Double Exposure (10 page)

"Frank," his father interrupted. "All those things can be faked. You ought to know that better than anyone else."

"But how could he get onto the City Hall computer system?"

"If you could, so could he," his father said firmly. "It interests me, though, that he knew so much about us. I think it's important we find out who this young man really is."

"We've been trying to do that," Joe said. "Only we haven't had much luck."

"There's something else about him, too," Frank said. "The videotape."

"Right," Joe said, grabbing his father by the arm. "Come watch this. If nothing else, at least you'll get a better look at him."

They all followed Joe into the den, where their Aunt Gertrude, who had returned from her visit, was sitting quietly, reading. She glanced up from her book. "What's all the fuss?"

"Just a little confusion, Aunt Gertrude," Joe said. "It has to do with our older brother."

"Oh." Aunt Gertrude began to read her book again. Then she frowned and looked up. "What did you say?"

Frank inserted the videotape and started it up. "He brought this with him when he came to meet us at the waterfront — said it would help prove Janosik was innocent."

They all settled down to watch the tape.

"What does it mean — 'DD insertion'?" their father asked as the words appeared on the screen.

"We don't know," Frank said, shaking his head.

When they came to the closeup of the young soldier, Frank froze the tape, and turned to his parents.

"Does this help — does he look at all familiar?"

Both shook their heads.

"I don't understand." Aunt Gertrude spoke up from her chair in the corner. "Are you trying to identify that actor?"

"Actor?" Frank echoed.

"That's right, Frank." She shook her finger. "Don't you recognize this film?"

Frank shook his head. "Tell me."

She stood and walked to the screen. "This is a scene from Deadly Deception — that big suspense movie from a couple of years ago. This is the scene where they kill General Voroloff." She pointed at Chris's face and frowned. "This man's face doesn't look familiar. I was quite sure that another actor played this part. Oh, well," she said, sitting back down. "I must have been wrong."

"No, Aunt Gertrude," Frank said, as understanding dawned on him at last. "No, you weren't wrong!" He turned to Joe. "Get it? DD insertion—"

"Deadly Deception insertion!" Joe said excitedly. "Somehow, Chris's face has been inserted on top of the original actor's!"

"Right." Frank nodded. "So he never killed anybody."

Joe balled his right hand into a fist and smacked it into his left palm. "And that could mean Janosik never took that money, either! The whole thing's a fake!"

"A FAKE?" LAURA HARDY ASKED. "HOW can you fake a film?"

"We're not talking about film, Mom," Frank said. "We're talking about videotape. It doesn't record pictures, it records data magnetically— like audio cassettes, or computer disks."

"So Chris used all those computers to help Krc and Liehm make this phony videotape?" Joe asked.

"Right," Frank said.

"I'm afraid I still don't understand," their mother said.

Frank sat down next to her. "There's a piece of equipment called a photo imager. It breaks up any photo into little dots — "

"Like on a TV set," his mother said.

"Exactly," Frank nodded. "Once you have an image broken and recorded, you can use a computer to move it around any way you want. It's how they colorize old black-and-white movies." He shook his head. "The company was called Video Imaging," he said to himself. "I should have seen it!"

"Easy, Frank." His father put a hand on his shoulder. "What you're talking about doesn't sound quite as simple as colorizing film. I didn't know things like this were possible."

"They sure are, Dad," he said. "In a few years this'll seem like kid stuff. The Deadly Deception tape must have just been a test. Making the videotape of Janosik taking the bribe, that was the real project."

He shook his head. "It must have taken them months — maybe even a year. They probably began with a real tape of Janosik meeting those two CIA guys—then changed it to smear him."

"And that must be where Chris came in. He worked with them to develop that tape," Joe said. "So his 'proof of Janosik's innocence — "

"Was the tape that he brought with him, showing what kind of image manipulation was possible." Frank was still angry at himself. "I should have seen it — they've been doing this kind of thing on commercials for the last year or so."

"I'm starting to get lost," Fenton said. "I want this whole story from the beginning. Come on."

Frank and Joe followed their father into his study and laid out the whole story for him. When his sons had finished talking, Fenton Hardy stood. "This Chris sounds like a very mixed-up young man," he said. "He can't seem to make up his mind whose side he's on."

Frank nodded. "Once he found out the tape he'd helped put together was going to the press and TV stations, he just took off, I guess."

"Sounds like you don't really believe that, Frank."

"I don't know, Dad." Frank smiled for a second. "I kind of liked the guy. And last night, I thought he was going to stick with us."

"He may surprise you yet," Fenton Hardy frowned as he concentrated. "Well, the first thing we have to do is get Janosik's name cleared."

"We can't just tell everyone the tape's a fake, though," Frank said. "It will take some proof — probably even beyond the phony Deadly Deception tape."

"From what you told me, I'd say the best place to get that proof is in Boston — at that place you broke into, Video Imaging," his father said.

Frank cleared his throat, glancing at Joe. "Uh, Dad, we're not supposed to go back there. We had a sort of run-in with a police lieutenant. ..."

"You left that part out of your story." Fenton Hardy raised an eyebrow. "Never mind. One of the people I worked with on the force in New York is pretty important up there now. He should be able to smooth the way for us."

Joe and Frank exchanged sheepish grins.

Their father picked up the phone and dialed. "Yes, I'll hold." He picked up a pencil and started tapping it absentmindedly on his desk. "We'll take the next shuttle up."

"Right, Dad," said Joe. He turned to Frank, whispering, "I'd love to see the look on Considine's face when he sees us again."

Frank nodded, grinning.

"They're putting me through. We'll have this cleared up in a minute," their father said, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, yes—can you get me Ben Considine's office, please?"

Joe's mouth dropped open.

"Ben, Fenton Hardy here. ... Yes, it has been a long time. I wonder if — "

As one, Joe and Frank got up quietly and headed for the door.

"Hold on a minute, Ben." Fenton covered the receiver. "What's the matter with you two? Don't you want to tell Lieutenant Considine what you've found out?" he asked.

They both shook their heads.

"We're kind of tired of talking to the police, dad." Frank smiled weakly. "You do it."

The plane ride to Boston was just long enough to be uncomfortable for Frank and Joe. They'd had to explain to their father why they hadn't been entirely truthful with Lieutenant Considine. By the time they reached Cambridge again, though, they had cleared that up.

Considine met them at the precinct house.

"Fenton!" he said. The two men shook hands. Then he stared at Frank and Joe.

"I knew that name was familiar," he said, scowling at them. Then he broke into a smile. "You kids remind me of myself, when I was younger — real troublemakers," he said, turning to Fenton Hardy. "Like when we were on the force in New York, Fenton, right?"

"Not quite," Fenton Hardy said. "We always worked with our superior officers — not against them." Frank and Joe knew those words were meant for them — a not-so-subtle reminder that if they wanted to be detectives, they had to learn to cooperate with the law.

Frank moved the subject to more comfortable territory. "I think the thing to do—with your help, Lieutenant," he added, "is to check out Video Imaging again. That's where we'll find proof of how they made these tapes."

"Yeah," Joe said. "We didn't exactly give it a thorough going-over before."

Fenton nodded. "Seems like a good idea to me. Can you spare a few men to help?"

Considine shook his head. "I haven't had a chance to check the place out at all — the new, 'proof about Janosik has the campus up in arms. Demonstrations are starting already—"

He frowned. "And we're still waiting for the FBI to get us pictures of those two—Krc and Liehm. With all the VIPs in town for Janosik's speech, I need everyone I have on campus."

Frank thought for a moment. "I know who could help us, Lieutenant. There's a student on campus who's a real computer expert."

"Get him down here," Considine said, glancing at his watch. He pointed Frank to an empty desk. "Use that phone." He turned to Fenton. "I'll count on you to keep everything under control. I've got to get back to the JFK Center."

Fenton nodded.

Frank called the Beast and explained why they needed his help.

"Wow," he said when they were finished. "They must really have some hardware to pull that trick. I'll be there in five minutes."

He was, and a few minutes later the four of them were in a borrowed police car on their way to downtown Cambridge. Fenton drove, with Joe in the front seat next to him and Frank and the Beast—who introduced himself as Larry—in back.

"Right here?" their father asked, pulling into the parking garage next door.

"This is it," Frank said.

"I never thought I'd see this place again." Joe shook his head, thinking of how close he'd come to dying in that building.

"I've been here before—only at night, though," the Beast said, getting out of the car. "We're going to Video Imaging—right?"

The three Hardys stared at him.

"My friend Chris works here," the Beast explained.

"Hold it," Frank said, pulling him back into the car. "Chris? Chris Hardy?"

"Nah," the Beast said. "Chris Bayer."

Fenton smacked the steering wheel. "Chris Bayer," he said. "Of course."

"You know him, Dad?"

"I did." He turned and faced his sons. "Chris is the son of a man I knew years back. Walter Bayer, a key witness in a mob case we were prosecuting in New York. His testimony helped put a big mob boss behind bars — "

"Tom Luther?" Joe asked. He remembered his father talking about the case a long time ago.

"Tom Luther." Fenton nodded. "His people killed Walter and his wife. Chris was about five or six at the time, but he'd seen the murder, so the mob was after him."

He shook his head. "When Laura and I heard about it, we took Chris in. It was only for half a year, and we had to keep it quiet. We were always afraid they'd track Chris down and kill him, too."

"No wonder you didn't recognize his picture," Joe said.

"It's been a long time," Fenton said. "Then the FBI decided he'd be safer if they moved him to another city, under the witness protection program." He took a deep breath. "It really shook your mother up when they took him away. Such a little boy being sent somewhere to new parents where he didn't know anyone."

Frank dug Chris's license out of his pocket and showed it to the Beast. "Is this the guy?"

"That's him," the Beast said. He took the license from Frank and looked at it. "Excellent forgery — Chris really is much better at this than I am."

Frank took the license back. "What else can you tell us about him?"

The Beast frowned. "Not much. We used to meet here, or at his place."

"All the way out in Northampton?" Joe asked. "That's at least a two-hour drive from here."

"Northampton?" the Beast shook his head. "No, his apartment's here in Cambridge, right on Windham Street."

"It might be worth taking a look at that apartment, Dad," Frank said.

Fenton Hardy nodded, starting up the car again. "Let's try there first."

They found Windham easily enough. Except for the motel on the corner, it was a street of quiet frame houses. The one they pulled up at had been a bright yellow. Now it needed a fresh coat of paint.

"This is it," the Beast said.

"Looks like student housing to me," Fenton Hardy said.

Larry nodded. "Most of the block is. Chris has been here for a while, though. He's really got the basement fixed up."

"Let's check it out," Joe said.

They went down a short flight of steps to a separate basement entrance, with its own bell. They rang it.

No answer.

Frank wasn't too surprised. He hadn't expected it to be this easy to find Chris — not after the wild goose chase he'd led them on.

"Dad! Frank! Come here!" Joe knelt at one of the basement windows. "There's somebody in there, but he's not moving!"

Fenton Hardy gently pushed his son aside. "Let me see, Joe." Frank peered over his father's shoulder. "Dad, it looks like Chris!"

Fenton nodded. "Let's get in there." He took off his jacket, wrapped it around his fist, then smashed the window. Joe reached through the broken glass, unlatched the window, climbed inside, and gasped.

"What's that smell?"

"Gas." Fenton was right behind his son. "Don't touch a light switch, or do anything to cause a spark. You could turn the whole place into an inferno. Let's get Chris and get out of here."

He turned to the Beast, who peered nervously through the window. "Larry, ring doorbells — get anybody who's in the house out on the street."

The Beast left. Fenton and Joe moved forward.

Chris lay sprawled in the middle of the living room floor. Joe knelt down, feeling for a pulse. "He's not dead, just unconscious. And he has a very nasty lump on the head."

"All right," Fenton said. He glanced around. "Let's pick him up—and get out of here."

"Dad, wait!" Joe had caught sight of something around the corner, in the next room.

He stepped back and found himself in the kitchen. The oven door was open, and on the floor lay another body, that of a woman.

Joe bent down to look closer. Then he heard a noise behind him.