Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

The Hardy boys had inched back and were peering around the corner of the building that housed the diner, so as not to be seen. But as soon as the door had shut behind the cloaked figure, they hurried into the alley after the colored man who had started to walk away in the other direction.

"Wait a minute, sir!" Joe called, as they approached him.

The man turned and looked at them fearfully. The boys could see the whites of his eyes.

"Did you jest come out o' that building to bother me some more?" he asked in bewilderment. "I done told your boss I was leavin'!"

"No, we haven't been inside the warehouse, mister," Frank replied. "But we'd like to ask you a couple questions about it."

"Right," Joe nodded his head eagerly in agreement. "We saw that crazy coot in the cloak and hat rough you up and throw you out. Are you okay?"

"I be doin' all right, son. Thanks for askin'. He didn't hurt me, but he sure is a big fellow, eh?"

"I'll say," Frank agreed. "What the heck are they doing in that building?"

The Negro looked warily back up the alley, then said, "I sure don't want to talk about it here. Let's we go down to the next street, boys. I'm scared o' them people in there!"

Frank and Joe agreed and walked with the man to the end of the alley. They turned onto the sidewalk and stopped in front of a storefront a little ways down from the warehouse. Frank could tell the man was frightened.

"Why was that fellow so mean to you?" he asked. "You sure don't look like the kind of person who would do anything wrong."

The man shook his head sadly. "I was jest doin' my job. They hired me a few days ago to do the cleanin'. Then they started complainin' right away that I was lookin' around too much while I was workin'. Well, I had to look things over first before I could clean up, no?"

"Why sure," Joe agreed. "Especially in a place that big. What do they have going on in there? Must be something fishy if they think you were snooping."

The colored man nervously looked up at the top floors of the building. "Most of it isn't in use, boys, jest the top two floors. There's a few offices, meeting rooms, and a big ol' auditorium that looks somethin' like a temple."

"A temple?" Frank repeated in surprise.

"Uh huh. They call it the Inner Sanctum and told me never to be tellin' anybody about it. Well, who'm I goin' to be tellin', eh?" the man asked. "They practice some strange kind o' religion, they do. But I don't think anybody'd be carin' much about it. I'm jest an ol' man who needs a job, not a tattler."

"We're sorry you lost your job," Joe remarked. "Did he pay you the wages he owed you?"

The man nodded his head. "Right jest before he threw me out. I'd heard a strange noise down on the third floor earlier, like a cry. I thought maybe some bats got in last night, or birds, 'cause there's a couple broken windows along the fire escapes. So I went down to look around. One o' the other members found me lookin' around down there and complained to the boss, who'd jest come back from bein' away out o' town. Acted like I was sneakin' around or somethin'. Ain't nothin' but lots o' empty ol' rooms in there!"

Frank and Joe looked at each other and shared mystified expressions.

"They sure are a queer outfit," Frank said. "It's a tough break to lose your job, but in the long run you're probably better off not being involved with those people."

"You're right about that, son," the fellow returned. "Guess I'll jest have to find me another job. There's always lots o' work around town for those willin' to do it."

"Good luck," Joe told him. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay after the way that ruffian pushed you around."

The man tipped his cap to the boys and gave them a smile of gratitude. "Well, you are very nice lads , yes indeed, to take an interest in an ol' fellow like me. Good day, boys."

Frank and Joe said goodbye and watched the old Negro walk down the street in the bleak overcast afternoon light.

"Sure sounds like the Mysterians' hideout to me," Frank opined, looking back at the hulking warehouse. "I wonder why they got upset when he was looking around on the third floor?"

"They must be hiding something up there. Or, maybe someone!"

Frank's eyes widened. "You could be right! If Bobby's father was abducted, which seems likely, they could be holding him prisoner up on that third floor."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Joe's lips set in a thin hard line. "He may have been crying for help. That could be the noise the colored man heard."

Frank looked back up to the grimy windows of the upper floors. "We have to get into that warehouse!"

"We can probably get in through one of the broken windows on the third floor." Joe peered back into the alley. "The windows are right along the fire escapes on the alley side. Should be easy."

"But we'll have to wait until it gets dark," Frank warned. "Otherwise it'd be too risky."

Joe's nerves were tingling at the thought of the adventure that lay ahead. "Then what say we first get something to eat, then call Mother, then wait in the reading room of the library for darkness to fall?"

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Frank grinned. "And I especially like that it starts with food. I'm hungry! Then when we're good and ready later on to sneak into the warehouse, Question Mark and his Mysterians won't have a Chinaman's chance of getting away!"

The boys ate a late lunch in the diner at the opposite end of the alley on Broome Street , then walked back to Washington Square to search for a telephone exchange at which to call home. They located one in a small exclusive hotel on lower Fifth Avenue . The switchboard operator, an attractive and friendly young woman, put through the long distance call to Bayport.

"For goodness sake!" Laura Hardy exclaimed when she heard her son Frank's voice over the wire. "Where are you boys? We've been awaiting your return all afternoon."

"Something came up, Mother," Frank said, trying to break the news lightly. "We happened upon Question Mark down by the harbor. You know, that cult leader who broke into our house last night. So we followed him to his hideout, just the place Dad's been looking for!"

Frank heard his mother sigh wearily. "And where, may I ask, is its location?" she queried.

"Ahem," Frank cleared his throat. " New York City ."

" New York ! You and your brother are in New York ?"

Frank knew her shrill tone bode no good. He rolled his eyes at Joe, who was listening, with a martyred look.

"He got on a train, Mother," Frank explained. "We had to follow him. We couldn't let that dirty crook get away."

"That was a rash thing to do, Frank!" came the reply. "Good heavens! What do you intend to do next?"

He didn't dare tell her that they were planning to sneak into the warehouse later in the evening. "We're doing a stake-out on the joint. Then, at the right moment, we'll call in the authorities."

"You had better!" his mother declared. "Don't try to apprehend those criminals on your own. And make sure you stay in a nice hotel tonight, and be sure to eat! Do you have enough money?"

Frank assured her that they did. "If Dad should call, tell him that the hideout is on Broome Street, south of Houston Street , in the old warehouse across from the library reading room. Maybe we'll meet up with him there."

Mrs. Hardy groaned. "I'm beginning to agree with Aunt Gertrude. Your father should have been a goat farmer. Life would be so much easier!"

Frank's mother went on to inform him that Chief Collig had come out to the house to question little Bobby, but the boy had not gained any further knowledge of his memory. She summed things up by reminding him that tonight was New Year's Eve and that meant there would be a lot of activity in the city. Frank assured her that he and his brother would be careful and not take any unnecessary risks. Then he rang off and the boys sat down on a couch in the lobby to relax for a few minutes.

"Wow, I forgot all about tonight being New Year's Eve," Joe confessed. "Maybe we ought to get a room in this hotel. That way we'll have a base of operation. Then we can freshen up and go to the library reading room to stake out the warehouse."

"Good idea," Frank agreed. Then he began to chuckle. "Can't you just hear Aunt Gertrude carrying on when Mother tells her we're in New York ?"

Joe screwed up his face like a prune. "I sure can. She'll say, 'Well, I never! Those boys ought to be put to the switch when they get home. I never heard the likes of it, running off to New York like that, just as big as you please!'"

Frank guffawed, causing a few of the other people in the lobby to turn and look. The boys had a good long laugh, knowing Aunt Gertrude was, at the very moment, expressing her utter indignation. Still chuckling, they walked across the lobby to the registration desk. They secured a room for the night and went upstairs where they cleaned up and then rested for a while before heading back outdoors.

The roar and rush of the great city greeted them as they walked back out to Fifth Avenue . There was a tangible excitement in the air with the gaiety of New Year's Eve approaching. The boys set off back down to Broome Street as if they were hitting the trail to an exotic far-off destination or, perhaps, a secret meeting on the moon or the planet Mars. Excitement shone in their eyes and determination was set firmly on their lips.

They stopped by the Quiggles Dry Cleaners shop but it had already closed for the day. Next door, at a pharmacy, they bought candy bars to keep in their pockets for later, and two flashlights. Several minutes later, they arrived at the library reading room and entered, appreciating the warmth inside after the brisk hike in the bracing cold air. The walls inside were lined with shelves of books and there were racks of magazines, newspapers, and periodicals. Large library tables filled the big room and several men and a couple women were seated at them scrutinizing various reading materials. The large windows in front offered a direct view of the alley and warehouse across the street.

Frank picked out a couple daily newspapers and took a seat at the unoccupied table in front so that he could have an unobstructed view out the window. Joe took his time perusing the book shelves and finally picked out a volume entitled The Barmet Bay Coast, a history of pirating and Indian wars along the coast near Bayport during the early years of our country. He then plopped down next to Frank at the table.

He nudged his brother with an elbow. "Look at this volume, Frank. Barmet Bay was the scene of all kinds of pirate activity and wars between the early settlers and the Indians."

Frank chuckled quietly. "Hasn't changed much since then, eh? Still lots of smuggling, car theft, and any other kind of thievery you can think of."

"Tell a fellow about it!" Joe agreed. "Good thing you and I are there to track down all the culprits! Hey, I wonder if we're the only sleuths ever to stake out a joint from a library reading room?"

Frank considered the point. "I don't recall ever reading about it, but it sure sounds like something Sherlock Holmes might have done a time or two."

Joe nodded with a satisfied grin. "Then I guess we're in good company. All we need now is for night to fall so we can embark on our quest for the Inner Sanctum!"

The brothers sat and read, casting surreptitious glances across the street now and then as the shadows began to lengthen and dusk began to fall. There seemed to be no activity at all at the warehouse other than the pedestrians walking back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the truck docks.

The street lamps came on and darkness was quickly approaching when Frank noticed a delivery truck pull into the alley and stop by the side door. The driver clambered out and went over to the door and began to pound on it.

"Look!" Frank hissed at Joe, who was pleasantly engulfed in a passage about tribal warfare between the Seneca and Micmac Indian tribes along the coast.

Joe looked up to see the warehouse door opening and two men hurrying out to assist the truck driver. Within the next few minutes, they carried inside a variety of boxes, trays, and bottles.

"Looks like a caterer delivering food," Joe whispered. "Maybe the Mysterians are having a New Year's Eve party tonight?"

"Could be," Frank agreed. "Or maybe they're holding their strange rites. You know how cults have those weird ceremonies."

"Whatever." Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Something's up, for sure. At least we know there'll be plenty to eat in there in case we can't get back out!"

At length, the truck departed and then darkness fell completely. The other occupants of the reading room began to leave one by one until Frank and Joe were the only ones left, other than the librarian who was sitting behind a desk along the room's back wall. Some time later she came up front to tell the boys that the facility would be closing in ten minutes.

Frank checked his watch. It was almost nine o'clock. They had been sitting there for hours.

"We'd better go," he told his brother. "It's late enough. And it sure isn't going to get any darker."

The boys put their reading materials away and, while buttoning up before going outside, Frank noticed a figure stealthily begin to sneak down the alley.

"Look," he breathed, grabbing Joe's arm and pointing out the window. "Someone's there, and it looks like he's casing out the joint, too!"

"Sure does," Joe agreed, pulling on his cap.

Just then the reclusive figure stepped near a pool of light from the only outdoor light in the alley, and the boys were better able to see him. The man, dressed in an overcoat and a hat with the brim turned far down, cautiously made his way toward the warehouse door. What Frank saw made him gasp.

"Yikes!" he blurted, his jaw tightening. "That sure looks like Dad!"

Joe pulled on his gloves. "Does it ever! That's got to be him! Let's hurry and let him know we're here. Won't he ever be surprised?"

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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.