Flesh and Blood (2 page)

"You guys know Officer Stewart, don't you?" Officer Riley asked, pointing a thumb at the young policeman standing next to him.

"Sure," Frank said, recognizing the distinctive white blond hair of Stewart. "You used to walk the beat at city hall, didn't you?"

"That's right," Stewart replied with a smile. "I'll read him his rights, Con."

Mangieri leaned against the police cruiser. "Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?" Patrolman Stewart concluded moments later.

"Yeah," Mangieri answered weakly.

"He's probably got them memorized," Joe said sarcastically.

Mangieri's black eyes flared with anger. He stared at Joe and addressed Officer Riley. "Hey, Riley, how would you like to be a hero? Save somebody's life?"

"You referring to me, punk?" Joe took a step toward Mangieri.

Officer Riley put his hand on Joe's shoulder. Joe stopped. Stewart then spun Mangieri around to cuff his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"I got some information that could get you a promotion, Riley." Mangieri swiveled his head to face Riley. "Only you got to let me go first."

"You weasel," Joe blurted out.

"What kind of information?" Officer Riley asked.

"Someone's going to get killed." Mangieri was calm.

"Don't believe him, Con," Joe said.

"You're so smart, Hardy," Mangieri said with a chuckle at Joe. He turned to Officer Riley. "Go ahead. Take me in. Why should I care if someone gets killed."

"Who?" Officer Riley asked.

Mangieri stared at Joe and said bluntly, "Fenton Hardy."

"What did you say?" Joe lurched forward and grabbed Mangieri by the front of his jacket.

Mangieri's smirk quickly melted into fear. Joe held Mangieri up so that they stood nose to nose, the short Mangieri having to stand on tiptoe.

"Listen, you punk, you'd better explain that last remark."

"Easy, Joe." Con placed a strong hand on Joe's shoulder and squeezed.

Joe reluctantly let loose of Mangieri.

"Why do you want to kill our father?" Frank's brown eyes bore into Mangieri's like drill bits.

Mangieri, his voice high-pitched, said, "That's not what I meant, man. I didn't say I was going to kill your old man. I said that I heard someone was out to off him."

"Who?" Frank asked.

Mangieri's black eyes narrowed. "You want information, Hardy? Dial four-one-one."

"You slug!" Joe jumped at Mangieri again.

"All right, Joe!" Officer Stewart shouted and pulled Joe back.

Joe jerked free and stared at Mangieri.

"He's lying," Frank said.

Mangieri tried to avoid the cold, rock-hard stares of the Hardys. He slipped into the cruiser through the door Officer Riley was holding open. "Man, how do you know I'm lying?" he shouted from inside the car.

"Your lips are moving," Joe replied without missing a beat.

Mangieri looked like a caged animal. He pressed up against the door and stared straight ahead.

Suddenly he turned his head to Joe. "Forget it, man," he said with a laugh. "I don't say nothing until I see a lawyer. Then I see what kind of a deal I can cut."

Frank looked at Riley and started to ask, "Do you think - "

"Sorry, Frank," Riley interrupted. "This is out of my hands. He's asked for his lawyer. The only thing I can do is finish processing the arrest."

"Don't you believe him about someone out to kill Mr. Hardy?" Don asked.

"That's not the point," Riley said.

"What is the point?" Joe took a step toward Officer Riley. "This creep made a threat against my dad."

Riley's face tightened into an angry expression. The police veteran straightened to his full height and returned Joe's steely stare.

"Your father's the best friend this police department has, and if someone's threatening his life, we'll take care of him." He took a deep breath, and his face relaxed. "Besides, Mangieri's been known to try to lie his way out of jail before. He's probably just bluffing." He looked at Frank. "You two take it easy until we get the truth out of him."

"Yes, sir," Frank said. He tapped Joe on the shoulder and nodded toward the van. Joe backed away from the cruiser, his eyes steady on Mangieri in the backseat.

Officer Riley slammed the back door shut, jumped into the front seat, waited for Stewart to get into the car, and pulled away from the group.

"What are you going to do?" Liz asked.

"Go to the police station to find out if Mangieri's telling the truth," Frank replied as he hopped into the van. Joe planted himself in the driver's seat.

"Call us if you need any help," Don said as he slipped an arm around Liz, and the two of them headed back to help with the tornado cleanup.

"Thanks," Joe said, his voice hard and distant.

Minutes later the boys walked into the officers' lounge of the Bayport Police Department. Frank threw himself into a chair and stared at his brother.

Con Riley was probably right, Mangieri's threat was only a lie, a diversion to get him out of jail. On the other hand, Joe had made sense: they couldn't take the chance that Mangieri was bluffing. All three Hardys - father and sons - had made plenty of enemies while investigating crimes.

"You think he's telling the truth?" They were the first words Joe had spoken since arriving at the station.

"I doubt it," Frank said with a shrug. "How would a greaseball like him get information about someone out to kill Dad?"

Joe stared straight ahead. Frank leaned back in the blue plastic chair and locked his hands behind his head. He knew Joe's anger had reached its combustion point and was now smoldering.

"We've got to let the police do their job," Frank said. Joe turned to meet his brother's hard stare with one of his own but said nothing. "Riley'll let us know if Mangieri is telling the truth or not," Frank added.

"They'd better find something out - and soon!" Joe crumpled the wrapper of the candy bar he'd been eating and tossed it into a corner wastebasket. He was tired and worried.

"Soon" stretched into a half-hour and then an hour. Joe tried several times to find out what Mangieri was telling Riley and the assistant district attorney, but all he got was a chilly warning from the desk sergeant that he and Frank would be thrown out of the police station if Joe didn't stop bothering him. He told the boys that the force was stretched thin due to the tornado. He said they should consider themselves lucky that Con was taking the time to question Mangieri then.

Frank mentally reviewed some of Fenton Hardy's most dangerous cases. Many crooks threatened the police officers who had arrested them or the district attorney who put them in jail or the private eye who tracked them down. Therefore, Frank knew that their father had received his share of threats.

"It's been two hours!" Joe all but shouted as he looked up at the clock on the wall. "You'd think they'd have found out something by now."

"We have."

Joe spun around. Officer Riley stood in the doorway, and he looked exhausted and worried. He motioned for the brothers to follow him. Frank and Joe were at his heels as he led them down the hallway past the interrogation room and into a viewing room.

"Where's Officer Stewart?" Frank asked.

"He asked for some time off," Riley said. "He's worked two straight shifts."

The viewing room looked into the interrogation room through a one-way mirror. The Hardys could see Mangieri sitting alone, smoking a cigarette, his hands uncuffed.

"What's going on?" Joe demanded. "Isn't he under arrest?"

"For now," Officer Riley replied. "How well do you two know Mangieri?" His voice sounded as exhausted as he looked.

"He was kicked out of school," Frank said. "Why?"

"Either of you ever hear of Leonard Mock?"

Frank and Joe glanced at each other and shrugged.

"Mangieri has." Riley turned and stared into the interrogation room.

"So?" Joe stepped up to the one-way mirror and stood next to Riley. "What's the big deal?"

Riley rubbed his eyes. "I was a rookie cop about the time your father resigned from the New York Police Department and started P.I. work here in Bayport. One of the first cases he helped the Bayport police solve involved a con man named Leonard Mock."

Frank's eyes suddenly lit up as he remembered why Mock's name sounded familiar. "He was selling shares in a dummy corporation that was supposed to build a theme park outside of Bayport."

"Correct," Riley said.

"But he's serving a life sentence for murder." Riley didn't reply. He only sighed. Frank shifted uncomfortably. "Isn't he?" he quietly demanded.

Riley locked eyes with Frank. "He was."

"Murder?" Joe spouted.

Riley moved to a table across the room and sat on the edge. "When the police caught on to Mock's scam, Mock went into hiding. Your father was hired by a group of the investors, and he was able to locate Mock. When we started to arrest him, Mock tried to escape, shots were fired, and my partner was killed."

"Wait a minute," Frank said, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean 'was' serving a life sentence? He's been paroled?"

"I thought the mandatory sentence for a cop killer was life without parole," Joe said.

"It is. But Mock's attorney has somehow gotten the sentence commuted, and - "

"Mock's out of prison," Frank said, finishing Riley's sentence. The police veteran nodded silently.

"This Mock creep is on the streets after killing a cop? I can't believe it!" Joe thrust his hands into his pockets. "What's that got to do with Mangieri threatening Dad?"

Riley rubbed his eyes. "Mangieri says that Mock is trying to hire a gun, someone to kill your father."

"And Mangieri's been hired to - " Joe's voice rose in anger and he was unable to finish his sentence. He headed for the viewing room door. "That creep's not going anywhere."

"It's not Mangieri!" Riley shouted as Joe threw open the door.

Joe stopped in the doorway and slowly turned around. "Who?" he asked through clenched teeth.

For the first time since he could remember, Frank thought he saw defeat on Riley's face. "We don't know."

Frank was quiet.

"What's your idea, Frank?" Riley asked, knowing Frank's silences meant he was thinking at computer speed.

"My dad's file on the case is full of letters from Mock threatening to kill him if he ever got out of prison."

"'He threatened your father in open court while Fenton was testifying against him," Riley added.

"What if Mock is spreading a rumor about hiring a hit man to lead the police in the wrong direction? What if Mock is the killer himself?" Frank reasoned out loud.

"Why would Mangieri rat on Mock?" Joe asked.

"Mangieri would sell out his grandmother if he thought it would be to his advantage," Riley replied.

"Mangieri must know where Mock is hiding out," Frank said, almost to himself.

Riley cleared his throat. He hesitated, then said, "We know where Mock is." He paused again. "Mock checked in with a parole officer two days ago."

"And no one told you?" Joe asked, his voice angry.

"Paperwork takes awhile to get around, Joe. Besides, we've all been busy today with the tornado." Riley stood. "Where's your father now?"

"In Philadelphia," Frank answered.

"Good."

"Where's Mock?" Joe asked.

Riley's eyebrows lifted in a knowing glance. "Forget it, Joe. A squad car's been sent to pick up Mock. And Chief Collig has ordered me to tell you two to stay away from Mock. We've got things under control." Riley glanced at his watch.

Frank glanced at Joe and nodded at the door. Joe returned the silent signal.

"We'll try to call our dad in Philadelphia," Frank said, heading for the door.

"Good idea," Riley said behind them.

"Yeah," Joe added. "We'll stay around the house in case Dad decides to come back early."

Frank glanced back at Officer Riley just before he stepped through the doorway. It wouldn't be the first time that he and Joe had disobeyed police orders to stay out of a case.

"Where to?" Joe asked after they had hopped into the van and pulled away from the police station.

"If Mock's been released," Frank began, "then he'd have to check into a halfway house for felons until he can find a job and get settled."

"That rehabilitation place on Fulton Street?"

"Right."

"Suppose the police have already picked him up?"

"Then we'll just look around," Frank replied with a knowing smile.

Joe nodded and stomped on the accelerator. The van lurched forward.

Minutes later Joe's enthusiasm turned into a low groan as he pulled the van up in front of what was left of the Bayport Rehabilitation Center. The freak summer tornado had torn parts of the roof off the building and demolished the left wing.

"He's definitely not here now," Frank announced, just as disappointed as Joe.

They climbed out of the van and stared at the wrecked building.

"Let's see what we can find out, anyway," Frank suggested.

They took in the street with two quick glances before running into the building. Clothes and papers and books and debris had been chucked about by the unforgiving twister's violent winds. Puddles of water stood inches deep up and down the hallway and gave the place a musky, moldy stench already.

"Smells like chemistry class," Frank said, wrinkling his nose.

Although it was early afternoon outside, it was very cloudy and the inside of the building was dark. Frank and Joe pulled out their pocket flashlights and flicked them on.

Frank pointed to his right. "You take that room, and I'll search the office - see if I can find out where Mock's room was."

Joe's reply was a quick jog across the hall and into the dark room. He moved his small flashlight around the room slowly, the shadows rising and falling like dark targets at a shooting gallery. The room was full of sheets, blankets, pillows, pillowcases, and towels, all thrown about.

"Just a storage room!" Joe yelled across the hallway as he stepped out of the room. "I'm going to check the rooms down the hall." He started off, not waiting for Frank's answer.