Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Dawn was approaching, but there would be no dazzling sunrise this day. Dark clouds, thick and stormy, sat heavily on the skies above him. No golden morning rays would be able to break through that.

Who can take a sunrise?

THEY could. They took his sunrise! THEY would pay.

Sunrise was always the hardest part of the day for him. Every single sunrise reminded him of the last time he saw his sister. Every sunrise reminded him of his failure, of his broken promise.

No! He was not yet a failure. And he had not yet broken his promise.

In fact, he would soon fulfill his promise…

He walked back towards the house. The wind blew and the fallen leaves swirled carelessly about his feet as he walked. He could hear their soft scratchy whispers bewailing their valueless existence as they scraped roughly against the cement pathway.

He made his way into the house and headed straight for his office. His hand reached into his breast pocket and he withdrew his iPhone. A spark of white flashed across the screen. An image began to form. It was a fairly spacious but brightly lit room. There was a number of people sleeping, sprawled in various awkward positions about the room.

He focused his attention on the one lying seemingly comfortably at the corner of the screen on a makeshift bed. His eyes narrowed. The veins at his temples began to throb.

The figure on his little iPhone screen started to move restlessly, as if in discomfort. Then the eyes opened. The figure sat up…

oooooo

Arthur Gray stirred. There was something calling to him from the edge of darkness. Gray squinted against the darkness. At first there was nothing. Then he thought he saw something, just hovering quietly right at the dark edges of his mind. He could not be sure. Something moved from the shadows. He could feel the terror coming at him in waves, radiating outwards from the heart of darkness in front of him.

Gray turned and ran, his heart racing madly. He ran faster and faster and his heart sped up too. It was beating so fast it was as if the heart was not beating at all.

His heart burst. No, his heart did not burst. It just felt that way.

His eyes opened and Gray sat up.

Gray took a sweeping look at the room about him. He could see a number of people sleeping sprawled about in various uncomfortable positions around the room. Then his eyes fell on the items on the mahogany table.

Something clicked at the back of his mind. He got off his makeshift bed and moved towards the table. He could see the assembled jigsaw puzzle before him. He stared at it for a moment.

And he knew.

He started to giggle.

It started off softly, like the merest whisper. Soon, his shoulders were shuddering, as if from suppressed mirth. Then a squeak of a sharp wailing laugh escaped his lips.

He was The Thirteen.

A haunting tune started to fill the room. The Thirteen tilted his head and acknowledged the horned gramophone. The black licorice disc started to spin a little faster. The music grew just a fraction louder. The Thirteen hummed along with the good old gramophone. Every now and then, a painful giggle could be heard above the hum of that sweet melody.

Slowly but surely, he collected the various items from the laboratory corner of the room. How he knew what to get was irrelevant. How he knew what he was going to do was also irrelevant.

After he collected all the necessary items, he returned to the table and got down to work. He sang, hummed, and giggled as he worked.

oooooo

It was the music that woke him.

Or was it the giggle?

Fenton was trying to wake up but the chains of sleep kept him prisoner. He was tired. He could feel sweat on his back and his heart beating a little faster than normal. His over-stressed mind registered a song playing in the background. He felt anger rising. No, it was more than anger. He shivered, and then cursed at his own uncontrollable reaction to that song. It was fear and fury combined. He hated that song. It gave him the chills even though he could never rationalize why.

Whoever was humming that tune would be getting it from him! Fenton swore as he struggled to free himself from the chains of sleep. He opened his eyes…

A movement on the edge of his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head and was surprised to see Arthur Gray on the move about the room, humming that hated tune as he went.

That was strange, Fenton thought. Gray had been totally unresponsive ever since seeing that glass container with the thirteen candies within. Not that it made much of a difference; Gray was already close to catatonic after seeing that lollipop and recalling that he killed the other twelve. Fenton wondered if they would ever know what really happened. He wondered if Gray would ever recover enough to tell them.

Now Gray was moving about the room. Fenton noted that something was not quite right about the way he moved. It was jerky, almost as if he was a marionette. For some reason, Fenton felt that if he focused hard enough, he could almost see the invisible strings being pulled and jerked as Gray danced across the room. Fenton felt a shiver of fear ran through him.

And Gray was humming that darned song. Fenton could not suppress another shiver working its way up his spine. But he continued to watch Gray.

Fenton realized by now everyone in the room was awake and watching Gray with him. He placed his finger to his lips and indicated that they should observe in silence. Everyone agreed. They slowly moved towards the table to get a clearer view of what was happening.

Gray did not seem to notice them as he worked to dismantle the assembled jigsaw and proceed to reassemble the pieces. Perhaps Gray did not care. As far as Fenton could see, the new assembly made no sense either.

Suddenly, Gray started to sing out loud as he worked.

Who can take a sunrise?

Gray turned a powerful spotlight on the reassembled jigsaw.

Sprinkle it with dew.

Gray sprayed some clear liquid on the reassembled jigsaw. Fenton watched amazed as the lines began to blur and shift.

Cover it with chocolate,

Gray placed two sheets of brown paper on top of the reassembled puzzle and gently patted it down onto the candied jigsaw.

A miracle or two…

Gray removed the two sheets of paper with the new map imprinted on the papers, and handed them both to Fenton.

Was it specifically for him? Fenton wondered. Or was it merely because he was nearest to Gray? The latter, Fenton finally decided. The alternative was just too unnatural for him to contemplate at the moment.

Suddenly Gray stopped singing. The silence that followed was deafening. All the detectives in the room gave Gray their full attention. But Gray merely stared blankly ahead.

“Gray?” Fenton finally asked in a tentative tone. “Are you all right?”

He did not want to shock Gray back into unresponsiveness if he could help it. There were so many questions that needed to be asked, the most recent being, how did Gray know what to do to get this map? And what was this map all about?

Gray continued to stare blankly ahead. It was almost as if his task was done and he shut down again.

The detectives glanced at each other, hoping someone would have an idea of what to do next. But no one did. Fenton took a quick look at the maps in his hand. They still made no sense to him. When he next looked up, he saw Madeline slowly leading Gray back to the bed, while still trying to get him to respond.

“I was The Thirteen,” Gray suddenly said, shocking everyone. “The Thirteen was the scapegoat amongst all scapegoats. He shouldered the sins of all traitors. The Thirteen was the Judas of all Judases. He led the lambs to the sacrificial altar so the others could live.”

Again the detectives exchanged looks with one another. They had no idea what that statement meant.

Suddenly Fenton gasped. Was Gray implicated in the kidnapping of all their children? He could hear several indrawn breaths and knew some of the others reached the same conclusion as he. He felt a sense of dread rising – and fear for his sons’ lives and sanity.

Gray was a trained agent. One of the best produced by the government. The implications on what that might mean for his sons were unthinkable.

“Thirteen new lambs and Judases have been chosen, as has The Thirteen.” Gray continued, still staring blankly ahead.

Fenton could see some of the detectives had their fists clenched so tightly they were white and trembling. He was glad they did not give in to the baser impulse of simply grabbing Gray and shaking the answers out of him. Gray was clearly the victim here.

They waited. There was more to come. They knew. They just knew.

“If you wish to see your children alive, come together and come alone,” Gray said.

Together and alone? The detectives exchanged puzzled glances.

Gray turned his eyes to the digital clock on the wall.

“The time now is 7:55 a.m.” Gray said. “Synchronize your watches. At 7:58 a.m. the cameras outside this room will be turned away, and you can make your way straight down the corridor towards the emergency exit without being recorded. At 8:02 a.m. sharp, the cameras in the emergency stairwell will be disabled for three minutes. At 8:04 a.m. sharp, the cameras in the corridor on the ground floor will be disabled for four minutes and you will take the right turn and head towards room G108. At 8:07 a.m. the door to room G108 will be unlocked and the cameras within disabled for 10 minutes. Close and lock the room behind you. At 8:09 a.m. the window alarms will be disabled. There will be a glass cutter by the window. There will be two cars in the alley beyond that window with further instructions.”

The moment Gray finished his lines, his eyes closed and he collapsed onto the floor in an ungraceful heap. Gray was not the only one. To Fenton’s horror, Sam Radley also collapsed. Fenton let out a cry as he reached out towards Sam and managed to break his friend’s fall. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief as he felt the pulse beating strongly and confirmed that Sam was breathing fine. But he could not revive his partner despite going through everything he knew from his advanced first aid course.

What just happened? Fenton wondered but his mind drew a blank. Then he felt a feminine hand pulling him towards the door.

“Come on Fenton,” Madeline gritted out. “We have less than a minute...”

“Sam will be fine,” Mathew tried to reassure Fenton as he synchronized his watch. “It’s the eight of us he wants, and we better move if we are to make the schedule.”

Fenton gave his partner one last look before moving towards the door, tuning his watch as he moved.

“Sorry Sam,” Fenton whispered a little guiltily. “I hope you understand, buddy.”

He folded the map Gray had given him and secured it in his pocket and then he waited for Mathew’s signal. At 7:58 a.m. sharp, Mathew opened the door and the eight detectives made their way swiftly and professionally down the corridor as instructed.

They met no one along the way. The FBI building was unusually quiet, even for this early hour in the morning. It made Fenton feels like hollering out a word or two just to see if someone, anyone, would come running. He did not, of course. His sons’ lives were at stake here. There was no one to watch them make their way down the corridor and then rush down four floors to the ground floor. At 8:04 a.m. they opened the door and headed towards room G108.

Kids… With the exception of Joe, every other ‘kid’ was a legal adult, Fenton mused as he followed Mathew. Mathew was the oldest among them, and currently the de facto leader.

The grim expressions on each of the eight detectives’ faces hid their shared terror [each felt]. They knew there was something unnatural about the whole situation. Instead, they focused on finding their children. Five of them were also seeking their wives. All eight of them were alone now, their families stripped from them. They knew they were walking into a trap, but what choice did they have?

They had no choice. None at all….

oooooo

Two cars rushed out of the little alley behind the FBI building and soon disappeared into the busy morning traffic.

In the distance, a flash of lightning streaked across the darkened sky. A moment later, a rumble of thunder followed.

The horned gramophone on the mahogany table started to play again, but its music went unheard and unnoticed.

Who can take the sunrise?

The black licorice disc spun faster and faster and the rest of the song became for a while, gibberish.

And then:

The Candyman,

Oh the Candyman can…

Maniacal laughter emanated from the horn.

A second later, a small explosion could be heard coming from one of the upper floors of the FBI building. Two windows on the fourth floor shattered and dark smoke came pouring out.

The fire alarm started to screech and a small crowd gathered in the streets below.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.