Frank, although he would have rather taken the van, decided not to press the issue. He accompanied Fogle to his cruiser and got into the passenger seat, then fastened his safety belt; and the officer started the engine and pulled into traffic.

"How long have you and your brother been solving mysteries?" Fogle inquired, after a silent moment or two.

"We started doing legwork for dad about two years ago." Frank answered. "How long have you been on the force?"

"I transferred to Nashville about three months ago," Fogle replied. "Before that, I was an officer with the Wake Forest University's police force."

"So, you aren't a local either," Frank observed.

"I was born and raised right here in Nashville." Fogle smiled at Frank’s evident surprise. "But I attended college in New York."

"New York is a long way from North Carolina." Frank commented, knowing that was where Wake Forest was located. "You’ve traveled around some."

"When I was in New York, I decided to become a cop. After I’d been one there for a while, I wanted to move closer to home. Wake Forest was the closest place with an opening after I finished at the police academy." Fogle explained.

"You know, there’s something I’ve often wondered about, Frank. How did your Dad do everything he did, and managed to become so successful, at his age?" the policeman went on.

"What do you mean?" Frank asked for clarification. It didn’t seem to him that his father had been all that unusual in his career moves.

"Well, he went to college, the police academy, became a cop and is now a private investigator—" Fogle began.

"That's right." Frank admitted, wondering where all this was going.

"What I don't get is when he had time to be a Green Beret in the army—or was it the marines?"

Frank raised his eyebrows at this remark. "Where did you hear that?"

"I met Hugh Hunt about a year ago," Fogle said. "He said he had served with your dad."

"Oh, Uncle Hugh!" Light dawned in Frank’s mind. Although Hugh Hunt wasn’t actually the boys’ uncle, they had called him that for years. "Dad dropped out of college to join the army." Frank explained. "He did a three year stint and went to the police academy on his release."

"So he never finished college?" Fogle asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

"No," Frank affirmed. "Is that so surprising?" he asked. "College isn't a prerequisite."

"No, of course it isn’t. I didn’t mean to imply anything negative. " Fogle quickly agreed. "I've just met so many people who said they attended college with your father, that’s all. So it struck me as odd that he hadn’t graduated."

"You, uh..." Frank tried hard to think of a way to express his query. "You're a follower of my father's career?"

"You could say that." Fogle agreed. He pulled into a parking space in front of the police station, and turned off the motor, but made no move to get out of the car. Instead, he continued the conversation. "Actually, your dad is the reason I became a cop."

"Oh?" This time it was Frank's turn to be surprised. "How so?"

"My dad was killed in a shoot-out when I was a teenager." Fogle confessed. "Fenton Hardy was in charge of the investigation. I decided then to follow in your dad's footsteps."

"But my dad was never a cop in Nashville," Frank said, baffled. "How could he have been in charge of an investigation here?"

"We were vacationing in New York at the time." Fogle admitted. "I’ve never been too fond of New York after that—I guess that’s another reason I wanted to come back down South."

Frank decided to change the subject. "Who is your prime suspect in this case, Sergeant Fogle?" he asked.

"That meeting cuts down on the suspects," the officer admitted. "Since everyone with a motive we know of was at the meeting, it's a fairly safe bet the killer was hired help."

"Tremaine probably has a lot of enemies," Frank pointed out. "The killer could have nothing to do with the art show at all."

"That's a possibility," Fogle conceded. "But it's highly doubtful." he continued. "Personally, I think Parker is behind the murder."

"Daniels’ brother-in-law?" Frank exclaimed. "Why him?"

"He set the art show up. He knew where everyone would be last night, so was able to plan his alibi. And he had the authority to have Tremaine not attend the meeting." Fogle explained his reasoning.

"Mr. Tremaine could have skipped the meeting on his own because he was meeting someone." Frank observed. "But I do agree with you on one thing," he continued. "The killer probably was someone hired to do the job." He unfastened his seat belt and reached for the door handle. "Why don’t I take a look at those mug shots, since that’s what I came here for?"

Joe and his classmates arrived back at the hotel at five p.m. They entered the lobby in a large, chattering group, talking excitedly about the things they had seen and done that day.

"Remember, we are meeting in the lobby at eight o’clock tomorrow morning." Mr. Freemont reminded his students. "Have breakfast before, and be prepared to leave by 8:15, to go to the Parthenon."

"I thought we weren't going there until Friday." Joe commented, surprised at this change in plan. There were curious murmurs from some of the other students too.

"We're attending the art show there on Friday." Mr. Freemont informed him. "The show is open to the public, but admission was limited. I managed to procure tickets for our class, but we have a limited amount of time there on Friday. Since the Parthenon houses several galleries, I thought we should allow some time to view those as well. The administrator is a friend of mine and he is giving us a private tour tomorrow."

"Cool!" Joe smiled at Mr. Freemont before walking away.

"Hey, Joe!" Dark-haired, green-eyed Curt Preston, one of Joe’s classmates, shouted after him. "We're heading out to get some grub. Want to join us?"

"Nah, I'm waiting for Frank. But thanks anyway." Joe declined with a wave, heading toward the elevator.

When Joe reached the third floor, he saw Frank standing in the hall next to their room. He was just taking the card key to their room from his wallet. When Joe whistled, he turned and grinned a welcome at his younger brother.

"Well?" Joe demanded, reaching Frank as he reached for the knob. "What have you found out? What did you do today?"

"I'll tell you all about everything over dinner." Frank promised. He glanced over his shoulder at Joe as he pushed open the door and started to enter the room.