The Vanishing Thieves (10 page)

Frank slowed the
Sea Scorpion,
reversed engines, and came to a stop within a few feet of his brother. Joe swam over and was pulled aboard by Chet and Vern.

“We thought you were a goner,” Chet said happily, pounding his friend on the back.

“I will be, if you keep that up,” an exhausted Joe told him, moving out of range.

“Too bad we scared off your friends,” Vern said. “It looked like you were all having a good time.”

“They saved my life by running off a shark,” Joe declared. “How'd you manage to turn the tables?”

“Brains, pure brains,” Chet said, tapping his forehead.

“Yeah, but not yours,” Vern said. “It was Frank's. He told Joe what had happened.

Frank headed the boat back to the spot where they had left their attackers, while Joe went below in search of dry clothing. He did not find any, but discovered a pair of sneakers that fit him. He would just have to put up with being wet until he got back to the hotel.

Soon the
Sea Scorpion
pulled up near the trio in the water.

“Like to come back aboard?” Chet invited.

“Please,” Red Sluice said in a frightened voice. “I can't swim.”

“Want us to throw you one of these anchors?” Chet asked.

“Cut the comedy, Chet,” Frank called over his shoulder. “Bring them aboard one at a time, and tie each one up before you pull out the next.”

“Roger,” Chet said. “Come on, Red.”

“But first bring out that knife you carry and hold it up,” Vern added.

Red let loose of the life ring with one hand to get his knife.

“Drop it,” Vern ordered.

Red released his grip and the knife sank into the water.

“You have any weapons, Maharaja?” Chet asked.

“No,” the little man said.

“How about you, Crafty?”

The tattooed man shook his head.

“We'll check both of you when you come aboard,” Chet warned. “If either of you have anything, we'll toss you back in the water.”

“We're not carrying anything,” Crafty insisted.

“Okay,” Chet called to Frank.

Frank maneuvered the boat right next to the trio. Chet leaned over to offer Red Sluice a hand. As he pulled him aboard, he twisted the man's right arm behind his back. Vern took hold of the left one and they forced Red face down. After binding his wrists with one of the pieces of rope that had been used on them, they searched his pockets but found no gun or other knives.

“You're next, Crafty,” Chet said, leaning over the rail to offer the tattooed man a helping hand.

When Crafty was aboard, they bound his hands and searched him in the same manner. He was carrying no weapons, either.

Finally, they pulled up Anton and gave him the same treatment. Then Chet reached down to retrieve the life preserver and dropped it on the deck.

After arranging the three with their backs to the rail, far enough apart so that they could not untie each other, Chet and Vern went forward to Big Harry, who was still unconscious. He began to wake up just as they finished binding his wrists behind him. Then Frank headed the boat in.

It was close to noon when he berthed the
Sea Scorpion.
After it was tied up, the boys walked a few yards along the dock beyond earshot of the four captives in order to discuss what to do with them. Chet was for turning them over to the authorities immediately.

“We decided not to call in the police until we knew who the big boss of the car theft ring is,” Joe reminded him.

“Chet and I did find out,” Frank said.

“You only saw him,” Joe insisted. “You don't know who he is.”

“I snapped his picture from inside that refrigerator carton. I had been looking for you when he drove up in a big car and went into the warehouse.”

“How do you know it was the big boss?” Vern asked.

“We sneaked into the warehouse and overheard him talking to Big Harry and Crafty Kraft. That's how we learned you guys were tied up in the machine shop.”

“But you don't know his name,” Joe said.

“That doesn't matter,” Frank told him. “When I get the film developed, I'll turn it over to the police. They should be able to find out who he is. In the meantime, we can't keep those four guys tied up, and we can't let them loose, either. Seems to me we have to turn them in.”

“I guess so,” Joe agreed. “Wonder if there's a phone around here.”

Vern pointed to a large building at the edge of the dock area, about fifty yards away. “Maybe there.”

“You guys go check,” Frank suggested. “I'll stand guard over our prisoners.”

Joe, Chet, and Vern headed for the large building. As they neared, they saw that it was a boat tackle shop. Chet stuck his head in the door and asked a clerk if he had a public phone.

“Out back,” the clerk told him.

The three went around the building and found a phone booth. Joe took a dime out of one of his wet pockets, dialed the operator, and asked for the police.

At the dock, Frank stood alongside the boat, occasionally glancing at the prisoners to make sure they were in the same positions. After a time, he decided to go back aboard.

As soon as he stepped on the deck, he realized they had not searched the prisoners as thoroughly as they should have. Crafty Kraft's right pant leg was pushed up above his knee to disclose a leather sheath strapped to his calf. The sheath was empty and he held an eight-inch hunting knife in his hand!

He had already cut the prisoners' bonds, and now all four jumped to their feet and rushed at Frank!

Big Harry and Red Sluice were in the lead. Frank ducked under a looping right thrown by Big Harry, grabbed the man's wrist, and flipped him over his shoulder onto the deck. Whirling to face Red, he fended a blow and shoved him into Crafty and Anton, who were right behind the redheaded man.

While the three were untangling themselves, Frank thought quickly. He knew there was no way he could win against these four opponents. Just as he saw Big Harry painfully climb to his feet, he took a running jump onto the dock and, picking himself up, raced away.

Big Harry chased after the boy, and the other three hoods followed in hot pursuit.

But Frank had a good lead. When he was halfway between the boat and the tackle shop, Joe, Chet, and Vern came around the corner. Immediately seeing Frank's predicament, they ran up as fast as they could.

The hoods were too tired to stomach another fight, though, and turning, they rushed back toward the boat.

By the time Chet, Vern, and Joe reached Frank, Big Harry was jumping aboard. Seconds later, he started the engine, while his partners were hastily casting off lines.

“Come on!” Frank shouted. “Don't let them get away!”

The four boys raced for the boat. But Red, Anton, and Crafty hopped aboard just before the boys got there, and the
Sea Scorpion
backed from the slip.

The foursome halted at the edge of the dock and watched in frustration as Big Harry swung the boat around and opened the throttle wide!

As the boat disappeared from sight, Joe asked, “How'd they get loose?”

“We didn't search them well enough,” Frank said. “Crafty had a knife strapped to his leg.”

“Well, at least that settles the argument about whether or not to turn them over to the police,” Chet said philosophically.

“Did you call them?” Frank asked Joe.

His younger brother nodded. “They said they'd be right over.”

The boys walked back to the boat tackle shop to await the arrival of the police. A paddy wagon and a squad car showed up a few minutes later. Two uniformed officers got out of the car, one middle-aged and wearing sergeant's stripes, the other a young rookie.

“Which one of you phoned in?” the sergeant asked.

“I did,” Joe said.

“Your name's Joe Hardy?”

“Yes, sir,” Joe said and introduced the other boys.

“I'm Sergeant Kelly and my partner's Jim Olsen.” The officer looked from Joe to Frank. “Are you the famous detectives?” he asked.

“Our father's Fenton Hardy,” Frank admitted.

“I've heard a lot about him, and you two also. Where are these kidnappers?”

“They got away,” Frank confessed. “It was my fault because I was guarding them. One of them had a knife strapped to his leg that we didn't find when we searched him. He cut himself and the others loose and they sailed off in the boat.”

“Maybe you'd better tell us the whole story,” Sergeant Kelly suggested. He turned to his companion. “Looks like we won't need the paddy wagon, Olsen. Tell Ralph he can take off.”

“Sure, Sarge.” The young policeman went over to deliver the message to the driver, who left immediately. Running back to the group, he listened to their story.

The boys told everything that had happened, going back to the theft of Vern's car in Bayport.

When they finished, Sergeant Kelly said, “This is a matter for the auto-theft division. But first, I want you to describe the kidnappers and their boat so the Coast Guard can begin a search.”

The boys related every detail they could remember, and the sergeant radioed their report to headquarters.

When he hung up the radio mike, he said, “Now we'll take you to Parker Center to talk to someone in the auto-theft division. Okay?”

“Can we stop at our hotel on the way?” Joe asked. “I'm soaking wet.”

The sergeant grinned. “You do look like a drowned rat. Sure, we'll give you time to clean up.”

The young detectives crowded into the back seat of the squad car and were driven to their hotel. Since they had slept in their clothes, they all decided to change. Sergeant Kelly told them to take their time.

“There's no rush,” he said. “The whole police force plus the Coast Guard are looking for the kidnappers, and that warehouse you told us about won't go away. ”

“Then we have time for lunch,” Chet said, his eyes lighting up. “It's almost two P.M.”

“Good idea,” Jim Olsen said. “We haven't eaten either. ”

Chet gave him a delighted look, and Vern laughed. “You just made a lifelong friend, Officer Olsen.”

To save time they ordered from room service. The boys had all finished cleaning up and dressing when the food arrived.

After lunch, they were driven to Parker Center, the police administration building. The officers took them to the auto-theft division squad room on the third floor and left them with a tall and somewhat stiff detective named Lieutenant Harold Frisby.

When they repeated their story, he asked them to describe the exact location of the warehouse. Then he picked up his desk phone and asked the switchboard operator to get him the district attorney.

“Hi, Jud,” he said into the phone. “I finally have a lead on that nationwide car-theft ring we've been after for so long. I need a search warrant.” He gave the address of the warehouse.

As soon as he hung up, he called the Metro division, asking for a squad of a dozen uniformed policemen to accompany him on a raid. “I won't need them for about an hour, because I'm waiting for the district attorney's office to send over a warrant,” he added.

When he hung up the second time, Frank asked, “Can we go on the raid?”

The detective shook his head. “No civilians allowed. There may be shooting. I'll have you dropped back at your hotel.”

“Our car's parked near the warehouse,” Frank said. “We'd rather be dropped there.”

“All right,” Lieutenant Frisby agreed.

“As long as we're right there, can we watch the raid from outside?”

The detective gave him an amused look. “You're determined to get in on it one way or another, I see. All right, you can watch from across the street. But you're not going to talk me into letting you participate in the raid,”

When the search warrant arrived, Lieutenant Frisby and the four boys took the elevator to the basement garage, where they found three carloads of uniformed policemen with riot guns. The boys got into a fourth car with Lieutenant Frisby, and he led the way to the warehouse at the edge of Old Chinatown.

When they reached the street fronting the warehouse, Frank pointed to the building and said, “That's it.” Then he indicated the gray sedan a block beyond the warehouse. “And that's our car.”

Lieutenant Frisby parked behind the sedan and the three squad cars pulled up next to him. Everyone got out, and the lieutenant addressed the uniformed sergeant in charge of the riot squad.

“Post five men in the back and five in front,” he ordered. “Then you and I'll go in.”

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said.

Picking five officers, he told them to walk around to the alley and cover the rear of the building. After another five were selected to cover the front, only one was left. The sergeant designated him to accompany him and the lieutenant inside.

Lieutenant Frisby gave the men time to get into position. While waiting, he told the boys to move in back of the parked police cars in case there was any shooting. The young detectives crouched behind the two nearest to the warehouse.

The lieutenant checked his watch. “Okay, let's go now,” he said to the two officers. Quickly, the lieutenant and his companions crossed the street.

He tried the front door and looked surprised when he found it unlocked. Opening it, he drew his gun and stepped inside. The two men followed.

Ten minutes passed with no sound from the warehouse. The boys heard one of the men ask uneasily, “Think we should bust in there?”