Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
Highway Robbery (3 page)
"Just paying a get-well call on Tony's cousin," Frank said quickly.
"That's right, Chief Deputy," Joe added. "We're cheering him up with our presence."
"Well, boys, your presence doesn't work that way on me," MacReedy answered curtly. "I've had my fill of you. Visiting hours are over, so you three beat it while Mr. Simone and I talk."
"I have nothing to tell you," Mike said.
"Oh, you'd be surprised what you know," purred MacReedy. He glanced back at Frank and Joe and Tony. "You still here? I told you to move. Now do it."
"Take it easy, Mike," said Tony. He filed out of the room behind the Hardys.
Back in the van, Tony asked, "Why didn't you want me to tell Mike about finding that body?"
"Just being careful," said Frank.
Tony sounded insulted. "Hey, you think my cousin Mike is a crook?"
"Take it easy, Tony. We don't think anything like that," Joe assured him. "When we're working on a case, we like to keep information on a need-to-know basis. We trust Mike, but we don't know who he might talk to, or who they might talk to. See what I mean?"
"It's habit," Frank went on. "It keeps our cases more contained. Less chance for leaks."
"Well, all right, if you say so," Tony agreed.
Frank and Joe dropped Tony off at his house. Before driving away, they arranged to pick him up the next morning so he could introduce them to his uncle Matt.
Back at their house Frank and Joe found their father in his office, and they started to fill him in on their day. When they mentioned Chief Deputy MacReedy, Fenton narrowed his eyes.
"MacReedy?" he asked. "Kind of a rangy fellow with a bad temper?"
"That sounds like him," said Joe. "You two ever have a run-in of any kind?"
Fenton nodded. "When I first started in business here, I was hired to work on a fraud case. MacReedy was investigating it for the sheriff's office. He seemed like a good man, but a little too - in those days we called him too gung-ho. You felt he might get carried away in a situation, forget about procedure, cut a corner - that kind of thing.
"Well, he made an arrest," Fenton went on, "but he tampered with some evidence in order to nail it down tight, so he lost the perpetrator and went up on charges. Somehow he got it into his head that I was responsible, and ever since he's held it against me."
"That's a long time to hold a grudge," Frank commented.
Fenton leaned forward. "You don't want to get on his bad side. But since he knows you're my sons, you're already there. Steer clear of him as much as possible, boys."
"We'll try," Joe told their father. "But it looks like what he's working on connects with our investigation."
"Are you sure?" asked Fenton.
Frank nodded. "First, the dead man once worked for Lombard Hauling. Second, the hot goods that were being sold at that warehouse were made by Ultratech, and that's what has been hijacked." As he spoke he counted off the points on his fingers.
"By the way, Dad, could you look into a couple of things for us?" Joe asked.
"If I can. What do you need?"
"We need to know the record of this Mickey Vane - he's the one who got killed today."
"It'd be good to find out who owns the warehouse where they were selling the stolen electronics, too," said Frank. "And who was renting it and for how long."
They gave Fenton the address. As they were about to leave his office, he called out, "Frank? Joe? I know that you know how to watch out for yourselves, but you should really stay away from Lamar MacReedy." Fenton sounded casual, but Frank and Joe knew that he was concerned. "He'd be happy to have any excuse to get at you, if only to get back at me."
"We'll keep our heads down, Dad," replied Joe.
***
The next morning Frank, Joe, and Tony drove over to Lombard Hauling. Joe pulled the van in through the open gate and parked next to a medium-size garage with a loading dock on one side. A few small buildings were attached to the rear of the garage. Probably offices, Joe decided. Near the loading dock he saw a couple of mechanics working on tall, boxy truck cabs. A few trailers with Lombard painted on the sides in red stood empty, ready to receive the next loads. The place smelled familiar to Joe - gasoline, oil, and grease - all blended.
Tony led them past the garage to an outdoor entrance to the first building. Just as he raised his hand to knock, an angry voice pierced through the closed door and stopped him.
"You'll be hearing from us again, and you won't like it!" The door swung open and a middle-aged man in a lime green sports jacket and open-necked shirt stalked out. He was balding and stocky, with a pug nose and an angry flush on his face. He shoved between Frank and Joe and marched off.
"Uncle Matt?" called Tony.
"Come on in." Frank and Joe followed Tony inside to an office, where a tall, powerful-looking man was standing behind a desk. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, showing muscular arms. He looked like an older version of Mike, with close-trimmed frizzy white hair.
Frank checked out the office curiously. It wasn't exactly a plush office. The scarred wooden desk was stacked high with papers and folders that almost hid the phone. Maps tacked to the walls had routes drawn across them in felt-tip pen. The only other wall decoration was a calendar with a color photograph of a flashy customized truck.
"Who was that?" Tony asked his uncle.
"Aah." Matt waved a hand in disgust. "Lou Gerard. The union's new business agent for the local our people belong to. Forget about him."
He looked curiously at the Hardys.
Tony quickly jumped in. "Uncle Matt, this is Frank and Joe Hardy, the ones Mike told you about last night."
Matt sat back in his desk chair, his eyes still on Frank and Joe. "When Mike said something about detectives, he didn't mention you were kids. I don't know - "
"Uncle Matt," Tony said, "trust me. These two really get around. They may be young, but they aren't helpless. Go ahead, give them a try."
Matt shrugged. "How old are you two?"
"I'm eighteen," Frank answered, "and Joe is seventeen."
"Okay. Joe, legally you have to be eighteen to even start learning big rigs. I guess we can say you're an apprentice mechanic. Frank, you're too young to actually drive a rig, but you can be a driver's helper. You'll work with Pat Mulvaney, our top driver, until Mike gets back."
There was a knock at Matt's door, and a second later a man came in with a sheaf of papers. He had sandy hair and freckles, and several pens stuck out of a plastic pocket protector in his shirt.
"Frank, Joe, this is Felix Kinney," said Matt. "Frank and Joe are starting to work here, Felix. Felix is our numbers man - in charge of billing, schedules, bookkeeping."
Felix smiled and then said softly, "What there is of it these days, what with - "
"All right, Felix," Matt cut in gruffly. "Leave the papers and get back to work. And ask Pat to come in here."
After Felix had gone, Matt tilted his chair back against the wall behind him. "All right. What can I tell you?"
"Just fill us in on what's been going down," said Joe.
Matt nodded. "There have been three hijackings, all of Ultratech equipment. Every time the truck was completely cleaned out. On the first heist, I brought in the sheriff and my insurance paid Ultratech for the loss. The second time I was worried about how my insurance people would react, so I kept quiet and paid for the loss myself."
"What about this one?" Frank asked.
Matt sighed and shook his head. "I'll be able to cover this one, too - barely. But if there's another one - I don't know. It would just finish us. Some of my men are already talking about finding new jobs, before these are shot out from under them."
"This man Mickey Vane - " Frank began.
Matt glared up at him. "How do you know about him?" he demanded.
"We were at the hospital with Mike last night, when that deputy arrived," said Joe.
"Well, I can't tell you much," Matt said. "I hired him two years back, before I found out he had a record. If he'd told me about it up front, I might have kept him, but since he lied, I let him go as soon as I found out. I hadn't heard of him again till last night."
"Did MacReedy tell you that stolen Ultratech products were being sold out of the place where Vane's body was found?" Joe asked.
Matt's eyes widened. "No, he didn't. Unless - maybe he suspects I had something to do with it, but that's crazy!" His jaw clenched.
"Let that go for now," said Frank. "What's the problem between you and this man Lou Gerard?"
Matt's face took on a stony look. "Nothing. Forget about him. That's private business."
Frank shot Matt a probing look. "We can do our job only if you level with us."
Matt said nothing.
After an awkward silence, Tony said, "Well, I've got to get to work. I'll catch a bus outside. See you, guys, Uncle Matt."
"Tony!" Matt called out. "I'm trusting you not to tell your mother and father about any of this. There's no point in worrying them. Right?"
"If you say so, Uncle Matt," answered Tony, but he seemed a little uncomfortable with the idea.
Just after Tony left, a woman entered Matt's office. In her mid-forties, she was tall and fair with light brown hair. Her jeans and work shirt were grease stained.
Matt smiled. "Pat! Come in, sit down. This is Joe Hardy. He'll be learning the ropes in the garage. And his brother, Frank, here, is going to crew with you as your helper. Boys, meet Pat Mulvaney."
As they exchanged hellos, Pat noticed Joe staring at her. "Something wrong, Joe?"
Joe's face got red. "Well, no - I figured - that is, you're a woman!"
Matt laughed. "Say, you are a detective, aren't you! She's a fine driver, too. And she happens to be my wife's sister. She's someone I need and trust. So I want to let her in on why you two are here."
Pat listened, looking Frank over carefully as Matt explained. "You look healthy enough," she said with a smile. "It's about time Matt got someone to help get those crooks." Pat turned and headed back out the office door. "When you're finished talking with Matt, come out to the garage and I'll start your lessons."
After she'd gone, Joe said, "Mr. Simone - "
"Please. Make it 'Matt.' "
"Okay, Matt. I'm sure you're right to trust Pat about who we are, but - "
"Pat's my right arm around here," Matt interrupted, frowning.
Frank could see how defensive and gruff Matt was, but they had to get him to understand how important it was to maintain secrecy. Leaning forward, he tried to pick up where Joe had left off. "Matt, what you have to understand - "
Frank stopped abruptly as a shrill scream from the garage echoed through the room!
Matt jumped up and ran out of the office into the garage, Frank and Joe at his heels. The workers inside were staring at Pat Mulvaney, who was comforting a pretty dark-haired girl. The girl was shaking and trying to hold back tears.
"I - I'm s - s - sorry, I - it was just that I didn't expect it ... " the girl stammered.
"What happened?" Matt demanded when he reached them.
Pat's face was grim. "Teri wanted some papers that I'd put in the cab of this truck. She opened it - and found this."
Pat reached up into the cab and pulled out a large rat with a paper tied around its neck. "Is this someone's idea of a joke?" she asked no one in particular.
Joe took the rat from her and handed it to Matt.
"Is it - is that - real?" Teri asked with a small shiver. "Is it - dead?"
"It's not real," Joe reassured her. Just then he took a good look and noticed how cute Teri was, even though she was still terrified. "It's just an imitation, the kind of thing you'd buy in a joke shop. But it does look gross, all right."
Matt opened the note and studied it. Frank and Joe leaned in to read what had been printed in large block letters. It said: "RATS GET HURT WHEN THEY WON'T WISE UP."
Matt crumpled the note in his fist, his face red with anger. "When was this put here? You have any idea?"
"It could've happened any time since I pulled in yesterday," said Pat. "There've been a lot of people around."
Matt turned to the girl. "Teri, are you all right? It was just someone's bad idea of a joke, that's all."
Teri smiled weakly. "I know, it just caught me by surprise. What does that note mean? It sounds like a threat. Is someone mad at Pat?"
Matt shook his head. "No, honey, it's supposed to be a joke, and the joke is supposed to be on me." Joe was hoping Matt would explain what the so-called joke was about, but he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Matt just smiled at Teri and changed the subject. "Oh, hey, let me make some introductions, here. Frank, Joe, this is Teri Yarnell. She works with Felix on the books. Frank and Joe Hardy are our newest employees, Teri. Joe and Teri, you two come with me. Frank, stay here, and Pat can start showing you the inside of the cab of a big rig."
Frank didn't miss the sudden interest his brother was showing in Teri, and he smiled as Joe instantly struck up a conversation with her.
"Frank," said Pat, "hop up in the driver's seat, and I'll show you around."
Frank climbed up into the cab - and it was a climb. The seat was a good six feet off the ground, and Frank had to make his way up a series of metal rungs and footholds built into the cab wall. As he sat behind the wheel, he realized for the first time the wide view of the road a big rig driver has. On the dashboard in front of him was a bewildering collection of switches, knobs, dials, and lights.
Pat sat in the passenger seat. "Now, this particular truck has a standard or stick-shift transmission," she began. "You know what that means, right?"
Frank nodded. "It means you push in the clutch pedal to change gears." He tapped the pedal with his left foot.
"Right," said Pat. "Except in these rigs, you have to double-clutch - push the pedal once to get out of a gear and then again to get into the next one. Some trucks have automatic transmissions, but I don't care for them. Most truckers don't. Shifting is where we get one of the names we call ourselves - gearjammers. We do a lot of shifting. This truck has twelve forward gears. For the first six, you move the stick on the floor here, like this." She demonstrated the six gears. "And then you pull this lever and go through the same motions for gears seven through twelve.
