The Mystery of the Spiral Bridge Read Free Page B

“Are you sure, Miss Tice, there was nothing else stolen from this room? Like hypodermic syringes or sedatives?”
    â€œPositive,” the nurse assured him.
    Frank spoke up. “Joe and I hope to solve this mystery on our own, Chief, but we’d like to brief you on it.”
    The boys gave the officer a concise account, ending with their plan for possibly picking up a clue on tape.
    â€œGood idea,” the chief said. “I’ll do my best to help you. At least we can have an alert sent out for anyone resembling the intruder. I’m posting a guard on this floor, and also will have this jacket analyzed in our lab.”
    â€œThanks, Chief. That’s swell,” said Frank.
    When the police had gone, Frank asked the nurse, “Did you have much of a tussle with the thief?”
    â€œNo. When I grabbed his mask, he pushed me aside and ran.”
    â€œWould you mind showing me your fingernails?” Frank requested.
    The woman held out her hands. Using a pocket flashlight, Frank carefully scrutinized both hands. Suddenly he said, “Here’s something—a wisp of black hair!” He pointed to the nurse’s right forefinger.
    â€œWhy, I never noticed it!” she exclaimed.
    Miss Tice removed the tiny hair, which Frank folded in a sheet of white paper and put in his slacks pocket.
    The young sleuths took the recorder, thanked the nurse for her cooperation, and left the room. Outside Mr. Hardy’s door was a patrolman whom the boys knew. He assured them, “No sneak thief will get by Tim Callahan.”
    The Hardys grinned. “I believe it, Mike,” said Joe.
    As soon as they arrived home, Frank and Joe went directly to their lab. Frank was first to study the strand of hair under a powerful microscope. “Joe! Take a look!”
    His brother did so. “Say! That hair’s gray near the roots. It’s dyed black!” Joe was exuberant. “Matlack’s for sure. I bet the mustache is phony too.”
    Both boys were exhilarated by the thrill of their discovery. Now for the tape. Did it, too, hold a valuable clue?
    Soon the tape was revolving on the machine, and although Frank had turned the volume up full, there were great stretches of silence. These were interspersed by Mr. Hardy’s mumbling, which was indecipherable—except one word that came through with relative clarity.
    â€œWhat’s that, Joe? Something like ‘licks’? I’ll play it back.” The strange word, or part of a word, came over three times.
    Joe listened intently. “Sounds to me like Felix,” he said.
    â€œCould be. Perhaps Felix is a henchman of Matlack’s.” Frank shut off the machine and Joe telephoned police headquarters. Chief Collig was still there.
    â€œChief,” said Joe, “do you know of any underworld character named Felix? We think that’s a word which came over on the tape.”
    Collig said this did not ring a bell, but he would check his files thoroughly. “I’ll let you know.”
    When Frank and Joe returned to the house, they quietly went into the kitchen and made cocoa. As they drank, the brothers discussed the night’s events. Suddenly Joe put down his cup. “Frank! In all the excitement we forgot to check the airport for the plane that tailed Jack!”
    Frank immediately telephoned Bayport Airport, and learned that one other plane from Kentucky, an air taxi out of Louisville, had asked for landing permission the previous afternoon. It had taken off a short while ago.
    â€œJoe, that Kentucky pilot must have been the one who tailed Dad’s plane!” Frank exclaimed. “Wish we could’ve nabbed him.”
    â€œWhere is he headed?” Joe asked.
    â€œLa Guardia Airport in New York.” Because it was too late for the Hardy boys to do anything further, they tumbled into bed. Early the next morning Aunt Gertrude summoned them to breakfast. Although the bacon and scrambled