"Great going buddy," cried a delighted Joe, clapping his friend enthusiastically on the back. He reached into his holdall and pulled out a fresh, plastic bag. Opening it wide, he passed it to Chet to hold. Joe placed his thumb and fingertip carefully on the sides of the tool, gingerly lifted and dropped it into the bag.

"That is definitely the wrench that was used on Frank’," remarked Callie, eyeing it apprehensively. "The sight of that thing’s burned into my memory. I’ve been having nightmares ever since."

Joe held the bag up to the light and inspected the wrench, "It certainly looks like it," he looked closer. "Yes, look at this," he pointed to a spot at the top end. "There’s a strand of dark coloured hair, probably Frank’s." Vanessa wrinkled her nose with distaste and took a step backward. "They must have thrown it from the truck after they dealt with me."

"What are we going to do with it?" asked Callie, "We can’t keep it, that would be withholding evidence, we really need to turn it over to the Police."

"I agree," said Biff. "But if we do that, Chief Collig will know we haven’t backed off and then he’ll really get steamed with us - we’re certainly stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"Not necessarily," said Joe, "I suggest we take the wrench back to Nessa’s place where we can photograph it. At the same time we can use your computer to track our new friend’s licence plate number. Then we’ll take it over to Police Headquarters and leave it anonymously at the front desk."

***

Piling out of the van, they walked up the gravel drive to Vanessa’s farmhouse. They entered and came face to face with Andrea, Vanessa’s Mom. "Hi Kiddo," she said greeting her daughter. She regarded Joe for a couple of seconds, "Nice black eye."

"Yeah," he sighed, wondering how may others where going to comment on it.

"You all look excited about something, what’s up?"

"We’ve just heard that Frank’s definitely coming home," replied Vanessa thinking on her feet.

"That’s good news, you must be greatly relieved Joe."

"Yes, thank you Mrs Bender."

"We’re going up to my room, Mom, to mess about on the internet."

"Okay, have fun."

"Thank you," they all chorused, running up the stairs. The entered her room which was filled with an array of electronic wizardry.

"Wow!" exclaimed Chet. "I’ve never seen so much computer equipment in one place in my life!"

"Don’t be too impressed, this is chicken feed compared to what my Mom’s got. This is all hand-me-downs that she passes to me when she’s finished with it." Vanessa’s mother Andrea was a graphic artist who created animated cartoons for TV and film.

"Where’s your digital camera, Vanessa?" asked Joe glancing round.

"We don’t it, I’m going to put the wrench straight onto the scanner plate," she explained further. "You see, If its scanned at a high enough resolution we’ll get a much clearer image."

They cleared the table top and put a layer of clean plastic onto the surface. Under Joe’s direction, Biff held the bag whilst Chet put on latex gloves and carefully lifted the wrench whilst his girlfriend made sure the scanner plate was completely free of dust and grime.

She stood aside and watched as Chet gently laid the tool on the glass. "Pass me that cardboard lid," she asked Callie. Vanessa took the lid from her friend and placed to over the wrench. "This will act as the scanner lid without actually touching anything." Joe nodded with approval.

Vanessa turned on her computer, entered her password and opened the scanner’s software programme. Clicking on various instructions, the machine began to whirr and a solid band of white light travelled underneath the cardboard lid. It came to the end of its run and clicked off. An image of the wrench honed into view on the screen.

"Impressive," breathed Callie.

"I haven’t finished yet, just a few more touches, and the image will be crystal clear". She clicked with the mouse causing the image to fluctuate. Finally Vanessa sat back in her seat and turned the monitor to face her friends.

"That’s amazing," said Biff.

Vanessa smiled. "Easy - when you know how."

"Let’s flip it over and do the other side," Joe said.

"This will takes seconds now that the calculations are set," said Vanessa. She pressed a button and the image flashed up. "I’d better save this to the hard-drive and burn a CD copy as a back-up."

"Shouldn’t we also dust for fingerprints?" suggested Chet.

"I don’t think that’s wise. If we dust it, it will be obvious to the cops who found it," said Callie.

"Also," began Joe. "Fingerprints are useless to us. I don’t have access to police files to be able to compare any that we did lift. We’ll have to satisfy ourselves with the scans."

"Nessa, can you print a couple of copies onto photographic paper." She leaned across and pushed a couple of sheets of glossy paper into the printer tray. Soon Joe was in possession of the photographs.

"Okay handsome," said Vanessa to her boyfriend, pushing herself back in the chair and standing up. "Your turn to impress everyone and look up that car number."

Everyone looked at Joe expectantly. "Erm…I’ve got a little confession to make," he said, looking sheepish. "I’ve never really paid much attention to what Frank does when he accesses the computer for that type of information."

"Oh, terrific Genius Boy. It may not have occurred to you, but these sites have security access and I don’t know the passwords," remarked Vanessa.

"Sorry."

Callie gave a small cough, linked her fingers together and cracked her knuckles noisily.

"Jeez Callie, that’s gross!" groaned Chet.

"Step aside, Joseph," she said pushing him gently out of the way and sitting down. "Give the Master room to work!" Everyone stood gaping in amazement as Callie fingers flew. She connected the modem to the telephone line, located the central car database and keyed in a password.

"Where’d you learn to do that?" asked Joe, his eyes all agog.

"You don’t go out with a computer geek as long as I have without picking up a trick or two - what’s the reg. number?" someone handed her Joe’s notebook and she typed in the digits and pressed enter. "Well, here’s the answer, but you’re not going to like it!" she said, one eyebrow in the air.

"What is it?"

"The number is totally unlisted, so the car must be fitted with bogus plates."

"Oh, great, no wonder he wasn’t too bothered about continuing to follow us in the same car, even after being spotted. Can you tell if there’s been any cars of the same make, style and colour that have been stolen in the Bayport area in the last week or so?"

"Hang on a sec," her fingers did their work again. "Not for that particular make of car, no."

"Mind you, it could have been stolen anywhere," remarked Biff.

"It could also be a legitimately owned car, with false plates," said Joe. "Let’s forget about that for now and concentrate on the wrench," he turned to Biff. "You’re probably the least known of us to the Cops…"

"Why, because of your criminal backgrounds?" he smirked.

"Very funny, Laughing Boy! I think we should tag it and you should take it to HQ and leave it at the front desk."

"Oh, terrific! And what do I say to the Desk Sergeant?"

"I’m sure you’ll think of something," Joe replied and winked. He scribbling in his notebook and pushing the photographs between the pages. "Let’s go."

***

Joe parked the van half a block from Bayport Police Headquarters. Biff exited, armed with a plastic carrier bag containing the wrench and a short, unsigned note outlining what was within. Two minutes later he was trotting up the building’s concrete steps and pushing through the swing doors. As he approached the front desk, he was relieved to note that other than the Desk Sergeant, the waiting area was completely deserted.

The Officer looked up and glared at him. "Can I help you son?" he asked gruffly.

"I hope so. I’ve lost my dog and wondered whether anyone had brought him in."

The Sergeant sighed and shoved a piece of paper and a pen at him. "Okay, jot down a description and it’s name, and I’ll go and have a look in the cages."

Biff invented a description and handed it back. "Thanks," the Sergeant heaved himself out of his chair and sauntered off.

Biff spun around, looking for a suitable place to stash the bag. He wanted to leave it where it would be found by a cop rather than a member of the public. His eyes fell on an umbrella stand just on the other side of the desk. He checked no one was looking, hoisted himself up, leaned across the table and dropping the bag into the receptacle. He was back on his feet again looking nonchalant as the Desk Sergeant returned — with a small black dog.

"Here you are kid, here’s your dog, Fluffy."

"I…I…" stammered Biff.

The Sergeant opened the hatch and brought the dog round the front. "You have got a dog leash, haven’t you, kid?"

"Not exactly," said Biff thinking quickly. "I usually just use my belt."

"Kid, In that case, I’m not surprised you lost your dog. Be sure to keep the animal under proper control in future, then he won’t be able to wander off."

"Good advice mister." Biff took his belt off and attached it to the dog’s collar. Holding his pants up with one hand and the dog in the other, he walked out onto the street. The desk sergeant shook his head in despair as he watched him go.

"Well…Fluffy…what am I going to do with you?" The dog looked back and slobbered on his hand. "Yuk, thanks dog, I love you too." He walked back to the van ignoring the curious stares and smiles from passer-bys as he tried to keep from loosing his pants. He reached the Hardy’s van and kicked the side door. The door was opened and his friends looked at him and then down at the dog. Chet opened his mouth to speak.

"Not one word!" he interrupted. "Just drive me and Fluffy to the dog pound."

***

Joe turned his keys in the front door and entered the house.

"Anyone home?" he yelled putting his keys down on the hall table. No response. He looked at the notice board. There was a note pinned to it which Joe tore off and read: ‘Joe, have gone to pick your mother and Frank up from the hospital. Back soon. Dad.’ Joe was a little disappointed as he had wanted to accompany him. He crumpled the note up into a tight ball and threw it in the direction of the waste bin — it sailed through the air and went straight in. "It’s a touch down!" he shouted, punching the air. He went through to the kitchen and opened the icebox. Locating a barrel of double choc-chip ice-cream he got a spoon and wandered into the sitting room to turn the TV on.

A little while later he heard his parents entering the house. He turned off the television and rose from the seat. They walked into the room with Frank in tow who was beaming all over his face.

Fenton was looking a little perplexed.

"Hey Joe," greeted Frank enthusiastically, giving Joe a high-five.

"Sorry I wasn’t home in time to meet you with Dad," Joe apologised.

"Don’t sweat it little bro," he drawled.

Fenton looked at his wife with a ‘what’s-got-into-him’ look but Laura shrugged her shoulders, completely nonplussed. "Would you like a soda, Frank?" she asked taking the ice-cream from Joe.

"Sure, thanks Mom," Frank turned back to his brother, "How’s about showing me around this fancy pad?"

"Okay," he took Frank on the complete tour. It felt weird having to show his brother around a house they had both lived in for years.

"Wow, this is some place, it’s absolutely huge! Mom and Dad must be loaded!" said Frank impressed.

Joe ignored the comment and pushed open another door. "This is your room," they entered and Frank began looking around trying to recognise anything that looked familiar. He opened the closet and flicked through the clothes and belongings within. He opened the drawer to his bedside cabinet and mooched through the trinkets. Finally, he looked at the computer.

"Is that mine as well?" he asked putting his hand on the monitor.

"Yeah, it’s your pride and joy."

"Hey, I can relate to that. How do you use this thing?"

"I’ll turn it on and get you started," Joe sat down and switched on the hard-drive and monitor and the computer whirred into life. He tapped in Frank’s password.

"You know what my password is?" Frank asked surprised.

"Erm…yeah, you always tell me your passwords," Joe said, lying through his teeth. He hoped that when Frank regained his memory he would forget the conversation ever took place. He stood and indicated for his brother to sit down. "Would you like to look at the internet?"

"Okay," Joe leaned over his brother and began giving him instructions. In no time at all, Frank was surfing. "Hey, this technology stuff is great!"

"Yeah, its not bad. Go to the ‘Favourites’ folder above and scroll down. Click here," he instructed, pointing at the screen.

"Is that an internet sight for Dad’s company?" asked Frank looking up surprised into Joe’s eyes. Joe nodded. "Sweet!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily at the picture of Fenton sitting behind a desk holding a magnifying glass and grinning cheesily from ear to ear.

There was a tap on the door and they both turned to see Laura standing there.

"Hi mom, listening at the door again?" asked Frank, winking at Joe.

She ignored the retort. "Frank, there’s someone here to see you," Callie came shyly around the back of Laura, looking very small indeed. She was rubbing her thumb nervously. Joe felt a jolt of compassion, realising suddenly how difficult this moment must be for her. Frank stood up slowly and they both eyed one another. "So, you’re the Callie I’ve been hearing all about?" He asked.

"I guess so."

"I was just saying to Callie, maybe you would both like to drive into town, have a coffee and catch up on some things?" suggested Laura.

"Good idea Mom," agreed Frank. "Do you drive a car Callie?"

"Yes," she said, and then added obviously. "Its parked outside."

"Okay, lets go — you’ll turn off my computer, won’t you Bro?

"Sure, but if you’re going into town, I’d wear one of these," Joe threw one of Frank’s baseball caps at him. "You don’t want to scare the natives."

"Good thinking, Little Bro," catching it his carefully stuck in on his head, concealing his stitches. He ruffled Joe’s hair into a tangle and he and Callie left the room.

Joe and his mother looked at one another and listened to Frank and Callie talking as they headed for the stairs: "We’ve just got to pop to my place first, I’ve go to pick up something…" they heard Callie saying before they moved out of hearing shot.