HDA - Spring Break by the Syndicate Chapter 18

Just slightly late for their dinner date, Frank and Joe walked into Franklin’s and gave Sergeant Fogle’s name to the smiling hostess. She nodded and led them to a table where Fogle sat impatiently drumming his fingers on the table top. He looked irritated at their tardiness, but managed a smile as the boys approached, and got to his feet to greet them.

"Sorry," Frank apologized immediately. "We got caught in traffic; I thought we left the hotel in plenty of time."

"I suppose Nashville traffic might be confusing for you, at that." Fogle commented, as they sat down.

Joe bristled slightly at this snide remark. You’re making it sound like Frank’s never driven anywhere other than Bayport! He thought, but managed to keep his reaction to himself. Frank took the slight coolly, making no response.

A waiter approached and filled their water glasses, then distributed menus. Conversation ceased momentarily, as the three perused the list of selections. Fogle decided on lobster, Joe opted for baby flounder, and Frank declared that Trout Almandine was exactly what he had in mind. When they had ordered, and the waiter had gone his way, Fogle leaned back in his chair and smiled at Joe.

"I have a surprise for you." he announced.

"A surprise?" Joe repeated, wonderingly. "What sort of surprise?"

"Something has been added to the art exhibit tomorrow. A television crew is going to be filming there, and the exhibit will be broadcast live, via satellite."

The boys exchanged glances. "The money giveaway, too?" Joe asked, shocked.

"No, no—" Fogle hastened to assure him. "That part will be private, of course; although I understand that interviews with the recipients will be part of the media presentation." Fogle smiled again. "You should call your father, and tell him you’re going to be on TV. He might like to watch. Station WCAB, based right here in Nashville. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to miss this!"

"When was it decided the media would be there?" Frank asked sharply.

"It was suggested three weeks ago, but it was only approved by Mackenzie Daniels this week." Fogle told him. "It’s supposed to be very hush-hush."

"Then why are you telling us, if it’s supposed to be a secret?" Frank demanded.

"As a courtesy, Frank." Fogle sounded hurt. "If it were my son on television, I’d want to know about it ahead of time, so that I could tape it."

"Just because it’s being filmed doesn’t mean I’ll be on TV." Joe pointed out.

"I’m sure you will." The sergeant assured him. "They’re going to film the entire thing, so chances are very good that you’ll be included in some of the footage." He looked at Frank. "I’m sorry you won’t be on, as well."

"Why not?" Joe cut in swiftly. "Frank’s going to be there, too. He has just as much chance of being filmed as I do."

"He will be there," Fogle admitted. "But only as added security. He won’t be allowed into the actual exhibit; he’ll be behind the scenes."

Joe looked across the table at his brother, apologetically. "I forgot – you had to have tickets in advance. Mr. Freemont got ours at the beginning of the week." he said. "I’m sorry." He had a feeling that Fogle could have gotten Frank in, had he wanted to, and he knew that their security passes would let Frank be anywhere in the museum he wished to be…but he maintained the fiction that Frank was only there on Fogle’s sufferance.

"That’s okay," Frank replied. "I’m sure I’ll be able to see a lot more from behind the scenes than if I was in your group." He was aware of Fogle’s scrutiny as he said that, and he wondered what the police sergeant was thinking. Probably thinks I’m really nosy – or really stupid! Frank thought, with an inward chuckle.

Over dinner, the three kept the conversation light, talking of the various things Joe and his class had seen and done while in Nashville. Eventually, the boys told Fogle of their experience at Wheels earlier that day, each of them wondering it possibly the double-dealing policeman would give anything away.

Fogle seemed very surprised and shocked by the news of the attack at the amusement park. He expressed considerable concern for Frank’s welfare. Joe had to focus his attention on his entrée to keep his furious glare from Fogle’s attention, and clenched his teeth to suppress his angry, sarcastic retorts to Fogle’s solicitous remarks.

Frank surveyed Fogle narrowly from beneath his eyelashes, as he ate. He’s the wrong build for that guy in the Go-Kart…but Leroy Crigger is about the right size.

*****

The Hardys returned to their hotel after dinner, feeling very little the wiser. Sergeant Fogle’s ‘big surprise’ hadn’t been all that earth-shaking, and he had shed no other light on the case. Both boys were disappointed.

"Well, at least we got a nice dinner out of it!" Joe observed, flopping onto his bed, as Frank hung his jacket in the closet. "Hey – think we should call Dad?"

Frank considered it for a while. "Yeah—" he said finally. "Maybe we should tell him what’s going on. He’s too far away to help, but maybe he can think of something that we haven’t."

Joe looked longingly at the telephone on the nightstand. He didn’t really want to trek down to the lobby once more, but he knew it was safer. "I suppose we’d better use a pay phone." he said reluctantly.

"I think we should." Frank concurred. He picked up his card-key from the dresser. "Let’s go and get it done with."

Downstairs once more, they went to the rank of pay telephones and Joe put through the call to their parents’ hotel on Oahu. In just a minute or two, he was connected to their room.

"Mom? Hi, it’s Joe." He grinned at Frank, and mouthed ‘She’s excited!’ as he listened to his mother’s response. "Yeah, it’s been a lot of fun – uh-huh, we cut the CD this morning. We’re going to an art museum tomorrow – uh-huh….How are you and dad doing? Having a good time?" He listened patiently as Laura told of their activities, making appropriately enthusiastic noises from time to time. Then, to Frank’s surprise, Joe suddenly said: "You’re right, Mom, we do want to talk to Dad – right, I won’t, I know you want to talk to Frank too….Thanks."

To Frank, Joe said quietly "All of a sudden, Mom said ‘I know you want to speak to your father.’ How’d she know that?"

Frank grinned and shook his head. "That’s Mom!" he said admiringly.

When Fenton came on the line, he and Joe briefly exchanged pleasantries, then Joe got down to business. He rapidly outlined the occurrences of the past six days, and requested Fenton’s input and assistance. Then, he turned the receiver over to Frank.

"Dad? It’s Frank, now. What do you think?"

"I think whatever’s going down will take place tomorrow." Fenton’s voice came over the wire. "And it will take place on camera. Fogle made a point of telling you that it was going to be broadcast, and of requesting that you tell me about it…that leads me to believe that he’s going to send me a message in that broadcast."

"What about the attempts to either kill or incapacitate me?" Frank asked. "Why me, and not Joe?" He chuckled at the way his question had sounded. "Sorry, little brother! I just don’t want you to feel left out!" he whispered to Joe.

"That’s a good question, son. The only answer I can come up with off the top of my head, is that having you around would spoil whatever it is that he has planned for Joe, especially since he’ll be on television and you won’t." His father replied.

"I just love being the center of attention!" Joe quipped sourly, when Frank relayed Fenton’s reply.

"You two take every precaution, no matter how trivial something seems!" Fenton warned Frank, then. "Don’t take any chances – I mean it, Frank!" His voice changed. "Hold on a minute, your mother wants to talk to you now."

After Frank hung up the phone, the boys returned to their room. Talking the case over with their father had been encouraging, but of little concrete help. However, knowing he was aware of what was going on made both Frank and Joe feel a little easier about the next day’s events.

"Joe, maybe you shouldn’t go tomorrow." Frank suggested, tentatively. Inside, he knew Joe was going to argue.

Joe didn’t disappoint him. "No way am I going to miss it!" he declared. "For one thing, it’s a required part of the trip, and part of my grade. For another, there’s no way I’m letting you go there alone, even if you aren’t going to be on TV!"

From the determined set of Joe’s jaw and the light in his blue eyes, Frank knew he wasn’t going to be able to coerce Joe into staying away from the art museum. Shrugging, he admitted defeat, and suggested they get ready for bed. Both boys were tired, and it wasn’t long before they were fast asleep.

Some time during the deepest watches of the night, Frank struggled awake, trying to take a deep breath. As he fought his way out of his slumbers, he realized that a dark figure was looming over him – a masked figure, surely the same person who had attempted to push him off the Go-Kart track….Only this time, the masked man had him by the throat, and was squeezing the life out of him!