Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
Flesh and Blood (5 page)
"If you DON'T get out of my hair and out of my office right now, I'm going to call security and have you thrown out!" yelled a haggard Bruce Smith.
What hair? Frank asked himself as he watched the overhead light bounce off the older man's bald head.
For the past fifteen minutes Frank had been arguing with Smith, trying to convince the president of BE to let him use a computer terminal and the photo aging program.
"I can be in and out of the program in an hour," Frank repeated for the umpteenth time.
"No! I don't have the time or the space for one of your hare-brained schemes, Hardy. The tornado caused our mainframe to dump just about every program we had, and we've got to get our systems back up or lose our government contracts." Smith rubbed his shiny scalp. With clenched teeth he said, "Now, get out of my office and out of BE."
Frank threw his hands up and left. A dead end. He'd have to think of another way to try to identify Mock's son. Perhaps a police artist could help. That would mean asking Chief Collig, and Frank knew the answer already.
He pulled the photo from his pocket and looked at the back. If only the date weren't smudged, then he could be more sure of Bobby Mock's age.
"Hey, Frank!" someone called out just before Frank reached the front glass doors of BE.
Frank turned and saw David Simpson walking up to him. David was vice president of BE and had been out to Bayport High's computer club several times to teach new programing techniques. He had always been impressed with Frank's expertise.
"Hi, David. I hear your computers crunched all your programs."
"Not all, thank goodness, but enough to make me wish I was driving a truck for a living." David pointed at Frank's bandage. "Looks like that tornado just about wiped out your programming, too."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Say, if you're looking for a part-time job, we need temporary programmers until we're completely back on line."
The thought struck Frank, and he almost said yes. What better way to get access to the computer program he needed. Then again, he would probably be assigned to punch in some boring government documentation. That could take hours - time he didn't have to spare.
"Sorry," Frank said with a shrug.
"Well, let me know if you need anything." David turned to leave.
"Wait, there is something." Frank looked at the photo in his hand. "I need to identify this kid."
David took the photo and looked at it. "Working on a case?"
"Yes. Missing person. It's important that I find him as soon as possible."
David looked at the photo again and then at Frank. "The problem is that I won't be able to get to you right away. I had to steal the break I'm on now."
"I understand, but this is a matter of life or death. I've already talked to Mr. Smith, and he - "
"Said no," David interrupted with a knowing smile.
"Right."
"Tell you what. Have you got a modem for your home computer?"
"Only the best," Frank replied, aware of what David was going to say next.
"I'll get to this as soon as I can and send the results via the modem. Let me make a laser print of this for our computer." David was gone and back in a matter of minutes. "Here." He handed the small school photo back to Frank.
"Can you tell me about when I might expect it?" Frank didn't want to sound too anxious, but the sooner they knew who Bobby Mock was, the sooner they could have him in jail.
"Sorry, Frank," David replied with a shake of his head.
"Thanks. I'll wait at home."
"Take it easy, Frank. Say hello to your dad for me."
"I'll be sure to do that."
Frank left the Bayport Electronics building. He hoped that Joe had had better luck at the hospital. He flagged down a taxi and headed to Bayport General. He was tired. He sat back in the seat and had to force himself to stay awake. First the freak tornado had nearly torn apart Bayport, and now a killer was out to murder the Hardys. It had not been a good day.
***
"Ouch!" Joe moaned as the doctor made sure Joe's shoulder wasn't dislocated. He was sitting on a bench in the emergency room, Chief Collig and Officer Riley hovering over him like angry parents.
"Serves you right for interfering with the police," Chief Collig growled. "I ought to throw the book at you."
"If I hadn't walked in when I did, you'd never have known that Mock's son was in the hospital," Joe said.
"He's right, Chief," Officer Riley said in Joe's defense.
Chief Collig scowled at Officer Riley.
"I want Officer Murphy in my office tomorrow morning," Chief Collig ordered.
"Where is Officer Murphy?" Joe asked.
"Stationed in front of Mock's door, where he should have been in the first place," Officer Riley replied. "He's got a nasty bruise on his chin where Mock's son slugged him with that magnum, but he'll survive."
"Not when I'm through chewing him out," Chief Collig added.
"There," the doctor said. "You'll be okay, but you're sure you didn't run into the wall and not his chest?"
Joe looked into the young doctor's eyes. "I know the difference between a wall and some guy's chest." He turned to Officer Riley. "I'm telling you his chest was like steel."
"Joe!" Frank shouted as he entered the room.
"Please, don't shout," Joe said as he squeezed his eyelids shut.
"Good. You're both here." Chief Collig began buttoning up his raincoat. "I'm going to tell you two for the last time to keep your noses out of police business. Officer Riley, if you see these two working on this case, I want you to hold them until their parents return from Philadelphia."
"Yes, sir," Officer Riley said.
Frank bristled at Chief Collig's order. "On what charge?"
"No charge," Chief Collig said as he put his hat on and buttoned up his raincoat. He smiled. "Protective custody." Then he stormed out.
Frank and Joe turned to Officer Riley.
Riley shrugged. "Sorry, boys. You heard the chief."
Joe was ready to tell Frank what had happened when a rapid, high-pitched beeping sounded in the hospital corridor.
Frank, Joe, and Officer Riley ran out into the hallway and followed the nurses to Mock's ICU room.
"What happened?" Officer Riley quickly asked Murphy.
"I - I - I don't know," the young officer stammered.
A tall thin doctor was leaning over Leonard Mock. He pulled the sheet over Mock's body and turned to the Hardys.
The doctor's face was grim, but his voice was matter-of-fact. "He's dead."
***
Frank and Joe returned home to find that electricity had been restored, but the phone lines were still down. Frank contacted the ham radio operator in Hoboken and relayed a message to his father that they were all okay. He didn't mention anything about Leonard or Bobby Mock.
Frank and Joe said little as they ate and got ready for bed. The one thought that kept crossing their minds was, How would Bobby Mock react to his father's death?
They decided to set the alarm system to the house after double-checking the windows and doors to make sure they were all locked.
Before going to sleep, Frank made up his mind to visit BE the first thing in the morning to check up on the aging progress of the kindergarten photo of Bobby Mock. With the phone lines still down, the modem was useless.
***
The next day dawned gray and wet. Frank had risen early to check his father's old files and was chewing on an English muffin when Joe walked into the kitchen.
"So, what's the plan for the day?" Joe asked as he took a mixing bowl down from a cabinet and grabbed a box of cereal.
"The phones are still out, so we'll have to go to BE for the photo of Bobby Mock."
Joe dumped the half-full box of cereal into the bowl and covered the flakes with milk. "Then what?" he asked as he crunched down on the cereal.
"Then we find Bobby Mock and turn him over to the police."
Joe reached behind himself for the orange juice sitting on the cabinet. Only a little juice remained in the bottom of the jug so Joe didn't bother to get a glass. He raised the edge to his lips and drank. The cold, tart juice felt good against his dry throat.
"You know what Aunt Gertrude would say if she saw you doing that?" Frank said with a sly smile.
"What she doesn't know won't hurt me," Joe quipped back.
The phone suddenly rang, and both Frank and Joe nearly jumped out of their chairs.
"I thought you said - " Joe began.
"Must have gotten fixed sometime in the night," Frank said. He was ready to answer the ringing phone when it suddenly stopped and he heard his computer blip on upstairs. He sat back down.
"Aren't you going to see who it is?" Joe asked, referring to the image that was printing right then of Bobby Mock.
"It'll take a few minutes to print." Frank bit down on the last of his muffin and washed it down with a glass of milk. He calmly dusted his hands and then headed for his computer.
Joe finished off his bowl of cereal and then scoured the cabinets for another box, but there was none. He imagined he knew what Old Mother Hubbard's dog felt like. Maybe, they could stop off at a convenience store and get some cinnamon rolls.
Joe walked from the kitchen to the living room and swung around the banister to head upstairs. He stopped short when he saw Frank sitting on the stairs.
"Whoa," Joe said with a smile, but his smile quickly vanished when he saw Frank's face.
Frank was holding the computer printout in his hands, his face was gray, and his eyes were fixed and staring.
"What is it?" Joe asked, his voice almost a whisper. Frank didn't answer. He only stared. "Who is it?"
Frank still didn't answer, but this time he slowly raised his hand to give Joe the color printout of eighteen-year-old Bobby Mock.
Joe gasped as he recognized the computer picture of their best friend - Chet Morton!
"That's impossible!" Joe shouted.
"I think so, too," Frank said, his voice a whisper. "But that's why we thought he looked so familiar."
"Someone's trying to set Chet up," Joe said.
"And make fools of us. Mock had years to plan this."
"This sounds like something out of a spy novel." Joe sat down on the steps, still staring at the computerized Chet Morton.
"Before you got up this morning, I went down to the basement and got out Dad's oldest files, the stuff he didn't put on computer. Mock's file was full of letters threatening to kill Dad and destroy our family."
"How does this fit?"
"What better way to get even than lead us to believe that our friends are against us? Didn't you say that Bobby Mock promised his father that he would get our friends?"
"Yeah," Joe replied. "That's why he had those pictures of you, me, Callie, and Chet."
"Exactly."
"What now?"
"First, we find Chet and show him this." He pointed to the printout. "From what Bobby Mock said at the hospital last night, we can assume that Chet's life is in danger."
Joe stood up and walked back down to the living room. He put the printout on the coffee table and picked up the phone. He tried the Morton home first, but a telephone company tape recording told him that the phone was out of service. That would make sense. Not all the phones in Bayport would be fixed at the same time.
Frank called Callie to warn her that her life might be in danger. Mr. Shaw told Frank that Callie had gone to the television station. She had tried to call Frank, but their line was busy. Callie must have tried to call while the modem was working.
Frank tried WBAY. Callie had left with a tall, heavyset blond kid, the assignment editor said. The "heavyset blond kid" was probably Chet Morton. What was Chet doing at the television station? Frank asked himself.
The assignment editor went on to explain that Callie wanted to get some shots from the top of the old Farmers and Merchants Bank building in the downtown area. It had seen some of the worst damage.
"Looks like Newshawk Shaw is dragging Chet all over town," Joe said after Frank told him what the assignment editor said.
"We've got to find Chet and warn him - and Callie, too," Frank replied.
"You read my mind."
They were out the door when Don West pulled up in his red sports car. He jumped from his car and ran up to the Hardys.
"You're not going to believe this," he said, almost out of breath. He took a file from under his raincoat and handed it to Frank. "I had to wait until this morning before anybody arrived at work. These are only copies." He held up the folder. "Bobby Mock's adoption papers."
The three went into the house.
Frank opened the file and began reading.
"What happened to your cheek?" Joe asked, noticing a reddish bruise on Don's left cheek.
"Some boxes fell on me when I was trying to find those files," he replied with a shrug, avoiding Joe's eyes.
"I can't believe this!" Frank threw the file on the coffee table.
Joe picked up the file and opened it.
"I couldn't believe it, either," Don said.
"It looks like Chet Morton is Bobby Mock."
"He can't be!" Joe blurted out. "I've known him for years."
"What's that got to do with anything?" Don asked.
"Could anyone have planted this file in vital records?" Frank asked.
"I doubt it," Don replied. "I had to be sneaky just to get copies made without getting caught."
"These are fake," Joe said.
"What about the picture?" Don asked.
"What picture?" Frank eyed Don suspiciously.
"I went to the police station to look for you guys. Con Riley was all upset about a missing school picture. He said he thought you might have taken it."
"I don't know what he's talking about," Frank said. He glanced at Joe.
Don snapped his fingers. "I just remembered. When I went to city hall to look for that file, I saw Chet and Callie going to the old bank building across the street. Then I saw Chet come out by himself."
"So?" Joe asked.
"So he looked like he'd been in a fight. He jumped into his car and drove away."