The Getaway

Joe was furiously rattling the locked closet door as Marvin Coates left the office.

“We’re going to need the crowbar, Frank,” Joe said in the darkness.

With crowbar in hand, Frank groped to the door, searching for a spot where he could begin wedging their way to freedom. “Too bad Coates didn’t come a step closer,” he grunted, setting to work. “I wouldn’t have minded using this on his head.”

“Less talk and more work,” Joe said urgently. “I think I smell smoke!”

“So do I,” Todd said in a shaky voice.

With all his strength, Frank pushed against the crowbar. Wood splintered as the door opened a crack, and Joe’s fear proved to be true. Smoke seeped into the closet. “Give me a hand!” Frank yelled, coughing. He and Joe heaved together. The door opened a little more, but the lock still held them in. Frank reared back, launching a frantic karate kick where he figured the bolt should be. With a noise like a scream, the lock tore off and the door flew open. The office was uncomfortably warm and full of smoke, but there were no flames—yet. “The fire is still upstairs. We’ve got to get out of here—now!” Frank gasped. Pulling their shirts up over their mouths and noses, the Hardys reached down, both grabbing an arm of the still semiconscious Mr. Hooley. They dragged the janitor out into the hallway with Todd Coates following.

In the corridor, the smoke was much thicker. Black smoke attacked their eyes. Frank blinked back tears.

“Where’s the staircase? I can barely see!” Joe hollered, going into a violent coughing jag.

“This way!” Todd yelled. Frank pulled Joe and Todd down to the floor, where there was more oxygen. Following Todd’s lead, the Hardys lugged their unconscious burden along. The smoke was even worse when they reached the base of the stairs. Todd began to cough uncontrollably and suddenly fell to his knees. “Joe, help Todd!” Frank shouted.

“Can you handle Hooley alone?”

Frank coughed. “No problem. I carry big potbellied guys up burning stairs all the time.”

Joe helped Todd to his feet. “See you outside.” Grunting, Frank lifted the limp form of the janitor over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He’s heavier than he looks, Frank thought. Each step upward became a struggle against Hooley’s weight and the smoke that made Frank sick and dizzy. Halfway up, his foot crashed through a burning plank. Frank slipped. The janitor’s weight pinned him down. Frank lay there dazed, gasping for oxygen, slipping off into darkness. .

Then strong hands grabbed him under the arms, and he felt himself being hoisted up over someone’s shoulders.Opening his eyes a few minutes later, Frank found himself stretched out on the boardwalk across the road. Joe stared down at him with a worried expression. “You all right?” Frank nodded and sat up. “What—?” “I got just a bit concerned when you weren’t behind me, so I popped back to look for you.” “And Hooley?” Frank asked, greedily sucking in the fresh, salty sea air. Joe nodded toward a wheezing form lying beside Frank. “Todd’s in the van talking to 911 on our phone. The fire department’s on the way, and Todd is telling Chief Collig about the leased helicopter his uncle keeps parked on his estate. It seems Kim, the secretary, is also a pilot.”

“Well, what are we sitting here for?” Frank rose, and the night spun giddily around him. “You drive,” he said.As Frank pulled himself together on the ride to the Coates estate, Todd Coates watched him with worried eyes over a soot-streaked face. “You guys go through this all the time?”

Frank grinned. “Hey, this is a piece of cake. Of course, you helped to mix things up a bit. Oh, umm. . . sorry. I guess I forgot to thank you for calling 911 when I got pushed at the rec center. But why did you plant those fake ATM cards in our van?” “I was intending to talk to you that night,” Todd said. “But when Glen Revelle went at you guys, well, I got scared off.” He took a deep breath. “I suspected that my uncle was involved in organized crime for a while. One day, I was snooping around, and I found those cards by Kim’s shredder. I didn’t know what they were till I saw something on the news about ATM fraud, and about how your father helped break up the scam.” “You had the evidence. Why not go to the police?” Frank asked. Todd shrugged. “Everyone knows that Uncle Mary and I don’t get along. And since that nonsense with the computer virus, who was going to take my word over my rich, famous uncle’s? But, according to Phil Cohen, you guys had a solid rep as detectives.” “So you went to talk to me, but you got scared off,” Frank said. “I’m not the world’s bravest guy.” Todd stared at the floor of the van. “But I figured if I got you involved, if the cops found the ATM cards in your van, you’d have to solve the case. I didn’t know you were already involved, thanks to my uncle and that Hooley guy. I just got you into trouble when you were already in danger. Sorry, guys. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joe said. “If we were put off by little stuff like that, we wouldn’t be detectives.” “Little stuff?” Todd echoed. After that, he only spoke to direct them to the Coates estate.Joe steered the van up a winding road until Marvin Coates’s mansion came into view. The house stood on the edge of a wind-swept cliff overlooking Barmet Bay and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. But a wrought-iron fence stood in the Hardys’ way. “There’s a keypad that opens the lock,” Todd began.

“No time for that!” Joe yelled. He brought the van up till the bumpers met iron, then gunned the engine. Metal groaned. Then suddenly the van exploded through the gate in a spray of sparks that tore the front bumper off. “Could! ask you guys a question?” Todd said in a tight voice. “Do you. . . like. . . ever have trouble getting car insurance?”

“Let’s put it this way,” Joe said, laughing. “We’ve learned a lot about body work.” “Where’s the helicopter landing pad?” Frank asked. “Around back, near the cliff.” Even as Todd spoke, they heard the roar of a helicopter engine coming to life. Following the sound, Joe stomped on the accelerator, aiming the van at a large hedge. The van bulldozed its way through, its headlights illuminating a small concrete square on the ground with a bull’s-eye painted on it. Looking like a huge dragonfly, the helicopter was about to take off. Joe zoomed straight for it.

“I don’t believe this,” Todd cried. “We’re playing chicken with a chopper!”