"Name and business?" he requested.

"Josh Douglas and Dave Randall, here to visit Andy Harris," Joe replied, attempting to sound completely nonchalant and calm. "Our names should be on the visitors’ list; Captain Lee approved it." He hoped dropping the captain’s name into the conversation would have the desired effect.

Apparently it did, for the guard scanned his list and evidently found the names. He peered a bit more closely at the two than either Joe or Kiwi was comfortable with, but finally nodded his approval and raised the barricade. "Park anywhere in the lot." he instructed them. "And when you get inside, stop at the Information desk and ask for Harris to come down and meet you."

As they drove into the lot, Kiwi exhaled a long, shaky sigh. "My heart rate’s going ballistic!" he whispered. "This feels like walking into a trap!"

"It’ll be okay," Joe said, with more confidence than he felt. "It’ll be fine…."

The soldier manning the reception desk was cordial enough, and didn’t seem to find their presence odd. He merely checked his list to confirm the names, then lifted the phone and called Frank’s office. When he finished the brief conversation, he nodded to Joe and Kiwi. "He’ll be right down to get you."

Frank’s arrival coincided with a sudden stream of military personnel leaving for the day. The elevators were jammed with persons in various sorts of uniforms, all apparently in as much a hurry to exit as if they’d been running from a fire. Joe and Kiwi were forced up against the Information desk, as they tried to keep from being trampled by the stampeding herd! Frank slowly made his way over to them, crossing against the flow of traffic.

"Hey, Josh, Dave…glad you could make it!" Frank called, and smiled cheerfully at them. "Let’s wait just a minute for the crowd to thin out, and then we can start the tour."

Half an hour later, Joe and Kiwi had seen more of the Bayport Military Police base than they’d ever desired. Frank had started at the top floor and taken them through every place he could think of, stalling for time to let people get out of the way. They now reached the floor where Captain Lee’s and Frank’s own offices were, and the two visitors dutifully followed in Frank’s wake, trying to look properly impressed as he rattled off information and statistics…most of it made up on the spot!

"And this is where I work—" Frank reached a hand to the doorknob, just as the door opened from the other side. To the surprise of all three, Captain Lee was standing in the aperture.

"Ah, Andy! I see your visitors arrived!" the captain boomed. He stepped back, to allow them to enter the office. "Come in, boys!" he invited. "Is Andy doing a good job, I hope?"

"Yessir," Joe murmured. He cast a glance at Frank, then covertly looked at Kiwi, who was staring at the floor. Running into Captain Lee had not been on the scheduled list of events!

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, Frank quickly introduced them, using the same cover story for Kiwi as they had told the Bennetts at the bed-and-breakfast: he was an exchange student. Frank hoped the captain was in a hurry to leave, but unfortunately, Lee seemed to be in a conversational mood, and invited them into his office. There was no way they could politely decline!

When they were seated, Captain Lee looked keenly at Kiwi. "An exchange student, eh? Where are you from?"

"Otago Uni., in D-dunedin, New Zealand." Kiwi stammered. "I’m a scarfie."

"A scarfie?" Lee asked, bemused.

"Yeah, that’s what they call us. Dunedin’s on the southern, colder island, so we wear scarves a lot of the time – that’s where the name comes from…."

For the next few minutes, the Hardys sat and listened, fascinated, as Kiwi fabricated his fictional existence as a student from Dunedin. Captain Lee seemed extremely interested, and stared at Kiwi hard enough to make all three of them nervous.

Finally, Lee said: "You know, Mr. Randall, you remind me of someone…"

Kiwi broke off in mid-sentence, feeling the sweat pop out on his forehead. This is the Military Police, after all – my picture could have been circulated here, too….

The captain opened a side desk drawer, still keeping his gaze locked on Kiwi. "I know why! Just freeze, right where you are…!"

Kiwi wasn’t the only one to freeze; all three were holding their breaths in anticipation of a gun coming out of the desk drawer and Lee saying ‘You’re under arrest." Frank shifted his eyes toward Kiwi; their friend had a panicked, deer-caught-in-the-headlights expresssion on his face.

"I’ve got a picture here of my friend’s son…you look amazingly like him; your expresssions are so similar—" The captain pulled a small photograph album from the desk drawer and opened it up. "See, just look how much you resemble him!"

Kiwi gasped in a breath of air, swallowed wrong, and was taken with a coughing fit so intense he was choking. Frank, with astonishing presence of mind, yanked his friend to his feet and dragged him into the hallway, saying loudly over his shoulder, "Come on, you can get a drink of water…." to explain their sudden departure.

Joe, left alone with the amazed Captain Lee, smiled blandly, wishing inside that the man had gone home at three o’clock!

By the time the badly shaken Kiwi was sufficiently recovered to manage conversation, Lee had put away the photograph album and was on his feet, ready to leave. They politely thanked him for his time, and watched him depart…and then Kiwi sank into his chair once more.

"If I have one more scare like that…" he muttered. "I’ll have a heart attack, and I won’t need to worry about whether or not I’m wanted by the police!"

"Take it easy," Joe attempted to soothe him. "It was okay; he didn’t suspect a thing!"

Kiwi just stared at the younger Hardy, malevolently, and didn’t reply.

"Come on!" Frank urged them. "Let’s quit wasting time! We need to get down to that locker room." He tugged on Kiwi’s arm. "I can’t wait to break into that locker!"

Joe stopped dead. "What do you mean, you can’t wait to break into that locker? I’m doing the breaking-in!" His jaw jutted defiantly at his brother.

"In your dreams!"

Kiwi looked from one stubborn face to the other. "You two are starting to sound more and more like Mark and Rob – I’m obviously a bad influence!" He dug into his pocket. "Look, we’ll toss for it…." He turned to Joe. "Best of three – heads, or tails?"

All too soon, and yet not soon enough, they found themselves in the basement, silent and deserted now, as the day shift people had gone, and the later shifts were already at their posts. They walked quietly down the corridor until they reached the first entrance to the locker room.

Kiwi peeled off to take his place beside the first swinging door, and pushed it open while Frank and Joe entered, nodding a "good luck" at them as they temporarily parted company. Allowing the door to swish shut behind them, the Hardys proceeded on silent feet until they were just over halfway down the length of the dusty locker room.  

Stopping, Joe looked about him. Running along each side were two banks of lockers, each at least seven feet tall, the doors half slatted and battle-ship gray in color. "Which one is it?" he asked.   

Frank stepped over to one and identified it by resting his palm against the cold metal. "I’ll be just outside the door – make it quick huh? We don’t want to be caught rifling through someone’s belongings – that’d take some explaining." he said, half joking.  

Joe nodded. "You’d better go, I’ll call you when I’m done."   

Frank clapped his hand against his brother’s shoulder, then turned and walked away as Joe focused his attention on the indicated locker. He inspected the door minutely. Pretty simple locking mechanism. he noted. Just as I suspected. Listening to the sound of the door closing softly as Frank exited the room; he extracted his lock-pick tools from his back pocket.   

There wasn’t a great deal of light in the room, due to the low wattage of the overhead light bulbs, so he was forced to squint to see. Despite the poor visibility, he pushed two appropriately sized hooked tools into the lock; one he held steady beneath, the other he proceeded to manipulate. His tongue curled around the side of his mouth as he concentrated, which was a habit that always caused Frank great amusement – his brother claimed Joe had to do it ‘for balance’.

No more than a minute later, the tumblers politely slotted into the correct position with a soft click, and he gave the top tool a final twist, causing the door to spring open. Got it! Joe thought exultantly and grinned. He faintly heard Frank moving about out in the corridor again, as he shoved the tools into his pocked and opened the locker to see inside. 

The first thing he saw was a black jacket hanging to one side. Immediately, Joe remembered the dark coat the suspect was wearing at Hurd Applegate’s bayside house. He lifted it from its hook and checked the pockets – nothing there. He began to run his hands over the outside to see if there was anything trapped within the lining. Although he found nothing hidden, his hands did detect a mysterious rough texture that was adhering to the fabric of the jacket. Joe moved to a better-lit area of the locker room, carrying the coat with him, and examined it carefully. He realized the rough areas were patches of mud – mud patches that could have been acquired during the struggle with Frank in the woods! Joe’s heart started thudding with barely contained excitement.   

Returning the jacket to its hook, Joe next concentrated on the floor of the cabinet where a pair of black boots lay. He immediately turned one over and found, yet again, mud, and this time, leaves – the same variety of foliage Frank had been scraping off the heels of his shoes, the day after the attack.

As he lifted the second boot, his hand came into contact with something soft that had been shoved down inside. Pulling it out, he saw it was a black mask; the same type of mask the intruder had been wearing at the Applegate property. All right! All I need to find now is Frank’s car keys, and we’ve got him! Joe thought in exultation. 

He stood upright again and looked up into the overhead compartment. It was so dark up there that he couldn’t see anything, even when standing on tiptoe. He reached his hands in and felt about, patting the shelf and the locker walls. His fingertips brushed against something that had been shoved far back into the furthest corner. Drawing it forwards, he tested its weight before lifting it all the way out.

Upon removal, he saw it was a red, bracket-lidded, tin box with a padlocked clasp. Joe backed out and placed it on the floor at the foot of the locker, and then brought his lock picks into play again. The box was easily unlocked, and he carefully eased the hinged lid up. Offering themselves up to his sight was a strange, eclectic collection of items – cuff links, a passport, an expensive looking pen…a ladies’ scarf, a set of car keys – a set of car keys! Joe fished in his pocket for a pen, and slid it into the ring to lift them. Yep, they’re Frank’s keys all right.

Further search revealed his father’s gloves, a little red teddy bear, and a photo-frame, which upon closer examination proved to hold a picture of Hurd Applegate’s late sister, Adelia. Obviously, the items he couldn’t identify the source of must have been collected from previous victims and detectives. Joe began to chuckle.  

The younger Hardy brother heard the swing door open behind him. Frank must have heard me laughing, and decided to come in.

Standing up, Joe said enthusiastically: "Bingo! Frank, we’ve got this guy dead to ri…" 

He didn’t get any further. As he turned, he found himself staring up into the face of a tall, well-built stranger who was standing so close, he could feel and smell the man’s sweet breath on his skin. The stranger was positively looming above him, looking back down at him, his eyes dark, cold, forbidding and unblinking – quite unlike Frank’s own warm, chocolate-brown orbs – his face expressionless, looking straight through him to the core of his being. Although not physically as tall as Kiwi, this man somehow gave the impression of being giant-like in comparison.  

Joe felt himself go stone-cold.