then Callie and I said, âSure, we'll go out with you guys. It's not like our boyfriends ever pay any attention to us.'Â ”
Joe Hardy nodded his head and grunted, but he never took his eyes off the newspaper his older brother, Frank, was holding to look at his girlfriend, Iola Morton. The four teenagers were sitting together in the audience at WBAY, Bayport's local television studio. They had come to the studio after school to watch the Thursday afternoon taping of
Monty Mania,
a comedy variety show that was fast becoming one of the hottest programs on syndicated television.
“It's useless,” Iola said to Callie Shaw. “Something more important than us has the dynamic
duo's attention.” Iola gently pushed on Joe's shoulder.
“Huh, uh, hey,” Joe said, looking up from the newspaper. Joe rubbed his shoulder even though the punch hadn't hurt at all.
“Hey, Joe,” Frank said. “It says hereâ” But before Frank could finish his sentence, Callie had grabbed the newspaper from his hands.
“It says here,” Callie said, “that it's pretty rude to be out with a couple of friends and have your head buried in the
Bayport Times.”
Frank looked at Callie. “Oh, I'm sorry,” he said sincerely. He gently nudged his brother with his elbow.
“Yeah,” Joe said. “I'm sorry.”
“It was wrong of us to ignore you like that,” Frank said. “It's just that we got caught up reading today's front-page news while we were waiting for you two to get here.”
“And this excuses your poor behavior now?” Iola asked.
The four friends sat in silence for a moment. Frank and Joe both eyed the newspaper, which was still clasped in Callie's hand.
“Ummm,” Joe groaned sheepishly.
“Oh, all right,” Callie said with a shrug of her shoulders. She handed the newspaper back to Frank. The blond-haired Hardy quickly unfolded the
Bayport Times
and straightened out the front page.
“What's so important in today's news, anyway?” Callie leaned over to get a better look at the headline.
“You had to ask,” Iola said, rolling her eyes. Then she, too, leaned in to read over Joe's shoulder.
“Something major involving some guys from Shoreham High School,” Frank said.
“Who?” Iola asked.
“Roberto Rojas and Pepper Wingfoot,” Joe responded.
“Whoa,” Callie said. “Those names sound familiar.”
“Sure do,” Frank answered. “They both play on Shoreham's baseball team.”
“So what did they do?” Callie asked.
“Allegedly
do,” Frank responded. “They were arrested for robbing the Bayport Jewelry Exchange last night.”
“That's a felony!” Iola exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Joe replied. Then he added, “What do you mean by âallegedly,' Frank? They were caught on video by the store's security system. They're nailed.”
“Not necessarily, Joe,” Frank replied. “Rojas and Wingfoot claim that they're innocent.”
“Doesn't every criminal?” Joe asked snidely.
“Well, in this country you
are
innocent until proven guilty,” Callie said.
“So how much did they get away with?” Iola asked.
“Allegedly got away with,” Frank said. “It says here nearly one million dollars' worth of jewels, which have yet to be recovered.”
“Uh-oh,” Callie said. “I don't like that tone in your voice.”
“Yeah,” Iola continued for her friend. “You're using words like âallegedly' and âyet to be recovered.' Are you two planning to get involved?”
“Involved!” Callie fixed Frank with a glare. “The last time you guys got involved in a case, Iola and I didn't see you for weeks.”
“Are you getting jealous?” Joe asked. He chuckled. “Do you miss us that much?”
Iola snickered. “Don't get too full of yourself, Joe. We just get tired of being left behind while you go off hunting down criminals or foiling robberies.”
“Or stopping kidnappings,” Callie added, “or rescuing lost puppies, orâ”
Frank interrupted. “You do sound jealous,” he said. “Maybe you two would like to do some crime solving. You know, get in on the action.”
“Our lives have plenty of action,” Callie said.
“That's right,” Iola said. “You two are the supersleuths, not us.”
“Methinks the ladies doth protest too much,” Frank said, flamboyantly gesturing with his arms. He looked at his brother and cocked an eyebrow.
“Methinks you doth be right,” Joe said. “Â 'Tis certainly jealousy.” The two young men grinned.
Callie and Iola sneered at the brothers, putting on their grimmest we-don't-find-you-funny looks.
“We saidâ” Iola began. But just then the stage lights came on, signaling that the show was about to begin. With the stage illuminated, the audience could see that a four-piece band had set up their equipment on the far left of the set. When the lights came up, the band began to play some funky jazz.
“Good afternoon, folks,” a man said as he walked out from behind a curtain and onto the stage. He wore a pullover shirt and slacks, and his blond hair was flattened by an audio headset.
“I'm Josh Symkins, assistant producer here at
Monty Mania.
Most shows get a comedian to come out to warm up the crowd, but you folks just get me. And trust me, even my own mother doesn't think I'm funny.”
The audience laughed politely and clapped. The band's drummer gave several quick taps on his snare drum.
“Thanks,” Symkins said. “Anyway, I'm out here to tell you some of the rules and to ask some favors.”
“Rules?” Joe mumbled under his breath.
“First of all,” Symkins said, “if any person here has a heart condition, high blood pressure, or an
ingrown toenail, be sure not to laugh too hard. My mother wanted a doctor, but she got me instead.”
The audience gave a genuine laugh to the assistant producer this time.
“Seriously, though, we here at
Monty Mania
need a favor. We can't afford to hire any other performers except for Monty and the wonderful Billy Thompson Band to entertain you.” Symkins pointed over to the band, which acknowledged him with a short fanfare.
“So,” the assistant producer continued, “we need you to help entertain yourselves. During the taping, Monty will ask for volunteers from the audience to come down to the stage to take part in the show. So again, heart patients; stressed-out, overworked grumps; and those with painful boo-boos need not apply. Monty likes to put his performers through their paces, and sometimes that means some hard work for anybody brave enough to be on television. So, are any of you brave enough?”
The audience filled the sound stage with hoots, whoops, and enthusiastic applause.
“Oh, one more thing you potential volunteers should know,” Symkins added. “Odds are, if you come down here, you will get hypnotized. After all, before he broke into television, Monty was a hypnotist of no repute. Now that he's famous, he wants to make you famous, too. So, if you have any secrets you don't want revealed to the rest of the
world, stay in your seats. If you come down here, Monty may just catch you with your pants down.”
The audience laughed once more. Symkins raised his hands to stop the applause.
“One more âone more thing,'Â ” he added. “Those who do participate in the show will not be returning to their seats. After you star up here, you have to meet with the studio's lawyers back there.” Symkins pointed offstage.
“You'll be required to sign some legal mumbo jumbo releasing the studio and its officials from any harm or liability that may result from your appearance here. But for your troubles, you'll get to meet Monty after the show for autographs and pictures, and we'll send you on your way with a complimentary videotape of your performance.”
Josh Symkins began to walk back behind the curtain. “So,” he said over his shoulder, “anyone still brave enough?”
“Wow!” Iola exclaimed as Symkins left the stage. “We should all volunteer to be on the show!”
“That's a great idea,” Callie said.
“Except,” Joe said, “we're all supposed to meet Chet and Tony right after the show. The AP made it sound like whoever volunteers would have to stick around for a while.”
“Oh, yeah,” Callie said, a little disappointed.
“Chet's my brother,” Iola said. “He won't mind if we're late.”
“How about this,” Frank said. “We came in two cars. If you girls want to volunteer for the show and actually get on, then Joe and I can go ahead and meet Chet and Tony and you can join us later. That way they won't be sitting around wondering where we all are.”
“Sounds good to me,” Iola said.
Just then the Billy Thompson Band drowned out the crowd's chatter with a rousing bass beat. As the music built, a booming voice introduced Monty Andrews. The flamboyant comedian's straight blond hair flapped against the collar of his red sports coat as he jogged from behind the curtain onto the stage. Monty held up his hands to acknowledge the audience's enthusiasm for his appearance.
“Okay, folks,” Monty said as the applause diminished. “I see we have a lot of kids in the audience. That gives me an idea. How about an all-teenagers
Monty Mania?”
The audience burst out with hoots and clapping.
“All right then,” Monty said. He grabbed a microphone from its stand and made his way into the audience.
“What's your name?” he asked, leaning over to put the mike in front of a teenage boy.
“Uh.” The boy hesitated.
“Ehhhh. Wrong!” Monty shouted. He pulled the mike away from the embarrassed teenager and
scanned the seats. His eyes locked on the enthusiastic smiles and waves of Callie and Iola.
“Whoa!” Monty said as he bounded across the aisle and up the steps to where Callie and Iola sat with Frank and Joe.
“And what are your names?” he asked, putting the microphone in front of the girls.
“Callie Shaw!”
“And Iola Morton!”
“You two want to make some television?”
“You bet!” the girls shouted in unison.
Monty pointed at Frank and Joe. “Are these your boyfriends?”
“Most of the time,” Iola said.
“What are your names?”
“Frank and Joe Hardy,” Joe answered.
“Well, Frank and Joe Hardy, mind if I steal your girlfriends?”
“Seems to be the theme of the day,” Frank answered.
Monty and the audience laughed. “Well, then, Callie and Iola, you are mine!”
Monty began to run down the stairs back to the stage. He motioned the two girls to follow him.
When the three had gathered on the stage, Monty explained what he wanted to do.
“I haven't hypnotized anybody since I talked a traffic cop out of a speeding ticket this morning. So, let's start with that.”
Monty quickly went through his hypnotism routine, putting both girls into a deep trance.
“Under hypnosis,” Monty explained to the audience, “you can get people to do things they normally would never do in public. However, you can never get somebody to go against their true nature, so we won't be able to get these two to do anything that isn't already hidden deep inside of them. Let's see if they're really under.”
Monty pointed out into the audience.
“Frank and Joe Hardy, what would you like your girlfriends to do? Within reason, of course.”
Frank and Joe looked at each other. “Oh, I know,” Joe said. “Ask them what their favorite animals are and then have them become those animals.”
“A standard request,” Monty answered, “but always good for a laugh.”
The hypnotist asked Callie and Iola what their favorite animals were, and soon Callie was purring like a kitten, romping around the stage after an imaginary ball of string, while Iola galloped around like a horse romping through the woods.
When Monty corralled the two girls, he had them stop being animals.
