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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Dangerous Transmission
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Joe raced the four blocks to the Underground station. At each intersection he paused for a moment, listening for footsteps or the whirring of bicycle wheels or a vehicle motor. There was nothing.

He clambered down the five flights to the Underground in record time. There were a few people waiting for the train, but he saw no one familiar. He didn't recognize any of the people waiting as the person who slammed out of Jax's flat and pushed Frank down the stairs. Of course, he hadn't really seen the figure—but no one in the station looked at all suspicious. He decided to hang around there for a few minutes, though, to see if the person showed up.

A peculiar loud noise interrupted the familiar sound of subway trains coming and going. Joe looked to his left and saw a strange-looking yellow car moving by itself about two miles an hour along the track. It had no windows or doors. “What kind of car is that?” he asked an Underground security guard who was also watching it.

“It's our new tunnel cleaning train,” the guard answered, raising his voice as the car passed by. “We're trying it out. It takes in about two million pounds of trash and garbage a day.”

“What's the most unusual thing it ever picked up?” Joe asked.

“I never saw it myself, but I hear we got a mattress once,” the guard said, shrugging. “But mostly, lots of umbrellas, cell phones, garbage, and clothing.”

Joe waited and watched the platform for a few more minutes, then decided to return to the flat. All the way back, he kept his senses alert, watching and listening for a sign that the intruder was still nearby.

•  •  •

While Joe was tracking the intruder, Frank and Jax checked out the flat. At first Frank felt a little woozy from his slamdunk to the bottom of the stairs. But he grew stronger with every step. Careful not to disturb any possible evidence, he led Jax through the living quarters and then into the medical suite.

When they got to Jax's medical lab, Frank stopped. “Where do you keep your invention—the Molar Mike?” he asked.

“It's in my medical office,” Jax answered.

Jax started toward the office. As Frank followed, he noticed something glimmering on the floor. “Just a minute,” he called out. He walked over and crouched near where he'd seen the glow. A piece of gray metal lay on the floor.

“It's shaped like part of a leaf,” Jax observed, crouching down with Frank.

Frank reached for a tissue off the lab counter. Then he used it like a glove to turn the piece of
metal over. “There's part of a hinge on one end,” he said. “It might be half of a clasp. Have you ever seen this before?”

“Never,” Jax said.

“Do you have a camera in here?” Frank asked.

“Sure,” Jax said. “It's one of those instant ones.” He went to a closet, got the camera, and brought it over.

“Perfect,” Frank said. He took one shot of the front of the pewter fragment, and another of the back. Then he folded the tissue over the metal and slipped the package into an envelope.

While Frank took the pictures, Jax went into his office. “The Molar Mike's still there,” he reported, quickly returning to the lab.

Frank heard the police car, and he and Jax went to the door. Joe arrived at the same time.

“You okay?” Joe asked his brother. “We took quite a roll out there.”

“I don't even remember it,” Frank said. “I got slammed from behind, and then I blacked out, I guess. What happened exactly? Someone was inside the flat?”

“Until you started to open the door,” Joe said, nodding.

“Right,” Frank said. He thought back to the moment at the top of the steps. “Now I remember. I tried to turn the key, but it wouldn't budge.”

“The person inside was probably jamming the
lock,” Joe pointed out. “Then he—or she—came barreling out, knocked into you, Frank, and shoved you down the stairs into me. We both ended up on the ground. The intruder jumped over the stair railing and ran off. I took off after him but lost the person's trail in the Underground.”

“Can you describe the person any better?” the policeman asked, introducing himself as Officer Somerset.

“Well, I didn't get a really good look,” Joe said. “I think it was a man—but it could have been a woman, I guess. Pretty athletic. He dropped from the landing over the stairway, and took right off. Outran me for several blocks.”

“How about clothing?” the officer prompted.

“Dark pants and jacket, black cap with a little brim on the front . . . I couldn't see any hair.” Joe stopped for a moment to think back. “Medium build,” he continued, “a few inches less than six feet tall, maybe.”

“This person didn't speak?” the policeman asked.

“No,” Joe said, shaking his head. “Have you had a chance to look around?” he asked Jax. “Is anything missing?”

“Not that I've discovered,” Jax said.

“I found something,” Frank said. He reached inside the envelope, pulled out the lumpy piece of tissue, and peeled back the ends of the paper to reveal the small piece of pewter.

“It could be a piece of jewelry or an ornament of some kind,” the policeman suggested. Frank refolded the package and put it back in the envelope. Then he handed it to the officer.

Frank, Joe, Jax, and the policeman made another quick tour of the flat but found nothing else. “Let me know if you discover anything missing or find anything suspicious,” the policeman told Jax, handing him a card with a telephone number.

After the officer left, the Hardys helped Jax make one more security check around the second floor. They checked all door and window locks.

When the Hardys finally hit the beds in Jax's guest room, it was two o'clock in the morning. Frank was still wired from the day's excitement. “Looks like this is going to be a working vacation,” he said to Joe.

“Are you talking about the fire at the Tower or the break-in here?” Joe asked.

“The break-in,” Frank said. “It looks like the fire could've been an accident. I'm not sure why anyone would burn the exhibit. But I can see why someone might rob Jax, can't you?”

“You're talking about the Molar Mike, right?” Joe guessed.

“You got it,” Frank answered. “That thing's rigged so people can get messages from a computer or a cell phone. It opens up all sorts of possibilities.”

“Uh huh,” Joe agreed. “For good and bad. If
someone can program a computer to communicate with a tooth receiver—”

“Someone else can hack in and change the program,” Frank said, finishing his brother's sentence.

“Exactly.”

“That pewter piece might help us,” Frank pointed out. “I took a photo of it before the policeman got here.”

Joe heard the rhythmic breathing that told him his brother was falling asleep.

Joe turned over and tried to get his mind to shut down. As he finally felt sleep coming on, a peculiar sound reached his ears.

Joe fought back the drowsiness and turned on his back.
Skrrrrt. Skrrrrt.
The odd sound drifted through the air again.
It's like a scraping noise,
Joe thought.
And it's coming from up there.
He looked at the ceiling. When he heard the sound again, he reached over and punched Frank's bed.

“Wake up,” he whispered. “Frank! Wake up.”

“Mmmmmmm, this better be good. What's up?”

“Listen,” Joe whispered.

Frank sat up and shook his head.

The Hardys sat still. Joe strained to hear the sound again, but there was nothing. Then, as he turned to swing his legs out from under the blankets, he heard a thump on the ceiling.

“Whoa,” Frank said. “There's something up on the third floor.”

“I heard a scraping sound earlier,” Joe said, his voice low. He pulled sneakers on as he talked. “There's definitely something moving around up there.”

“That's supposed to be an unoccupied flat,” Frank reminded his brother. “Jax told us that he and the other shopkeeper in this building use it for storage since there's no one living there. Maybe it's the jeweler, checking some of his stuff.”

“At this hour?” Joe wondered. “Maybe. If it's not him, though, who—or what—could it be?” Joe asked.

“Could be just a rat or a mouse,” Frank pointed out. “Or a bird that got trapped in there. Let's check it out.”

The Hardys grabbed flashlights, left Jax's living quarters, and quietly moved into the medical suite. They walked through the reception area and into the hallway that led to the examination rooms. At the end of the hall was the lab and the door leading to the stairway up to the third floor.

They had to move slowly. The old building had creaky floorboards and stairs. They took each step very carefully, so as not to make any noise.

Finally they reached the top floor. It was very dark, but they could tell they were in a hallway. Frank turned on his penlight and aimed the beam at the wooden floor. He waited a minute but didn't hear anything, so he cautiously moved the light around the hall.

In the shadows he could see that at the end of the short hall stood a wooden door with a dark, frosted glass windowpane in the top half.

“There's no light in there,” Frank whispered. “So it's probably not the jeweler.”

Frank and Joe stepped silently down the hall toward the door. As they got closer Frank lowered his light so that it shone only on the floor. The beam reflected off the dusty floor back up to his face, causing an eerie light effect.

When he reached the door, Frank put his ear next to it, coming as close to the door as he could without actually touching it. He heard nothing and gestured that message to Joe.

Frank grasped the doorknob tightly. He focused on turning the knob slowly and silently. He wasn't surprised to find it was not locked. When he heard the latch click, he stood very still for a moment. But he heard no sound from the other side of the door.

Keeping his right hand clenched around the doorknob, he reached over with his left hand and inched the door open.

He gazed through the narrow opening into inky blackness beyond. He could feel Joe take a small gasp of air, and realized that both of them had been holding their breath. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Then he pushed the door open farther, and he and Joe stepped inside the dark space.

Frank sidled around the edge of the room. As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness, he began to see shapes. A narrow glow from a distant window formed silhouettes and shadows across the room. He began to make out stacked boxes and packages and pieces of furniture. Mounted animal head shapes jutted out from the wall, and glass eyes seemed to follow the boys' movements.

Frank and Joe continued to circle the large room, staying hidden behind the stored objects. Frank concentrated on his sense of hearing, listening for the slightest sound other than the barely perceptible ones that he and Joe made.

Frank jumped a little when he felt Joe's hand pull on his arm. Then Joe stepped behind a stack of boxes, nodding his head toward the left.

Frank ducked down behind a desk chair. He focused his hearing toward the direction in which Joe had nodded.

He heard the eerie sound immediately, and it was only a few yards away. Someone—or
something
—was breathing very fast.

Frank looked over at Joe, who gave him a knowing nod. Joe gestured that he was going to circle around and try to get behind the source of the breathing.

Frank peered around from behind the chair and watched Joe's silhouette inch through the stacks and piles. He saw Joe pick up a chair leg that was leaning against a table.

For a moment the room was still. Then a bulky shape jumped out from behind a stack of cartons and lunged toward Joe.

“Joe—watch out!” Frank yelled. He clicked on his light. A man, caught in the beam, reversed his direction and swung around to face Frank. Then the man grabbed a hatbox and threw it at Frank's light.

Frank jumped back, and the hatbox crashed to the floor and popped open. Like a bowling ball headed toward a spare, the contents of the box rolled to a stop at Frank's legs. He swung the light beam down to his feet.

Smiling up at him was a human head.

4 The False Tooth?

Breathing fast, Frank tore his attention away from the head at his feet and looked up. He saw Joe's shadow—complete with the raised table leg—stand up behind a lumpy figure. Frank quickly aimed his light in that direction.

“Don't move,” Joe said to the man in front of him. The light beam caught the stranger's ruddy, puffy face. Frank quickly zigzagged the light across the man's body. He was wearing a bright red-and-white workout suit. The man raised his hands, palms out, to show that he had no weapon.

Joe lowered the table leg and walked back to the door. He flipped on the overhead light, and Frank turned off his penlight and put it away.

“Who are you?” Frank asked.

“I might ask the same of you,” the man fired back. He had a slight French accent.

“We are up here to investigate a trespasser,” Joe said. “Answer my question: Who are you, and why are you in this room?”

The stranger looked around. “This is my storage room,” he answered. “I've been doing some inventory work.

“At this time of night?” Frank asked.

“In the dark?” Joe added.

“What's going on?” Jax asked as he slammed open the door. “Pierre! What are you doing here?”

A startled look flashed across the man's face. Then he vaulted over a couple of boxes and raced for the door. Joe and Jax stepped in front of him and blocked his path. The man's face was streaked with dark red flushes. As Pierre's hands drew up into fists, Frank stepped over to join the other two.

The stranger seemed to realize he was no match for three young men, so he relaxed his stance and shrugged. Slowly the red receded from from his skin, indicating that he was beginning to calm down a little.

BOOK: The Dangerous Transmission
5.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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