Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
No one. It was empty. What Joe feared most had happened. Annie was gone!
"Where is she?" Joe groaned and leaned against the bathroom doorframe. Frank could hear the pain in his brother's voice, but there was little he could do to comfort him. "I don't know, Joe, but when I went to take a look at Sidler's room in the Bayport Downtowner, it looked just like this."
"Why didn't you tell me last night?" Joe asked. "You knew Annie was in danger. We could have come and gotten her."
"I wasn't thinking straight, Joe. Sorry, but I guess I thought she'd be fine." Frank leaned in to touch his brother's arm. "Joe — "
"Leave me alone." Joe knocked Frank's hand away.
"Joe, Annie may have left town. She may have run away. She drew her pay, quit her job. That means she must have had a plan."
"She wouldn't have left town without telling me, Frank." Joe's voice pleaded that she hadn't. "I know she wouldn't."
"Let's search the building." Frank gave Joe new hope.
"I know she said there's storage in the basement. She put her suitcases down there. But she would have to take them if she'd left." With restored purpose, Joe took off into the hall and down the stairs to check out the basement.
Frank took the time to stop at the open door they'd passed. He knocked and looked down at the child, who smiled up at him.
"Cammie — Who?" A tired-looking woman snatched up her child. "Who are you? Get out of here."
"Sorry, ma'am. The door was open. I wanted to ask if you heard anything - unusual last night or this morning. Or if you've seen the red-haired woman who lives on this floor."
"I didn't hear anything. I didn't see anything, or anyone, either. We mind our own business here. Now, get out."
Frank backed away from the door and left the woman scolding her daughter for opening it in the first place. Bounding down the stairs, he caught up with Joe, who had just checked out the first floor.
"The basement's this way," Joe said, leading Frank to a door at the end of the hall.
The light Joe flicked on at the top of the stairs didn't help much. The stairwell was dim, and the Stairs were dusty. If anyone in the building was in charge of maintenance, he or she took the job rightly. Frank stepped in front of Joe and started down slowly, one step at a time.
Frank doubted that whoever searched Annie's room would think to check the storage area, but it paid to proceed cautiously. He knew that Joe wanted to throw caution aside and burst into the basement.
The basement was empty. Joe's face was grim. "I think that's probably a storage room over there," he said loudly, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls.
Just as they reached the storage room and were inspecting the padlock on the door, they were surprised by a voice behind them. "Joe?" The whisper seemed like a shout in the cool quiet.
"Annie!" Joe turned and ran to her as she stepped out of a nearby closet. He caught her just as she started to collapse.
"Joe, I was so afraid I'd never see you again," Annie said faintly.
"You know better than that. I'm just glad I thought about the basement. What are you doing here?"
"Hoping you'd find me!" Annie burst into tears.
Joe reassured Annie that he was there to help her.
Frank sighed. Although glad Annie had been found, he couldn't help wishing they could put her on a bus with a ticket to someplace far away. Whatever trouble Annie had gotten herself into now directly involved Joe.
"What happened, Annie?" Frank asked, questioning the girl. "Who searched your room?"
"I don't know, Frank." Annie stepped from the safety of Joe's arms. She blew her nose on a tissue Joe provided. The tears on her face streaked the dirt and dust she had collected in her hiding place, and even Frank felt protective. She looked as vulnerable as a young child.
"I came back from Tony's this morning," Annie continued, "and walked in on a guy trashing my room. I'd never seen him before, but obviously he'd been there for a while. Obviously you saw it." Annie choked back another sob. "Joe, he tried to kill me! I ran. I've been here, hiding, ever since."
"He tried to kill you?" Frank questioned. "Did he have a gun — a knife? What did he look like? Can you describe him?"
"It all happened so fast. I — I don't know."
"Someone searched your room and threatened to kill you, Annie. You must remember something. Think. Did he have a gun?"
"No." Annie threw a glance at Joe that seemed to say, "Make your brother leave me alone." She was sending out a signal loud and clear — damsel in distress, damsel in distress.
"Frank, cool it. You don't have to come on like - a tough cop. Annie's had a bad scare. Let's go so she can clean up. We'll get a soda and talk like civilized people."
Frank ignored Joe. "We'll get out of here in a minute. Annie, did he pull a knife on you?" He returned his attention to the girl.
"I — I don't think so."
"How did he try to kill you? Did he grab you, try to strangle you?" Frank asked.
"Frank, I was scared." Annie was getting angry at him and his tone of voice. "I — Maybe he didn't try to kill me, but I thought he was going to. He pushed me aside and ran when I walked in on him."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Frank said, glancing at Joe. "What did the man look like, Annie?"
"I don't know. He — he was tall. Really tall."
And quick, Frank added to himself. That is, if it was the same guy who startled him in Phil's room. It wasn't much to go on, but it was something. Whoever had been looking for Phil obviously knew that Annie had some connection to him.
At this point, though, there was only one thing that Frank was perfectly certain of. Whatever was going on, Annie was scared. Frank had seen pure fear before, and recognized it now in the girl's eyes. Maybe he had been too hard on her with his questions. After all, he hadn't noticed anything when he was surprised by what seemed to be the same attacker. Anyway, no matter so much he wished Joe wasn't involved with her - he was. And now, so was Frank. They had to help her.
"Annie, I think you should know that the police suspect that Phil Sidler was a thief." Frank realized he might be telling Annie something she already knew. "In fact, he's been connected to gang of jewel thieves that has been active in the New York area for some time. Now, we think that because you knew Phil, and someone knows you knew him, you may be in very real danger."
"What should I do, Frank?" Annie clung to Joe's hand. "I'm scared to death." She turned wide eyes on Frank. "You'll help me, won't you?" She looked lost and childlike.
"You know we will, Annie."
"I don't know anything about Phil Sidler," Annie said. "I mean, not recently."
"When was the last time you saw him?" Joe asked. Frank was glad to hear Joe switch to a more businesslike tone.
"I — I can't remember." Annie frowned. "I did visit his mother before I came to Bayport. That would have been, let's see, just over a month ago."
"When had his mother last seen him?" Frank asked as he led the way back upstairs to Annie's apartment.
"She said she hadn't seen him in a long time, ·but she made me read a letter that Phil had written to her." Annie paused as if wondering whether or not to go on. "She — well, she always wanted Phil and me to stay together. She was urging me to go find Phil."
"Did you look at the address on the letter? Where was Phil when he wrote it?" Frank continued to press for information.
"I glanced at it, since his mother kept insisting I look at it. I think it was a Hundred-eleventh or - twelfth Street, something like that. In New York City."
"It's not much to go on. But I found a matchbook cover outside Phil's apartment. It came from a bar on Amsterdam Avenue, way uptown. I think I'm going to take a little trip to the city. And I think, Annie, that I'd better share with you all the information I have so far."
"I'm going, too, Frank," Joe answered. "Anything we find out will help Annie. Obviously someone thinks she knows something, and she's involved whether she wants to be or not."
"I'm not staying here alone," Annie protested. "I'll go also. Besides," she added shyly, with a hint of the old sparkle in her eyes, "you know, I always wanted to watch you detectives in action."
"Okay," Joe agreed. "Get your stuff ready. I'll run down for your suitcases. You're not staying here anymore."
They waited until Annie washed up, changed into a skirt and heels, and threw her stuff into the bags, which they tossed in the back of the van. After pulling into a fast-food place, they ordered hamburgers, fries, and sodas, which they ate on , the way to the city.
The trio sat quietly as Frank maneuvered through the traffic on the streets of the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
Finding the bar was easy, and Frank luckily got a parking spot nearby. It was nearly five o'clock, the time the bar started to fill with customers. It was small and shabby, and the bartender was especially friendly.
"Hiya, folks. Welcome to Norm's. Long time no see, A — "
"Are you Norm?" Annie cut off the greeting and laughed. "Sorry to bother you, Norm, but we just need some information. My friends are looking for a guy named Phil Sidler. Lived around here, we think."
None of Annie's earlier fear showed in this exchange. She stepped easily into the role of private investigator. She seemed to have a natural talent for the work. "Tall, blond, wore his hair in long sideburns. Big nose, so thin if he turned sideways you might miss him," she joked.
The bartender grinned, eyeing Annie curiously. "Good description. What's this information worth to you?"
Annie dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty. She casually tucked it into the glass closest to her as she perched on a bar stool.
"Last time I saw him, he called the Riverview Apartments home." Norm continued to arrange beer mugs in neat rows, all the time keeping a cheerful smile on his face. "Two blocks west of here, on a Hundred and twelfth."
"Thanks, Norm — if you're Norm." Annie smiled and rejoined the Hardys, who had watched the exchange with astonishment. "Not bad, huh?" she whispered to Joe.
"You're hired," said Joe, putting his arm around Annie and escorting her out onto the street. "Our agency could use a woman." He grinned at Annie as if the two of them were alone, and Annie looked relieved that she had done well in spite of her nervousness.
Meanwhile, Frank was deep in thought. Had he imagined it, or had the bartender recognized Annie as they entered the bar? He glanced at the smiling, wholesome-looking girl, beaming under Joe's affectionate praise. Surely Frank was wrong. Why would a nice nineteen-year-old girl be known in a dive like that?
Frank erased the thought from his mind. He had too many other things to worry about now.
Even though the Riverview Apartments were just two blocks from Norm's bar, they moved the van and parked beside the curb outside the redbrick building. If there was any view of the river from the building, it would be from the roof, Frank thought, on a clear day. They approached the entrance but stopped at the bottom of the three steps.
"How do we get in?" Joe looked at the wrought-iron gate in front of the entrance door. Each needed a key. "Up to you, Annie." Frank and Joe quickly disappeared around the corner to watch Annie.
She waited a couple of minutes, until an overweight, matronly woman started toward the building, then she took a deep breath and stepped into the role as if she were made for it. Quickly Annie rummaged through her purse. "I've done it again," she said, scolding herself as the woman approached the door of the building. "Phil will kill me if I've lost it."
"Left your key inside, did you?" The woman asked, eyeing Annie suspiciously. "You young people are so careless these days."
"Oh, thank goodness." Annie looked at the woman with relief, ignoring her doubtful gaze. "At least I can wait for Phil in the hall instead of on the doorstep." She chattered on, charming the woman, and finally entered the building with her. Annie even held her groceries while she opened the two doors into the Riverview Apartments.
"Pretty good member of our team, huh, Frank?" Joe said as the Hardys approached the door moments later. Annie held the front door open, and they slipped through.
"Apartment Seventeen, top floor," Annie whispered. "His name is still on the box."
The Hardys, trusting Annie's skills by now, pushed the button for the small, rickety elevator and rode up in silence.
"Oh!" Annie stepped backward right into Joe and gasped as the door to 17 swung open. It was not locked. Inside, the picture was the same — someone had been there, too.
They made a quick search, but expected to find nothing. Annie stood in the middle of the one tiny dark room the whole time, glancing over her shoulder and twisting the ring on her finger nervously.
"Let's get out of here, guys. I don't like this." After seeing this new evidence, Annie was no longer pleased to be playing detective.
Frank didn't like it, either, but he wanted to search thoroughly, anyway. He didn't know what he expected to find.
Once again there was nothing. Whoever was employed in the search-and-destroy division of this operation was skilled and thorough.
"Okay, let's go," he said, and led the way back to the elevator.
Out on the sidewalk in front of the building, they all gratefully breathed in the fresh air. Annie walked toward the van ahead of the brothers, anxious to be safe inside the vehicle. As she was passing a limousine parked at the curb, both passenger doors opened. - Before either of the Hardys could react, two men dressed entirely in black leaped out and grabbed Annie, who barely had time to let out one short scream.
The men wrestled Annie into the car and roared away.
"No!" shouted Joe.
"Let's go after them," Frank yelled, heading for the van. "Keep your eye on that car."
The Hardys dashed for their van, and Frank had the engine roaring before Joe fastened his seat belt.
Frank followed the limo easily, racing through yellow lights and weaving in and out of traffic. But near a group of warehouses a red light stopped them. Frank had been so intent on chasing the limo that he didn't notice it until it was too late. It was then that he heard the scream of a siren and saw a red flashing light appear in his rear-view mirror.