The Pentagon Spy (16 page)

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Korbo recovered his wits. “We have Frank and Joe Hardy in here, and we'll blow their heads off unless you let us go to our truck and get out of here!”

“You want a murder rap against you in addition to all the other charges?” Mr. Hardy demanded.

“I want to get out of here and I have enough bullets for all of you!” Korbo screamed in rage.

“What if your bluff doesn't work?” Morven hissed. “Maybe we should try to escape through the east wing!”

“Shut up!” Korbo grated. “Don't you realize they've surrounded the whole place?”

Frank tugged on his bonds in frustration. If only he could tell his father that the gang was unarmed! As he moved, he felt something scraping his back. “Feels like a light switch,” he thought. He remembered a signal he had once worked out with his father when they were staking out a hut in the woods. “The coast is clear” was transmitted by turning his flashlight on, off, and on again in equal intervals. His heart pounded as he manipulated the switch behind him. Would it work?

Suddenly the room was bathed in light. Before the gang could figure out what had happened, Frank turned the light off, then on again. Mr. Hardy instantly recognized the message, and moments later the police broke through the door. “Hands over your heads!” they commanded. Stunned and dazed, the criminals obeyed.

Mr. Hardy and John Hammerley had followed the officers, and the Bayport sleuth untied his sons.

“After dropping Clifford Hunter off in Washington, I flew out to Lancaster and called Mr. Hammerley,” their father explained while he took off their gags. “He told me you had ridden into town and he asked me to meet him at police headquarters. Then we decided to check on the museum.”

“Good thing you did,” Frank said with a sigh of relief. “We were to be dropped into the bay after the crooks got away.”

The police chief was amazed when he recognized the members of the gang. “Joshua Korbo and Gaspard Clay were two of the most respected men in the county!” he exclaimed.

“That's how they got away with it,” Joe pointed out. “Nobody suspected them, including us.”

An idea struck Frank. “Clay,” he addressed the curator, “I bet you followed us that day we found you crabbing.”

Clay looked sullen. “Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because if you cooperate, things will go easier for you,” Mr. Hardy said. “However, I want you to understand that you don't have to answer without consulting with your attorney first.”

Clay realized he was defeated. With a helpless shrug, he looked at Frank. “Yes, I followed you. I saw your powerboat explode and realized you swam ashore. So I stopped to crab, ahem, where I thought you'd hear me and come down for a look. If you had ridden back with me to the marina, I might have disposed of you on the way. Unfortunately, you refused.”

“Not so unfortunate for Clifford Hunter,” Frank said pointedly.

Clay glared at the boys. “You knew about Chesapeake Crossing from the paper Bryle dropped in the helicopter. But how did you know enough to come to the museum tonight?”

“Easy,” Joe replied. “You told us.”

“What do you mean?”

Joe described how Frank had discovered that the squeaky voice on the cassette was Clay's. “So,” he added, “we thought something must be up at the museum.”

Korbo seethed. “You guys know everything, don't you!”

“We know that you had a perfect cover,” Frank replied. “As an auctioneer, you could travel around the county and list the weather vanes. Then you sent your hoods to steal the best ones.”

“Also,” Joe added, “your auction gave you a good place to hide the antiques. They looked like items you intended to sell. By the way, how did you get involved with Bucky?”

“We were in the rackets together,” Korbo admitted. “Then he set up a fence in Chesapeake Crossing. One day he told me he could handle the coming thing in stolen goods—valuable weather vanes. So I went into heisting weather vanes for him.”

“And since Clay was a member of your gang,” Joe spoke up, “you could use the museum as a warehouse.”

“Right. And everything was terrific,” Korbo snarled, “until you came snooping around. I had to switch to the helicopter because you were in the barn loft and Morven couldn't get at the
Flashing Arrow
that night. I piloted the chopper and Bryle snatched the weather vane with his grappling hook right from under your noses!”

Bryle guffawed. “I can still see you two climbing over the roof. But we got there first. We didn't even need Crow's signal.”

The light dawned on Frank. “So that's what you were doing,” he accused Morven, “when we jumped you in the barn.”

Morven scowled. “I thought you would be asleep. I was supposed to give the exact location of the place with a flashlight. When you caught me, I told you I was looking for my jacket.”

“Anyhow, we got away with the
Flashing Arrow,”
Korbo continued, “and landed at Juniper Field. My plan was for Bryle to drive it to Chesapeake Crossing, but he couldn't find the paper with the hex sign. I realized he must have lost it in the chopper while operating the winch. So I told him to take the weather vane to the museum instead.”

“Then you went back to the auction where we saw you the next day, packing up,” Joe continued.

Korbo nodded. “I put on my disguise when you left and drove to Chesapeake Crossing to confer with Bucky.”

“We know,” Frank said. “We saw you in that big black car and chased you.”

Joe changed the subject. “Why did Wickerson get into the spy business?”

“He needed money,” Korbo replied. “He lost a lot at the racetrack, so he sold his valuables. He had a good collection of antiques, and I auctioned them off for him. Eventually they were all gone, but he was still hard up.

“One day he told me he had access to classified Pentagon documents relating to navy research and asked me if I could sell them. Naturally I checked with Bucky. He has a lot of foreign contacts. Bucky said yes, and Wickerson forced Hunter into taking the MASUB plan from the Pentagon files.”

“Where is the document now?” Frank asked.

Bucky, who was frightened to the point of panic when Korbo revealed his past, pointed a finger at the auctioneer. “He has it!”

“Hand it over, Korbo!” Mr. Hardy ordered.

“I don't have it. You can search me if you like.”

The police went through his pockets, but they were empty, and a search of the other gang members failed to produce the Pentagon plan.

“Maybe he hid it somewhere in the museum,” Frank suggested.

The officers searched the building thoroughly without finding the blueprint, however, and further questioning of Korbo netted no answer. Suddenly Joe had an idea.

“Wait a minute!” He lifted the
Flashing Arrow
and placed it on the table. Then he unscrewed the arrowhead and pulled it off. He inserted his finger into the hollow tube and maneuvered it upward until the end of a paper began to show. Smiling, he withdrew it with his thumb and forefinger. He unrolled it and held it up. It was the MASUB blueprint!

“How did you know?” Frank asked his brother.

“I remember unscrewing the hollow arrowhead when we were on the barn roof, and it hit me that a document could be rolled up and hidden in there!”

“Excellent deduction!” Mr. Hardy praised his son. “You've done the U.S. Navy a great service!”

The police took the gang to headquarters, and Mr. Hardy and John Hammerley accompanied them. Frank and Joe, meanwhile, went back to their horses.

“Do you think we'll ever get another good case to work on?” Frank asked his brother on the way.

“I sure hope so!” Joe replied. “Life would be dull without mysteries.”

Frank nodded. He had no idea that soon they'd be called upon to solve The
Apenwn's Secret.

When they climbed onto their horses, Joe suddenly grinned. “One thing I could do without, though.”

“What's that?”

“The hex!”