A Killing in the Market (5 page)

"Duck, Callie!" Frank shouted. In one quick motion he grabbed the jar and hurled the contents in the man's face.

The gunman screamed, his hands going for his eyes. Then he began coughing as the cloud of pepper got into his lungs.

"Come on, let's beat it!" Frank began coughing as the pepper got to him too. He grabbed Callie's hand. Together they sped toward the door. Frank extended his arm to push it open, just as a serious spasm of coughing hit him.

As he bent he felt something like a sudden gust of wind pass beside him. Frank knew what it was. He dove to the floor, pulling Callie with him.

And as he looked up he saw a foot-long carving knife wedged firmly in the wooden door, a foot from where he had been standing.

"Frank, watch it!" Callie shrieked, jumping to her feet.

Frank spun around, and his face blanched. The potbellied chef who had been peacefully ignoring them to cut up vegetables was now approaching them with a meat cleaver!

FOR A GUY who looked like a little old man, the chef was surprisingly agile. He leapt toward Callie, but as Frank scrambled to his feet, the man swung around in mid jump to slash at him.

Callie dove behind a worktable, and Frank backpedaled toward the door. "Hey, watch it, pal," he said. "Keep waving that around, and you'll get a nick in it — or us!"

The chef's face broke out into a gap-toothed grin as he closed in on Frank.

"Tell him to stop!" Callie shouted.

"Eric, this has gone too far!" Mrs. Simone said.

But the gunman couldn't hear; he had his head in the sink, trying to wash off the pepper.

Frank inched toward the kitchen door, remembering the knife stuck in it. The last thing he wanted was to get into a knife fight with a maniacal chef, but there didn't seem to be any alternative. .. .

The leering chef continued to slash the air with the cleaver. Frank ducked each slash. Then, with a sudden lunge, he turned and grabbed for the knife.

But his hands closed on thin air as the door was swung wide open. Before Frank could stop himself, he collided with Bayport Police Chief Collig.

"Frank! What are you doing here?" He looked at the knife embedded in the door. "Is this yours?"

"No, it's his, Chief Collig!" Frank pointed to the chef, who was now standing still, scratching his head.

"I threw it so it'd miss the kid. Just wanted to scare him," the chef said, his head down as he stared at his toes.

Chief Collig pulled the knife out of the door and shook it at the old man. "These aren't toys, you know."

Just then he caught sight of Mrs. Simone handing a towel to the tall stranger with water now streaming down his face. "Will someone tell me what is going on? I came here to meet with you and walked into a brawl. What's the matter, Clifton, you and Frank didn't like the food?"

Eric Clifton's face showed a mixture of anger and bewilderment as he toweled himself off. "You mean to tell me you know this kid?" he said.

"Sure do. Frank Hardy, a young detective." Chief Collig raised an eyebrow at Frank. "You two are in the same line of work."

"What?" Frank began.

Chief Collig laughed. "He may not look it, sopping wet, but Eric Clifton is the head of Elite Eye, the hotshot detective agency in New York City." He winked at Frank. "Who knows? If you play your cards right, maybe Mr. Clifton will offer you a job."

It all became clear to Frank. Clifton and he were doing the same thing — investigating Si-mone's murder. He felt a huge load lifted from his shoulders.

For the first time Clifton's face broke into a smile. "And I thought I was getting old and slow. I was up against two young pros!"

Callie beamed with pride.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Frank replied. "Maybe two eager amateurs." He grinned over at Callie. "Have you guys picked up any leads?"

"Well, my associate and I have been gathering information today, which seemingly points to a woman Simone had been seeing, someone named Gertrude," — he paused and gave Frank a suspicious look — "Hardy."

Frank nodded. "She's my aunt, and she'd have a hard time swatting at a moth," Frank said. "I'm in this to prove she couldn't do it."

"I hate to say it, but it'll be hard, Frank. Everything points to her."

"What about the guy who shot Simone's clerk last week in New York?" Frank asked. "I think this has to involve a bad business deal of Simone's."

Clifton frowned. "Well, there is another good possibility. A close friend of Simone's who was also his accountant — a man named Justin Spears. Lately he's been extremely hostile to Mrs. Simone. She hired me, by the way, to protect her, in case he got any ideas."

"Do those three guys in the dining room work for you?" Frank asked, putting it all together.

Clifton nodded. "Bruno, and the cook too. Simone's will still names Alexandra as his beneficiary, even though they were divorced. If Spears got rid of both of them, he's next in line to inherit all of Simone's holdings."

"Well, it looks like things are progressing," Chief Collig said with a smile. "I'll — uh, be heading back to the station house to begin my own investigation." With that he walked back through the kitchen doors.

"So, when do we visit this Spears?" Callie asked.

"Am I to assume that you two are joining forces with us?"

"You bet," Callie said, looking at Frank. "Right?"

Frank shook his head. "Not so fast, Callie. I have to talk to Joe about this. It may not — "

"No need to rush things," Clifton said. "Sleep on it." He reached into his inside jacket pocket. "Here's my card — a little soggy, thanks to you, but still legible. If you're interested, why don't you come into the city and visit me in our office tomorrow."

Frank glanced quickly at Callie to quiet her. They couldn't decide right then whether or not to accept Clifton's invitation.

"Well, we'll see. Let's go, Callie. Good to meet you," Frank said, halfway to the door. He stopped short just then and reached into his pocket. "Oops, I almost forgot," he said, pulling out the silk scarf that Callie had found. "I picked this up in the parking lot. Anybody know who it belongs to?"

"Oh, I thought I'd lost that!" Alexandra Simone exclaimed, her face brightening. "Thank you so much!"

Frank smiled in return. He'd found another suspect.

Callie followed Frank out into the parking lot. "Just as I thought," he said. "She may be in on it in some way!"

"Brilliant, Sherlock," Callie said. "I knew she killed him! Of course, I may not be qualified to judge. I'm only an eager amateur. . . ."

Frank smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Callie. Anyway, I shouldn't jump to conclusions about her just because of the scarf. Maybe she visited the cottage before Simone's death and left it there."

"Maybe," Callie replied with a shrug. "But she's the one with the motive. I mean, who knows how much she'll stand to gain from that will!"

"Well, let's just hope part of it isn't Aunt Gertrude's money. We'd better hurry — I told Joe I'd be back quick."

As he drove back to the station house, Frank thought about Clifton's offer. A connection with Elite Eye would give them information on Simone's business they couldn't get anyplace else.

He thought about the scarf. He had lied about where they found it, but as a result Elite Eye would remain on the wrong track.

It was at that moment Frank decided to take up Eric Clifton's invitation.

Even on the stairs up to the front door of the station house, Frank and Callie could hear yelling from inside. The loudest voice was unmistakable — Joe's.

"Uh - oh," Frank said. "Let's get him out of here before he gets himself arrested."

They pushed inside the doors and saw Joe locked in an argument with Officer Riley at the front desk. "What do you mean, she can't go home tonight? Can't you tell what this is doing to her? She's completely destroyed — she's not even making sense when she talks! We're not talking about a hardened criminal, Officer Riley. We're talking about my aunt. You're acting as if she's a murderer!"

Officer Riley nodded solemnly. "I understand your concern, Joe, but this new evidence — "

Joe threw his hands in the air. "What new evidence? You haven't even shown it to me!"

Frank stepped up beside his brother. "Hold on! What's happening here?"

"Frank!" Joe exclaimed, his face red. He pointed an accusing finger at Officer Riley. "We're talking cruel and unusual punishment here! Officer Riley wants to detain Aunt Gertrude overnight!"

"I'm sorry, boys," Riley said. "Believe me, I know how you feel. But we have some new evidence that's very, very disturbing. I think you should talk to a lawyer."

"What are you saying? Where's my aunt?" Frank cut in.

"She's still in the squad room, but we're going to have to transfer her to a cell soon."

Frank rushed past Officer Riley, followed by Joe and Callie. He pushed open the door to the squad room.

Beside Riley's desk, Aunt Gertrude was rocking slowly back and forth, staring teary-eyed at the floor. She seemed to have aged twenty years since Frank had left her.

"Aunt Gertrude?" Frank said softly.

Gertrude Hardy blinked as if snapping out of a dream. "Frank!" she said, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I feel so — so utterly degraded! It's bad enough just to think of this horrible thing, let alone be accused of doing it! And now this—forcing me to stay! I can't take it, Frank. It's making me crazy. They're — they're treating me as if I were a common criminal. Maybe they'll listen if both of you talk to them!"

Frank gently put his hand on his aunt's shoulder. "We'll take care of it," he said.

"Don't you worry," Joe chimed in. "Just sit tight."

They stepped outside to see Officer Riley heading down the hallway toward them. He was holding an envelope in his hand.

"Officer Riley, please," Frank said as he, Callie, and Joe walked into the hallway to meet him. "Have a heart — "

Con Riley held up his hand to stop Frank. "Chief Collig says I can show you the evidence. I — I don't think you're going to like what you see."

He held out the envelope to Frank, who opened it and took out a series of photos.

"What is this?" Callie said as she and Joe looked over Frank's shoulder.

Frank turned the top one over. It was a blurry black and white photo of the fishing pier, obviously taken from a great distance and then blown up. It had been taken at night, so only things in pools of light from the streetlamps were visible.

He noticed the outline of the pier and the railing and part of the supply house.

And then, on the bottom left, he saw the silhouette of a couple — an older man whose gray hair shone in the artificial light and a woman who was walking next to him with her arms folded.

They fell silent and motionless. In one of the photos the people looked remarkably like Aunt Gertrude and Henry Simone.

He flipped the photos. The next showed the same scene, except the couple had moved from left to right. In the third photo they couldn't be seen at all—they seemed to have disappeared into the darkness between the streetlights.

But it was the last picture that made Frank's stomach knot up. The man was no longer in the photo.

And the woman was hurrying away from the pier—alone!

FOR A LONG TIME the three of them just stared at the picture. No one knew what to say.

"Is something wrong?" Aunt Gertrude called from inside the office. She wandered out and looked around at the group. "What's going on? Have they already tried and sentenced me?"

Instinctively Frank put the photos out of sight.

"No, Aunt Gertrude, of course not," Joe spoke up.

"I heard Officer Riley—and he said he had something to show you," Aunt Gertrude said. "What is it?"

"Just some, uh, circumstantial evidence. But don't worry, it's probably inadmissible in court anyway." He glared as Frank opened his mouth. This wasn't the time to tell her about the photos.

"Oh, can't you boys talk to me in plain English?" Aunt Gertrude answered, her brow furrowed. She gave Frank a curious look. "And just what are you hiding?"

Frank looked at the ground sheepishly. "We're going to have to show her sometime, Joe," he said.

As Officer Riley watched solemnly, Frank handed the photos to Aunt Gertrude.

"You all look like you've just seen a ghost. What are these anyway?" She yanked them out of the envelope and flipped through them.

Frank watched as the color drained from Aunt Gertrude's face. "These people look like — like — Where did you get these?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"They were sent to us anonymously," Officer Riley replied. "No note, just the pictures."

"And — and you think these people are Cyril and myself." Aunt Gertrude's eyes had become round with fear.

"Well, are they?" Officer Riley asked.

"Of course not!" Aunt Gertrude snapped. "We're not the only people who have taken walks at the pier at night. I don't understand how — " She swallowed hard and looked around her. "Oh! All of a sudden I'm not feeling well — " She dropped the photos on the floor.

Joe grabbed her arm. "Look how upset you've gotten her!" he said to Officer Riley.

"Let me take her to the rest room to pull herself together," Callie suggested.

Officer Riley looked from Callie to the Hardys. "All right," he said. "It's down the hall and to the left."

Callie reached for Aunt Gertrude's arm, but Aunt Gertrude put up her hands to stop her. "I — I can go by myself," she insisted.

She walked down the hall, her head high.

Officer Riley shrugged. "Sorry, folks."

Joe picked up the photos and said, "This is ridiculous. There's no evidence here at all! And besides, isn't it a little strange that someone would be sitting around snapping pictures of people at the pier in the dark?"

Con Riley shrugged his shoulders. "We're only at the beginning of this case."

"I know, but — "

At that moment a loud thud interrupted them from down the hall.

"What was that?" Frank said.

"Don't know. Came from the rest rooms," Officer Riley answered, running toward the noise. "I hope she's all right."