The Hardy Boys Casefiles : Dead on Target

Chapter 3

JOE'S FACE TURNED pale, then brick red. "Are you accusing us . . . ?" He was so angry his voicechoked off. 

Butler looked him straight in the eye. "Did you really think I'd fall for that ridiculous mad bomberstory? Nobody would waste a bomb on a pair of punk kids. But punk kids playing with the wrong toysmight blow themselves up. Especially kids who get involved in politics."

 "If you're trying to make us look like a pair of political crazies, maybe you should talk to ChiefCollig." Frank's voice was quiet but icy. "We've worked on cases for him. He knows us."

 "Oh, sure. I heard this song all the time in New York." Butler's lips started to twist into a sneer; thenthe poker face slid on, almost as if it hurt him to show any expression. "Human slime with importantfriends to cover for them. Even if they're caught red-handed, there're always people to say, 'Oh,Inspector, they're really good boys.' That does not impress me."

 Joe's rage finally found a voice. "You do a real terrifying tough cop. Where do you get those lines?Watching 'Kojak' reruns?" 

For a moment, Butler gave him a blank, almost startled stare. "Never mind where I get my 'lines,' "hesnapped. "Just remember this. I hear you two go around playing junior detectives. Well, don't get inmy way. You're my prime suspects right now."

 "If I catch either of you muddying up the waters, I'll arrest you for impeding an investigation. I'll do itso fast your heads will spin. And it won't do any good to go whining to your important friends to bailyou out."

 The corners of Butler's mouth went up two millimeters in the faintest of smiles. "I'm sure I'll havequestions for you as I go on . . . lots of questions. And it goes without saying-don't leave town."

 He turned back to the papers on his desk, as if the Hardys had disappeared. 

Joe followed his brother through the office door, slamming it behind him. "That miserable - " He bitoff the rest of what he was going to say. "Well, I can see that the cops are gonna be a lot of help!" Heglared at Frank. "So what's our next brilliant move?"

 "We borrow a car and head for the mall." Only Frank's eyes showed his anger. "But that guy just said- " "I know," Frank interrupted with a grin. "And I can't think of a better place to start impeding hisinvestigation. "

 Joe insisted that they check out the parking lot, even though it had been cleared of wreckage. "There'snothing," Frank said, looking at the large scorched spot on the concrete.

 "Then why are we here?"

 "We want to see if anyone remembers anything odd about Saturday - anything out of the ordinary."

 "Out of the ordinary!" Joe burst out. "There was a political rally going on! How much more out of theordinary do you want? Besides," he said, "the Saturday shoppers are long gone. How are we going toquestion them?" 

"We're not," Frank replied. "I want to talk to the people who are always here - the store owners.They'd be the ones to notice something-or someone-out of place."

 Their first stop on entering the mall was Mr. Pizza. The fast-food joint was the prime hangout, and themanager was an old school friend of theirs, Tony Prito.

 Tony's cheerful grin wavered for an instant when he saw the Hardys. He stepped out from behind thecounter, grabbing Joe's hand. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you at the chapel," he said as he led themto a table and they sat down. "Have they caught whoever was behind it?"

 "I don't think the cops even have a clue." Joe scowled. 

"It's hard to figure out who blew up the car if you don't know why," Frank said. 

"Well, it was your car," Tony pointed out.

 "Right. But was the bomb aimed at us?" Frank shook his head. "That's the question. For all we know,it could have been a random thing, some nut who just blows up yellow sedans."

 "Yeah, but there are a lot of guys who might want to get back at you - or your father." Tony smiled."Detectives who put people away aren't popular with crooks."

 "I got Dad's assistant working on that angle this morning," Frank said. "He's checking to see if anyonewho might have a grudge against us, was recently released."

 "Wait a second," Joe burst out. "Maybe the bomber knew that Iola and Callie were with us. Maybe he- or she - had a grudge against the Mortons or the Shaws."

 He thought for a moment. "And the bomb was set in the middle of a political rally. Could the personhave something against the Walker campaign?" He shook his head. "But Frank and I didn't even knowthere was going to be a rally.

 We didn't know we were going to be at the mall. This doesn't make sense."

 "Tell me about it," Frank agreed sarcastically. "Here's the thing I can't figure out-why the mall? If Iwere going to blow somebody up, I'd do it right in front of the person's house - a nice, unmistakablemessage. Why would this guy follow us to a crowded parking lot to do the job? It's got to havesomething to do with the mall." He looked up at Tony. "Were the cops around asking questions?"

 "They gave us the once-over lightly. I was kind of surprised." Tony shrugged. "Maybe they'll be backtoday." 

"Well, we want to ask some questions now," Joe said, leaning over the table. "Think you can give usa hand, Tony? Introduce us to some of the store owners?" 

"Sure. Most of them come down here to get a slice for lunch. Hey, Jean," he called to the girl behindthe counter, "I'm taking an early break. Be back in five minutes." 

Tony led the Hardys up the mall escalators to the first floor of shops, then into the Builder's Paradisehardware store. "Dan Stone runs this place. He's a good guy, and he's president of the MallAssociation. You can get all the help you need from him."

 Stone turned out to be a friendly man in his late thirties. He was only too eager to help, and theHardys spent most of the next two hours talking to store owners. None of them had noticed anythingother than the bedlam of the political rally, but lots of them had things to say about the mall. Frankmentioned it as they took a shortcut to their car through Lacey's department store.

 "Did you notice how many of those people complained about the security?" Frank stopped beside amannequin in a low-cut gown to pull out his notebook.

 "Do we have to stop here? It looks like you're trying to get that dummy's phone number," Joe said.

 Frank paid no attention. "Every store owner we spoke to says he or she is being ripped off. Look atthis list. Hundreds of feet of wire missing from the Audio-Video Den. Electric clocks disappearingfrom the Gift Shoppe. Mr. Stone losing wire clippers, electrical supplies ... " Frank suddenly wentsilent. "That's all stuff you'd need to build bombs." 

Joe stopped dead in his tracks. As he turned to his brother, he felt a tiny tug on the sleeve of hisjacket. A flash of movement caught his eye, a glittering something that cut through his jacket, whizzedpast him, and stuck with a dull thud in the mannequin's plaster "flesh."

 His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the silvery dart quivering in the dummy's chest. "It toreright through - "

 Frank grabbed his arm. "Let's get out of here before they try another shot!"

 Joe followed his brother, looking over his shoulder at the people around them. A typical mall crowd,hundreds of shoppers clogging the aisles - except that one of those "shoppers" was trying to kill them!