Deja Vu

Saturday 12.30pm

Frank Hardy sat alone in the same dim corner he had spent the night. His left wrist was securely handcuffed to a metal stanchion he had not been able to budge. With his right hand he had been able to drink the water and eat some of the fruit his captor had provided him with. Except that he was sitting on the hard floor instead of a bed, and he wasn’t handcuffed to Vanessa, this was a little too much like déjà vu for his liking!

He thought back again to the moment of his capture. One minute he was helping an elderly man to negotiate the steps into his apartment. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, Winston Carter had dropped his cane, grown in height, thrust a gun into Frank’s back, and practically dragged him through the apartment to the back door. From there, Frank was manhandled outside and pushed into the boot of a waiting car.

The next time Frank had seen daylight and taken a gulp of fresh air, Carson T. Winter had smugly introduced himself and led Frank briskly into the vacant office space. Frank had to admit that Carson had been very polite and considerate – well, apart from kidnapping him in the first place! Carson had removed his disguise in front of Frank with much pride. Off came the grey wig to reveal brown, close-cropped hair. The glasses were discarded, and the limp was dispensed with altogether. Frank had said nothing, but Carson had given him water, some crackers, a pillow, and a bucket in case he needed it. And then he had left, telling Frank there was no pint in yelling for help as the whole block was deserted.

After Frank had heard the car drive away, he had shouted for help. In fact he had shouted so much, his throat had hurt. But no-one had come to his rescue. And Carson T. Winter had not returned.

Until now.

 

A key turning in the lock announced Carson ’s arrival. Closing the door behind him, the tall, strongly-built man smiled at the young man in the corner.

‘Sleep well?’ he enquired. ‘I hope you weren’t too cold.’ Frank maintained his silence. It was the only thing he had to use against this man who had tricked his whole family into feeling sorry for him.

Carson removed a small key from his pocket and approached Frank. He was amused by the boy’s silence but not totally surprised by it. Frank was definitely the more cool-headed one!

‘You’re going to have a slight change of scenery,’ Carson told him. ‘One false move and I’ll crush you like a bug.’

Believing him, having already been overpowered by the man once, Frank complied. Soon, both Frank’s hands were cuffed in front of him. The cuffs were then attached to a metal ring bolted to the floor near the centre of the room. Kneeling or lying down were really the only two options. Frank chose to kneel.

‘Excellent!’ exclaimed Carson , grabbing a chair and sitting in front of Frank. ‘A much more appropriate way to greet our visitor!’

Frank felt a chill run up his spine. Did Carson have an accomplice? Was someone coming to help rough him up? He swallowed nervously.

‘Now, Frank,’ began Carson . ‘Before our visitor arrives, I’m interested in your point of view. Indulge me and answer this: What would your brother do to save you? To prove his loyalty to you? Mmmm?’

Frank shifted uncomfortably on his knees.

‘He doesn’t have to prove anything,’ Frank heard himself saying.

‘Why do you say that?’ persisted Carson , enjoying the fact that Frank was participating.

‘What has this got to do with anything?’ asked Frank, his voice slightly raised. He was becoming very uncomfortable.

‘Some brothers are prepared to do anything for each other,’ said Carson . ‘Take John and me, for example. I just can’t tolerate the idea that you and your family have been living happily ever after while John is locked up like an animal. You have no idea how much effort I’ve expended fiddling with brake cables, visiting petrol stations, and arranging mock graves. Not to mention leaving all those messages for people to find. Not everyone would do all that for their brother. But I’ve done it for John. I doubt Joe would do all that to get you out of here.’

Frank had decided months ago that John Winter was warped. He now put Carson into the same category. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

‘But this is not a jail, and I am not a murderer,’ said Frank.

Carson leaned closer. His smile had disappeared. Frank could feel the man’s breath on his face.

‘John isn’t a murderer either,’ Carson told him. ‘But I am.’

Frank sat back on his feet in astonishment.

‘It’s true,’ barked Carson . ‘My big brother was found guilty of murder and put in that stinking jail, and he’s never killed anyone. Not a single person. I know that for a fact. I killed those three hikers in the forest. I also killed Ms. Smith and buried her in her own back garden.’

Frank stared at the man in horrified fascination.

‘Everything was fine until you and your brother and your friends lured John into a trap and got him locked up. Well I’m not going to sit back and let that go!’

‘But if you were truly loyal to John, you would have owned up,’ said Frank, incredulously.

‘That’s not the point!’ snapped Carson . ‘The point is, it was your brother who ruined everything and has made me suffer as a result.’

Carson took out his phone.

‘I’ll make a bet with you Frank,’ he said. ‘I bet you anything that there are some things little Joey won’t do to save your life. And that will prove that my loyalty to John is greater that his to you. Now, please excuse me while I make this little phone call to him, and then I’ll explain to you a little of what I have in mind.’

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.