The Number File (12 page)

Frank saw a couple of federal officers handcuffing the man with the umbrella. They were in a hallway. Kruger wouldn't have gone in their direction, Frank thought, turning toward the main exit.

Then he caught sight of Kruger. "Hold it!" His loud voice rose above the din of the crowded terminal. "The police have the exits covered."

Kruger peered over his shoulder at his pursuer. He knew he couldn't outrun the young detective, so he looked for the area with the most people. He turned right, away from the main exit, and darted down a corridor marked Taxis & Buses. Once again he disappeared into the crowd.

Frank ran as fast as he could without knocking anyone over. But there was no sign of the master criminal. Just when he thought he had lost Kruger for good, the counterfeiter came rushing out of the crowd—heading straight for him!

Frank was startled. He stood his ground, planting his feet firmly, wondering what the slick German was up to.

Then he saw it. Right behind Kruger was Fenton Hardy, running faster than Frank had ever seen him go. His father had a gun, and it seemed Kruger would rather face a youthful, unarmed athlete than a gun-toting private eye.

"I've got him, Dad!" Frank shouted, positioning himself in the middle of the corridor.

"Get out of the way, everyone!" Fenton ordered as he continued his pursuit.

The crowd thinned out, with people pinning themselves against the wall to avoid getting involved. Kruger knew he couldn't get past Frank, so he tried the next best thing — he ran smack into him!

Kruger was a heavy man, and he was in motion. There was no way Frank could brace himself. The impact knocked him off his feet. Kruger was down on one knee, but like a football player who doesn't believe the ball is dead, he scrambled up and continued his escape down the corridor.

Then he stopped short. Joe Hardy stood at the end of the corridor, blocking Kruger's avenue of escape, and he was braced and ready.

Kruger couldn't try the same trick again. But there was the crowd behind Joe. Fenton Hardy couldn't fire a gun where a bullet might hit an innocent passerby.

Kruger kept coming, passing a couple who had been on the boat and were now huddling against the wall. Sticking out of one of the bags they clutched were two bottles of duty-free rum. Kruger grabbed one of the bottles, smashing its bottom against the wall. He moved up the corridor toward Joe more slowly now, holding the broken bottle firmly by its neck. Then he whipped around as Frank came up behind him. The jagged edges of his bottle gleaming, Kruger pointed them at his challenger.

Frank backpedaled, whipping off the light windbreaker he had been wearing and wrapping it around his left arm. He was about four feet from Kruger now. The two began to circle around in the middle of the passageway, like two wrestlers preparing to get into a clinch.

"Give it up," Frank said, staring his opponent squarely in the eye.

"Never!" Kruger replied. "I have nothing to lose now—and you're responsible for everything I've lost already. You should be dead, and before they grab me, you will be."

Frank faked a charge to force Kruger into action. Kruger stepped back and to the side, then lunged at Frank with the broken bottle.

The sharp-edged glass ripped into Frank's jacket.

Kruger thrust again. This time Frank moved his arm quickly upward, and the bottle gouged out a piece of Frank's sleeve, coming close to his chest. Having drawn his opponent in toward him, Frank turned his left hand and grabbed Kruger's wrist. He pushed down on the man's hand, shoving the bottle away. Then, with his right hand, Frank delivered a mighty blow to Kruger's jaw, stunning him.

The bottle fell from Kruger's hand, crashing to the floor. Frank let go of his assailant's arm, wound up, and sent a smashing left hook into the side of Kruger's face, bringing the criminal to his knees. With both hands, Frank lifted him off the ground by his lapels. Kruger was beaten.

Frank was unhurt but winded. Joe and his father reached the fight from different directions at the same time, and Joe stepped in to put an armlock on Kruger while Frank unwound his windbreaker from his arm.

"Got you at last." Joe stopped as he saw Alicia and Montague running down the corridor, with two FBI men not far behind. He grinned when he saw Alicia's smile.

The Port Authority police and FBI took charge of the defeated criminal. They escorted him away in silence, leaving Fenton Hardy in charge of the rest of the group.

Frank and Joe turned to their dad. "Good to see you," they said.

"And you." The senior Hardy smiled. "So—how was Bermuda?"

Frank and Joe both laughed. "Well, hello, Fenton." Montague beamed. And after a hearty handshake, he added, "This is Alicia."

"I've heard a lot about you," the elder Hardy said. Then he noticed the twinkle in Joe's eye as his young son gazed at this attractive girl. "And I guess I'll be hearing a lot more." Joe turned slightly red, and everyone laughed.

"I have a message for you from your pals," Frank told his sons. "Chet, Tony, and Biff are waiting at the pizza parlor. I think they ordered a pie with 'Welcome Home' written on it in anchovies."

"Sounds good to me," Frank said.

"Yeah. What do you say we get moving," Joe added.

"Wait a minute," Montague said. "There's the problem of Alicia."

"Alicia?"

"At first, immigration wouldn't let me off the ship," Alicia explained, "because I didn't bring a passport. In fact, I don't even have any identification — Kruger's men took everything I had. They let me through because of your father's reputation with the FBI. But we have to go back to immigration now in order for a U.S. citizen to take responsibility for me."

"Can you be put in my custody?" Joe asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Never mind them," Fenton Hardy said through a smile. "I'll take care of everything."

"Oh, and there's one more thing," Montague interrupted with a more serious look on his face. "The FBI told me that Kruger and the New York head man are under indictment in the U.S. and will be arraigned here. But Croaker will have to be extradited back to Bermuda to stand trial along with Mickey, Gus, and Del."

"I hate to tell you this," Montague continued, trying to suppress a growing smile, "but it looks as if Joe and Frank are going to have to return to Bermuda in a few weeks to testify."

Frank gave a very loud—and phony—sigh.

Alicia broke into a big grin—and Joe blushed again.

"Well," Joe said as he took Alicia's arm, "these are the sacrifices a crack detective has to make."

The End.