The Demolition Mission (3 page)

“Let's go on back to my office, and I'll get it for you. Then I'd better find Marvin to help me repair the prototype.”

Frank took a last look around the assembly building. Suddenly he spotted a small object lying on the floor. He picked it up and glanced at it quickly. It was made of plastic, but Frank couldn't identify it. He slipped it into his pocket and hurried out of the garage behind his brother.

Chet and Katie were in the lead as the group approached the large overhead door leading into Building A.

“Oh, no!” Katie exclaimed as she stepped out of the sun into the dimness of the garage.

“What's wrong now?” Felix Stock demanded.

“Everything!” Katie Bratton gasped. “The Saurion's gone!”

“Don't touch anything,” Joe Hardy ordered, looking around the empty garage, where the Saurion had been parked only minutes before.

“How could this happen?” Katie said in disbelief.

“I'm finished,” Felix Stock said with a groan.

“There's a rational explanation for this,” Frank said to Stock. “Cars don't just disappear.”

“It couldn't have been driven out of here,” Chet said. “We would have heard it.”

“And if someone towed it, we would have heard that noise, too. We weren't so far away,” Joe added.

“Maybe it was pushed,” Frank said. “We left the overhead door open. Pushing it wouldn't have made much noise.”

“But where was it pushed?” Felix Stock asked in an exasperated tone. “And how far could anyone push it?”

Joe studied the concrete floor where the Saurion had been parked. “There aren't any tracks,” he announced, gazing around the room.

He noticed an overhead door at the back of the garage. Crates had been piled up against it. “There's a fine coating of dust on the floor at the back and sides of the garage, and there aren't even tracks from when we drove the Saurion in. It looks to me like the floor has been swept.”

“I'm going to call the main gate to see if the guard has seen the Saurion,” Stock announced. He headed for his office at the back of the building. Katie stayed with the Hardys and Chet.

Frank took the small plastic object out of his pocket and handed it to his brother. “I found this in Building C, back in the corner where Stock keeps his jacks,” Frank said. “Got any idea what it is?”

Turning toward the outside light, Joe studied the matchbook-size piece of black plastic. He noticed several color-coded wires coming out of one end. Joe shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “But let's hold on to it. It could be a clue.”

Just then, Stock walked back over to them. “No one has entered or left the speedway grounds in the past half hour,” he announced. He handed Frank a printout that listed his current employees.

“That means the Saurion is still here somewhere, probably hidden nearby,” Frank said.

Joe held up the black plastic object Frank had found and asked Stock, “Is this a part out of the Saurion?”

Frowning, Stock studied the tiny piece of plastic. “No,” he said. “I've never seen it before.”

“It's definitely not just a doodad,” Chet said, looking over Felix Stock's shoulders. “Could be a gizmo or a widget.”

“How would we ever solve any cases without you?” Joe said with a sigh.

“Actually, we need your help right now,” Frank told Chet. “Joe and I are going to search the grounds for the Saurion. While we do that, you take the gizmo around and ask every mechanic and driver you see if they can identify it.”

“You can use my golf cart,” Felix Stock said quickly, noticing the pained look on Chet's face. “It might take you a while to walk around the grounds.”

“If you want to find the car,” Katie Bratton said knowingly, “I'd start at Miyagi Motors.”

“That's a serious accusation,” Joe said quietly. “Do you have any evidence?”

“If you work around auto racing,” Katie said, untying her red silk scarf and combing her hair with her fingers, “you hear things.”

“Things like what?” Frank asked.

“Just talk, mostly out at the Circuit Diner,” she said. “It's up on Shore Road.”

“The Circuit's a hangout for race drivers and the guys over at Kiser's demolition derby,” Stock explained.

“A diner,” Chet said, his face brightening. “Why don't we start our investigating over there?”

Joe ignored Chet's suggestion. “Is there a backup car for the race?” he asked Stock.

“No prototype, no race,” Felix replied sadly. “And without that race, I'm afraid the Saurion will be a dud. I was counting on the publicity from the race to launch the car onto the market.” He rubbed his forehead slowly. “Unless Marvin, Katie, and I can prepare one of those production models,” he said.

“We can do it,” Katie insisted.

Joe handed Chet the plastic block and said, “You know what you have to do.”

“Right,” Chet said as he jogged toward a golf cart parked in front of the building.

“Okay, let's search the area,” Frank said in a determined tone.

When they stepped outside the garage, Joe bent down and inspected the aged blacktop paving. Frank examined the small grassy area in between the buildings.

“No tracks,” Joe reported a few moments later.

“And no footprints, either,” Frank added.

“Do you think there's anything to Katie's idea that Miyagi Motors is behind Stock's problems?” Joe asked. “Or behind what happened on the course this morning?”

“It's too early to say,” Frank replied. “But when we get home, we can look for prints on the note Katie received. And when we finish here, we should check out the Circuit Diner. In the meantime, there are garages all over Gasoline Alley. And there are a lot of trailer trucks parked around here. We should check those out, too.”

“You take the trucks, and I'll work the buildings,” Joe suggested.

Frank headed for the nearest truck, a black trailer bearing the crest of a famous Indy car racing team. The doors were locked, and there was no way of seeing inside. It would have been impossible to load the Saurion in the trailer without pushing the car across some grass, Frank figured, and there was no indication that anything or anyone had been on the unmowed grass. Frank thought the grass looked bedraggled compared with the lawn at the Hardys' home.

He studied the grass more closely and noticed a browned-out area between buildings B and C. When he walked around B to Building A, he saw another brown patch in the space between those two buildings. The burned-out strip was about eight feet wide.

“Why would the grass on the sides of the buildings
be green,” Frank muttered, “and the strips in the middle nearly dead?” He knelt down and felt the soil. It was dry. “And why is the edge along the brown area so straight?” he added to himself.

Meanwhile, Joe was looking around Building C. When Stock and Katie arrived from Stock's office, Joe lent them a hand moving one of the partially built Saurion's from its place in line.

“This silver one is closest to being fully assembled,” Stock said.

“Don't worry, Felix,” Katie said firmly. “One car or the other, I'll win that race.”

Joe thought Felix Stock's smile was forced, but the hug the engineer gave his driver was sincere enough.

“I hate to interrupt,” Joe said, clearing his throat, “but what's in Building B? The door was closed when we passed it.”

“That's our parts department,” Stock told him. “It's a warehouse, really. I can't imagine there would be any place to hide the prototype there, but you're welcome to look.” He handed Joe the keys.

Joe unlocked a side entrance to Building B, then flipped the light switch inside the door. The only sound in the room came from the door clicking shut behind him. Building B contained row after row of wooden and metal shelving. Joe stared at the mass of fenders, frames, alternators, frame sections, and cardboard boxes of all sizes that filled the shelves.

Although he doubted he would find the car, Joe
began a systematic search. Slowly he walked around the interior of the huge building. Finding nothing, he began to walk down the aisles between the shelves.

Suddenly Joe stopped. In the vast stillness of the warehouse, he heard something. Slowly he turned toward the sound, but detected nothing.

“Must have been a mouse,” he said to himself as he continued down the aisle.

Crack!

It wasn't very loud, but it was the sound of a piece of glass or ceramic being crushed. Joe froze in place, and as he did, the lights went out. Joe was enveloped in blackness.

He reached silently for his penlight. As he did, from across the room came the sound of straining metal, then a resounding crash. He knew one of the long shelves weighed down by parts had been knocked against its neighbor across the aisle.

A second loud crash followed. A sickening fear came over Joe as he realized that the shelves, like a row of dominoes, were falling onto each other.

Joe turned and ran back toward the other end of the aisle he had been searching. Pointing the slim flashlight, he frantically searched for the light switch. He found it and flicked it on.

The beam of light gave Joe a quick glimpse of the metal shelving as it leaned into the aisle next to him. He looked up and saw a car battery falling off the shelf just over his head. He threw his arms up to
protect himself and turned to run away, but it was too late. Bins of bolts and nuts, engine parts, and suspension arms showered down on him, and he crumpled to the floor under the heavy pile.

• • •

Frank was about to enter a small storage shed attached to the back of Building B when he heard a series of crashing noises coming from the huge warehouse. He hurried over to the building, wondering fearfully if Joe was inside.

“Joe!” he called, glancing hurriedly around the area. “Where are you?”

Frank didn't see his brother or hear an answer. He rushed up to the overhead door and found that it was securely locked. Darting around to the side door, he saw that it, too, was locked.

“I think Joe's inside!” Frank cried as Felix Stock and Katie Bratton came running up to him.

“We heard the crashes,” Stock said.

“Use my key,” Katie offered, rummaging in the pocket of her suit.

Frank quickly unlocked the door, then pushed it open. The interior of the building was pitch black.

“Joe!” Frank called out. “Are you in here?”

The three waited for an answer, but there was only silence. Felix Stock flipped the light switch. Katie Bratton gasped.

As the fluorescent tubes blinked on, Frank looked out on a sea of disaster. An entire row of shelves, from one side of the warehouse to the other, lay on
the floor. The metal was buckled and bent, and heavy auto parts and countless smaller parts were spilled all over the floor.

Frank stopped and signaled the others to be quiet. Listening closely, he heard a moan coming from somewhere in the middle of the pile of debris.

“He's buried under those shelves,” Frank said as he scrambled over the twisted metal and boxes. “Joe, where are you?”

“Over here,” came Joe's muffled reply.

Frank followed the sound of Joe's voice. When he reached the area, he began moving auto parts and shelving aside carefully. He didn't want to start another avalanche of falling equipment.

Finally he saw his brother's face looking up at him.

“Whew!” Joe said. “That was a close one.”

“If it hadn't been for this grille wedged under the shelf,” Frank said, “the full weight of it would have fallen on top of you. Are you okay?”

“Just get me out of here,” Joe said, rubbing a painful lump on the side of his head.

Stock and Katie kept the shelf from falling while Frank pulled Joe out.

“This was no accident,” Joe said once he was back on his feet. “The lights went out, and the next thing I knew, the shelves were caving in.”

“I was right outside when I heard the crashes,” Frank said. “If someone had come out, I would have seen him.”

“I was outside facing the side door,” Katie said. “I didn't see anyone, either.”

“Is there any other way out of here?” Frank asked, looking around the wrecked warehouse.

“Not that I know of,” Stock said. “There's just the overhead and the side door.”

“Then he's still got to be here,” Joe said in a low voice. “But where?”

“Let's split up and search,” Frank whispered. “We'll meet back at the side door.”

Five minutes later the four of them gathered by the door.

“Nobody else is in here,” Katie said.

“I can't believe this,” Stock said. “If someone pushed over the shelves, where is he?”

“I don't know, but someone is definitely responsible,” Joe insisted. “Before the lights went out, I heard a crack, as if someone had stepped on a piece of glass.”

Frank scanned the warehouse again. He looked up and saw two grimy skylights set into the ceiling. “Someone could have shinnied up those standpipes against the wall and gotten out through the roof.”

Frank led the group out the door and around Building B's outer walls, looking for a way to get up on the roof.

Joe glanced up at the sound of a whining electric motor. It was Chet in the golf cart.

“Nobody knows what it is,” Chet announced, holding up the small plastic part. “I even showed it
to Curt Kiser and Jason Dain. I thought Kiser recognized it because he kept staring at it, but finally he said that it had nothing to do with the speedway.”

“Thanks,” Frank told Chet, taking the small piece of plastic from his friend. “Did you by any chance see a ladder anywhere?”

“We want to get up on that roof,” Joe explained. He told his friend what had happened in the warehouse.

“I've got a ladder over in the shop,” Stock said. He turned to Chet. “Would you give me a hand with it? It's kind of heavy.”