The Prime-Time Crime (3 page)

“Do you know when Clarence was last seen?” Joe asked.

“The receptionist at the front desk saw him arrive just before nine o'clock this morning, but nobody's seen him since,” Marcy said.

“Then he could still be in the building,” Frank said.

“That's possible,” Marcy said. “Believe me, I've got people looking for him. And I've arranged for guards to be placed at all of the doors twenty-four hours a day, in case he tries to leave.”

“Voluntarily or involuntarily,” Joe added.

“Right,” Marcy said. “I'm asking the two of you to help because I think this is a very serious situation. If Clarence has been kidnapped, he could be in a lot of danger.”

“Did I hear you say that Clarence has been kidnapped?” asked Steve Burke, who had just stepped into the studio. He stopped and looked at the Hardys and Marcy with interest.

“It's nothing, Steve,” Joe said casually. “I thought you were heading over to Mr. Pizza.”

“I'll be going over there in a few minutes,” Steve said. “Hey, what's that?” Steve looked at the paper in Joe's hand. “A ransom note?”

Before Joe could stop him, Steve grabbed the note out of his hand. “Hey! A note from Clarence,” Steve said. “And it's got the word
help
in big letters inside. It looks like our old buddy Clarence really has been kidnapped!”

“Give me that note, young man,” Marcy said, holding out her hand. Sheepishly, Steve handed the paper back to her. “This information is not to leave this building,” she warned. “Do you understand? Clarence Kellerman is apparently in a great deal of trouble, and it won't help him or the station to announce the fact all over Bayport.”

“Sorry,” Steve said. “But won't this be in the newspapers tomorrow?”

“Not if we can help it,” Marcy said. “With any luck, Clarence will be back safe and sound by tomorrow, perhaps with the help of your friends here.”

“These guys?” Steve said with a laugh. “Ha! They couldn't find a wrench at a plumber's convention. I bet I could find Clarence faster than they could.”

“What do you mean by—” Joe began.

Suddenly Debbie Hertzberg appeared from the hallway outside the studio. “Have you found Clarence
yet?” she asked Marcy. “I figured he just got held up on the way to the station.”

“Wrong,” Steve said. “He's been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?” Debbie said with a gasp. “That's incredible!”

“Look, do you think maybe we could keep this a secret?” Joe suggested. “Just between the five of us—and anyone else within hearing range?” he added sarcastically.

Marcy flashed the four teenagers an exasperated look. “I'll be down the hall in my office, talking to the police, if you need more details,” she told them. Clutching her clipboard tightly under her arm, she left the studio.

“Marcy doesn't look too happy,” Joe said. “She only asked us to take the case a few minutes ago. I hope she doesn't change her mind.”

“No loss,” Steve said with a shrug. “I can take on the case.”

“Oh yeah?” Joe said, raising his eyebrows. “I suppose you could do better?”

“Absolutely,” Steve said. “In fact, I bet I solve this Clarence Kellerman case before you guys do.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. What do you know about detective work?”

“I plan to be a scientist one day,” Steve said. “All scientists are detectives. We sift through clues to get answers. I'll find the identity of Clarence Keller-man's kidnapper just like Einstein found that energy equals matter times the speed of light squared.”

“That's
mass
times the speed of light squared,” Frank reminded him.

“Whatever,” Steve said. “This case sounds like it ought to be a piece of cake for me.”

“Okay, Einstein,” Joe said. “You're on. We'll see if you can solve this case faster than we can.”

“Well,” Frank said, “I suppose it couldn't hurt. And if it means Clarence is found even sooner, all the better.”

“What about me?” Debbie asked. “I've read hundreds of mystery novels. I think I know a thing or two about being a detective.”

“Hang it up, Debbie,” Steve said. “Leave the detective work to the real brains, like me.”

“You mean the pea brains like you, don't you?” Debbie replied hotly.

“Let's keep this civilized,” Frank said. “If you two want to prove that you're great detectives, that's okay, but you don't have to fight over it.”

“There's no need to fight,” Steve said. “I'll find Clarence first using sheer brainpower. In fact, he's practically as good as found.”

“If anyone finds Clarence first,” Debbie said, “it'll be me. I'll bet that there are clues to his disappearance all over this station. And with my refined powers of observation, I'll find them right away.”

“Great,” Frank said. “Now let's get started.”

“Right,” Steve said. “I want to get this investigation underway as soon as possible. Come on, Deb.
Let's show these two amateurs how real detectives solve a case.”

“Sorry, Steve,” Debbie said, sauntering toward the door of the studio. “I work alone. You're on your own.”

As soon as Steve and Debbie were gone, Joe turned and stared at his brother. “I think we've created a couple of monsters,” he said.

“Oh, I don't think they can hurt anything,” Frank replied, chuckling. “And, who knows, maybe they'll actually find Clarence.”

“It's more likely they'll get bored and quit after an hour or two,” Joe said. “It won't take long before they learn how tough detective work really is.”

“Speaking of detective work,” Frank said, “we'd better start doing some ourselves. Where do you want to start?”

“I think we should talk to Marcy Simons again,” Joe said. “We need to find out what's been going on around the station since the last time we were here.”

“Sounds good,” Frank said. “Let's go. I think I remember where her office is.”

Marcy Simons's small office was in the hallway not far from Studio A. Frank knocked on the door. The producer opened the door and nodded when she saw the Hardys.

“You just missed the police,” she said. “I told them what happened, and they said they'd keep an eye out for Clarence, but they weren't sure there was much they could do.”

“We were wondering how things have been around the station since we were here last,” Frank said. He and his brother took seats as Marcy settled down behind her desk. “Is Bill Amberson still the station manager?”

Marcy shook her head. “He decided to take an early retirement and move to Arizona. His family sold the station to the Mediagenic Corporation.”

“So who's the new station manager?” Joe asked.

“Ted Whalen,” Marcy replied. Frank noticed the slightly annoyed tone in her voice as she pronounced his name. “Fresh out of college and already a vice president at Mediagenic. Comes from a wealthy old New England family.”

“Sounds like you don't like him much,” Frank said.

Marcy smiled. “Did I say that? I guess I just miss Bill. Once in a while he could be a little grumpy, but he had a big heart. Ted Whalen's a little hard to warm up to.”

“Why don't you introduce us to him?” Joe asked. “Maybe he can give us some clue as to what happened to Clarence.”

“Sure,” Marcy said. “It couldn't hurt.”

As Marcy led the Hardys into the hallway, Frank heard loud voices coming from Studio A.

“I found a clue,” declared a female voice. “Hey, let go of that.”

“It's mine!” shouted a male voice. “I found it first.”

“What in the world is going on in there?” Marcy asked.

The Hardys looked at each other. “I think I've got a pretty good idea,” Frank said.

The brothers hurried over to the studio. As they entered the room, they saw Steve and Debbie fighting over a man's gray suit jacket. Steve had a grip on one sleeve, Debbie the other, and the fabric was on the verge of tearing down the middle.

“You're trying to take this away from me so I can't solve the case,” Debbie said.

“Oh yeah?” Steve shouted. “That's exactly what you're doing.”

Frank stepped over to them. “There's not going to be much evidence left if you two rip that jacket apart,” he said.

“I found this piece of evidence first,” Steve insisted.

“Listen, you two,” Frank began, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. Suddenly Frank heard a sound from above. Startled, he looked up. Near the studio ceiling, a huge television camera, at the end of the long boom that supported it, was swaying and starting to break loose from its moorings. As Frank watched, it snapped free.

The camera was about to fall right on top of Steve, Debbie, and Frank.

“Look out!” Frank yelled, grabbing Steve under his arms and yanking him out of the way of the falling camera.

“Hey!” Steve shouted as he let go of the jacket. He tried to struggle out of Frank's grip, but succeeded only in tumbling both of them to the floor.

“What?” Debbie said in astonishment as Joe shot forward, grabbed her squarely around the waist, and pushed her sideways into a painted wooden flat just as the camera crashed to the floor. The flat they collided with fell to the ground at almost the same instant, with Joe and Debbie on top of it.

“What are you doing?” Debbie shouted. “You let go of me. You won't get your hands on my evidence that easily.” She clutched the jacket tightly.

“I was trying to help you,” Joe muttered.

“Go easy on my brother,” Frank said, as he got to his feet. “He just saved your life.”

“What are you talking—” Debbie stopped in midsentence as she noticed the smashed remains of the camera lying on the floor. “Oh, no! Where did that come from?”

“From up there,” Frank said, pointing to the ceiling. “If Joe and I hadn't gotten you two out of the way in a hurry, you'd have the world's worst headaches right about now.”

Steve rose unsteadily to his feet. “You mean that thing almost fell on us?”

“That's about the size of it,” Joe said as he extracted himself and Debbie from the battered flat. “And I'm not convinced it was an accident.”

Debbie's eyes widened. “Are you saying that somebody tried to kill us?” she asked in disbelief.

“This must be a really valuable piece of evidence,” Steve said, grabbing the jacket from Debbie, who had relaxed her grip on it. “Somebody's willing to kill us for it. Boy, am I glad I found it.”

“Give that back to me,” Debbie demanded. “I found that piece of evidence.”

Frank grabbed the jacket away from Steve. “This case will get solved a lot faster if we share the evidence. For all we know, Clarence Kellerman's life may be at stake. It's irresponsible to risk his life just for the sake of proving which of us is the better detective.”

Steve looked sheepish. “You're right. I'm sorry.”

Debbie started to reply angrily, then thought better of it. “I guess that makes sense. Okay, we'll share the evidence.”

“Good,” Frank said. “Now what is this thing, anyway?”

“It's a man's jacket,” Steve said.

“I can see that,” Frank said. “But why is it evidence?”

“I found it next to the set of ‘The Four O'Clock Scholar,' ” Debbie said.

“I found it,” Steve interrupted.

“No squabbling, remember?” Frank said, holding up his hand in warning.

“We both found it,” Debbie said reluctantly. “And we think it must have been left here by Clarence Kellerman.”

“Why do you think that?” Joe asked.

“Because,” Steve said hesitantly, “it's a man's jacket and, well, Clarence is a man.”

“What a clever connection,” Joe said. “I never would have thought of it.”

Marcy rushed into the studio. “I heard a crash,” she said, then stopped when she saw the smashed camera. “What happened here?”

Frank explained, then asked the producer about the jacket.

“That jacket belongs to Matt Freeman,” Marcy told them. “He always keeps a spare in the studio in case something happens to the one he's wearing. He has a habit of spilling coffee on his jacket.”

Frank looked at the wrinkled, dust-stained jacket. “I'm afraid he'll have to get this one dry-cleaned. Actually, he's lucky he doesn't have to buy a new one,” he added with a glance at Steve and Debbie.

Marcy took the jacket from Frank. “I want to apologize for what happened with that camera,” she said. “I don't know what could have gone wrong. The camera crews are usually careful to make sure that everything is secure and in place.”

“Maybe Joe's right,” Frank said, looking at his brother. “Maybe it wasn't an accident.”

Debbie looked stunned. “That means somebody really might have been trying to kill us.”

“It's possible,” Frank said. “Whoever's responsible for Clarence's disappearance may be a desperate person. I hope this makes you think twice about playing detective.”

“Are you implying that I might give up?” Debbie asked.

“Look,” Joe said. “This isn't a detective novel. Things could get really dangerous from here on out. Kidnapping is serious business.”

“Well, I still plan to solve this case,” Debbie said firmly. “If Clarence Kellerman's life is in danger, then he needs my help more than ever.”

“Is that my jacket?” said a man's voice from the doorway. “It looks like somebody tried to iron it with their feet.”

The Hardys turned to see Matt Freeman step into the studio.

“Oh, hello, Matt,” Marcy said. “Sorry about the jacket. We had a little, ah, accident.”

“So I see,” Matt said, looking at the smashed pieces of the fallen camera as he took the jacket from Marcy. “What happened there? Looks pretty nasty. Was my jacket underneath that when it fell?”