Joe Hardy turned from the screen, with its incredible information, to Phil Cohen. “You said Todd Coates is waiting for a modem call from you at his uncle’s office?” Phil nodded, wordless.
“That’s all we need to know. Come on, Frank!” The Hardys jumped into their van, and Joe drove to the Marvin Coates Enterprises’ bay front ware house. The lights were out—in fact, the place seemed deserted.
“You think Todd’s here?” Frank asked doubt fully, looking at the dark building.
“We can’t tell from the outside. That basement office doesn’t have any windows.” Joe climbed into the back of the van and reappeared with a crowbar and a flashlight. “What are those for?” Frank asked. “In case Todd doesn’t answer the door,” Joe replied.
They’d just gotten out of the van when Joe spied a figure hurrying along the boardwalk. As the approaching man stepped into a pool of light from one of the street lamps, Joe ducked down. “Here comes Mr. Hooley,” he said in a low voice.
“He’s out past his bedtime,” Frank whispered as the janitor rang at the front entrance. Hooley was quickly buzzed in, heaving the metal door wide as he entered.
Counting on the loud rasping buzz to hide any noise he’d make, Joe bolted for the door. He managed to hook the heavy slab with his crowbar just before it swung closed. Bracing the door open, he beckoned to Frank. “B-and-E,” Joe whispered, handing the flash to his brother. “Buzzing and Entering.”
They gave Hooley a moment or two to get down stairs, then crept into the warehouse. Frank flicked on the flashlight and shone it around. Nothing. They descended to the lower level, wincing at every creak of the old wooden steps.
The hallway to Todd’s office was deserted, but a crack of light showed beneath the door. Joe put his ear to the door and listened.
“You hear anything?” Frank whispered. “Zip,” Joe replied softly. He slowly turned the handle, pushed the door open a few feet, and poked his head in. “Empty.”
The Hardys stepped inside the office, and Frank headed straight for Todd’s computer, switching it on.
“You looking for something in particular?” Joe asked.
“Anything,” Frank said, browsing through sever al directories. He brought up a list of businesses, tapped some more keys. “Considering what we found on the disk drive he threw out, who knows what we’ll find here.” He leaned forward. “Check it out. These are accounts showing where the money from Byzantine Importers went!”
Joe set the crowbar down on Todd’s desk to peer at the numbers on the screen.
“So, you finally got here.” Todd’s voice came from behind them. “That’s breaking and entering, man.”
Picking up the crowbar, Joe whipped around and put Todd in a headlock, hauling him through the doorway. “With what you have on that computer, I don’t think you’ll want to call the cops,” Joe said. He let Todd go, and Todd didn’t try to run off or fight.
“Phil Cohen told us you were a computer whiz,” Frank said. “Creating computer viruses is one thing. But programming phony ATMs for a jillion dollar scam—that’s not too smart.” Even with Joe still holding the crowbar in his fist, Todd’s expression was cool as he stood there. Calmly, he stated, “I didn’t scam anyone.” “Yeah, right,” Joe scoffed. “Just like you didn’t plant those ATM cards in our van.” “Actually, I think he’s telling the truth,” Frank said, looking just as surprised as Joe was.
“What?” Joe burst out. “But the evidence is right there in his computer.”
Frank shook his head. “The mastermind’s gang has been operating for more than ten years. Todd hasn’t been running scams from the cradle. And these files? They were downloaded from another computer—user ID Kim.”“That’s my uncle’s secretary,” Todd volunteered. “Now you’re trying to tell us that your uncle’s secretary is the kingpin?” Joe asked with an incredulous laugh. “Joe,” Frank said, turning from the computer. “It’s not the secretary, it’s—”
“I suppose Killer Kim is the one who attacked Frank outside the rec center,” Joe cracked.
“No, I’ll take credit for that,” came a new voice from the door.
The Hardys and Todd spun around. Hooley was leaning against the door frame. He smiled, and the light reflected off his gold tooth.
“You know,” Frank said from the computer desk, “when I looked up the hill after my fall, I saw something glinting up there. Who’d have thought it was your gold tooth?” “So I fooled you,” Hooley said with a satisfied smile.
“You left enough clues, we just didn’t put them together,” Frank said. “The boot prints. . . Marvin Coates’s phone number on that program.” Frank had quickly figured out that the number was to reach Todd’s uncle, not Todd, though the boy lived at the same address. “I was wondering where 1 lost that,” Hooley admitted. “Mr. Coates gave me his number—” “But you lost it,” Frank said. “That’s why you had to go to his office.” “You must have poisoned Buff at half-time,” Joe said. “The rat poison was probably in one of those bottles on your cart. Who’d have noticed you cleaning up around our bench?”
“That’s right, sonny boy,” Hooley replied. “I’m also the one who called you and told you to lose the game. And I wrote the threatening note on the ball that smashed through your kitchen window. The ball came from the team’s equipment room. Easy enough to steal, since I have the key.”
“How did you know I was swimming at the rec center the other night?” Joe asked. “1 can answer that one,” Frank said. “The same way he knew to hit the circuit breaker right before the end of the game: He’s got a beeper.”
Hooley smiled and patted his belt, where the beeper was attached. Frank frowned. “Marvin Coates was at the center that night. We just never put it together.” Joe began to get angry as he saw what Frank was getting at. “Yeah, old Mary was around when I nearly got drowned.” He glared at Hooley. “Did he grease my sandals himself, or did he call you in? And what about those ATM cards you planted on us? What was that about?” Hooley stared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”
“But the ATM scam is what started all this,” Frank said. “Marvin Coates Enterprises is just a front for money laundering. No wonder Marvin could throw the bucks around. He had a literal money machine to back him up. But when Dad busted the operation, Marvin Coates’s cash stopped flowing. That’s why he pulled out of the bayfront development program.” “And he couldn’t afford a big expensive score board,” Joe added, leaning back against Todd’s desk. “I got the job of fixing that. It should have been easy, sabotaging a high school basketball game,” Mr. Hooley growled. “But you two junior detectives kept getting in the way. The boss just sent me down to get his nephew. I wonder what he’ll say when he sees—”
While Hooley was talking, Joe let his hand rest on a wooden storage box for computer disks. With a twist of his wrist, Joe hurled the diskettes in Hooley’s face.As Hooley ducked, Frank made his move. He snatched up the crowbar Joe had set down and slapped it against the side of Mr. Hooley’s head. The janitor was out cold before he hit the floor. “Come on!” Todd cried. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
He leaped through the doorway. But a second later, he reappeared, walking backward with his hands in the air. Marvin Coates followed his nephew, a Colt Py thon pistol in his hand. “Drop whatever you used to nail Hooley,” he commanded. “He’s got us,” Joe said loudly, shooting Frank a look as he noisily dropped the empty wooden box to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Frank tuck the crowbar behind his back as Marvin Coates came in. The crime boss scowled down at the groaning Hooley in disgust. “A bungler. I should never have taken him on again. Unfortunately, my regular crew was behind bars. Thanks to Fenton Hardy.” He glared threateningly at Frank and Joe.
At that moment the secretary poked her head inside the door.“Bring the car around, Kimmy,” Coates told her curtly, lowering the gun. She nodded and darted away. Coates sneered at Todd. “My little nephew, the computer whiz. Getting all the dirt on Uncle Mary, huh?” he said, glancing at the computer screen. “I should have destroyed those files long ago. Well, better late than never.” A few keystrokes, and the screen was clear—everything deleted. “Too bad you couldn’t erase your promise to buy our scoreboard just as easily,” Frank said in a calm voice. Coates gave him a wry smile. “Almost immediately after I held that press conference, one of my cop sources told me your father had grabbed my money-making machines. There I was, high and dry. The money I’d so foolishly pledged to my old school is now all the cash I have left in the world.”
“But you only had to part with it if the Bombers won the championship, right?” Joe asked hotly.
“Exactly,” Coates said. “It wouldn’t help my chances of running for mayor if people saw me breaking a promise. And Hooley owed me a favor for getting him that janitor’s job.”
“You were his friend in high places,” Joe said.
“I helped him get in the work-release program.” Coates scowled. “All he had to do was sabotage a high school basketball game.” Coates looked disgusted as he said, “Child’s play, and he couldn’t pull it off. Well, I’m finished with him now.” He looked at the boys. “And now it is time to wrap up Marvin Coates Enterprises. There’s a lovely young lady waiting for me in a car outside. And there’s a bag with what’s left of my ill-gotten gains in the trunk. But, to help us make our getaway—” Coates gestured with the gun. “Carry Hooley into that closet.”
Frank, Joe, and Todd did as they were told. The Hardys each took a shoulder, Todd picked up the unconscious janitor’s legs, and they carried out their grim task. Todd turned to leave the closet first, but before he could step out, Coates banged the door shut.
In the blackness of the enclosed space, Joe scrambled over Hooley’s inert body and slammed his shoulder into the door, desperately putting all his weight behind it. But too late. Coates slid the deadbolt in place. Standing in the darkness, Joe could very clearly hear the sounds of liquid being slopped around. Then he smelled gasoline. “Sorry, boys,” Coates said from outside the door. “But I can’t have any witnesses.”
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