“Coincidence, my aching ankle!” Frank burst out. “I think Todd set us up with those phony ATM cards. The cops got a tip over the phone to look in the van. Now we’ve got Todd on the phone to 911 after the attack on me. This is definitely not a coincidence.”
He frowned. “There’s another connection. Phil saw Todd at the rec center last night. And he said young Mr. Coates was wearing his boots, as usual.”
“So?” Joe said. “If he called 911, we know he had to be around. That would explain the prints.’
“The prints up on the hill were tracked back and forth, several times,” Frank went on. “That’s not the trail of someone who just came on the scene.
Those are the marks of pacing by someone who was waiting for me.”
“If Todd pushed you, why did he call 911?” Joe asked.
“Maybe to divert suspicion from himself. Todd’s a smart guy. He knows we’re detectives,” Frank said. “There’s one more point—the gleam I saw before I passed out. It could have come from Todd’s wire-rimmed glasses.”
“You make a strong case,” Fenton admitted. “But why would Todd try to hurt you?”
Joe explained Todd’s stormy relationship with his uncle. “Maybe he felt it was the only way he could get back at his uncle. Maybe he hoped to ruin Marvin Coates’s chances of getting elected by wrecking our shot at winning.”
They sat in thoughtful silence for a few minutes, turning their attention to Aunt Gertrude’s sand wiches. Frank finished his, then said to Joe, “You said before you’d like to talk to Todd Coates. Well, we’ve got more reasons to now.” He glanced at his watch. “Phil said Todd works part-time for his uncle. It’s just early evening. He might be at the office now.”
“So what are we waiting for?” Joe said, halfway out of his chair.
The boys waved goodbye to their father and headed outside. Soon Frank was pulling the van into an open space on Bayside Drive. One side of the street was lined with buildings. The other was a boardwalk that ran along the bay front. As they climbed out of the van, Frank saw a sleek Jaguar turning the corner.
“Isn’t that Marvin Coates’s car?” Joe asked. “Could be,” Frank said. “Well, if the uncle was working late, maybe the nephew still is.”
Frank took a deep breath of salty ocean air and gazed out over the sparkling twilit waters. In the sky above the gulls were making a racket as a fishing trawler returned to port.
The brothers strolled along the boardwalk opposite the Bayside Warehouse, a long, gray, weather beaten building. A sign above the wide delivery doors identified it as Marvin Coates Enterprises.
“Not exactly what you’d expect for a rich businessman’s headquarters,” Frank observed. “It looks a little shabby.”
“Don’t forget this whole area’s going to be delve oped,” Joe said.
“Was going to be developed, remember? The project’s on hold,” Frank reminded his brother.
The Hardys crossed the street, walking up to a small door next to the delivery entrance. Frank rang the bell set in the door frame, and they were promptly buzzed in.
When they reached the top of the stairs, a door opened and a pretty young woman poked her head out. She seemed surprised to see the Hardys. “Can I help you?” she asked in a perky voice.
“We’re here to see Todd Coates,” Frank said.
“I don’t think he’s here.”
“Was that his uncle Marvin’s sports car we saw leaving?” Frank asked curiously.
The woman pushed a strand of blond hair off her forehead. “Yes, it was. I’m Kim, his secretary. He was on his way to the Bayport rec center to work out.” She gave the boys a dubious look. “Was Todd expecting you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Frank gave the secretary his most innocent smile. “If you’d just point us toward Todd’s office..
The woman paused a moment, then said, “I guess that would be all right. It’s on the lower level. Go back down the way you came and go down another flight.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Frank said.
The Hardys made their way down two flights of stairs and a hall to find Todd Coates’s office. Frank knocked, but there was no answer. He opened the door and flicked on the lights.
It was a small windowless space. Most of the room was taken up by a large worktable thrown together from two short filing cabinets and several wide boards. An impressive-looking, state-of-the art computer sat in the middle of the table. Loose diskettes covered almost every square inch of desktop.
A poster of a rock group was pinned to a door against the far wall. Joe strode across the room and opened the door. Beyond was a large, empty utility closet.
“Uncle Mary didn’t exactly give his nephew the penthouse suite, did he?”
“Find him?”
The Hardys spun around to see the secretary standing in the doorway with a set of keys in her hand.
“I guess we must have just missed him,” Frank said.
The secretary smiled. “Better luck next time. Todd has his own key and comes in at odd hours.” She followed the boys out of the warehouse. At the door, she locked up after them, then headed for her car.
As the Hardys crossed the street to reach their van, Joe suddenly turned toward the boardwalk. “Hey, Mr. Hooley, how’s, it going?” he called to a man approaching them.
Frank glanced over to see the school janitor looking extremely surprised, his jaw slack as he looked back and forth at the brothers.
Recalling the conversation he had overheard between the janitor and the school principal, Joe added, “I thought you weren’t allowed out after dark.”Joe grinned, but a worried expression flashed across the older man’s face. Then he gave them a crooked smile. “Finished late at the school, but I wanted to stop by here.” Mr. Hooley nodded to ward the building that held Coates’s office. “I spoke with Mr. Coates the other day about a custodial position, just in case Mr. Chambers let me go. He’s a fine gentleman, that Mr. Coates, and he told me to call him up if I ever needed any help.”
“He’s not in the office now,” Frank told the janitor. “His secretary said he went over to the rec center for a workout.”
“Just my luck.” Mr. Hooley sighed. “Oh, well, maybe I’ll catch him tomorrow.”
“You’ll probably be working late again, Mr. H.,” Joe said. “Tomorrow is the big game.”
“So it is.” Hooley gave the boys a smile, showing off his gold tooth. “Good luck again.”
The smile quickly faded as he headed back up the boardwalk, his body hunching into the stiff onshore wind.
“Hey, Mr. Hooley! Could we give you a lift?”
“Uh, no thanks,” the janitor called over his shoulder. His words seemed almost torn away by the wind.
“What was that all about?” Frank asked.
“I heard Mr. Chambers chewing him out just before the game,” Joe replied. “They made a big
thing out of Mr. Hooley’s ‘special situation.’ Apparently, he’s got a strict curfew. That’s what I was kidding him about.” Joe shook his head. “I’d say Mr. Hooley is too old to be living with his mom. Maybe he’s got a very strict wife.”
“I don’t think that would impress a school principal,” Frank objected. “From the looks of things, Mr. Hooley’s curfew would have to be more official.”
“What are you getting at, brainiac?” Joe said.
“I think our Mr. Hooley may be living in a halfway house,” Frank replied.
Joe stared at him. “Come on, Frank,” he said. “Mr. Hooley—an ex-con?”
“Not quite an ex-con,” Frank said. “People in halfway houses are still serving prison terms, even if they’re allowed out to work during the day.”
Not entirely convinced, Joe shrugged and said, “Well, at least now we know why he was talking with Marvin Coates. He must have told Hooley to give him a call about a job.” He grinned as he unlocked the door and got behind the wheel of the van. “One question answered. For our next— where to now?”
Frank shrugged. “Phil Cohen told me that Todd Coates stopped by the computer room at the rec center yesterday. Maybe he’s there again tonight You want to check it out?”
“It’s worth a try,” Joe said.
As soon as they entered the front door of the rec center, they saw Todd coming out of the crafts room on the main floor.
“Hey, Todd. Todd Coates!” Frank shouted. “We want to talk to you.”
Todd didn’t answer. The second he saw the
Hardys, he took off down the hallway. Frank and Joe started after him. Todd reached the stairway at the end of the hall and darted downward.
“There’s an emergency exit on the lower level,” Frank said. “That must be where he’s heading.”
Todd had made it down one flight when the Hardys reached the stairs. Frank saw him glance back as he and Joe barreled toward him.
But something went wrong as Todd skidded around to the next flight. His feet seemed to slide out from under him on the landing.
With a wild yell, Todd tumbled helplessly down the stairwell!
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