teeth.
"Your mother, I'm pleased to say, is enjoying quite pleasant accommodations. And you do want to keep it that way, don't you?"
Hoping that Joe was recording the conversation, Frank said, "All right, let's cut the phony politeness. You'll be dead meat if my mom is hurt, buddy, so you might as well tell me what's going down right now."
"Dead meat," the voice repeated. "A colorful but rather repulsive image, don't you think? What's going down, my hotheaded young friend, is simply this: Fenton Hardy must be back at your house in twenty-four hours to answer a phone call. In person. Is that clear?"
Instinctively Frank looked at his watch, which read five-thirty. "And what if he's not?"
"Must you ask so many questions?" the voice answered. It chuckled malevolently, making a sound not unlike broken glass scratching a blackboard. "If he's not, your beloved mother will die."
Chapter 3
There was a hollow click at the other end of the phone. Frank stared at it unseeing for a few seconds before he hung up.
Joe appeared in the hallway outside the den. He looked over his shoulder to check on Gertrude, then walked toward Frank. "That slime-ball," he hissed. "If he laid a finger on Mom - "
"Did you get the voice on tape?" Frank interrupted, his face taut with concentration.
"Yeah, but a lot of good that's going to do us. The guy was using a scrambler, so we can't run a voice-pattern test. There's no way we can involve the police after what he said."
"We're just going to have to find Dad. Obviously this guy doesn't want to talk to us."
"Great," Joe retorted. "Only Mom knows where he is. What do we do, call information for the state of Massachusetts and say, 'Fenton Hardy, please. He's on a secret intelligence trip somewhere in the southwestern part of your state. Can you locate him?' Frank, this guy's got us over a barrel."
"I'm not so sure," Frank said. He cast a concerned glance toward the den. "Let's get Aunt Gertrude upstairs. Then I want to hear that tape again."
They went into the den to find Aunt Gertrude still sitting on the couch, her head back, her eyes shut. "No ... no," she mumbled. "Leave my sister-in-law alone. She has two youngsters. If you must take someone, take me!"
Joe raised an eyebrow. "Youngsters?" he repeated under his breath.
Frank reached out and gently folded his hand over his aunt's. "Come on. I think you need a rest, Aunt Gertrude."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Frank! My goodness, did I fall asleep?"
Frank nodded.
"Who was on the phone?" she asked with sudden hope. "Was it Fenton?"
"No," Joe replied, thinking fast. "It was - uh - an electronic voice. You know, one of those tape recordings that tries to sell you things."
Aunt Gertrude nodded absently. "And for that the two of you had to rush off, leaving me all alone?" Joe opened his mouth to answer, but she waved him off. "Never mind. I suppose I can't expect you to act normally when your dear mother has been - " Her voice choked in the middle of the sentence.
"Please, Aunt Gertrude," Frank said, urging her toward the stairs. "We'll get in touch with Dad. Why don't you have a little nap? I'm sure you'll feel better."
Protesting feebly, she allowed her nephews to take her up to her room. They sat her down on her bed, and before they were out of the room she had curled up and fallen asleep.
They quietly skittered down the stairs, walked into their father's office, and sat down.
"Now we know for sure we didn't run over that soda bottle in the parking lot. The kidnappers punctured the tire to keep us occupied while they took Mom," Joe said.
"You're right," Frank agreed. "I think we should study the tape, listen to this guy's accent, listen for background noise. Did you set the ticker when you turned it on?"
"What do you think I am, an amateur?" Joe rewound to 000 and played the tape back: "Your mother, I'm pleased to say, is enjoying quite pleasant accommodations. . . ."
It was impossible to detect an accent, Frank thought. The voice was so
"Your mother, I'm pleased to say, is enjoying quite pleasant accommodations. And you do want to keep it that way, don't you?"
Hoping that Joe was recording the conversation, Frank said, "All right, let's cut the phony politeness. You'll be dead meat if my mom is hurt, buddy, so you might as well tell me what's going down right now."
"Dead meat," the voice repeated. "A colorful but rather repulsive image, don't you think? What's going down, my hotheaded young friend, is simply this: Fenton Hardy must be back at your house in twenty-four hours to answer a phone call. In person. Is that clear?"
Instinctively Frank looked at his watch, which read five-thirty. "And what if he's not?"
"Must you ask so many questions?" the voice answered. It chuckled malevolently, making a sound not unlike broken glass scratching a blackboard. "If he's not, your beloved mother will die."
Chapter 3
There was a hollow click at the other end of the phone. Frank stared at it unseeing for a few seconds before he hung up.
Joe appeared in the hallway outside the den. He looked over his shoulder to check on Gertrude, then walked toward Frank. "That slime-ball," he hissed. "If he laid a finger on Mom - "
"Did you get the voice on tape?" Frank interrupted, his face taut with concentration.
"Yeah, but a lot of good that's going to do us. The guy was using a scrambler, so we can't run a voice-pattern test. There's no way we can involve the police after what he said."
"We're just going to have to find Dad. Obviously this guy doesn't want to talk to us."
"Great," Joe retorted. "Only Mom knows where he is. What do we do, call information for the state of Massachusetts and say, 'Fenton Hardy, please. He's on a secret intelligence trip somewhere in the southwestern part of your state. Can you locate him?' Frank, this guy's got us over a barrel."
"I'm not so sure," Frank said. He cast a concerned glance toward the den. "Let's get Aunt Gertrude upstairs. Then I want to hear that tape again."
They went into the den to find Aunt Gertrude still sitting on the couch, her head back, her eyes shut. "No ... no," she mumbled. "Leave my sister-in-law alone. She has two youngsters. If you must take someone, take me!"
Joe raised an eyebrow. "Youngsters?" he repeated under his breath.
Frank reached out and gently folded his hand over his aunt's. "Come on. I think you need a rest, Aunt Gertrude."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Frank! My goodness, did I fall asleep?"
Frank nodded.
"Who was on the phone?" she asked with sudden hope. "Was it Fenton?"
"No," Joe replied, thinking fast. "It was - uh - an electronic voice. You know, one of those tape recordings that tries to sell you things."
Aunt Gertrude nodded absently. "And for that the two of you had to rush off, leaving me all alone?" Joe opened his mouth to answer, but she waved him off. "Never mind. I suppose I can't expect you to act normally when your dear mother has been - " Her voice choked in the middle of the sentence.
"Please, Aunt Gertrude," Frank said, urging her toward the stairs. "We'll get in touch with Dad. Why don't you have a little nap? I'm sure you'll feel better."
Protesting feebly, she allowed her nephews to take her up to her room. They sat her down on her bed, and before they were out of the room she had curled up and fallen asleep.
They quietly skittered down the stairs, walked into their father's office, and sat down.
"Now we know for sure we didn't run over that soda bottle in the parking lot. The kidnappers punctured the tire to keep us occupied while they took Mom," Joe said.
"You're right," Frank agreed. "I think we should study the tape, listen to this guy's accent, listen for background noise. Did you set the ticker when you turned it on?"
"What do you think I am, an amateur?" Joe rewound to 000 and played the tape back: "Your mother, I'm pleased to say, is enjoying quite pleasant accommodations. . . ."
It was impossible to detect an accent, Frank thought. The voice was so
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