Edge of Destruction (3 page)

“So where are we heading now?" asked Joe.

"There's a hole-in-the-wall computer store near Grand Central," said Frank, who was a dedicated PC buff. "I've bought hard-to-get computer parts there, and I've noticed the place carries a lot of cheap foreign videotapes. If nothing else, we can ask them the names of other stores to look in."

"Hmm," Joe grunted grudgingly. “Once in awhile you do come up with an Okay idea."

"Let's hope this one pans out," said Frank. "As Peterson said, otherwise it's back to square zero."

Joe looked out the window. "Well, here's where we find out," he said as the train came to a grinding halt at the Grand Central Station stop.

The boys joined the flow of passengers moving rapidly out of the car. Ina minute they found a sign telling them which ramp to take to the surface.

"What a maze down here," said Joe. "Makes me feel like A mouse in a laboratory experiment." He looked around at all the people jostling past. It was as if everyone was in a race to be the first up the ramp. "One mouse in a mob of mice.”

“The subways are just part of the underground," said Frank. "There are the railroad lines here, too. Plus a lot of other facilities. I once read a newspaper article on Grand Central Station. It said that so many different things have been built under the station since it first went up that nobody has a complete map of them all."

"Who would want one?" said Joe as they reached the top of the ramp. "Give me life above ground anytime."

Joe didn't feel much better, though, after they made their way through the crowded station and exited up on the street.

"I still feel like I'm underground,” he said. They were on a sidewalk that lay in the permanent shadow of towering buildings. Only a narrow strip of bright blue sky above them proved that it was still broad daylight. Edging the blue were dark gray clouds that would bring rain later.

Frank put his hand on Joe's arm. "Wait," he said. "Here's the store."

On the window was a big sign proclaiming SUPER SALE! GOING OUT for BUSINESS! with the word for written in nearly invisible ink. Inside were display counters jammed with every conceivable kind of electronic goods.

"Kajimaki videotape?" said the salesman. "You're in luck. We're the only place in town that carries it. The company went out of business last year, and we snapped up their last shipment. That's why we're able to offer it at an unbelievably low price. In fact, if you buy one of our new VCRs, also on special sale, we'll toss in five tapes free." “Actually, we just want some information," said Frank. The eager gleam in the salesman's eyes faded. “You want information?" he said. “There's a big booth inside Grand Central Station that'll give you information. They'll even give it for free. This place is a store. We sell things. You give us money, we give you merchandise. Got it?" Frank and Joe exchanged glances. This man was so warm-so friendly. “Look, I'd like to buy Some of those video tapes," Frank began. “in fact, if the price is right, maybe I'll buy you out. But first I want to be sure the stuff is okay," he said. "You ever get any complaints ?"

“Absolutely not," said the salesman indignantly. "Do you think this establishment would sell anything not backed up with an iron-clad guarantee?"

"Is that your guarantee?" Frank asked, pointing. A small, faded sign was attached to the wall with peeling Scotch tape. In tiny letters, the sign said, "All sales final. Absolutely no refunds." "Oh that," said the salesman. "That's just to discourage cranks." That got a smile from Frank. "Well," he said, "not that I don't believe you, but maybe you can tell me if you've sold many of these tapes."

"Sold many? Of course we have," said the salesman.

"How many?" asked Frank.

“A lot," said the salesman.

"How many is a lot?" asked Frank.

"Quite a few," said the salesman.

"How many is quite a few?" asked Frank. "A number," said the salesman.

"What number?" asked Frank.

"Just yesterday a guy came in and bought a couple of tapes," the salesman said.

"Just one person has bought Kajimaki tape?"

"For pete's sake, kid, we just got the shipment in a couple of days ago. Kajimaki doesn't have brand recognition."

"So why did this guy buy it?" asked Frank. "To tell the truth, he didn't actually buy it. I offered to toss it in free when he was trying to decide if he wanted to buy a video camera-also on special sale, incidentally. Maybe you'd like to take a look at one. I'll make you a deal you won't believe. "

Frank pretended to consider. He looked at Joe, as if asking an opinion. Joe shrugged. "I'm not so sure," he said. "You think we can trust this guy?"

Frank turned back to the salesman. "Look, don't worry about my friend here. It's not that I don't trust you, but maybe you could tell me who this other person was who bought the tape. Maybe you even have his name on a credit card receipt. That way I could get in touch with him. I could check out if he's happy with it." "No luck," the salesman said. "The guy paid in cash for the whole thing. Some people do it that way. Crisp hundred-dollar bills. I don't ask where they get them."

"Actually, I buy things the same way," said Frank. "In fact, most of my crowd does." He knew he had to try to squeeze out the last bit of information fast, before the salesman began to get suspicious. "Actually, this guy might be somebody I know. A real big spender a video freak, too. He told me he was going to buy some new equipment. Was he a tall, skinny guy with red hair?"

"No," said the salesman. "This guy was tall all right, but he must have weighed three hundred pounds. Plus, he was bald and had a black beard. A little weird looking, you might say, but easy to remember."

"Guess it wasn't Tim," said Frank, quickly mentioning a name. "Too bad there's no way I could find out who he is, or be able to contact him. Look, if he ever comes in again, maybe you could get more information about him and call me. I can give you a phone number."

"Yeah, right," said the salesman, his interest fading as his hopes for a sale dimmed. Then suddenly his eyes brightened. "Hey, what a break!" Frank and Joe wheeled around to see where he was looking. Filling the doorway was the mountain of a man that the salesman had just described.

Before they could make a move, the salesman was out from behind his counter and past them to greet the customer.

"Hello, sir!" he said. "Glad to see you again. Hope you were happy with that great Kajimaki tape you got. As a matter of fact, these two young men are interested in buying some. Maybe you could tell them - "

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The big, bald, bearded man pivoted instantly and vanished from the doorway.

The salesman turned toward the Hardy boys. "Hey," he said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into - "

But he didn't get to finish that sentence either. Frank and Joe tore past him, desperate to get to the sidewalk before the big man disappeared down the street.

"Hey, wait!" the salesman shouted after them from the store doorway. "I'll give you a deal you can't - " But by that time they were almost out of hearing range. They had spotted the big man racing into Grand Central Station and were running after him, weaving through swarms of pedestrians who constantly held them back. But they did manage to make it into the station shopping arcade just in time to see the man going down a flight of marble stairs.

"Let's go” Joe said, leading the way.

At the top of the stairs, Frank saw a sign: To Trains.

"Quick," he said to Joe, who needed no urging. "He's going to leave town." When they reached the next level down, they saw the man darting into the farthest entrance way in a line of tunnels that led to the different train platforms.

"Let's hope his train isn't pulling away right now," said Joe as they ran after him. They got to the entrance, dashed through, and saw nothing. There was no train on either of the tracks. In front of them, under dim electric light, the long concrete platform stretched empty into the distance. .

Joe clenched his teeth angrily. "He got away!" "But where?" said Frank. "I don't see any way out of here other than the entrance we just came through. And he couldn't have vanished into thin air. Let's check the tracks. Maybe he's crouched down there, hiding." Joe took one side of the platform, Frank took the other. They moved cautiously, ready to spring into action. Every second or two, they glanced across the platform at each other in case one of them suddenly needed help. "Nothing," said Joe disgustedly when they reached the end. "So, what now?"

Frank thought a minute. "Maybe, just maybe," he said, "the creep escaped down the tracks."

“Pretty slim possibility," said Joe. "But it's worth checking out - " he made a face “considering we have no other choice."

"You go down the left track, I'll go down the right," said Frank. "We'll both give it five minutes before we come back and meet on the platform. Unless of course something turns up sooner. Then whoever makes the find will give a yell and hope the other hears it."

"Let's go," said Joe impatiently.

"Hold on. First we check the time and synchronize our watches." Joe rolled his eyes. "You find more ways to waste time," he complained. But he went through the routine. Once down on the track, Joe went all out to make up for lost time. "If the guy did go down these tracks," he muttered to himself, "he has a big head start."

Joe race-walked between the tracks, carefully avoiding the electrified rail or tripping over the ties. The light from the platform soon faded, and he turned on the combination pen and flashlight he always carried with him. Good thing Frank has one just like it, he thought. And he squinted to see what the faint glow would reveal. Nothing.

Then he saw something in the grime that covered the track bed. Something that might be the trace of a footprint. Maybe he should go back and tell Frank, or yell for him. But going back would let the guy get away for sure. And yelling would alert him to move faster. There was a good chance the guy had slowed down, thinking he was safe.

Joe knew that by moving faster he might close the gap and get his hands on the bearded man. He figured he would be able to beat a guy as fat as that if it came down to a dash.

So he broke into a jog, keeping his body low. His eyes peered into the distance, hunting for anything up ahead. His ears strained to pick up the sound of footsteps other than his own.

Then he saw something. A speck of light down the track getting brighter every second. And he heard a distant roar.

A train. Heading straight at him.

He almost tripped as he came to a stop.

Desperately he looked back at where he'd come from. He could barely see the glow from the platform. He had lost his sense of pace and time in the heat of the chase. His stomach did a flip as he realized he had no chance of getting back in time.

The train light was growing larger and larger, like a giant eye. The engineer was sure to see him, he thought. The train was bound to slow down.

But even as he thought it, he could see how wrong he was. If anything, the train was coming at him faster and faster, as if it were behind schedule, trying to catch up. The light was blinding. The roar was deafening. There was no way the train could stop now. No way out for him. No way but to die.

JOE WASN'T THE only one staring with horror at the approaching train.

Frank was staring at it too. He felt as though his blood was draining from his body. cold sweat beaded his skin. "Joe!"

He had returned to the platform right on schedule. But he wasn't surprised when he didn't find Joe waiting for him. Joe wasn't one to keep to schedules.

Frank sighed. He had just decided that he'd have to go down the tracks to find Joe. He was lowering himself onto the track "when he heard the train. Jerking himself back up onto the platform, he watched helplessly as the train approached. He pretended he would see it slow down, see it come to a stop before the inevitable happened. It didn't.

It didn't stop until it reached the platform and slowly screeched to a halt. Frank stood in the middle of the stream of passengers pouring out of the train.

His eyes were dulled, his expression blank, his mind empty except for the single word that kept echoing inside it.

Joe. Joe. Joe. ' Joe had lost his head one time too many. And now he had lost his life.

"Hey, what are you standing there for? No time to waste thinking. Get moving!"

Frank blinked. It was as if he could hear Joe's voice. He had to get a grip on himself. "Didn't you hear me? Come on!"

Then Frank saw him. Joe was coming out from behind the last car in the train. He was motioning for Frank to join him fast.

Frank was a long-distance runner, not a sprinter like his brother, but he set a personal best record racing down the platform.

"I thought for sure you were a goner," he panted.

"Me too," said Joe. "How did you-?" "I'll show you," Joe said. "Come on."

After a quick check to make sure that the last few people had left the platform and no employees were watching, Joe and Frank squeezed behind the train and dropped back onto the tracks. Joe led the way into the darkness, using the faint glow from his flashlight. Frank used his flashlight too, and for five minutes they walked the tracks.

Frank felt confused. "I still don't see - "

"Take a look at this," Joe interrupted. He shone his light onto the side of the concrete tunnel wall. There, painted the same color, was a metal door.

"When I saw the train coming and realized it wasn't going to stop, I did the only thing I could," said Joe. "I hit the wall. Only instead of the wall I found this door. And even better than that, I found, well look."

Joe pushed, and the door swung in.

"You don't have to tell me it was dumb luck, I know it was," said Joe, and Frank nodded.

"I'm not just talking about saving my life," Joe went on. “Finding this puts us back on the trail of that guy we were chasing. It must be the way he escaped. Come on. But watch your step. Right after we go through this doorway we go down some stairs."

"How far down do the stairs go?"