The Demolition Mission (10 page)

“That's terrible,” Felix said. “I can't believe it. If you need a car, you can use this.” Stock pointed toward the Saurion.

“Wow!” Chet gasped.

“You sure you don't mind?” Frank asked, his face lighting up.

“Go ahead and drive it,” Stock insisted with a smile. “It's the least I can do after you recovered the prototype. Which, I am pleased to say, is nearly ready for the race. I'll be here all night working,” Stock said. “If you can decide who gets to ride in the Saurion, the other two can use my sedan.” Felix Stock called Katie Bratton on his walkie-talkie and asked her to bring his sedan over to the main entrance.

While they waited, Frank filled Felix in on the latest details of the case and told him of their plans to investigate the offices in the morning.

“Since I drove the prototype yesterday,” Joe told Frank when the sedan arrived, “you and Callie go on ahead and drive this Saurion home.”

Callie smiled. “I don't see any point in arguing with Joe,” she said to Frank. “Do you?”

“We're on our way,” Frank said excitedly. Frank got in and started the powerful V-8 engine, and its growl vibrated smoothly throughout the car. Callie sat in the passenger side.

“The sun is setting, so use your remote to lock the PEST system for night driving,” Felix Stock told Frank.

Frank flicked on the locking switch. Then, shifting into first gear, he eased out the clutch.

“This car is incredible,” Callie said in an awed tone as the Saurion shot forward through the speedway gate.

“When Joe drove the prototype yesterday,” Frank said as they cruised down the road, “he said it was almost impossible to drive it slowly,”

“He was on a racetrack,” Callie reminded Frank. “But we're on Shore Road.”

“This thing is great!” Frank exclaimed. “Here, let me pull over, and you can drive it on into town.”

“If you insist,” Callie said with an eager grin.

Knowing the handling was responsive to the touch, Frank turned the wheel a notch. He wanted to stop and watch the sunset from high above Barmet Bay, to their left.

Suddenly Callie gasped. “Everything's getting black!”

Frank saw that Callie was right. Only a moment before, he'd had a clear view of the pull-off. But the
windshield was darkening rapidly. He could make out the faint light of a buoy far out in the bay, but that was all.

“Brace yourself!” Frank told Callie as he slammed on the brakes.

The driver's side front wheel hit one of the stout wooden posts supporting the low guardrail along the rim of the cliff. Frank twisted the wheel back toward the road. He couldn't see the guardrail through the darkened windshield, but he could feel the front of the Saurion rise up along the rail.

Callie screamed when she heard metal rip into the underside of the car.

Frank knew by the feel of the steering that the front end was off the ground. He continued to try steering the car, but he couldn't see a thing out the blackened windshield. He felt as if he were driving with his eyes closed.

“Frank!” Callie yelled. “Stop us before we go over the cliff!”

Frank acted quickly. Grasping the emergency brake, he wrenched it up sharply. He and Callie were thrown violently forward against their seat belts, but the emergency brake held. Frank felt the engine stall, and the Saurion stopped.

“You okay?” Frank asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Just scared.”

Frank tried unsuccessfully to open the driver's side door. Through the narrow crack he could see Barmet Bay a hundred feet straight down. “We've got to crawl out your side,” Frank told Callie. “My door's right up against the guardrail.”

As Frank followed Callie out of the car, he glanced at Shore Road and saw a white panel truck
pass slowly by. When the driver saw Frank looking at him, he sped on past.

“We were being followed,” Frank said. “It looked like the truck that attacked Chet's jeep. And the driver was wearing a racing helmet that hid his face.”

Chet and Joe pulled up in Stock's sedan. “What happened this time?” Chet called from the sedan. He peered out at the Saurion.

Frank explained about the PEST system malfunctioning and then asked, “Did you see a white panel truck in front of you?”

“No, it must have been too far ahead,” Joe said.

“It wouldn't surprise me if Tarpley was driving,” Frank said. “I noticed that when we asked Dain if we could use one of the speedway's trucks, he mentioned a white panel truck.”

Chet spoke up. “That means Dain's definitely mixed up in this.”

“But what would he have to gain from sabotaging the Saurion?” Joe asked.

“Someone definitely sabotaged it,” Callie pointed out, “or else Stock's high-tech window system is a joke.”

“We'll look into it tomorrow,” Frank said.

“What about the Saurion?” Callie asked. “We can't just leave it parked out here.”

“We'd better push it away from the cliff,” Joe said.

When the car was a safe distance away from the cliff, Frank reached across the passenger seat and found the remote on the floor under the brake pedal. He pressed the Start button, and the engine roared to life.

“Sounds good,” Joe said. “But you can't drive it with the windows blacked out.”

Switching the PEST lock to the On mode, Frank operated the adjustment button. “It's working now,” he said as the glass areas lighted up.

“How could the system just fix itself like that?” Chet asked, puzzled.

“Good question,” Frank said thoughtfully. “But there are a lot of questions that need answering before I'll believe this was a technical glitch.”

He and Callie got back into the Saurion. Callie drove to her house. After saying good night, Frank and Joe took the Saurion, and Chet went home in the sedan.

• • •

The next morning Frank and Joe got up before Aunt Gertrude, grabbed some juice and toast, and headed out of the house.

After looking over the gray Saurion in the early morning light, Joe decided that aside from several scrapes, the car had been only moderately damaged in the near disaster at the cliffs. He took the wheel and backed the car out of the garage.

“People will start arriving at the speedway
around eight,” Frank said as they roared off. “That gives us an hour and a half to turn up something.”

Ten minutes later Joe pulled in to the main parking lot outside the speedway fence. He parked the Saurion behind a group of dumpsters in the corner of the lot. Then Frank led them along the twelve-foot-high chain-link fence until they reached a fairly secluded area hidden by trees and bushes. Frank gave Joe a boost in scaling the fence, then followed him over the top.

“The offices look empty,” Frank said as they approached the concrete building. Except for a gold car, the small parking lot was vacant, and he could see no lights in the office windows.

Joe used an old parking garage key card to trip the latch on the speedway office. “You take Dain's office, I'll check Kiser's.”

When Frank reached Dain's office, he found it was unlocked. Dain's desktop was bare, and hurriedly Frank went through the drawers. In the bottom drawer, under some quarterly reports, he found a remote-control device. Next to it was a box used to ship an automobile radar detector. Except for a circuit board, the box was empty. Frank studied the items and put them back.

Looking toward the far wall, Frank saw a bookcase. Most of the books were about accounting and auto racing, but two books, however, caught his eye. One was a book on electronic miniaturization. The
other, called
Applications of Industrial Demolition,
was about explosives.

“Look at this!” Joe exclaimed as he entered Dain's office. He handed Frank a power card. Frank saw that it was smaller than the model he had found in Building C, but otherwise it looked the same.

“Kiser's got a closet full of remote-control stuff,” Joe added.

Then Frank showed Joe the remote-control device and the book on explosives.

“What do you make of it?” Joe asked.

“I'm not sure yet,” Frank admitted. “Let's take a look in Dain's closet,” Frank suggested, walking over to the closet door. When he found it was locked, he used Joe's key card to open it. Looking into the closet, he found jackets and racing suits hanging on the coatrack.

“From what you said about Kiser's office, he's the one with the remote-control car hobby,” Frank said, “but we're finding evidence in here linking Dain as well.”

“Shh,” Joe said suddenly. He heard the front door open, then close again. Somebody had just entered the lobby.

Frank slipped noiselessly behind a four-drawer file on the other side of the closet, and Joe hurried into the closet, switching off the light and easing the door closed.

Rubber-soled shoes, Frank thought when he was unable to hear footsteps. Then he heard the door of
Dain's office open. Someone pulled out one of the desk drawers and rummaged around.

Joe desperately wanted to get a look at the person. He reached out to open the door a crack. At that moment the closet door swung open.

Joe flattened himself against the back of the closet behind the racing suits. He was afraid that his rapidly pounding heart would give him away. He heard the sound of wire hangers on the rod.

Cautiously Joe peeked through the suits. The person suddenly stepped away and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Joe bent over, picked up a piece of material that had fallen on the closet floor, and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he stayed frozen in place for a moment. “Let's wait a minute to be sure,” Joe called softly, stepping out of the closet.

“That was close,” Frank whispered as he slipped out from behind the file cabinets.

“But worth it, I think,” Joe said excitedly. “I saw—”

“What did you see?” came a new voice from a dark corner of the room.

Frank stiffened as the fluorescent lights came on. Too late, he realized that
two
people had entered the speedway office, and only one had left.

Now the Hardys found themselves face to face with Marvin Tarpley.

“What are you doing here?” Tarpley demanded.

“What are
we
doing here?” Frank echoed. “We
can ask you the same thing.” Frank saw that Tarpley was holding a tire iron.

“All I've got to do is pick up the phone, and you clowns will be arrested for breaking and entering,” Tarpley said, tapping the tire iron against the palm of his hand.

“And you think the police will give you a medal?” Joe said. “Don't you think they might wonder what you were doing, going through closets and desks?”

Frank moved a step to one side.

“No, you don't!” Tarpley snapped at him. Nobody's going anywhere.”

Joe braced himself for action as Tarpley charged at Frank. Caught between the file cabinet and Tarpley, Frank was trapped. Joe looked on in horror as Tarpley raised the tire iron high over his shoulder, then started to swing.

Frank bobbed, but the tire iron hit him on the shoulder. Frank gasped in pain, staggered, then started to slump to the floor.

As Tarpley raised the tire iron over his shoulder again, Joe lunged across the room in a flying tackle. He hit Tarpley in the legs, and they both crashed to the floor. But before he did, Tarpley threw the tire iron directly at Frank's head.

Tarpley was quick, but Joe knew that his brother was quicker and would be able to judge Tarpley's throw to a fraction of an inch.

Frank sprang backward, neatly sidestepping the
attack. The lethal tire iron missed him by at least a foot.

Tarpley struggled to free himself from Joe's grasp, but the younger Hardy now had the man pinned in a full nelson hold.

“Good work,” Frank said, grinning at his brother. He looked down at Tarpley. “The police will want to question you about the kidnapping and assault of Callie Shaw.”

“Yeah, right,” Tarpley said with a scowl. “You can't prove anything.”

“Get up,” Joe said, releasing the mechanic, who got to his feet.

“I'm outta here,” Tarpley said, starting for the door.

Frank blocked the office door. “The only place you're going is prison,” he said in a determined tone.

Tarpley sneered. “What is this? A citizen's arrest?”

“Joe,” Frank said, “call Detective Riley.”

“Don't be hasty now,” Tarpley said, reaching for the phone. “I just don't like people messing in my business.”

“It's our business when you kidnap my girlfriend and endanger her life, or when someone runs us off the road,” Frank said, hoping Tarpley would confess that he was responsible for the incidents. “And Joe could have been killed in that warehouse when the shelves were pushed onto him.”

“I did that stuff just to scare you off,” Tarpley insisted. “Nobody got hurt. And I was just told to send a few warnings, that's all.”

“Who are you working with?” Joe asked. “Curt Kiser or Jason Dain—or someone else?”

Tarpley stared sullenly at the floor.

“What were you doing at Miyagi Motors yesterday?” Frank demanded. “Were you offering to sell them the stolen circuitry diagrams to the PEST system?”

Frank watched Tarpley closely. The man's eyes widened in alarm. “I'm not talking,” Tarpley growled.

“You want to go to prison for the entire scheme?” Frank asked.

“Why did you steal the Saurion?” Joe asked.

“You'll find out,” Tarpley snapped. “But you aren't sending me to any prison.” With a suddenness that caught Frank and Joe off-guard, Tarpley grabbed a swivel chair and threw it into Frank's legs. Frank fell forward onto the chair, and Tarpley then shoved the chair and Frank away. Seeing that the path to the door was free, Tarpley bolted out of the office and down the hallway.