Joe awoke the next morning feeling miserably tired, rolled over and looked at the clock - it read 9.30 a.m. He groaned and stretched, touching something leathery. "Yuk!" he shouted, shocked out of his stupor. Sitting up, he looked to see exactly what the horrible thing was and discovered Frank’s jacket, still laid across the bed from the night before.

His older brother rolled over bleary eyed and whispered, "Please don’t make any noise or sudden movements, Bro, my head feels like someone is playing the bongos on it."

Joe leaned forward, right over his ear. "Served you right," he said loudly. This caused Frank a not inconsiderable amount of discomfort and Joe grinned cruelly. "Come on Frank, you’ve got to get back to your own room, or Mom and Dad will realise something’s up."

***

Joe entered the kitchen, went to the medicine cabinet and took out the bottle of aspirin.

"You got a headache?" asked Fenton.

"No, not me. Frank’s woken up with a migraine - understandable considering the last few days," he looked at his parents, mentally willing them not to ask questions.

"I’ll take them to him," decided Laura, rising to her feet.

"NO…no it’s okay mom, I’ve got it covered. You stay and eat your breakfast," he quickly backed out of the room before his mother could argue. He returned within minutes and sat down with his parents.

"Isn’t Frank coming down for breakfast?" asked Laura.

"No. He said he’s feeling a little nauseous so isn’t hungry - best to leave him alone and sleep," he took a piece of toast, aware that his father was looking at him strangely. He kept his head down whilst he ate.

"We had a visitor yesterday whilst you were out," said his father.

"Oh?" asked Joe, relieved at this change in conversational subject.

"Yes, Con Riley dropped by. Apparently, someone entered headquarters yesterday and left a wrench at reception, propped up in an umbrella stand."

Joe looked at his father with what he hoped was a look of bemusement. "How strange!"

"They analysed it, and it had traces of blood and hair - Frank’s blood and hair."

Joe’s altered his expression to one of dumb astonishment. "Oh, that wrench? I wonder who found it, and then dropped it at the desk?" he said, stalling.

"Riley wanted to know the answer to that too. What is most Interesting is that it had been carefully wrapped in plastic to preserve any evidence."

"Very astute of whomever found it," Joe replied swallowing hard.

"Wasn’t it?" Fenton looked his son in the eye for a few, long seconds. Joe managed to hold his gaze, without dropping his eyes. "You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Joe?"

"Me? No dad," he said taking the opportunity to look away. He continued to chew for a couple of minutes. "Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"Did they find any fingerprints on it?"

"No, all fingerprints had been wiped before it was disposal of."

"That’s a shame."

***

Joe contacted his friends and asked them to meet him at Vanessa’s house. He headed off early in order to arrive before everyone else so he could speak to her alone.

Vanessa opened the door. "Hi Joe, you’re early" she said, giving him a kiss.

"Can I talk to you in private?"

"Sure, let’s go up to my room," they climbed the stairs together. "What is it?" asked Vanessa closing the door and sitting on the edge of her bed.

Joe recanted all that had happened the previous night, becoming more and more annoyed with his girlfriend when she kept laughing. "Nessa! It’s not funny!"

"Yes it is!" she looked at her boyfriend and saw that he didn’t find it the least bit amusing. "Hey, lighten up ‘Joey’…okay, sorry Joe, I won’t laugh anymore. So, tell me, who’s this Gillian then, another Biker?"

"Yes, but I don’t think it was anything serious, just a bit of fun. Frank would be appalled if he was in his right mind," he furrowed his brow. "Gillian’s face was familiar to me, but I can’t seem place where it is I’ve seen her before - probably around town," he decided, dismissively.

"What are you going to tell Callie?"

"Tell Callie?" he repeated amazed. "I’m not going to tell Callie anything. Frank will probably get his memory back soon and loose interest in anything ‘Bikey’, so why upset her for nothing?"

"True," said Vanessa tapping her lip. "I think we should keep our eye on things though, just in case."

"That’s what I was hoping you’d say.

They heard the sound of the doorbell and traipsed back down the stairs.

***

They all sat in the back of the van.

"What happened last night? Did you manage to halt Frank’s little escapade?" asked Callie.

"Yep. He didn’t get very far."

"That’s a relief."

Joe gave Vanessa a sly winked and turned back to the others to bring them up to date regarding the visit from Con Riley.

"So, their lab results failed to uncover any new evidence?" said Biff.

"That’s right, but we now know that this particular type of wrench is used only on building sites, so that’s where we should start aiming our investigation," said Joe.

Chet suggested visiting the highway development down town and they headed off. Upon arrival, Biff and Joe approached a labourer, who pointed out the foreman. He looked at the wrench and shook his head. He also failed to recognise the description of either of the men they were looking for.

They next drove to a commercial office construction site and approached a tall man, who was dressed in blue overalls. He wore a badge that identified him as the head honcho. "Sorry lads," he said raising his palms, pre-empting their approach. "I’m not hiring anyone at the moment."

"That’s not why we’re here, Sir" said Joe. "My name’s Joe Hardy and this is my friend Biff Hooper, we we’re wondering whether you would be prepared to answer a couple of questions?"

The foreman, shook Joe’s offered hand firmly. "Joe Hardy you say? Your name sounds familiar to me, have we met before?"

"No, but you may have heard of me and my brother Frank, we’re private detectives in our spare time."

"Oh, that’s right, I knew I recognised the name. Your father’s Fenton Hardy, right?"

"That’s correct."

"He helped my partner out on a fraud case. A good man, your dad." Joe’s chest swelled with pride. "Am I under suspicion?" asked the foreman grinning.

"Why? Got a guilty conscience, or a skeleton in the cupboard you don’t want anyone finding out about?" Joe joked back.

"I hope not! Ask away, and call me Bill."

"Thanks, Bill. We were wondering whether your site ever uses a tool like this?" He unfurling the well-thumbed photograph and handing it over.

Bill studied the picture. "No, we don’t use one of these here, but I know where this type of wrench is used."

"Where?" asked Biff excitedly.

"Usually on bridges. There’s a particular bolt they use, and this wrench is used in conjunction."

"Would they be using one on the new Bayport bridge that’s under construction at the moment?" asked Joe.

"Undoubtedly," he agreed, nodding. "Why do you want to know?"

Deciding to take Bill into his confidence, he explained that they were investigating the situation surrounding the disappearance of the children and gave descriptions of the two men they were looking for. Unfortunately, Bill didn’t recognise either of the suspects.

"Tell you what," began Bill scratching his head. "The foreman at the bridge site is a friend of mine, let me give him a ring and ask him a couple of questions."

"That would be terrific." Joe and Biff watched as Bill strode purposefully away. The van door slid open and they were joined by the rest of their friends.

"What’s happening?" asked Chet.

"He has a friend who’s working at the new bridge construction site and he’s gone to ring him for us," replied Joe. He looked over and saw Bill walking back towards them, clutching a piece of paper in his hand. "Any luck?" asked Joe.

"Maybe, he confirmed that they do use the tool and he also told me he was forced to sack a guy six months ago who matched the description of one of your suspects - the tall one with the shaved head and the scar on his cheek."

"Why was he fired?"

"He was caught stealing gear from the site and attacked a fellow worker in the process."

"Did you find out anything else?" asked Joe, keenly.

"Yep, the guy’s name’s Wayne Powers and this is his address," he handed Joe the slip of note paper which containing the address.

"Wow, thanks Bill, you’ve been a real help," said Joe beaming all over his face and pushing the new piece of evidence into his notebook. "If there’s anything we can do for you…"

"Don’t mention it. It was a pleasure helping one of Fenton Hardy’s sons, he did my partner a great service. Let’s just call it pay-back for a job well done!"

***

Frank awoke at around 11.00 a.m. feeling almost human again. After freshening up, wandered downstairs into the kitchen and started raiding the refrigerator. He was so engrossed in his search that he didn’t hear his mother walking up behind him.

"Headache gone?" she asked.

Frank jerked up and bashed his head on the top of the door opening. "Ouch! It had until you just crept up on me, jeez Mom!" He clutched his head in his hands.

"Sorry Sweetie, didn’t mean to startle you," she came forward and inspected Frank’s stitches. "Still intact."

"Mom?" began Frank, still rubbing his head gingerly. "I was wondering if you could drop me at the Bayport Mall, there’s one or two things I need to pick up."

"What are you up to?" asked Laura suspiciously.

"Up to? Little old me? What could I possibly be up to?"

"I don’t know, but you and Joe are always getting into pickles."

"Not today, I told you, I’ve got to pick up one or two things, and I won’t even be with Joe."

"Well…okay then."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, turning back and returned his head to the icebox again.

***

The gang were all back in Vanessa’s room with Callie sitting at the computer. She pressed a button and the printer began to whirr loudly and spit out several sheets of printed paper. "That’s Wayne Power’s full rap sheet," she said. "It makes for interesting reading."

Joe picked the sheets out of the collection tray. "Mr Powers has been a busy boy," he agreed. "Numerous convictions for assault, burglary, blackmail and even a short prison term for attempted murder."

"He sounds dangerous," shuddered Vanessa.

"He is dangerous," said Chet reading over his friend’s shoulder. "Remember what he did to Frank? I think it’s time we passed this information to the police and leave them to deal with it - before we get in over our heads."

"We can’t go to the cops. All we have is circumstantial evidence, none of which we can make stick," replied Joe. "What I suggest is that we give Mr Power’s a visit at home and Cal, Nessa and me can see what he looks like - we can at least I.D. the guy before going to the police."

***

They sat in the van looking out of the window at the tenement building across the street. "Well, that’s his place," said Joe. "The ground floor apartment. Now all we have to do is get him to come to the door so that we can have a good look at him. Anyone got any bright ideas?"

"I have," said Biff. "But I don’t relish the thought, and Chet will hate it."

"Better and better," quipped Vanessa.

Biff continued. "We’ll knock on his door and then apologise and tell him we made a mistake."

"In your dreams," scoffed Chet. "Didn’t you read the guy’s rap sheet? He’d probably kill us for breathing the same air as him!"

"Well, we’re not getting anywhere sitting here," said Biff, opening the side door. "Wish me luck guys!"

"Okay, okay - wait up Lanky Boy, you win!" Chet stepped out to join him. Both crossed the street and walked up to the door.

Joe, Vanessa and Callie watched as they seemed to be arguing over who should knock. Eventually Chet rapped his knuckles loudly on the door and they both retreated well back. After about 30 seconds of waiting they knocked again.

Suddenly Biff turned and looked to his right. A tiny, hunched-up old man was shuffling towards them, brandishing a walking stick menacingly. "What do you want?" he asked in a shrill voice.

"Hey, take it easy, we only wanted to speak to Wayne," said Biff.

"Well, there ain’t no one living in this apartment no more. Wayne shot through about three days ago without paying his rent. If you see him, tell him from me that he don’t get his stuff back till I get my money!" with that he slowly turned and hobbled away.

"Nice, friendly, old timer," murmured Chet under his breath. They crossed the street and walked up the van’s window.

"He’s not there, apparently he disappeared at about the same time you guy’s had the run in at the park."

"That’s quite a coincidence," said Joe thoughtfully. "And you know I don’t believe in tidy coincidences."

"Neither do I in this case," commented Biff. He narrowed his eyes at Joe. "The one piece of good news is that apparently he lit out without stopping to collect any belongings."

A smile danced slowly across Joe’s lips. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?"

"If you’re thinking that we should drop by for another visit later and search the place, then yeah!"

"You’re both mad - listen to yourselves!" said Vanessa. "We can’t just go barrelling into someone’s apartment uninvited, we’ll be arrested."

"Only if we get caught, which not something I’d be planning to do," Joe countered.

"Well, you can count me and Callie out, we’ve a previous engagement, which I think in the circumstances is a stroke of genius."

***

Joe returned to the house to have dinner and ready himself for his evening rendezvous. He headed up stairs and looked into Frank’s room, half expecting him to still be recovering. Seeing the room was empty he sighed and entered his own room to change into dark coloured clothes. He heard his father moving about his study and went and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Joe opened the door and poked his head in. "Hi Joseph, come on in."

"Have you seen Frank?" asked Joe.

"Your Mother dropped him into town to run a few errands," said Fenton, he paused and consulted his watch frowning. "Actually, that was quite a few hours ago."

"No one could accuse the doctor of exaggerating when he warned us we might notice changes in Frank," said Joe.

"No, your right, he’d would never have disappeared for hours at a time like this before the amnesia."

"It’s like living with a stranger," commented his son, dejectedly.

"You have to remember that you’ve both been spent the last 17 years living in and out of each others pockets," observed his father "So you’re bound to find it strange. All we can do is play the waiting game."

"Yeah, I know," Joe responded, his voice breaking and sounding choked.

Fenton studied his son, suddenly realising just how difficult Joe was finding things. He put his arm around him and opened the door. "Come on, dinner will be on the table in a minute, let’s have a quiet family meal and try and knock some sense into the lad!"

"Bad choice of words Dad."

***

"Well, am not waiting any longer," snapped Laura. "The dinner’s going to be charcoal if I don’t serve up now. Fra…" her speech silenced by a sharp rap on the door. "At last!" she cried.

Joe slid out from the table and went to answer it. He came back a moment later with a look of consternation on his face. Frank followed and stood framed in the doorway. "Hi everyone," he called cheerfully, this is Gillian!"